Back to our regularly scheduled program ???

So, I haven't blogged in too long and I don't know where to start recapping the past few months so I'll just start with today and touch on anything I want to later. And who knows, maybe no one reads this and I'm just telling myself this anyways. Blah blah blah. I started a facebook status with the following but then it started getting way too long, so here goes....

Yay! The painter started today. Floor starts possibly next Friday. Funny that a stupid girl can get more done in less time than a fancy ass contractor can. We may have our basement suitable for Christmas, not done but close enough to put up a tree and to keep the promise I made to the boys. Phew. Breaking a promise to my boys results in several months of rebuilding trust. After these past few months, we need to start the new year on a good foot. So today I am happy to see progress.

Our ex-contractor just happened to be in Smitty's this morning while the boys and I had breakfast with mom. It took everything in me to not rip him a new one. But I refrained. I've always felt that success is the best revenge. And since the insurance was here yesterday investigating his work (non-work as they put it), I figured I would let the bill they give him speak for itself. Not only will he barely get paid for the little bit that he did here, he will owe us money for the damage he caused to my house doing it. That there is karma.

So the lessons here are:
1. a mom to special needs kids is not to be messed with when it comes to keeping a promise to her children.
2. Know your limit. I overlooked many things in our agreement with the contractor to just hurry the job along, including accepting whatever materials they showed up with even though I didn't pick them in hopes we would be done for Christmas. (They figured Halloween). But once Christmas wasn't doable and he laughed at me, it was done. That was my line.
3. It seems to me I have reverted to this one quite often lately. Either I am being smug or people are really getting stupid. It is okay for smart people to think they are smart, but it is not okay for them to think that no one else is.

Anyways, that is all for now. I'll try to be more of a blogger soon. I'm starting to see a light at the end of this PTSD tunnel, perhaps I'll poke my head up and see if it's safe.

Flooded ... too flooded to elaborate

I'm feeling the need to blog again but I don't feel I have the words yet to describe our flood story accurately.  For now just know that we are still here and we are still carrying on.  Our lives are flooded with hope, lessons, gratitude and a few memories we still need to process.

The months since my last blog have been busy with many ups and downs.  Obviously the flood and cleanup has taken much of it.  At first not knowing how we would make out, then thankfully having only lost the basment, but now our house sits in the floodway with the option of a buyout if we chose.  Doing the insurance dance of course hasn't always been fun but we are thankfully covered.  Worrying about our many friends and our lovely town, watching so many great people fall to their knees in desperation.  It's been humbling to say the least.  Our biggest and most important obstacle has been of course, helping our boys make their way through the emotions attached to that has consumed most of us.  They are really both so intune with other people's emotions and it's so hard to disperse them, it has been difficult.  Which brought us to us to welcoming into our home some Mercy, in the form of a sweet little pup.  We needed her, she needed us, her name is very fitting.  Dealing with a bit of PTSD of my own of course, but making sure to keep it as quiet as possible as to not rock the already delicate boat that is our home right now. 

Adam snuggling Mercy

Our current issue is in debating options for Aaron as he keeps searching for a "cure" for his aspergers and tourettes.  We started him on intuniv tonight.  It's our first drug trial and I feel ill about it, but he heard the doctor suggest it and he won't stop asking me about it.  I know he's only 8 and can't make that decision for himself but I don't know how he really feels each day carrying his aspergers and tourettes.  As much as we make sure he knows he is perfection, he is eager to feel better and be less aggressive at home.  So how can I say no to something out of my own fear?  I need to let that go and try to understand what his burden must feel like and if he wants to try medication, then at least we've found one that has had great success in helping others regulate that "fight or flight" feeling that he often gets.  Even though I am petrified and so worried, I have to trust.

So that's the short form of our these past few months.  I'll be back soon....and maybe one day I'll tell our flood story, but maybe not.  I still see the fear of that morning and our escape in my husband's eyes.  There were just a few minutes at the top of that story that I still can't put the right words to but have changed us forever.

And now what?

It's a very surreal feeling when you are practically begging to hear from a health professional that something is 'wrong' with your child.  (Yes I know nothing is wrong with them, but you know what I mean.) 

I've known for about 5 1/2 years that something was off about Aaron and I started tracking it.  All the night terrors, sometimes two or three a night, sometimes lasting for an hour or more of just trying to hold him and listen to him scream, mood swings, that were completely random and sometimes all day, pressure seeking techniques, that would literally knock me over sometimes, he would push on me so hard just looking for that release, ticks, such as eye blinking, hand slapping, shoulder shrugging, nose picking, all of it.  I tracked if any of it would change according to his diet, according to his environment, according to his sleep patterns, everything.  I did what I was 'supposed' to do, even though I would keep myself awake at night constantly questioning myself.


Aaron

 Was it him or was it me?  How dare I ever think for a second that this beautiful gift had anything wrong with him?  Should I just stop searching now and deal with it all the best we can?  How the hell will we deal with it?  Should we have had children?  How did this happen?  Was it something we did?  They seem to fit in for the most part at school, most days, but them let it out at home?  It has to just be the home.  We are horrible parents.  There is no other rationale some days.  It's a constant internal debate.

We have had so many successes and we sure do celebrate and recognize them.  With each one comes the silent struggle, "See he is fine.  Everything is good.  We can do this.  Nothing is wrong with him."  Then the scale tips back the next minute, hour, day and it's more than obvious that things shouldn't be this way.  I was recently speaking with a dear friend about outside support and how we are eligible, because of the boys' issues, and that I should take advantage of it, but I haven't.  I told her it just doesn't feel right.  They function, they go to school, they can talk, they are so smart.  She reminded me, and it keeps playing over in my mind, that we have "created a new normal and it isn't an easy life.  Most others couldn't step into it for a minute."  Boy that is so true.  For example, right now Adam is in bed screaming "Mommy you hate me.  Why did you birth me?  I was made to be killed.  I hate today.  I want my head to break open.  I know what I wish for."  Over and over and over.  And that's not normal.  He had a hard day.  I'm sure at school it probably looked like he had a great day, but he had a field trip and although he enjoyed it, he was over sensitized and has been miserable and cranky since he got home.  The worst part is, he doesn't know why he is grumpy, he knows he had a great day, he just doesn't know how to process everything he did, felt, heard or saw today.  This from a boy that everyone makes sure to tell me is so kind and sweet, and he sure can be, that is the truth.

I worry for my boys.  Constantly.  I worry that they will be vulnerable to bullies, peer pressure, low self esteem, depression, and many other things too horrid to put into type.  I hardly ever know that what we are doing for them is what they need.  Truth be told, when my house goes to bed, I cry a lot.  It is a tough life and it does take a toll.  All we know for sure is that we love those boys more than air.  They are our hearts and I breathe them constantly.

Today I hold in my hands Aaron's official diagnosis and even though I knew what it would be, for the most part, it's shattered me a bit to see it on paper.  5 1/2 years of independent research, talking to other parents, filling out literally dozens of forms (some over 30 pages long), has all resulted in this.  Aaron officially has Tourettes, Aspergers and ADHD.  The ADHD is debatable in my opinion, but worth a thought I guess.  I'm hoping it is not there for medicating purposes because I'm not convinced on that route yet.  I've always known he has Aspergers.  It has been so difficult to get diagnosed because he is "too social", but he actually isn't very social.  Adam is more social than Aaron but Adam got his diagnosis of Aspergers very easily.  I knew it was Aspergers and now being told that in fact it is Aspergers, I feel vindicated.  Don't worry, it's far from a glorious victory because ultimately, my child (both my children) have Aspergers.  Which is fine and they will learn to live with it and I know they will do great things in their lives, but it is a far from normal life.  And this is just the beginning.

