Category Archives: growing up

Kids with Autism can be stalkers…or not.

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him and her <3

him and her ❤

Ever realize you’ve said something to someone that may be offensive? And then try, desperately and unsuccessfully to grab those words and stuff them back in your mouth, choking them down before they register with the offended person??

This is me on an almost daily basis. It is ALWAYS accidental, I don’t want to offend. Rather, if I DID want to offend, I would make sure it didn’t look like such an awkward accident.

So today I was talking to a friend on the phone. I don’t have many friends. (see above).

She is someone I find cool, funny, witty, and bitingly sarcastic. I appreciate it very much. Reminds me of my “best friend”, who I recently introduced her to. I believe they plan to run away together, leaving me far behind.

This friend has a son the same age as my Sammy. The boys have been friends since the days of little gym, it’s been a few years. Well, we moms became friends and our kids thankfully went along with the friendship we created for them so we could hang out together. I think by now the boys really ARE friends too.

My friends son has autism. It’s not a dirty word, but it sure has some dark connotations.

I have known her during the time she was seeking a diagnosis, during the testing and after the diagnosis. She has killed herself to be the best mother she can be, and provide her son with every opportunity to learn, grow, and socialize. He has blossomed, and is so far beyond his age in intelligence. (He could read way before Sammy knew the whole alphabet). He can sit still now, before he was too restless. I see him and I see this boy. I don’t see “Autism”.

I know this is because I am not his mom. I see the easy part, the product of all the hard work, therapy, and tears she’s shed, worried about his future, and her resolve to give him a “normal” life.

I’ve heard how he has been disciplined for doing things that MY son does, but his behavior is attributed to his diagnosis, not the fact that he is a 4 year old BOY. I see what this does to his mom, what it would do to me if my kid was singled out and treated differently because of something he has been labeled with, even if those around him are doing the same thing…

So anyway.

He recently developed quite a fascination with my daughter. Poor Sammy does not exist at the moment. We are together, and he is just enthralled with my little girl. Maybe it’s her awesome boots, her winning personality, her “smallness” compared to the boys. He asks her how tall she is, he likes to hear her talk.

At her birthday party last week, he kept falling down and waiting for her to “save” him…we captured some shots of him leading Jenna by the hand around the gym. Jenna was still asking about him after we got home. We moms find it adorable, joke about arranged marriages….

My husband has been in a state of terror since finding out we were having a girl. Although he wanted a daughter, the reality has him scared of sex, scared of tampons, scared of everything. He would half-joke about wishing we were having a boy instead. I didn’t find it funny. Since her birth, he is in love with her, but still so worried about her, and all the things that could happened to his baby girl. And, in his culture, there is NO dating. period.

So his reaction to the kids “romance” was not as positive. I joked with my friend about how he can’t handle thinking of a boy liking his daughter, his response was more of an “Oh No!”

I could tell I hurt her, although she said nothing. We hung up and I had a heaviness in my chest.

Then she texted me, maybe we should not meet up the next day so my husband doesn’t get upset.

I could have taken that as her joking sarcasm, but I knew better.

And so followed a little text conversation, a little baring of souls. I made sure she knew my husbands issues are about him, dealing with having a daughter. But my friend has been conditioned to take things in a way that highlight her sons diagnosis. It’s not fair. But she has to be ready, because so many things do become about autism, and it’s exhausting for her.

Her nephew, also autistic, gave flowers to a girl in school that he liked. Response from the school? “Careful, ‘those kids’ often become stalkers”.

I hate the judgment and the ignorance that forces my friend to second guess everything her son does, and everything said about him.

I am not an expert in autism. I do have friends with autistic children. I have a son, without autism, who has most definitely stalked at LEAST one friend at school. My oldest child, in 2nd grade, ATE a boys entire art project over several days time. (In her defense, it was made of Reese’s Pieces). My kids have all done weird, unusual, and/or embarrassing things. They continue to do so.

Why can’t a kid with autism still be a kid, and do all the stupid kid things we have all done? Without having their actions only seen in the context of being done by an autistic kid?

