Autism In Our House

So, last night b set up the play station move in the living room. As I’m doing dishes, I hear the boys laughing and all having a good time. B challenges me first to a game of disc golf…lets just say there was one element missing that must be the only reason disc golf is fun…not that I’ve ever played disc golf. Then, b challenges me to bocci ball. I changed my avatar because my avatar while playing disc golf threw herself on the ground and had a tantrum…seriously! Well, I ditched belle and selected Giselle. Giselle had on booty shorts (shear). With a thong
underneath…I think. Chet kept asking why she had a wedgie. B kept asking I’if I wanted to play another match. 😉

Then, at 4 am, big brudder woke with a headache. I gave him Advil and sent him back to bed. Didn’t take his temp or anything. Then, dentist and orthodontist. We get home this afternoon, guess who has fever…and an earache. Mother. Of. The. Year.

On the bright side, the expander is working nicely AND I’m getting some serious cuddles in!

Xoxo

Maybe I’m late to this realization. Early this morning as I was reading about the latest school shooting, and how the shooter was possibly tormented by classmates, I had a thought. We would never say to a person who had been verbally or physically abused by their spouse, “oh, this is just part of life. It will make you stronger one day.” Why then, can we justify teasing, name calling and physical violence perpetrated by one child onto another with this rationale?  I realize that yes, bullying can make one stronger IF they can muster through.  But sometimes, bullying does exactly what it’s intended to do.  It can make a child feel worthless, sad, depressed, angry, alone.  It’s the last one that breaks my heart the most. Alone.

I recognize there are some problems with my thought process. In the case of kids, they are both kids. The perpetrator can not see the potential for lasting effects. That’s where it’s our job as moms and dads and grandparents, aunties, uncles, teachers, pastors, friends to instill kindness. Instill empathy. Instill compassion. Instill a sense of right.

I can’t say I never said ugly things about people. I’d be a liar if I did. This fact makes me sad. I wish I could take back some of the hurt I probably caused some poor child in middle school. I wish I’d had the courage to stand up for the weird, the quiet, the chunky, the one with glasses, or the one who just didn’t quite fit in. I am teaching my children this, I hope.

I’m not saying shooting your bully is ever an okay option. It’s not. But the human brain has a breaking point. A child’s breaking point may be lower than yours or mine now that we are grownups…

As I see schools trying to combat bullying with zero tolerance policies and participating in Rachel’s Challenge, I still see lots of hate oozing from children. What’s the culprit? What can we do? What can I do? Am I perfect?  Heck no!  Do I judge people?  Sure.  Do I say things I shouldn’t or wish that I hadn’t.  Yep.  I do try and stop and realize what I’ve said and think about it. Recognize it. Own it. Hopefully, learn from it. I don’t think we are a family of bullies. We try to live our lives in a way that makes us proud of ourselves and each other.  So, I am saddened. I will begin looking, scouring for a way to make it stop.

With peace and love in my heart,
K

So the new year started off with a bang! Brian and I had a fun, relaxing date night have a couple of shiners and playing shuffle board (it really IS fun) and enjoying each others company. Then, bang! On our way home, we get a call from Brian’s sister. Joe and Chet had a meeting of the minds and Chet’s lip is busted.

We drive (proud no speeding was involved) to the ER to meet Brian’s mom and dad with the wee one. Holy cow! He’s bitten a hole through his lip! First ER doc says. I’ll stitch him up, no problem. Ten minutes later, he comes back in…well, this is more complex than I thought. I want to give you the option of going to a hospital with a plastics doctor on call. So at 11 pm, we head to San Antonio. The ER doc tries to basically bully us into letting her stitch the wee ones lip. We almost give in, but the nurse says, “are you SURE you don’t want to wait for plastics?” It turns out a PS won’t come in in the middle of the night unless it’s a life or death situation. So at 3 am they tell us to come back tomorrow at 7. Fortunately, there was a motel 6 right across the street. The three of us got a few hours of shut eye and headed BAKC across the street at 7 where we check into the 2nd ER for the third time. We wait for about an hour and then are told a PS won’t come see us until 6 pm but one could work us into his schedule at his office. So, we make another trek to the PS office where for the first time I hear the wee one cry (shriek, really) at the sight of a needle. Numbing shot in. Watched the doc clean the wound really, REALLY well., and then stitch my baby up with what looked like a gold toned fishing hook.