And Adam finally calmed down enough to scream to me that, "I need a hug and kiss.  Sorry mom."


Adam


So now to work on me as well.  There is no need for my late night battles second guessing and constantly questioning our life.  It's all there in black and white.  My children both have Aspergers.  I hardly know what to do with myself now, but that won't last for long.

Okay, I feel like I'm babbling.  So let me wind this down with something profound, to me anyways.  This has been a huge struggle to this point.  No word of a lie.  From dealing with our everyday craziness, to constantly being available for my children, to changing our lifestyle to facilitate theirs, to fighting for a proper diagnosis.  I very humbly say, I have been told so many times how great of a mom I am and it's hard to hear sometimes (most times) because in the moment I always feel like the rug is being pulled out from under me.  I guess, ultimately the only people who ever need to tell me that are my children.  Whether or not I believe that to be true or not, there is one thing that I know I do well for my children and it is something that is lacking in many parents and it is a detriment to the world.  I am an advocate for my children.  I do not back down when it doesn't feel right.  I look for solutions and I make them into law.  If I have any doubt in my mind about anything where my kids are involved I ask questions until I get answers.  Where my children are concerned, I leave no stone unturned.  I answer their difficult questions and fully believe if they have the curiosity to ask it, it deserves a proper answer.  I get involved.  I show up.  I think into their future and try to equip them with the tools they will need.  I'm a mama bear to the extreme.  Don't get me wrong, that does not mean that I am an overbearing, paranoid, helicopter mom.  I watch from afar.  I give them their necessary space and respect their personalities and characters.  But I also make sure to ask them the right questions, I make sure to watch their reactions to things, I make sure I know them enough to know when something isn't right for them and I do everything to fix it.  I make sure that the people around them are safe people to be around.  If there is a lesson in something that my child needs to learn or know, I make sure they experience it.  Yes they have Aspergers, but the world around them for the most part does not care.  The world around them will still spin and they need to find their place in it and it is my job to help them find it.

I see many many kids who's parents refuse to admit when something is up with their kid, they don't want to admit that their child might be a little different, so much so that the child suffers.  When that child suffers, what happens?  What is the ripple affect?  Does it just affect the child, the family, the community, the world?  When we decided to have children, we took on an obligation to the world to raise them with compassion, dignity, love and respect.  We have an onus to society to raise conscientious, responsible individuals.  So when a parent wishes away a child's problems, it only creates more problems, but it goes so much bigger.  Please pay attention to your children.  Please help them grow.  Please teach them the tools they need to change the world.

Here is a glimpse into an aha moment that I had with Adam.  No surprise, I love dogs.  Boxers in particular.  I was looking through facebook a few days ago and showing my son Adam some pictures of a boxer who was a skinny little flea covered rescue but is now in a home of my friend (yes N&R it is you) and he is thriving.  More than thriving, he is doing amazing and boy does it show.  It overwhelmed me and I teared up a bit.  So Adam said, "Why are you crying mom?"  I said "because he needed them and they needed him and it changed the world for them, it's beautiful to see when it happens."  He said, "but one person can't change the world."  I said, "Why not?"  He smiled.  I smiled.  He got it.  His eyes twinkled and he hugged me and said, "We can try though."

Goodbye to DeJa

I am often asked how I find the time for dogs in our very busy life.  I can't imagine our life without dogs.  I honestly don't know what we would do without them.  They have taught us, laughed with us, cried with us.  I truly feel that the best gift we have given to our children is to know the love of a dog.  It's unconditional love at it's finest and I'm so happy to see them revel in it.  This blog is dedicated to and in the memory of DeJa.  She filled our lives with love, laughter and happiness.

 

DEJA

Jan6/01 – May3/13

DeJa came to us at 6 weeks old.  The tiniest little thing you can imagine.  We had no idea how huge she would become to us.  She was our first pet as a couple.  We lived in the city, wanted something small and cute.  We believed the person who told us that pugs didn’t shed.  So not true!!  I would put her in my purse to go grocery shopping.  She was so small that Jake used to put her in his front jean jacket pocket when he was outside.  She even used to go with us for rides on Jake’s Harley.  You can imagine the looks from kids and adults alike when they would notice her in her little pouch between us.  We never worried about the house, she stood guard all day on the back of the couch looking out the window, screaming at anyone who came by.  She had attitude and was so smart.  She even stole an entire box of chocolate turtles off the coffee table one day.  Hid the box and every last turtle while we were at work.  We had no clue.  She’d come out chewing chocolate every once in a while.  We found all the evidence when we moved.

DeJa was only one when we moved to our acreage; it was not too much yard for her.  She would chase off anything that came around, including deer.  Man could she run.



DeJa with Storm



She adopted four white boxers and two skin kids in her lifetime.  Storm, our first boxer, had a special place in her heart.  She was so small when we got her that DeJa, at only a year, took over immediately, cleaning her everyday from head to toe and loving her like she was her pup.  That also included scolding her when needed.  Decker, our first rescue, equally found safety in the paws of mama DeJa. 

DeJa on Storm

Around this time we had our skin kids.  She loved them and they loved her.  She gave them everything.  Danced for them, rolled over for them, ate treats from them, made them laugh, cleaned the floor up after them and loved them.  We took some photos the other night of DeJa and our family and a ladybug landed on her, Adam scooped it up so happily and reminded us that he could get a wish.  He made it quietly.  Then the other day he told me in tears that he wished for DeJa to get better and she didn’t and he didn’t understand.  I told him she was better at the bridge.  And then I cried with him.





DeJa and Decker

When Storm left, the two of them became very close, snuggling each other every night.  As she aged she quickly found solace in his strength and always looked to him for backup.  Velvet joined us a little later and although they didn’t see eye to eye at first, two alpha females, they quickly found their mutual respect and I often found them sharing a space.  Saying goodbye to Decker shook her a bit.  You could see her age more and more after each of them left.  We added Gunner to our pack and she didn’t skip a beat.  She was curious and cautious with this one.  Not sure about all his energy as she was a senior by then.  She kept out of his way but still kept him in place.  He knew she was the Queen and respected it.  So funny to watch him try to reach for a toy that was close to her.  He would never just go and get it, he would stretch his leg out as far as he could and turn his head away trying to reach it without disturbing her.  She wouldn’t even look directly at him, but if he would get too close, she just needed to growl a bit and he would take off running.  She was an excellent boxer mama.  Velvet has been down since she left and looking for some extra reassurance from us.

DeJa on Decker

We are missing our DeJa (AKA  DeJaVu, Dingo, Delinquent, DeJaLee, DeJa Bean, Pugface).  Missing her snort and her attitude.  She was priceless.  So much personality, compassion and love in such a little girl.  She never let a doorbell go unnoticed.  Never let you slow down in the car without screaming (literally).  Never left a tomato plant in the garden without her face being rubbed on it.  She'd find them everytime.  Never left a treat uneaten.  Never left a heart untouched.  And oh man, if you tried to get near her while she was chewing on a steak bone, her eyes would pop out, her fur would go up and she would growl like a monster.