My convoluted point? ANY kid can grow up to be a stalker…

The becoming that happens to us

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dddda

You are 17 “and a half”, as you like to remind me.

As if being 18 will make you a real adult.

Not 18, not 20, not 28……

I think real adulthood settles in somewhere in the 30’s, I FINALLY feel like I’ve gotten there. But probably 15 years from now I’ll be thinking how I still didn’t have a clue back then….. when I was just 39.

I think a lot about how much I’ll miss you, because again, you like to remind me how soon you’ll be leaving. Off to college, adventure, LIFE.

You laugh at me because I finally start tearing up every time we talk about it, when before I was just on your case about not missing deadlines and getting all those college visits scheduled.

Of course I love you. But I have grown to really, really like you. The person you are. I dread you being gone from my day to day routine. I feel sad for myself, and for everyone that will have to put up with me after you leave.

I was driving home today, thinking about how people become parents, and more specifically how women become moms.

You are the person who first made me a mom.

When did I start to FEEL like a mom?

It wasn’t when you lived inside of me or even  just after having you. I wanted you, I loved you, but I can look back now and say no, I didn’t feel like a mom yet.

I grew into it, as you grew.

We reached milestones together, mine as your mother, and yours as a growing child. My self consciousness as a parent gone by the time you hit preschool….and I fought with anyone who would dare stop you from hugging your friends goodbye, or from keeping chapstick in your backpack.

I became strong for you, from being your mom.

I’m still becoming, I don’t think we ever really stop. And again, you have been the catalyst for so many of the things I have become… A mom, the mom of a teenager, soon to be the mom of a child who has grown up enough to leave home…and one day the mom left at home as the rest of your siblings follow you.

And I like to believe the things I tell you about our relationship. How it will change as you grow older, and right now I know you are so ready to get away…but that eventually you will come back. I tell you how close we will be, even closer. I believe this, and want you to believe it too.

You are becoming independent, and I know I’ve pushed a bit lately, worried I’ve sheltered you too much and wanting to make sure you can handle it alone…ordering pizza by yourself and making your own appointments…buying your own tampons. (Alright, we both know I’m going to send you care packages with all that stuff plus chocolate…). But still, being away is going to be so new and exciting…that for a while I am going to become more of an obligation. You will HAVE to call your mom, you will HAVE to spend time with us on breaks from school…you won’t need me the way you did before.

But time has this way of going on…and as you are becoming an adult, a wife, a mom, I will be there right along with you. Becoming your friend, a mother-in-law, a grandmother…

I am so grateful for this journey, and for having you to share it with me.

We can’t say stupid….or butt.

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kindnessabovemalice.org

kindnessabovemalice.org

Sammy comes home from school and tells me he was in the bathroom, when another boy in his class came in, walks up to him and says “No one wants to see your stupid butt!”

I of course hate that other boy. Just for a second. Maybe longer.

Sammy has been having a hard time in the mornings at school, this morning I actually had to chase him to get him into the car because he doesn’t want to go. He was fine and loving it until he had a week off due to illness, and since then he just doesn’t see the point of going back.

So we are working on this, and thankfully he seems fine once I leave the building and he realizes he is stuck there until the end of the day.

But anyway, he’s a bit sensitive, more so than usual…. and so easily bothered by the crudeness that sometimes comes out of the mouths of other kids. He also has a thing about bathrooms, and really doesn’t like using the bathroom at school because not all the stalls have a door. He likes his privacy, I don’t blame him.

So this kid says this to him, and he doesn’t respond to him directly. When he tells me about it, he tells me how he said “you can’t say stupid”…but how he said it really quietly to himself.

I think sometimes, you just need to be a dick.

At least, that’s how I felt when he told me. So as I’m listening to him, and cooking dinner while trying to keep Jenna from climbing up my leg…. I just spout off what comes into my head, and I say “Well, you should have told him no one wants to see his stupid face.”

“Mom! I can’t say that, we aren’t allowed to say stupid!” He was horrified.

Of course.

