Tag Archives: Few Days

Question?: Pdd-nos Checklist

Laura asks…

3 year old daughter’s speech. Need other parents’ advice!?

A few days ago, I read a book titled, “The Einstein Syndrome: Bright Children Who Talk Late” by Thomas Sowell. The book is of course about children who don’t speak or speak very little until they are between 2-4 years old. It emphasizes that bright children also can begin to speak very early, but (focuses on those who do not.)

My daughter is nearly 3. She does not carry on a conversation with anyone, points to most things she wants or we have to “read” her to pick up on what she needs. She sings the alphabet song, counts 1-20, says some sentences that I can comprehend but other sentences I cannot understand. Most times, I only know she is speaking actual sentences when she is going along with what she has “memorized” from commercials or movies while watching them- sometimes she just sits down and recites the movies and commercials from memory, although her words “jumble” together to the point where someone who didn’t know her wouldn’t know she was actually talking. She also loves to cuddle, hug, and play with other children, and she seems to understand some commands very well, and at other times she does not.

I read in the above book that “experts” are too quick to label a child “slow”, autistic, or as having Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder when the child is only highly intelligent, strong willed, or just going at his or her own time-frame when it comes to social interactions and learning the practicalities of everyday life. Many of the late talkers in his study grew up to be engineers, mathematicians, or in other fields which require significant analytical skills. I am not suggesting that my daughter will be a genius. I just have a feeling that she should be allowed to “prosper” naturally. Certain people-those who haven’t had children in 30-60 years and one controlling, passive aggressive doctor (forgive me God for the criticism) who wouldn’t respect my questions and suggestions as a parent-think she needs help! I know that there are excellent professionals out there but, if there are any PARENTS with similar children, I would love your input! I have already read about parents of adult children who had similar “difficulties” as children and had no medical intervention; those adults are doing well.

I do not want to overlook a “problem” that may in fact exist. I am very nervous about taking my daughter to a specialist who may interpret a problem where there is none. I know I’m probably answering my own question, but…

What do you think?
A specialist can’t always tell the difference in my opinion, but thank you soooo much Sari Lynn for your insight!
Thank you Happymomof2. All I can say is that I know what you mean about worrying when I shouldn’t and being made to feel that what is actually “normal” is a delay or problem. I know I shouldn’t worry. My gut tells me everything is okay. It’s only an insecurity that gets me to ask for other people’s opinions about my daughter. I am a stay at home mom and will continue to work with her in a steady fashion. I know she will “catch up!”
Lauren R, I will surely take your advice! Thanks for the info! I worry about being impressionable and influenced if I were to find services available to my daughter, but realizing that I would be in total control of her health and safety help me to not be afraid to work with the professionals if I have to!
ADDED: In the meantime, why don’t you read information from reputable, science-based sources rather than pop-culture sensationalistic books (see below for links).
The Einstein story makes me crazy: Einstein was a genius in one particular area, but a total incompetent in many social (communication!) areas,~Anonymous

Anonymous, it seems as though you’re trying to be “kind” in your response. But, I don’t feel comfortable. I worry enough about my daughter, which is why I’m afraid to go to a specialist who may refer to her as “incompetent”! So, what would that make the specialist? Maybe she does need speech therapy, but I will be sure not to go to someone who labels her “incompetent”! Who says you do well in all your social interactions with others-you just learn to disguise your “fumbles” through the way you’ve learned to communicate!
I stated “I know that there are excellent professionals out there but, if there are any PARENTS with SIMILAR children, I would love your input!”
EDIT: THANK YOU so much for your post Beetlemilk. I will take heed to and look into all the info you have given me!

admin answers:

You are the foremost expert on your child, not any doctor.