Rubbing her face on the tomatoes.

Turns out DeJa was born with one less vertebrae than a pug should have, which we never even knew until the end, but the space that was there was filled up with calcification and was putting pressure on her spine causing her numbness in her legs and making her fishtail a lot when she would walk.  We tried all we could to help her, but in the midst of our last round of therapy, she collapsed a windpipe and it really started to set her back.  A couple days before we said goodbye, her sight seriously diminished and we knew that the numbness was starting to affect her organs.  It was time.  For all she had done for our home and our hearts, it was time to let her go with some dignity.

PugFace

I know it’s always a topic of conversation in households with pets and kids what to do when saying goodbye to a pet, especially in a case where the pet is euthanized.  Well, our boys always need answers and always need options, so we discussed it with them.  Letting them know that when you love someone sometimes you are called on to do something difficult for you but beneficial for your friend.  DeJa was in those shoes and we needed to do what was right for her.  We explained the process and asked if they wanted to stay home or come with.  They chose to come with.  And at the vet office they could sit in the waiting room or come in the room.  They wanted to come in.  And they did.





DeJa and Gunner

DeJa left this world with her entire skin family at her side.  Each one of us petting her and telling her she was loved and she was a good girl.  Her breathing had been really hard all day and all those she was calmer from the sedative, she was still panting loudly.  Only two or three seconds after the doctor was pushing the first of two vials of medicine into the catheter, she stopped panting.  She was already gone.  She was that ready.  She was so peaceful.  We pet her some more, wrapped her in her blanket and kissed her goodbye.  She was Jake’s heart dog, I’m sure of it.  He’s having a really hard time as we all are.  But we know it was her time and it’s never easy to lose a true and loyal friend.  She saw us through so many things in our life together.  Our house, our wedding, our kids, it’s hard to know what to do without her.



May 2 - Her last day with us.



Just as we never expected her impact on us, we know that the Rainbow Bridge did not expect a new queen, but boy did they get one.  I have no doubt that she is ruling the roost with all she’s got; Storm and Decker at her side.

RIP sweet DeJa.  You were loved and loved in return.  Thank you.

Family picture 2008 with DeJa, Decker and Storm (RIP to all three of them)



Banging My Heart Against The Wall

I truly endeavour to not shine a bad light on my life.  I am blessed beyond my wildest dreams.  I have a wonderful husband who is kind, sweet, handsome and so supportive.  He still gives me butterflies when he smiles at me.  I have two smart, funny, loving and sweet boys.  I live on a beautiful peaceful acreage.  I have three beautiful and compassionate dogs who really are my best friends (no mention of our next couple days with DeJa in this blog - I just can't yet).  I have parents who I love and admire, who are there for me through thick and thin, never judging.  I have a couple close friends who know me well - very well.  I am able to volunteer when my heart calls me to.  I love my profession - yes I love accounting.  This is my life and it is beautiful and I don't ever want what I share in my blog or in person with anyone to be misconsrued as misery.

So here we go.....I am a professional when it comes to my children (as most moms are).  I know them inside and out.  Sometimes they throw me a curve ball, but I usually have them pegged.  What irks them, what makes them happy, what won't work, what I've already tried, blah blah blah.  We have been searching since Aaron was 2 (he'll be 8 in July) for an assessment that fits what he needs.  We feel strongly that he has tourettes and aspergers.  We do live with one child that has aspergers and done so much research on it, I could likely write a book.

Aaron had a psycho-educational assessment (no it does not mean he is psycho or psychotic).  Just an in depth look at what makes him tick, no tourettes pun intended.  And although it was very thorough, it didn't pinpoint the root of what is going on with him.  Yes he has tourettes, yes he is on the spectrum, but where does he fall in the spectrum???  Still no idea.  I refuse to let even a glimmer of PDD (Pervasive Developmental Disorder) hit his assessment.  It receives little to no help from most of the resources we need help from.  PDD is just a nice way to say, your kid has issues, we can't figure out what they are and really a PDD assessment puts us back to square one.  We need a clear and specific diagnosis for Aaron to get very specialized help for Aaron.  He is complex.  He is more complex than his brother who has an aspergers diagnosis.  Aaron changes constantly.  What works for him today, doesn't always work for him tomorrow.  He has a lot of anger and his mood swings are spontaneous.  He presents more asperger markers than his brother except he is social.  But he's not really social.  That's just it.  He has a friend at school that he plays with.  A friend.  His brother is more social than he is.  We go to a kids bingo and he can't handle the pressure and needs to wait in the hall, while Adam is a social butterfly.  He has learned to blend into his social settings, but when he gets home, we all pay the price for whatever socializing he has done during the day.  It's a stack of cards and all day he keeps adding to the stack and adding to the stack and when he gets home, he doesn't just knock down the stack, he burns it to the ground.  So, on one marker he is just shy of having aspergers because of the social element, so we will just say he is on the spectrum.  3 out of 4 markers, yes he has aspergers.  Just a hair shy on the 4th.  Fine for the school, fine for everyone, not fine for my child.  We need help for a child with aspergers, not a child on the spectrum, it's too vague.  The assessment isn't complete yet.  There are a couple of components that need it to be complete, and maybe it will show yet.  But I'm frustrated.  Don't get me wrong, I don't "need" both my children to have aspergers, but I do need to get them what they need.

I'm so frustrated.  We have been searching for 5 years.  I'm so tired of treading water.  I'm so tired of my son and my entire family suffering.  I can't bare the idea of waiting any longer because one checkmark was on a 4 and not a 5.  It's been an emotional day, if you can't tell already.  Sitting in a room hearing all these findings about your son is heart wrenching.  Even if you already knew everything you are being told.  The validation is painful.  Knowing we still have no concrete answer is ... I can't even explain it.  Something I will never get used to.

If I have ever told you I'm having a hard day or shared with you something about my life with my kids, please don't take that as a sign that I am unhappy.  Take it as a sign that I trust you.  Don't tell me how to fix my kids.  Don't ask if I've tried this or that.  Don't tell me I'm crazy.  Don't tell me how sweet my kids are.  Don't tell me that my children are always good for you.  Just smile and maybe give me a hug.  The truth is, that although there are many amazing things about my life - my life is hard.  It is so fucking hard.  It might not be hard forever.  But right now, it's hard.  I don't need sympathy for it, don't insult me with that, I just need the few minutes I have here or there to maybe vent, cry, scream, whatever.  Then I'm good and I can face it again.

I am the mom, the wife, the friend, the daughter, that will always give you a smile, lend an ear, make a joke, speak my mind, put myself out there.  It makes my heart happy and that is who I am to the core.