“You’re right. You should NOT say that, and he’d probably tell on you too and you’d be the one getting in trouble. We should not call each other stupid….. then you should tell him he’s just jealous of your butt.”

“Mom. We can’t say butt either.”

“Fine! Then just tell him he’s jealous.”

He seems satisfied with that. It’s a comeback that doesn’t seem to break any rules. He is probably going to practice saying it so he doesn’t forget.

I wonder how some kids are just natural at being little jerks, and others never seem to master the talent.

Crying in school

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clipartbest.com

clipartbest.com

The 4 year old took to his new preschool unbelievably well. From the first day, he was happy to go. Then, last week he missed the whole week because the plague landed at our house and we were quarantined from society.

His first day back was this Tuesday. He cried for me several times during the day.

I spoke with him about it at home, and he seemed really fine after the fact. Told me “I’m just glad to be home with you”. No one was mean to him at school, he didn’t have any bad experiences….. and he didn’t say anything about not wanting to go back to school.

Today, I dropped him off and he was fine, excited to be there. Then his teacher called me later and said he was upset again. I had asked her to do this if it happened again.

He wasn’t screaming, yelling, unruly. He told her he just wanted to be with me, and was really tearful.

I asked to talk to him, not wanting to come pick him up and perpetuate the problem by giving him the idea that I will come every time he cries…. but I still wanted him to know that I KNEW what he was feeling and wanted him to feel better.

I heard his teary little voice on the phone, telling me he misses me and wants to be home with me. It was so hard to tell him that he needed to stay at school with his friends for now. I asked him if anything was hurting him, it wasn’t. I reminded him that I am coming to get him in a few hours and it would be way more fun for him at school than home with me and his little sister. I reminded him what a brave big boy he was, and I bribed him by telling him I would bring him a surprise when I picked him up. I asked him to make me a special picture to give to me today, hoping that would make him excited to surprise me with his awesome artwork.

I don’t know what “the right” thing to do is…. but I did what I thought would be best.

I then thought back to when my 17 year old went through a similar phase in preschool.

I put some kind of dark lipstick on, and then kissed a piece of paper to make lip marks. We folded it and put it in her pocket before school. When she felt sad, or really missed me, she could just bring out her kiss and press it on her cheek. Just like mommy kissing her. It seemed to work like a charm, some tangible evidence of my love even when we were apart.

I thought back even further… to my own first day or so of first grade. I missed my mom so much that day, I couldn’t help asking my teacher multiple times “when are we going home?” The day just dragged, and my heart felt so sick. I actually broke down and yelled “I want to go home RIGHT NOW!” and started sobbing after what I felt was the millionth time I got the brush off. I don’t remember how my mom handled it, or if she even knew.

So I feel for my Sammy. Hoping as I write this that he is having fun with his class and not still pining for me. As much as I love to know that I am loved, and missed…I don’t want my kids to be distressed.

I think these moments are not uncommon growing up, the world is a big and sometimes overwhelming place. Sometimes you just want to hug that one person who represents security, who you know loves you, to anchor you a little bit.

So I will hug and kiss him, and remind him how special he is to me. He has a little bag of surprises waiting, some glow in the dark necklaces for Halloween, a cool pirate accessory kit with eye patch and bandana. Jelly Belly’s of course. Just a few things to reward him for getting through the day.

Maybe next week he will bring a kiss to school, we will talk about what will make it easier for him to feel my love from afar.

And he will grow, and this will pass.

One day I will miss this, the part where I’m the center of his world…but he and his siblings will always be the center of mine.

Bye-bye binkie

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Binkie. Pacifier. Plug.

That thing you stick in the babies mouth to get them to stop crying. When they need some nonnutritive sucking. When you need a break. I didn’t use one with my first 2 kids….so I must have thought I was doing something right, or better than those that did. Because I was stupid then.