So far so good. The swelling is down and he’s able to talk and eat nicely. He’s easing over his fears of re-injury at school.

After all this craziness, we were all ready to get back into a routine!

Last night, I was bribing the boys to try avocado (didn’t work…they wouldn’t do it). I told them avocado was really good for their testicles. It is. Don’t judge! So, j says, “I don’t know what those are.”
So I explained their location. He said, “are they to aid in our buoyancy?” After in turned around to hide my laughter and composed myself, I said “No, babe. They are part of your reproductive system.” He says, “are they sperm holders.” I say, “yep, bud, they are.” I guess he’s watched enough animal planet and various documentaries to know more than mom. He’s always good for a chuckle. I did explain that sperm, testicles and reproductive systems were not information we need to pass along at school. We shall see how long before I get a phone call or email about that.

Xoxoxo

Warning: this mama has a heart that is pounding. My palms are sweating. It’s like just before we see the hulk.

I know that in the wake of the mass murder of innocent children in CT, we are all looking for the why! But here is why I’m sad, I’m mad and I’m scared. I feared this since the first utterance of the word s autism and Aspergers on the news. I see people who I’ve been friends with for twenty plus years and acquaintances “like” posts where someone had talked about “these crazies” who are “weird” needing to be locked away before they can do something like this. Some of these Facebook friends claim our lack of prayer in school is why this happened.

I am sick. I am scared. As had as it was to decide to get an Aspergers diagnosis for j was emotionally, now I’m scared for his future. I see people I’ve always felt we’re kind, loving people turn into an angry mob. Some may as well have pitch forks and torches. I fear that a few of j’s teachers who don’t erm “care for him” will now target him. Maybe that fear isn’t rational, but I’m seeing some scary stuff.

A friend said to me “I hope they find out this kid had something else wrong.” My thinking is this: first, the damage is done in so many ways. They won’t retract the autism statement. People already have the opinions. Secondly, then a whole other group of parents will worry for their kids. I think the autism community is strong enough for this. Finally, just as I can’t make others change how they feel, I can not un-see what you’ve “liked” or statuses you’ve commented on. I appreciate the eye opening insight into your true feelings.

Peace love and blessings to you all!

So yesterday I was on Facebook, whining about dealing with my insurance for 30 minutes.  Then, I clicked over to yahoo.  I immediately felt sick.  I’d been joking around without knowing of the unthinkable atrocities that had taken place in Connecticut.

I have so many emotions, like everyone else.  First, I didn’t believe it happened.  Then, anger. LOTS of anger.  Then, sheer grief and the desire to pick my kids up early from school.

Last night I realized that I had another very mixed emotion.  This shooter.  This troubled young man.  HE was someones child.  Someone’s brother.  HE was loved by someone.  Just because he did these terrible, vile things it doesn’t erase that fact.

Then, this morning, as I’m perusing the internet looking for more information in my already information overloaded brain, I see what I was dreading.  The shooter was diagnosed with Asperger’s.  Damn It. Then I see all sorts of comments I know I shouldn’t read at the bottom of a story.  They anger me even when reading a “fun” article.  But the cries of “lock the crazies up” have left me feeling even more ill.  One person took the leap to say that because someone with ASD lacks empathy it makes them MORE prone to violence.

Can someone with ASD commit such crimes?  Sure. The Autism community isn’t immune to atrocities.  But let me be clear.  People with Autism DO have empathy.  It may not present in the way you want it to, but it IS there.  I had an afternoon snack with one of my dearest friends yesterday.  Her child also has Asperger’s.  Guess what he did?  He gave his sister is jacket because she was cold.  They may not react the way you want them to at news of someone’s passing.  But they are processing in a way that is so much more complex than the neurotypical.  So, please, don’t blame Autism.  Autism isn’t responsible for this madness. Autistic people aren’t “crazies” who need to be locked up.

I know we feel like we need a “Why.”  There isn’t always an answer.  My choice today is to follow the advice of Fred Rogers:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.” — Mister Rogers