Now I'm going to vent.  Leave now if you can't handle it.  This is where the hard part comes in.
It is an impossible life when you see your child suffer every day.
It is an impossible life to hear your child say they hate themselves, to say they hate you.
It is an impossible life to explain to someone who sees your child at his best, that there is another side that is exactly opposite that he only feels safe enough to show to his family.
It is an impossible life to feel like you are helpless to your child.
It is an impossible life to fight with your child everyday.
It is an impossible life when your child can and does effectively tune you out completely.
It is an impossible life when your child says you don't love him.
It is an impossible life to hang your heart on a hook on the days where your child just needs to rage and you need to be strong.
It is an impossible life to help your child through night terrors that just don't seem to stop.
It is an impossible life to believe compliments of being a good mother when you yelled at your children moments before because they just wouldn't stop.
It is an impossible life to wait until they are asleep to cry.
It is an impossible life to fear the future for your child.
It is an impossible life to worry that your child might one day hurt themselves or you.
It is an impossible life to not be able to just kiss it better.
It is an impossible life to watch your child bang his head against the wall.
It is an impossible life to have to explain to other people why your child is acting the way he is.
It is an impossible life to be excluded from things because your child will be coming with you.
It is an impossible life to try to explain why life is harder for him but why he is so wonderfully unique.
It is an impossible life to hold your child while he cries because he can't control his stress.
It is an impossible life to be expected to be screamed at by your child for an hour and then next moment be asked for a hug by the same child.
It is an impossible life to be an advocate for your child when you are standing all alone against the world.
It is an impossible life when you can't have one day in your home that does not consist of major warfare between your children.
It is an impossible life when your child says he's stupid, even though he is gifted.

It is an impossible life when you are constantly banging your heart against the wall.

*Vent over...and yes I will still be smiling tomorrow but I'm allowed to be pissed off today.*

A Second to Breath ... and Think

It's an understatement to say that our lives have been a bit of a roller coaster lately.  So many times I've wanted to sit down to blog, and have written a dozen in my head, but didn't have the ambition or emotion to do it.  So here goes.  I'm going to make it as simple as I can, mostly because any one of the things that has happened lately would cause me to write a million words, and then I'll be writing a book.

Jake went to Ontario for 5 days.  I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but it was around here.  The boys have never been away from him (or I for that matter) for more than just overnight one time.  It was a hard transition for them and I sure felt it everyday.  It was pure and utter chaos.  And at the same time, I haven't been away from him for that long in a very very very long time and I missed him so very much.  I love that man.  His trip was good though.  He got to connect with all his siblings, his dad, his step mom and finally got to meet his stepsister and stepbrother.  Plus he got to visit his mom's grave for the very first time, which was something he so desperately needed.  It was only 5 days, but it meant everything to him to be able to go and he experienced some emotions that took him by surprise, but needed to be felt.

I started working out of the house again.  I still have my accounting clients and will probably still take a few more, but I really do enjoy working out of the house a bit too.  I found an awesome company to subcontract to and I adore the owner.  She and I are so similar in our thought process.  It's refreshing.  And of course the validation of a job well done is always so fulfilling.  I really really enjoy it.

My Aaron has had a bit of a tough go lately and most of this blog will be about him.  I won't go into detail about what happened, but we moved him to a new class that is better suited to give him what he needs emotionally, socially and academically.  It was a tough decision and we thought it over a lot.  Moving your kid six months into the school year is not an easy thing to do.  Obviously you need to have good reason or it won't even be considered by the school.  I made a list.  Weighed every option.  Put on my battle gear and did it.  Eventually what sealed the deal was when I asked Aaron what he thought of the idea.  Now you have to remember he does not like change and doesn't normally do well with transition.  "Aaron what do you think about maybe changing to a different class?"  Brightest eyes I have ever seen, "OK".  He was excited at the chance and hasn't looked back yet.  I'm thrilled he is so happy, but at the same time it kind of breaks my heart a bit for not seeing it sooner.  For not making sure he was in the right place, for not trusting my gut when I first thought he was in the wrong place.  It kind of threw me into a bit of a tailspin and the mom guilt was thick, but I am reminded that, "we do the best we can with what we know at the time and when we know better, we do better."

I cannot stress to parents enough that we need to hear our children, even when they aren't saying anything, we need to hear them.  As much of an advocate as I feel I am for my kids, this experience has caused me to realize I need to not only advocate for mine, I must advocate for all.  When something doesn't seem right to you, it is your responsibility as a human to ask why.  You were given intuition, trust it.  Battle gear is not off yet.

Again with Aaron...he went to the Tourettes clinic, after a very long wait, last Friday and it is confirmed that he has Tourettes.  I tell you, filling out forms for hours at a time is an emotion nightmare.  Answering these questions about my baby is not easy.  It is a hard glimpse into the reality that is his life and I feel so helpless in this process.  This is the first time I filled out forms where some of the questions were actually directed at him.  So we sat down together to go over them and it started off good with answer like:
I am sad many times.
I do most things ok.
I have fun in many things.
But when it came to more in depth questions, Aaron started getting upset very quickly and ended up scribbling all over the form, but answered with his honest feelings with:
I do not like myself.
Many bad things are my fault.
I want to kill myself. (No, I don't feel he would do it.)
This never gets easy.  Ever.  It's not just filling out forms, it's taking a look at what is and praying for answers, praying for direction, praying for my boys to have full and happy lives.

So, let me clarify what Aaron's Tourettes looks like because instantly everyone thinks of "movie" Tourettes.  He does not randomly swear or scream obscenities at anyone.  He ticks.  He squeaks.  He taps his knuckles on surfaces.  He blinks.  He does a little shoulder shrug.  He sniffles.  He says things without thinking (only when he's angry).  Not your normal things, but more like, I want to kill you, I want to kill myself.  These ticks are impulsive.  He doesn't always feel them coming.  He is getting better at noticing them and dealing with them.  They obviously come out more when he is angry, nervous, stressed.  They aren't always there, so don't look at him like he's a bomb about to go off.  For the most part they are subtle and plenty of people never even see them.  But, to him, they are huge.  Larger than life.  I'm so proud of him for being able to work through them.  At school, when he feels himself ticking or feels the urge to tick, he goes on a walk about, which just means his lovely teacher allows him to leave the classroom, follow his preplanned path through the school to the B.E.S.T. room, where he takes a break, collects himself, goes to the washroom, gets a drink, returns to class.  Our school is blessed with a behaviour team, I know I've mentioned it before, but they are responsible for finding this solution for him in school and it has been a life saver for him.

So one step closer to a diagnosis for Aaron, which is fabulous.  But, the doctor at the Tourettes clinic suggested that maybe Aaron has ADHD, which I don't feel is accurate...at all.  Perhaps he presents with some of the symptoms, but not enough to convince this momma.  Most certainly not enough for me to medicate the ADHD.  I'm not convinced.   But he does have a psycho educational assessment request approved and just waiting for a date and I am so happy.  Hopefully this will produce an accurate diagnosis.  As a disclaimer, I don't "need" there to be something different about my child, but as with anything that is life changing, I do "need" to know what we are dealing with and how to help him deal with it.

We had quite an ordeal at the dentist on Monday.  The boys both had appointments and were actually pretty happy going in.  They were talkative and sweet with the receptionist and she was quickly swooning over them.  But when it was time to go in for their appointments, Aaron wouldn't go.  He walked down the hall and quickly headed for the back of the office looking for a back door.  I had them take Adam in to show Aaron that it was okay.  That didn't work, Aaron was upset.  Hitting me, screaming, and holding his breath.  (It was our first time at this new dentist.)   They were understanding and thankfully the boys were the only patients in at the time.  Aaron eventually trusted himself enough to sit in the chair and let him clean his teeth.  But freaked the dental office out enough that the fillings he needs will be done at a pediatric dentist.  Standing amongst the drama of it all, I just don't understand how Adam clearly has Aspergers yet gladly and happily hopped into the dentist chair, making jokes like "look into my uvula" but Aaron who does not have a diagnosis seems to need so much more of our attention.