I am very similar to your daughter and am 38 yrs old. My father has similarities too. In 1975 I was referred to a behavioral psychologist for peculiar vernacular, and addressing my parents by their names and not pronouns. I was promptly diagnosed ‘Autistic’. I went on to receive many diagnoses, most which were inaccurate like 1978’s school psychologist Stanford-Binet IQ test that resulted in mentally retarded. An independent test I hit the ceiling and was diagnosed as super gifted. I am very bright, I have some social quirks, its functional. I’ve gotten married, had children, held a job, drive, graduated many times from college. I’ve been diagnosed 7x as autistic, 3 were diagnosed asperger’s.

My father was diagnosed Autistic in 1950. He is a director and psychologist for a residential autistic setting. He is thrice times married. He is gifted, has a rather flat affect most of the time and is difficult to engage in conversation. He was hyperlexic, reading @ age 2. He is asperger’s and was diagnosed in 1988 when I was.

I have a son diagnosed autistic and I disagree. Autism like ADHD is a catch-all diagnoses that is over diagnosed. My son has been dx ADHD as well. Really, he’s bipolar. (my background is a psych nurse for years)

Einstein was autistic and that doesn’t fit at least 299.00 or Autistic disorder. More like Bill Gates who is asperger’s.

Engineers and mathematicians are among the highest fields of autistic people in them, some studies say 20%. (My father’s father was an engineer, his mother was a CPA so math). My mother was bipolar, her mother was a mathematician.

Here’s what we know:
Your daughter is bright
She has an incredible rote memory
conversation skills are her area of weakness
she is using some delayed echolalia

Probably she would be diagnosed as on the autistic spectrum given the above and the overdiagnoses of it.

Help? What kind of help? She doesn’t need any help. I’m fine, my father is fine, my brother (dx PDD.NOS) is fine (information tech-computers). She can talk, and the articulation will come. What you can work on with her is conversation skills. Try to get some back and forth. Playdates 1:1.

My sons all get services but they are needed. I ignore a lot of what I don’t feel fits.

Intelligence testing is inaccurate for those without enough language to complete them, and they are inaccurate before age 6. I’ve scored a 56, 147-163 (7x)

http://asplanet.info/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=29&Itemid=63

So here are signs of asperger’s big deal.
Aspie Adult checklist (Alyson Bradley / www.asplanet.info – Sept. 2008 / updated May 2009):
1. Over think, analyze things,2. Prefer own company, 3. Obsessional interest, 4. Like routine, 5. Like rituals, 6. Collections, 7. Sensory problems, 8. Over focus on details, 9. Perfectionist, 10. Think outside the box!, 11. Cannot understand jokes, 12. Weird laugh and/or make odd noises,13. Nervous fidget, Stim, 14. Upset by crowds, shy, 15. Face doesn’t show emotion, 16. Very honest, can seem naïve, 17. Quirky, different somehow , 18. Cannot understand point of small talk, 19. Cannot understand society unwritten rules, 20. Bullied at school, work etc., 21. Lack of friends, socializing, 22. Friends much older or younger, 23. Mumbles, speaks to self, 24. Inappropriate emotions, response, 25. Connect well with animals, 26. Computer (Mr Spock) like logic, 27. Unexplained memory lapses, 28. Irregular sleeping patterns, 29. Hopeless or expert with maps, 30. Awkward, clumsy, bad body posture….

ON the site above the AS test I score a 44/50 with a score of 32 being most likely aspergers and an average female score of 11.

ETA: Sure

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Question?: Autistic Artist

Maria asks…

Are you an art therapist who works with autistic children?

If so, would you be willing to let me interview you via email for information I need to complete a senior project for my school?

If you or someone you know would be willing to do so please let me know!
Thanks!

admin answers:

I spent a few days at an adult day care program for adults with developmental delays.

They offer art classes to the clients who attend their program.

My suggestion is to call around local human service agencies to see if they know of any artist programs that work with children with autism or aspects of autism like aspergers.

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Question?: Adhd

Robert asks…

How do you get ADHD medicine out of your system?