So when I had the 4 year old, and my husband and his family really really encouraged the pacifier, and even the wearing of the pacifier with a string that clips to his clothes… I felt really uncomfortable about it. He was the first baby I successfully  nursed, and I thought maybe he needs the extra sucking practice? Maybe he needs that to be comforted? Lots of kids DO need it. I remember the actual day he really TOOK to the pacifier. Like, if I took it out of his mouth he would scream until I put it back. He didn’t want to nurse…he wanted the pacifier. I didn’t like it at all.

I saw that pacifier as a crutch, almost a drug. Baby Heroin. I didn’t like him NEEDING that. So I limited it’s use, after the newborn period and colic was over….only nap and bedtime.

I can’t tell you how  many fights I had with my husband about that stupid pacifier. I would go somewhere and come home to find Sammy running around with that thing in his mouth. I really, really had an issue with it. I strategized how to get rid of it, researched the best age to do it before the binkie becomes more of a “habit” than a needed comfort.

I preached to my husband about all the things I read, and he looked at me like I was crazy. He didn’t see the problem. Let the kid have a pacifier, geez.

I got rid of Sammy’s when he was 15 months old. I waited until Daddy was on a trip away from home so he couldn’t interfere….I knew he could never stand to see the baby upset about it. Truthfully…. we had a couple nights of waking up a lot…and then nothing, he was fine.

So here comes the last one. baby number 4. As any parent of multiple kids will tell you, your standards seem to be a lot less rigid with each new addition.

I made sure with Jenna that we had plenty of pacifiers. I no longer saw it as my enemy, and sometimes I had to pop it in to buy 10 minutes before I could feed her when I had a screaming toddler to settle down first.

But… 15 months went by, 16, 17….20, 21…. and I am telling myself that I need to get rid of that thing… but I admit… I am so lazy now. Beaten down. Tired. I don’t WANT to deal with what might happen if I take it away. Now that she looks for her binkie at bedtime. although it does nothing to keep her sleeping all night, and she still ends up in bed with me, or loudly whispering that she wants to go downstairs at 6:30 in the morning.

Well, hubby was on a trip this week. I prepared to dispose of the binkies. I did nothing the first couple nights… and finally 2 days ago just brought her to bed without it. she asked for it. I told her it was broken and yucky. She slept. Now, I’ve collected the binkies around the house…and they are all in a cabinet and have not been used in 2 days.

this feels so weird.

Are we really done?

I guess so…

I don’t feel super excited or relieved to have the horror of the binkie behind us. I feel like it’s not real yet. I need to throw them away, but I’m afraid. Maybe it was just too easy. If I don’t have that, what else can I hyper-focus on??!!

I’m sure I’ll think of something.

The baby will cure cancer….maybe

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genius

courtesy of huffingtonpost.com

I find it funny that the almost 22 month old knows ALL of her letters (capital AND lower case) and can name them faster than her big brother, prompting him to either stomp away or try to hurt her without me seeing it.

The 4 year old, like his older brother before him, enjoys running, jumping, playing, hiding, throwing, and HATES to be sat down to practice writing his letters. He never wants to “play school”, yet he does enjoy school while he is there. If I let him watch TV, he begs for sponge-bob. NOT anything educational.

The toddler begs to watch this Youtube video I found about letters, initially meant for the older one. She’s obsessed with it and if allowed, will sit at a kitchen chair and stick her face in my laptop until I force her to go play. She knew her letters before I even  knew she knew…. showing my sister pieces from a letter puzzle and reciting them correctly “A….U….R….”. My sis was shocked….. and I acted of course like it was no big deal, then made her do it for me over and over when we were alone together.

4 year old can count….but often skips important numbers like 15, 18, and it gets pretty shady after 30. Toddler has learned to count to 15…she does not skip numbers. She will also start where you leave off, which is how I found out she could go past 10…when I heard her little voice saying “11….12….13….” I learned this week that she can also count to 10 in Arabic.

She’s a genius, right?

Surely, she will find a cure for cancer….

The fact that she already knows shapes like diamond, triangle, and star, and the difference between an square and rectangle means she is absolutely the smartest toddler on the face of this planet, right??

she speaks in full sentences, makes jokes, expresses herself so well…. There can be no doubt of her greatness, and future of even more greatness….right?