It is dawning on me more and more how often I need to explain Aaron's behaviour in public.  He still does pretty well at school keeping it to himself, but more and more it is coming out when we are somewhere else.  I'm worried what that might mean in his future.  He isn't on medication now, but of course it does enter my thoughts more and more.  I'm nervous to numb that beautiful mind of his.

So there is our roller coaster, it has many ups and downs.  Trust me.  So, as friends, do me a favour and let me be pissed off sometimes.  Let me vent and get it out.  Please just listen.  Don't try to fix it.  Don't give me sympathy.  Just understand and listen.  I get a lot of "it's not that bad" and "my kid does it too" when sometimes I just need to say "it sucks" and "I hate it".  Doesn't mean I hate my kids, just means I am tapped out.  I need the time, even just a couple of minutes, to recharge.  Most of the time that is as a happy and understanding me, but sometimes, it's a pissed off, can't take no more, I'm going to rip someone's face off me.  And that is okay.  I am still a human, but only human.

Our boys are amazing, funny, smart, kind and sweet.  They just get foggy sometimes and that's okay too.  We know who they really are and we work through the tough times.  Our house is always full of love, lots of times confusion, always excitement and adventure and I don't think I would recognize it any other way.  Definitely not an easy life, definitely not the life I envisioned us having, but this is our life and we make the most of every second of it.

Now I'm off to make Jello jiggler Easter eggs for the boys class.  Not because I have to, but because I feel good that I can, my boys enjoy the little things and it makes others feel good.  Win/win.  That's what life is about right?

Bingo! That Was A Victory

Been a few days since my last post.  I've started writing a few blogs in my head, but nothing that I felt like putting in type.  The boys have been home for a week and that just means busy busy busy.  It's been a good week for the most part, but a lot of parenting needed.  I had intentions of getting a lot of housework and organizing done, but played referee for the majority of every day.  There were highlights of course.  We watched movies, played games, had a play date, built a lot of Lego, went to a Kids Crazy Hat Bingo, perfected our paper Star Wars ship folding, read together, went skating, went out for breakfast, went to Elbow Falls and didn't really clean the house at all.  Got one room clean and organized.  The rest of the house is a disaster.  Wonderful to have the boys home, but a lot of work.  Every activity needs me to mediate or guide them somehow.  They really have a tough time playing and interacting with each other without me guidance.  It always starts out fun and playful, always ends screaming and fighting.  It's pretty tiring, but it's hard to leave them alone to play, so I stick close by for the most part.  I know one day I'll look back and be grateful for all those special moments when I was close by and got to share those times with then and I do truly love the time together, but right now, I just really would love a clean house.  Please, nobody pop in for a visit.  I would die.

In an effort to organize our house, I took the opportunity of having the boys home to have them help me clean out their room.  Get rid of some toys they no longer play with.  Organize what is left.  Sounds easy enough right?  Nope.  It's a big change and change doesn't happen very easily around here.  It took us three days.  It's not a huge room.  And that didn't even include their dressers.  This act alone caused so much anxiety and stress in our house over the week that looking back, I'm amazed we even got through it at all.  Good thing is, they have been keeping it clean, tidying it every night.  Now we have a large box of toys to get rid of.  Yay!

We did have a victory that I almost missed until I was sitting in the midst of it, in absolute awe and bewilderment.  I brought the boys to Crazy Hat Bingo on Friday night.  (Organized by a lovely mom group I belong to.)  The intention was for the kids to wear a crazy hat, come play bingo, dance a bit, and have some fun.  Well first of all, they had to drag out every hat they have, "crazied" them up and brought them all.  I think we had 12 in all.  They just could not decide which one to bring so they brought them all.  Always come prepared I guess.  They are Beaver Scouts after all.  Well we got there and Adam decided to wear his Space Helmet (thanks Mel - it's a bucket, cut to look like a space helmet - very cute).  Anytime anyone said it was a bucket, he was sure to correct them with, "No, it's a space helmet."  What a kid!  Aaron was undecided and changed his hat a few times.  First a viking hat, then an army helmet, then a beanie hat.  Completely undecided.  I guess it was his anxiety already creeping in.  He gets very anxious about fitting in and very competitive about games/sports.  We work on this by having family game night every Friday night, and he is getting better with us, but he had a tough time on Friday.

So, Adam won the very first game of bingo and was beyond thrilled.  Aaron waited and waited and just wasn't getting any numbers.  The happiness and excitement was wearing off really fast and I could feel it.  I made sure to stay close to him so I could put out any fires that sparked.  He was getting more anxious with every game, really with every number called.  This is hard to explain because so few people see it happen and I know if anyone who was there reads this they will say that both boys were great.  It is true that we see what our kids are doing more than anyone else does.  It is also very true that Aaron has a way of making sure I know he is stressed out and I know what he is doing that mostly only I see.  He's a master at this.  Does it at school all the time.  He makes sure I know how he is feeling but hides it so well from others.  And I guess at the same time, it is me that should be in tune with him to pick up on his signals...and I do.  So as each number is called, Aaron is getting more and more anxious, clenching his fists and his teeth, holding his breath, getting angry, his face is turning beat red.  I try explaining that every child there would like to win but that isn't how it works and that he needs to just enjoy seeing his friends and have a good time.  He doesn't even hear me.  Eventually I get him to sit on my lap, hoping I can help him settle.  Works only for a few minutes, then he's stomping on my toes every time he doesn't get a number and if I get too close he tries to head butt me.  It's difficult.  I want to leave but Adam is enjoying himself and trying to win again so he can let Aaron pick a prize.  (He sure does have his wonderful moments, that boy.  So kind and thoughtful.)  I also don't want to leave because I think it is important that my boys face the situations they find difficult and any opportunity when I can be there with them when they face them, is a win/win for us.

It's hard to watch your child go through this.  Watching him itching to dance with the other kids between bingo games but not trusting himself enough to just go and do it.  Dancing is something he loves to do and does it so very well.  Already at this young age watching stress and anxiety control how he feels about himself, worrying about judgement and teasing if he should have a misstep.  Adam felt it a bit too and didn't want to dance, but he was so joyful, he just couldn't contain it and went and busted a move or two.  Back to bingo, Aaron says, "Why is Adam getting numbers and I'm not?"  What do you say?  And then comes the Law of Attraction.  "Adam doesn't care if he wins or not.  He's just enjoying himself and being happy.  When you are happy, good things happen.  When you are unhappy, bad things happen."  It sunk in!  He just looked at me with knowing eyes and he got it.  Then he says, "I need to go be alone a little to calm down.  Please watch my bingo card."  And that is what he did.

That was the victory.  He got it.  It didn't necessarily last and it didn't change his mood much, but I know the seed is planted.  That's all I needed, just a sign that it can happen.  It's a small victory, but it's a huge step.  This is the reason we don't medicate, this is our hope for his future.  Just the acknowledgement that we can teach him to recognize his stress and take actions to control it.  Aha!

He didn't dance, he didn't win, he didn't need too ... he grew.