This morning I accidentally took my brothers ADHD pill. I didn’t realized it until an hour later when I started to feel strange. I feel so terrible, it a stranger in my own body. I tried to throw up the pill but it already took effect. How do I get this feeling this feeling to go away?

admin answers:

Oh dear Lauren,
If you are feeling anxious or stressed out, don’t worry. That is the way the medication can make you feel. You will be okay.

Tell a parent, teacher or doctor that you took one by mistake. This is specially important if you are taking other medications. You need to make sure that you haven’t combined anything that could cause you harm. It is important that you tell someone so that they can help you out.

Time is the only way it ill go away. Most ADHD medications will begin working within an hour and wear off after 6 to 12 hours. It may take until tomorrow to feel better and even a few days to feel completely normal.

Best of luck!

A skateboarder with ADHD that learned how to control his symptoms!
Http://www.adhdaction.com/

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Question?: Autism Symptoms In Teenagers

Lisa asks…

How long does a fever reaction from the MMR vaccine last?

My 12 month old son had his MMR vaccine just over a week ago and has had a fever for four days now. I talked to a nurse on day two who said it is completely normal to have a fever a week or two after the vaccine, but how long is this fever going to last? Also, I have been on the internet researching the MMR vaccine and it seems more dangerous than we are lead to believe as parents when encouraged to give this vaccine to our children. It has actually been banned in the UK because of such severe reactions as brain damage and sudden onset of autism, and even death. Please answer only if you have real information; no guesses, please.

admin answers:

It is normal for a child to have a fever for a few days 5-12 days after the vaccine ( see website link for this fact)
I know its very stressful as your child is unwell and uncomfortable but be reassured your child’s symptoms are still in the normal range. While internet scare stories about of abnormal reactions what your child is experiencing is normal.
If you stay worried trust your instincts as a mother and seek medical help.
Both my children had MMR, I worried about giving/not giving it to both. Both had a fever and were a bit grotty for a few days. Both worried me. Both are normal, grumpy teenagers and both are entirely normal. MMR is normal in the Uk and has not been banned.
Being a mum and worrying about your kids is normal too.
Trust yourself and your own judgements. Mums do know best
Good luck

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Question?: Asperger Syndrome Treatment

Richard asks…

Do I require special treatment from others?

I am bipolar and I also have asperger syndrome. If you met me you probably wouldn’t notice anything but you could probably tell after a while. However some people don’t know about these types of disorders so they just don’t see anything wrong and blame me for something I might be doing wrong because of the disorder.
Should people treat me differently knowing I have these disorders?

admin answers:

I had a friend who was Bipolar, she would be randomly hyper one moment and the next she would be depressed. Luckily I knew about Bipolar Disorder as well as many others so I was able to understand her mood swings and everything else, but I still treated her like I would anyone else. But since I have a lot of depressed friends who have things like Asperger Syndrome or SAD, I tend to give advice and support them, so that is the norm for me.

Anyway, on this one occasion my friend was being horrible, I mean she was insulting me and our friends and saying terrible things. Even if it was due to her being Bipolar, what she did crossed the line. She even refused to apologise even after a few days. I treated her like I would anybody else, no special treatment because she crossed the line.

What I’m saying is that you have to let your friends know that your Bipolar and have them understand that from time to time you may do something wrong, this is justified but in extreme cases where you cross the line, I don’t think people will forgive you. Since being Bipolar shouldn’t be used as an excuse to explain your shortcomings

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Question?: Schizophrenia Stories

Paul asks…

Any books out there about schizophrenia? Fiction / based on true stories. Not a medical approach. ?