I don’t know, really.

I do know this…. my oldest was a lot like the baby is now, talked early, and amazed me with her abilities. When my second was born… the first boy…. I wondered what was wrong with him. Why didn’t he talk? Where was that breezy recognition of the world, so effortless for the first? He was so different, and we worried….maybe he wouldn’t be as smart??? Is that terrible?

But now, so many years later…. you would not know they ever started out so differently. Both so intelligent, avid readers, and the 13 year old scores impossibly high in math and science. He was not, and is not a dummy. He just took longer to focus, to slow down.

So with the second two…. I’m not so concerned about the 4 year old not reading on his own yet… or still mixing up some letters. I work with him, and play with him too. He’s a smart kid, but right now he would rather wear his Halloween costume all over the house, fighting bad guys and saving the world…it’s more appealing to him than writing out his “R’s” in a nice neat row. he will be fine.

The toddler is just fun right now, and I’m enjoying how much she can absorb. I expect that with the passage of time, she will prove to be a smart little girl, the regular kind, not the genius kind. I won’t lie though, yesterday I was playing a math game with the 4 year old…”If I have 2 apples, and daddy gives me 2 more apples, how many do I have?…. I was seriously expecting the baby to start jumping in with correct answers. That really would have freaked me out.

Now that I am in this parent gig, 4 kids deep…. I’ve learned that things usually have a way of evening out… so I’m not going to plan for the youngest to take over the world just yet…..but I still like to catch her singing her ABC’s on video, and sharing those little moments with my friends.

I hope people don’t find me obnoxious when I post these video’s on Facebook. Because I still can’t help it, I find it so adorable, and I want to catch everything she does and share how happy she makes me. I love that she surprises me so often, and can communicate so well with me.

She’s my last one people!! Let me have that. I am just so happy with her I sometimes want to squeeze her until she pops.

jennaj

The joy of having a 13 year old

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jake6jakejjakej5

Truly, an unparalleled experience.

This is the second time I’ve had a 13 year old. I have 2 more to go after this one.

There are just so many amazing and wonderful things that go along with this age. Some things I remember from my first child at that age, and some new things I am just learning. For instance…

There is a need to be right, and always have the last word. It’s not even a need to be right, who am I kidding. He’s right. that’s IT. I just NEED to accept it.

There is a potential argument for everything. Because he is always right. And by speaking to him, I might somehow be questioning his awesome rightness, so he must assert himself yet again.

the whole idea of good personal hygiene is still a bit hazy….the need to take a shower after football practice does not strike him as urgent, although the rest of us are gagging every time he comes close to us and begging him to clean himself.

Deodorant is still considered optional.

He will still take walks with me and the little kids to get ice cream, and even pull the wagon without embarrassment.

If he is required to make his bed and keep his room clean, I have no right to expect him to help vacuum the living room. because that is borderline abuse. And the start of a text argument.

He plays amazingly well with the 4 year old, then fights with the 4 year old, then gets mad at me because I expect one of them to be more mature than the other in these situations. Apparently the 4 year old should know better.

He still lets me kiss him goodnight, and tells me he loves me.

hairy legs and baby face. (him…not me)

All discussions (arguments) will end in me losing. Because no matter how wrong I believe he is….. he simply reminds me that  I am the one who chose to bring him into the world. And since he couldn’t have done anything bad if he didn’t exist…..that clearly makes everything my fault. (he’s a philosopher.)

He will be a man…tomorrow. But still clings to his childhood today, as do I. The day I can’t excite him with some fake tattoos or bubble tape will be a sad one indeed.

She’s leaving me

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Proof...she loves me!

Proof…she loves me!

My 17 year old is gleefully counting down the days, no, the HOURS until she leaves for college. Leaving the rest of us behind as she forges ahead into her dazzling future.

I did the college visits, kept harping on her to start the FAFSA, and the early application process. Sent emails and made phone calls to people working in the profession she wants to study, trying to find out where the best colleges are for that sort of thing. Talked about getting a job, being responsible, growing up…..