The evening also showed me that although the quest to get a diagnosis for Aaron has been so long, it is still necessary.  As a parent in this situation, I am constantly looking for a shimmer of light saying there is nothing different about my child, always second guessing, always researching, always searching for an answer.  Sitting there with Aaron in my lap while he's stressing out, while Adam (who has an Aspergers diagnosis) is happily playing bingo, not a care in the world, it baffles me that in reality Aaron often shows more signs of Aspergers than Adam, but Adam got the diagnosis rather quickly (at only 5) and we are still fighting for Aaron's (he's 7).  I've been told there is nothing wrong with him, just really smart and I should medicate him (not by our doctor) but I know that is not the case.  He is a very smart, gifted boy, but that is not what is doing this to him.  That is not what has him even questioning his own actions.

Anyways, it has taken me all day to write this blog.  The boys have been on edge a bit after getting back to school today and Adam was a very grumpy bear going to bed.  He ended up rolling himself into a tight little ball and literally growling himself to sleep.  Of course, Aaron picked up on that energy, as he always does, and just woke up with a night terror.  But, I was able to snap him out of it rather quickly, guiding him into the bathroom for a pee, getting him a drink of water and a little foot massage.  Only about 20 minutes of shrieking on his part this time.  I'm especially thankful that my hubby is learning how to deal with these things as they arise and is trusting me and listening to me when I tell him what works and what doesn't.  He is a wonderful and patient man, I'm so happy that he is seeing that this is something we need to work with, not wish away.

So, as I was tucking Aaron in he gave me the nicest compliment, "I'm so lucky to have a nice mommy like you that understands my stresses."  I told him that love is what taught me how to do that and I kissed him good night.  He flashes me that sweet innocent smile that he's been giving me since he was just a tiny baby, looking up at me with so much love and adoration in his eyes.  Melts me every single time.  He's just my little boy and time could stand still in that second and I would be fulfilled.

My Labels Opinion: Not Just a Bird, It's an Eagle

I'm tired of hearing people say "I hate labels" when in actuality, our society thrives on labels.  On our clothes, on our cars, on our neighbourhoods, you name it.  So why then, is it wrong to put an ASD (autism spectrum disorder) label on your child?  I've never understood this.  It is necessary to get the help you need for your child to thrive but it's almost taboo.  And sure enough, any time you do talk about an assessment or diagnosis, someone has to say "I hate labels".  If the child is on the honor roll, or an athlete, or a musician, parents are sure to point out those labels.  I wish I didn't require the labels that my boys have, but in truth, you get no help if they have no label.  Sometimes even with a label you get ignored.  To get what my boys need to deal with their behaviour or their challenges, we need a label.  Yes, every child is different and they are all unique, I get it, but why is there so much debate over labeling kids on the spectrum?  Why is there so much stigma?  Growing up no one got a label and a lot of those kids, now people, fell through the cracks.  They were ignored as bad kids instead of kids that need something to thrive.  Statistics show that a huge majority of what would be considered some of the most brilliant minds the world has ever known were on the spectrum, aspergers most often.  Let's see, Hans Christian Andersen, Emily Dickinson, Albert Einstein, Charles Richter, Glenn Gould, Thomas Jefferson, Stanley Kubrick, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Isaac Newton, Andy Warhol, W.B. Yeats, Jonathan Swift, just to name a few.  Why wouldn't I want to link my child with the greatness of these people?  Oh, I get it, because it isn't aesthetically pleasing.  Aspergers or any ASD isn't always pretty.  But it is necessary to know what is going on with your child so you can help your child.  I often see children that have so much to give, but they are blocked by the ignorance of their parents.  Mom and Dad don't want to admit that their child isn't ... normal.  Well, here is the news, normal is just normal.  There are plenty of others as well, great minds, steered in the wrong direction, like Hitler, Jeffery Dahmer, Ted Bundy, Charles Manson, eck, I won't even continue this list.  Was it ignorance to their needs that led them astray?  Perhaps. 

We have known for some time that our boys were not normal.  I remember the day Aaron changed.  Engraved in my memory and it always brings me tears.  Not because I require him to be normal, but because being anything but normal brings some hardships that nobody wants their child to endure.  I cried for three days when I was given Adam's official diagnosis just a few months ago.  Knowing something and hearing that it is true is gut wrenching.  I'm tired of getting the sympathetic "I'm sorry" and having to explain what aspergers is and having to reassure other people that my boys will be okay in the long run.  Right now, in the midst of it, is hard.  Harder than most would even want to know, but their futures are lined with silver.  There will be down days for them.  Finding their place in society will be their most difficult task, but they will live lives of great men.  How can I say that?  Because I believe it.  Because I give them tools everyday to deal with challenges bigger than them.  Because it is their fate.  They were given these labels because they are unique.  Because they have more to give.  I am especially tired of people thinking they need to convince me that my boys are fabulous and so special.  I know that already.  I don't believe it is the aspergers that causes them so much duress, I believe it is the world's perception of aspergers that causes the duress.  It will forever be difficult to fit a square peg in a round hole.  If the label isn't the popular choice, it seems to always be the wrong choice.  Greater minds than ours are what make progress in this world, but we stiffle them rather than embrace what they truly are.  We only want to reap the rewards of those minds, we don't want to see them at work.

I hardly feel qualified to provide my boys with the tools necessary to achieve their goals.  But somehow I've been chosen to do this and it teaches me so much.  It changes me everyday.  Some nights when everyone has gone to sleep, I just sit there in the dark and be still.  Just waiting for the new me to catch up with the physical me.  Waiting for the energy of the day to stop and the metamorphosis happen.  Mind you, sometimes I just cry because it is very overwhelming and my body can't do anything else at that moment but release.  Crying is the easiest release.  Sometimes  I just sit in stunned silence and breathe.

I was explaining snow rainbows to the boys this morning, which is so very cool to see.  How the sun knows it's not raining on the earth, but there is a cloud or two that has a lot of water in them, so the sun let's those clouds do what they must and we get to see what that looks like, but only if we are paying attention.  Snow rainbows aren't big, but they are there and those that are looking get the treat of seeing them.  After witnessing it this morning, Adam tells me when we get to school.  "Mommy, I was watching that snow rainbow and I'm thinking.  Why am I me?  Why am I myself?  Completely me.  My body works on it's own.  My brain works on it's own.  Why?"  How to answer this and he demands an answer.  Trying to understand, I have to ask, "What do you mean?  Why can you have your own thoughts and function on your own without someone making it work like a robot?"  Yes he says.  So I told him, "You have a purpose in life.  You were given free will to accomplish what you need to.  No one can tell you what that is or how to do it.  You were given your mind, your body, your soul, your heart to find that and do it."  He was satisfied.  He is 6.

Wow, I think it's safe to say I have an opinion.  This wasn't the blog I was going to write today.  I was going to explain how awesome it was to go to the wave pool with Jake and the boys this weekend.  We had fun and not a lot of issues.  It was a new experience and we always try to set them up for success and it was pretty successful.  Aaron felt very brave, which was awesome, but then kept trying to run away from me.  Spent a lot of his time trying to go and do his own thing, which is fine at a certain distance, but then the smallest thing would have him running back to me.  If I'm not close enough, he would have melt down.  It's scary stuff.  Be close, but not too close.  I was also going to blog about Adam's friend's birthday party experience.  He didn't have us or Aaron there with him and I gave the mom my number to call if he needed anything.  Made sure to let her know he has aspergers.  Had to explain what it was.  Got a call about 1 1/2 hours in.  He was in the washroom crying and wanted his mom.  He didn't feel like he could wipe his bum himself and do a good enough job.  Yes I know.  He's sensitive about it and they didn't have the right toilet paper for him.  Yes I know.  I came, he had calmed down and was having fun by the time I got there.  So I let him keep playing and just stayed there with him, on the insistence of the parents.  But of course, heard a few of their adult friends talking about the boy in the dark blue shirt.  It's frustrating and heartbreaking.  Adam always wins over the room though.  Everyone singing Happy Birthday and he's the boy who gets them all singing cha cha cha after every line of the song.  He's the one heckling the magician.  He's the one using his manners and thanking the mom for inviting him.  That was the blog I was going to write.