I’m interested in seeing what can go on in a mind of a schizophrenic. I’m looking for a book with a real story to it. I’ve read “Inside Out” by terry truman, but I’m searching for a longer one maybe, thats more in depth with the mind. Could I have a list of some possible books? Thank you.

admin answers:

I just finished this book, it’s called Thr3e by Ted Dekker(my fave author EVER). It’s long, but i finsihed it in less than a few days; it’s FANTASTIC! The movie isnt as good, but it has to do with someone like that, you just won’t realize it at first. Its very detailed. If you like this book, you’ll defintly lik ehis other ones. I hope you enjoy it!

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An Emotional Evening in Stimeyland

Tonight was back-to-school night at Jack’s school. This is the third back-to-school night I’ve been to in a week. It has been a little hectic. Also, at back-to-school night for 5th graders in the highly gifted program (Sam, yesterday), the evident goal is to make all the parents FREAK THE FUCK OUT over applying to highly gifted middle schools.

Mission accomplished.

But this isn’t that post. This is about Jack’s back-to-school night, which was cool. Half of his class showed up, so there were three of us in the room. I also got to see the lava lamp by the teacher’s desk that Jack is obsessed with.

But this isn’t that post either. This is about the instrumental music meeting that took place before the class meeting. Kids have the option of playing an instrument in 4th grade. I was kind of dreading Jack wanting to play an instrument because I was imagining epic battles during practice time.

I asked him though if he wanted to play an instrument though, because he gets to choose if he wants to play an instrument. He said he didn’t want to. But then he came home a few days later with a sheet on which was written and circled, “DRUMS.”

Because of course.

I spent a little while mourning my quiet house and then I started to get excited. And Jack was excited. And I was excited that Jack was excited. And I figured that this is something he might actually like to practice. Because that kid LOVES drums. I have a photo of him with every single street performer drumming on buckets that we have ever passed.

I showed up for the instrumental music meeting tonight all excited to learn what kind of drum we had to procure for practice. What I learned instead was the philosophy behind not offering drums as an instrumental music option in elementary school, which is weird, because it was an adult who wrote “DRUMS” on his page and circled it.

I went to the hallway and texted Alex to tell him that Jack couldn’t take drums and then I stared at my phone a little more, trying to pretend that I wasn’t broken up.

Because Jack was excited about something that would take extra work and he still wanted to do it. I don’t give a shit if elementary schools don’t want to offer drums. But don’t write down “DRUMS” and then tell the autistic kid he can’t play them. I was already dreading the conversation with him. I imagined it was going to involve across the board disappointment.

Then a nice lady who turned out to be the art teacher saw me looking sad and said, “Are you okay?”

And….

Then she took me to see the (non-instrumental) music teacher who gave me a tissue and I cried even harder, because they were SO nice to me. And they both listened to me and told me they’d met Jack and the music teacher told me how Jack had played the African drums in music and was totally into them and how she could totally see that music is important to him and this all made me cry even more and then she told me about the percussion class they hold once a week before school starting in October.

How great is that? That might be even better than instrumental music drumming. They’re going to have a DRUM CIRCLE.

I managed to pull myself together in time for the full-fourth grade presentation at which they showed a slide that said, “Homework, participation, effort, and work study skills are not factored into grades,” followed by a list of tests and “informal observations” that ARE factored into grades.

I was more than pleased to see that homework thing, but the rest of that sentence was baffling to me. I guess you can’t have percussion class AND A’s (or B+’s) for effort all in one school.

Now, lest you think I hogged all of the emotional drama of the evening, you should know that a squirrel drowned in our swimming pool. Alex texted me a photo of the funeral.

Alex also texted me a photo of the squorpse, but I won’t subject you to that.*

This was all taking place at the same time as back-to-school night. See, we’re draining our pool right now and there’s only a few inches of water in it now, so there isn’t a cover on it. I’ve seen squirrels balancing on the edge of it, but I assumed that because squirrels can jump from one tiny branch to another tiny branch in a different tree that they wouldn’t fall into the swimming pool.

I was wrong.

The children fished the squirrel out with our pool net.

Related: We might need a new pool net.