All the while seeming to forget that I was working on her ticket OUT of here. Away from me. Like…. away as in not planning to live with me in a permanent way anymore.

I must have been refusing to face that part of it for a while. After our trip to PA to check out a school there, I was telling a friend about it. I got a concerned sounding “and how are YOU doing?”…”Well, I’m…fine…. how are  you?”  I wasn’t sure why I was being treated so carefully and considerately. But I get it now. Because I’m going to fall apart, and my friend was just checking to see if I’d started yet.

I think now that the flurry of activity is over, I have time to really think about this.

And here come the random episodes of blubbering and panic, the desperate wish to freeze time, the happiness for her and sadness for myself.

I feel very much like a certain Greek father asking his daughter “Why you want to leave me???” with his teary, tortured voice.

yourtango.com

My Big Fat Greek Wedding, 2002. Best Movie Ever. courtesy of yourtango.com

I’m far from an empty nester, with three other kids who will be staying home for years yet. But she will leave a void and no one else can fill that spot. She’s my daughter, but also sometimes I feel like she’s my only friend in this house, like she’s got my back in a way that no one else can. She makes me smile on days that I am so fed up with the world, even if she tempers her greatness with moments of being a pure teenager.

I love that girl.

And it’s hard to know that she won’t be here with me every day anymore. She will start to change. She will come home on breaks, some weekends, and she will be itching to leave…she won’t tell me what she’s up to, at least not while she’s doing it.

And I will watch her transform into a real adult. A woman. Independent. And I think I’m allowed to shed some tears for that, because I’m so full of emotion I can’t seem to help but cry a little when I think about it.

I can sit here and say, she is EVERYTHING I could ever have hoped for in a daughter. I have worried from her infancy that I wouldn’t know how to “do this” right. To keep her close to me. I know what I wanted, it was not the relationship I had with my own mom…she and I did not have an amazing bond, and still struggle to understand each other. But I think I got it right, somehow, with my own daughter.

So of course I hate to see her leave, as much as I love to see her embrace her future.

And so, we turn to our usual comfort measures…

little chocolate donuts. The cure for all ills.

little chocolate donuts. The cure for all ills.

school sucks

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samschool14

 

Oh. Look! There he is.

First day of “real” preschool. Ready to face the world.

Ready to make more friends. Ready to color inside the lines…… ready to LEAVE ME!!!!!

Oh. God. School sucks.

You would think after sending two others down this same path, I would be better with it.

Actually, I think BECAUSE of that, I am NOT better with it.

Look, right now, this kid love ME the most. It all starts and ends with me. Me and him. Us. I mean, yes, I also have this bond with the baby….because like him, she doesn’t know any better. But the older ones, it’s over for me with them. And if I had to pinpoint a time that the separation started…… it was when they started that damn school. Now, well, they laugh at me. Usually, behind my back. But sometimes to my face.

They know…. and he will soon know…. that Mommy doesn’t really control the world.

And that is the beginning of the end.

I just want more TIME!  And it’s crazy because after starting him in this school, my husband and I are panicked that he is already “behind” because we heard about a girl his age already reading at a first grade level. His class will be assessed this month and then the teacher will let us know how he falls within that class at conferences. I feel like I need to cram with him, all the while wanting to keep him home to myself and damn those stupid letters and numbers!

He will make friends. he will color inside the lines. He will leave me.

Never again will I be the beginning and the end for him. Sure, it won’t happen in a day. But it will START to happen, and then continue, snowballing with each grade level. He will question me…..question ME!! Can you even imagine? And just because I tell him something, he soon won’t automatically believe it. He will start to doubt me, and think maybe I don’t know everything. He may even talk about me. Actually complain about me to his friends. Laugh at me too…..

But today, he’s still mine. And I looked into those big eyes, as he talked all excitedly about his day…. and I could not help but smile at his happiness. And then smile 5 minutes later as he passed out in the car, exhausted from his new experience.

sammysleep

He is mine. My special boy, my preschooler, no one will ever love him more.

And if he likes his teacher too much, she will be punched.

kidding. kind of.