The blog I did write came from my drive home from the school this morning.  After discussing my boys with a dear friend at the school and some label issues we have had recently, I was lost in thought and contemplation when I stopped to watch a baby eagle and a mama eagle in the trees by our house.  Two more eagles landed in the tree next to them.  I always tell the boys that seeing an eagle is good luck.  I have always felt a connection to them.  So in contemplating my conversation with my friend, it dawned on me, that even an eagle is not just a bird, nor does it have the desire to be just a bird, it's an eagle, it's proud of it, you can see it, an eagle doesn't care if you believe it is more than a bird, it is majestic.  You can never just call an eagle a bird.  Never.  I dare you.  It just feels wrong.  It's an eagle.  My boys are not just boys and they need to be proud of that too.  I need to make sure they know that not conforming to what is expected but doing what feels right is a better label to wear and they need to be proud of it, just like an eagle.

Play The Hand You Are Dealt

It's a tricky hand to play when your children are on the spectrum.    There is a constant game in play.  You always have cards in your hand.  Do you play that one now?  Do you stay?  What do you do?  This is not a game of solitaire.  No no no.  Everyone your children interact with are  playing the game with you.  They probably don't even realize how much a part of the game they are.  They might not even know the rules.  Well, no one really knows the rules, they change depending on who is in the game and who's kid is at play.  But nonetheless, every one of their moves, even just their thoughts, change the hand you will play.

I'm facing an obstacle I didn't expect with Aaron.  His tourettes is getting a bit out of control lately.  That's not the problem we are facing.  The problem is that he's having a hard time hiding it like he usually does.  Don't get me wrong, I don't require him to hide it.  I require him to do what feels right for him.  He knows he is perfect in our eyes, but how he deals in a social setting is up to how he feels.  He has chosen to fly under the radar and try to go unnoticed.

Yesterday he ticked a lot and it was pointed out.  It wasn't intentionally done to cause him any duress, but it was done.  And he felt horrible.  I picked the boys up from school and he told me immediately.  I won't go into details about what happened exactly, I don't want to publicly chastise anyone.  He was upset.  We came home and he hid under a mountain of pillows and blankets on our bed for hours.  Screaming, crying, wanting me there but only hitting me and telling me to go, hating school, hating himself, calling himself stupid, wanting to die.  It's horrible.  We have been here before and it never gets easy to hear or see.  Never.  And all I could do was cry with him.

You can barely see his head in the middle there.  Dudley his RCMP stuffy guarding him.

He has done an amazing job keeping up to his peers.  He blends in nicely at school.  If you know what he struggles with, you can see it, but it's not easy.  He does this.  This isn't what we asked him to do, this is what he figured out how to do and every year of school he gets better at hiding it.  It's amazing that he can.  Aspergers is a very social issue.  His genius little brain figured this out early on.  And now in grade two, he's been outed as being different.  He's crushed.  It's sad to see that something so slight that would not have affected an average child has such a deep affect on him.  It's a sad reality of his life though.  To most families this would be a non-issue, but to this family, it is a huge issue.  This could be a turning point to him.  People with tourettes go to great lengths to veil their problem any way they can.  I don't think I can fold this hand, I can't even discard.  This game is not over.

I have great support at the school when dealing with my boys and it isn't something I want to compromise.  So my hand just got very difficult.  What does this mama need to do?  That's the hand I'm playing now.  Do I hope that the lesson has been learned by the person who did this?  Or do I go in and make sure the lesson has been learned?  I have utmost respect for every single employee of that school, I love and adore them all.  But I have told the story many many times about Aaron's issues.  It is well known by everyone who deals with him on a daily basis.  So when this person was confronted with yesterday's problem, by a neutral party, this person let them know that they do not believe there is anything wrong with Aaron.  Excuse my language, but are you fucking kidding me?

Obviously nobody knows but me of all the night terrors, fights, anxiety, stress, confusion, paranoia, just to start the list slowly, that I deal with on a daily basis just from him alone.  I am thrilled he does such a good job fitting in, but as soon as we leave the school, the cork pops on that bottle and we are in for it.  I'm annoyed.  No, I'm past annoyed.  I'm furious and I'm discouraged.  I've been trying to help Aaron deal with these issues for over 5 years now.  I have jumped through so many hoops I should be in the fucking circus.  I have gone to the moon and back making sure that all the T's were crossed, the I's were dotted and I put a fucking smiley face on every damn exclamation mark.  I have waited on every waiting list.  I've filled out every form, some over 30 pages long, some of them twice.  I have done all tests necessary.  I'm the mom who when asked for something says, "we already did that, here are the results."  So to be told that this person does not believe that there is anything wrong with him, made me want to vomit.  Made me feel like all that had been for not and that my child is just floating.  Just treading water.

This is my child.  I know him better than anyone.  I grew him.  If I say this is how things are, you believe this is how they are.  I don't want this for him.  Why say he doesn't have aspergers or anxiety or tourettes or sensory issues?  Is that an assumption that I would want him to have it?  I want this for him?  It's beyond me.  It's like saying, "my child is allergic to spaghetti."  And someone saying, "no he isn't, I haven't seen a reaction."  WTF.  I endeavor to make sure that Aaron is treated like everyone else, but at the same time, it needs to be remembered that if aspergers or tourettes show up, that is handled differently.  As the child with an allergy.  Everything is the same, but if spaghetti shows up, here is the protocol.  Not rocket science.

Now to find my grace.  In all situations that upset me.  I like to think it through, process it and come out the other end shining like a fucking diamond.   I will put on my mom hat, but not the frilly, cute one.  I will get some answers and some results very very soon.  Anyone who knows me and knows how I operate, knows that there will be some results.  I don't back down.  I come ready for the fight.  I don't get nasty.  I get results.  And I usually leave the person giving the results with a sense of satisfaction as well.  I don't intend to be mean or cruel, just effective.  I am after all, the Queen of Fucking Diamonds and this is my hand, my game, my cards, my child.

And now I can breathe...

Moms Only See The Rainbows

It was my mom's birthday on January 31. She's an angel on earth. Anyone who has met her would agree with that 100%. And for that I am blessed. The earth was given a gift the day she was born. She has taught me so many things and I bet she doesn't even realize how many. Her approach to life is to embrace everything with love, kindness, understanding and hope. She aches for her family, even still, even as we age. Our choices aren't always what she would want for us, but she loves us all with more heart than a body could hold. Always wanting life to be just a little easier for every one of us. And yet, she sees all the good, even if it's covered in dirt and pain and frustration, she sees it there and picks it up every time. Stuffing it in her pocket, not making any noise about it, but knowing that just by being in her presence it will be saved and made whole again. I all too often hear people complain about their mothers and how annoying or bothersome they can be and I just can't imagine not having this sweet and wonderful woman as my mom. I look at my boys and see the closeness we share everyday and it's hard to imagine myself even in those shoes as a child. Sharing that kind of bond with someone and then I realize that I did share that and I do share that. The wholeness of the relationship I have with my mom has just become so much a part of my makeup that I don't even recognize it as a conscious act. It just is. I love her so very much, she is my queen. I hope she always knows my undying devotion, admiration and respect for her and I can only pray that I am the mom to my boys that she is to me.