Alex dug a grave, Quinn and Sam gathered flowers, and Alex presided over the funeral at which all four mourners said some words for the squirrel. (Jack: “Poor guy.” Quinn: “He was a good squirrel.”)

Rest in peace, wild squorpse.**

Welcome to Stimeyland, the home of many, many, MANY buried, deceased rodents, as well as a good number of tears. If we ever sell our house, we’re going to have to disclose that our yard is full of tiny, buried rodent skeletons.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better for everyone. Especially the squirrels.

* Squorpse: This term was originally coined by KC. I will probably never give her credit for it again. Tell everyone you know that I made it up.

** I totally invented the term “squorpse.”

View the original article here

An Emotional Evening in Stimeyland

Tonight was back-to-school night at Jack’s school. This is the third back-to-school night I’ve been to in a week. It has been a little hectic. Also, at back-to-school night for 5th graders in the highly gifted program (Sam, yesterday), the evident goal is to make all the parents FREAK THE FUCK OUT over applying to highly gifted middle schools.

Mission accomplished.

But this isn’t that post. This is about Jack’s back-to-school night, which was cool. Half of his class showed up, so there were three of us in the room. I also got to see the lava lamp by the teacher’s desk that Jack is obsessed with.

But this isn’t that post either. This is about the instrumental music meeting that took place before the class meeting. Kids have the option of playing an instrument in 4th grade. I was kind of dreading Jack wanting to play an instrument because I was imagining epic battles during practice time.

I asked him though if he wanted to play an instrument though, because he gets to choose if he wants to play an instrument. He said he didn’t want to. But then he came home a few days later with a sheet on which was written and circled, “DRUMS.”

Because of course.

I spent a little while mourning my quiet house and then I started to get excited. And Jack was excited. And I was excited that Jack was excited. And I figured that this is something he might actually like to practice. Because that kid LOVES drums. I have a photo of him with every single street performer drumming on buckets that we have ever passed.


I showed up for the instrumental music meeting tonight all excited to learn what kind of drum we had to procure for practice. What I learned instead was the philosophy behind not offering drums as an instrumental music option in elementary school, which is weird, because it was an adult who wrote “DRUMS” on his page and circled it.

I went to the hallway and texted Alex to tell him that Jack couldn’t take drums and then I stared at my phone a little more, trying to pretend that I wasn’t broken up.

Because Jack was excited about something that would take extra work and he still wanted to do it. I don’t give a shit if elementary schools don’t want to offer drums. But don’t write down “DRUMS” and then tell the autistic kid he can’t play them. I was already dreading the conversation with him. I imagined it was going to involve across the board disappointment.

Then a nice lady who turned out to be the art teacher saw me looking sad and said, “Are you okay?”

And….


Then she took me to see the (non-instrumental) music teacher who gave me a tissue and I cried even harder, because they were SO nice to me. And they both listened to me and told me they’d met Jack and the music teacher told me how Jack had played the African drums in music and was totally into them and how she could totally see that music is important to him and this all made me cry even more and then she told me about the percussion class they hold once a week before school starting in October.

How great is that? That might be even better than instrumental music drumming. They’re going to have a DRUM CIRCLE.

I managed to pull myself together in time for the full-fourth grade presentation at which they showed a slide that said, “Homework, participation, effort, and work study skills are not factored into grades,” followed by a list of tests and “informal observations” that ARE factored into grades.

I was more than pleased to see that homework thing, but the rest of that sentence was baffling to me. I guess you can’t have percussion class AND A’s (or B+’s) for effort all in one school.

Now, lest you think I hogged all of the emotional drama of the evening, you should know that a squirrel drowned in our swimming pool. Alex texted me a photo of the funeral.


Alex also texted me a photo of the squorpse, but I won’t subject you to that.*

This was all taking place at the same time as back-to-school night. See, we’re draining our pool right now and there’s only a few inches of water in it now, so there isn’t a cover on it. I’ve seen squirrels balancing on the edge of it, but I assumed that because squirrels can jump from one tiny branch to another tiny branch in a different tree that they wouldn’t fall into the swimming pool.