Knowing my mom as well as I do, I knew that all she would want for her birthday is time. So I took my mom out for lunch and some shopping the day after her birthday. We talked a lot about her upbringing. She was also blessed with an amazing mom. But she told me more about their migration to Ontario, Canada from Mexico in the back of a 3 ton truck, when she was just a young girl. Her and her whole family were brought here to essentially work as slaves in fields. They even lived outside for the first couple weeks, in that field, sleeping around a fire at night. Their parents staying awake at night to make sure the fire wouldn't go out. I asked her if they were not discouraged. "Nope. It was an adventure for us kids. The field was beside the dump and that meant we ate better than we ever had in our lives." Wow. Again with the rainbows. I aspire to be like her. I also think it might be time to dig into our genealogy.

Here she is with my boys. They absolutely adore her.

I volunteered at school today, like I do every Monday and was kind of having a revelation of my own. Every Monday, like all Mondays, was filled with "how was your weekend?" And as I was saying fine, I was trying to recall my weekend. Then I did and I remembered that during the weekend, I had many many moments of utter despair but at that moment and when I woke up this morning, I felt refreshed and hopeful, remembering a fine weekend. We really didn't do much. We definitely didn't do what we expected to do.

Saturday we went and got some new snow helmets for the boys and some skates for Jake. Aaron spotted a bicycle in Canadian Tire and before we even knew it he was on it. He can't ride a two wheeler yet. He doesn't trust himself enough. We have tried and tried and it just isn't worth the fight anymore. He will when he is ready. So he rides with training wheels very well. He's scooting down the aisle and not listening to us. We get upset. He freaks out and is way off the deep end. What should just be a quite little correction from us, has resulted in a huge blow up from him and plenty of looks from others. Always fun. I got a lovely judgemental, your kid is an ass look from one man. I don't pass those by anymore. I gave him one back and said, "My son has aspergers." I saw a lady smirk and shake her head at the man's insensitivity, then she gave me a knowing smile. She knew what I meant and possibly what I was dealing with. That's all it takes.

So, in an effort to recover the day we planned a pizza and movie night at home. But, as it turns out, there was too much fighting and we watched the whole movie in 10 minute spurts because someone had to pee, someone had to whine, someone needed this, someone needed that, the dogs needed to go out, someone wanted a blanket, someone needed a drink, mommy was frustrated and done. There was fighting and carrying on and I kept thinking, why do we have to fight even just to have a nice evening? Why are we forcing them to enjoy themselves? Bedtime was no better. Whining for this and that and the other thing. Ugh.

Sunday we were going to go skating, but the boys could not focus enough to just get ready. Then Adam got it in his head that we should go swimming instead. Which was out of the question. This momma hadn't shaved her legs. Wow, did he scream. And when he has his mind set on something, he sees nothing else. So, we calmly told them one last time, "We are ready to go skating. If you don't get ready now, we aren't going anywhere." They didn't get ready. We didn't say another word and we didn't go anywhere. The looks on their faces about an hour later when they discovered that we weren't going anywhere, was absolutely priceless. It was a victory on our part. They were pissed off, but they saw that we weren't backing down and quickly dropped the subject. We had dealt with enough from the day before that we just weren't going to put up with anything. They instead resisted many other things last night and fought us tooth and nail on a few. When bedtime rolled around, we were very ready to say good night.

Then something magical happened. They went to sleep perfectly last night. Hugs, kisses, snuggles, love all around. And that's all it took for me to see the rainbow. I had a great weekend.

When In Doubt, Laugh About It

Started the day by having an impromptu breakfast date with a fellow mom who's son is autistic.  We have so much in common and we always chat for longer than either of us expect it, while scurry our kids to their classrooms.  Today we just said screw it, let's go have breakfast (after an hour long chat in the halls).  It is so nice and refreshing to have another person to relate to.  It's nice to know there is someone else dealing with the same kind of frustrations and having the same kind of revelations and triumphs at the same time.

Had an otherwise normal day.  Ran some errands.  Did some accounting.  I've been finding myself anxious lately, I guess waiting for something to happen.  There is always something happening and lately, working strictly from home, I'm actually at home sometimes with just me and the dogs and, although I'm so grateful I can do this, I'm learning how to enjoy some quiet again.  Which is odd after so much noise always for so long.

I did drive past the school this afternoon on my way home, just as the lunch recess was ending.  Saw Adam walking into the school with his lovely friend.  She is so sweet.  He is the proverbial apple of her eye.  He let all the other kids into the school ahead of him and then spoke with the teacher holding the door for a few minutes.  I was quite a ways away, but I could still hear that he was getting upset, something must have happened at recess that he couldn't process.  I don't know what it was, still don't, but I sat there and cried for a while.  Sometimes you can catch a glimpse into the struggle that may be ahead of your child and when you do, it's a bit scary.

Anyways, Aaron had a pretty great day and it carried over to most of the evening.  He is the classroom manager tomorrow so he was pretty excited to get his show and tell ready and write a story to go along with it.  I so hope that he won't let his nervousness get in his way when his time comes tomorrow.  He was so proud of his story and he did such a great job.  But, he usually ends up crumpling it up and shoving it into his pocket instead of reading it to the class.  I could see the anxiety of it coming out already at bedtime and he ended up picking a fight with me so he had a reason to cry himself to sleep.  He is grounded from playing with the DS because he has now broken his for the second time because he was angry and figured he would bug to play our 3DS.  He doesn't lose very well, so when he does, the ds gets it and he thinks since his is broken, the one we bought for the family should be his now.  Not going to happen.  He screamed in bed for a good half hour before falling asleep.  I'm so amazed that I had the patience to listen to it.

Adam was a bit rowdy tonight, but in the silly way.  Which is him being funny, but he can push it too far.  In the midst of it, he called me from the hallway.  I begrudgingly come down the hall, definitely a bit agitated, because he has been climbing the walls.  He's standing there, with his goofy Denise-the-Menace smile, one sock off, no pants, peed in underwear, a shirt that he has been chewing on all day (he does that when he gets a stuffy nose), it's wet up to his elbow on one arm, and you can see he's hit the wall. So he says, "I think I need a bath to reset me."  I didn't even know what to say to him, all disheveled like that.  I just laughed.

Amidst all of this, our beautiful boxer boy Gunner does everything he can to try to keep those boys calm.  He had a busy night tonight going back and forth between these boys.  I swear that pup came into our lives for a reason.  He knows how to comfort them and he knows when they need it.  He takes all the affection he can get and gives more than anyone could imagine.  He has blessed us so much.  I swear he's the Asperger Whisperer...and for that, damn right, he gets to sleep in our bed.  (**disclaimer.  This does not mean I love him more than Velvet or DeJa.  They serve amazing purpose in our home as well.)