I was wrong.

The children fished the squirrel out with our pool net.

Related: We might need a new pool net.

Alex dug a grave, Quinn and Sam gathered flowers, and Alex presided over the funeral at which all four mourners said some words for the squirrel. (Jack: “Poor guy.” Quinn: “He was a good squirrel.”)

Rest in peace, wild squorpse.**
Welcome to Stimeyland, the home of many, many, MANY buried, deceased rodents, as well as a good number of tears. If we ever sell our house, we’re going to have to disclose that our yard is full of tiny, buried rodent skeletons.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better for everyone. Especially the squirrels.

* Squorpse: This term was originally coined by KC. I will probably never give her credit for it again. Tell everyone you know that I made it up.

** I totally invented the term “squorpse.”

View the original article here

normal

~

Wednesday evening …

~

I’m stuck late at work. Which, given the circumstances, is really, really not helpful.

Katie needs her Mama. It’s been a rough few days and I haven’t been around enough. Some narrow minded idiot  A kid in school called her weird. Not exactly a shock that the social dynamics of middle school are proving to be tricky to navigate, but here we are. Last night at bedtime, she asked the $64,000 question.

“Mama, do you think I’m normal?”

I looked at my beautiful girl. My girl who is miles ahead of normal. My angel, my hero, my teacher, my daughter who is so much more than normal could ever hope to be. My theoretically typical kid who really, thank God, is anything but. My sweet, innocent, hurting girl who wants nothing more than to feel whatever she thinks normal feels like.

I stroked her hair. “Baby,” I said, “normal isn’t real. You’re just like the other kids in so many ways, but so too, you’re you. And all that YOU are is lot more than normal.”

I let her cry. I kissed her face and smoothed her hair. I promised her that tomorrow I’d pick her up after work and we’d talk some more.

Tomorrow is now today and I’m stuck. I’ve called to tell her that I’ll be there as soon as I can. That come Hell or High Water, she and I will make our way to the coffee shop. Because I have some things to tell her.

I’ve got to tell her that normal sucks and kids who call other kids weird can kiss her ass. That boys who call girls weird sometimes do so for reasons that defy all logic. That in three years when he asks her to the dance it’ll all make sense. I have to tell her that I love her. That even if she weren’t my kid – if heaven forbid we weren’t related, I’d still want to be her friend. That somehow, some way, I’d find my way into her life. Because her light and her spirit, her creativity and her generosity well, they make normal look pretty damn lame.

That normal sucks and kids who call her weird can kiss her ass.

I will pick her up. We will have coffee. We will talk. On the way home I’ll say it all, every bit of it, nearly word for word. But first, she has something she wants to talk about. I’m all ears.

“Mama, I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this,” she says.

“Hmm, well, hit me,” I say. “Let’s see.”

“I just .. Well, maybe I’ll just wait til you get home. This is awkward.”

“Oh, OK. Is it going to be less awkward if we’re face to face?”

“Oh. Maybe not.”

“Honey, I won’t judge it, truly. No matter what it is. So why don’t we just rip the band-aid off instead of letting it hang over our heads until I can get home.”

“OK. It’s just … well … “

She trails off.

“Go ahead, babe.”

“I want to have a bake sale to raise money to buy something for someone.”

“Ok.”

“I just ..”

I skip the “Oh for the love of all things holy” and simply say, “Honey, just say it.”

“OK,” she says, “I really want to have a bake sale to raise money to buy Tucker a keyboard.”

I’m quiet. I have no choice. I’m at work.

“Mama? Are you there?” she asks. Her voice is tight. She’s worried.

“I’m here, baby. I’m just trying not to cry.”

“Oh no. Why?”

“I’m just so proud of you, Katie. You’re an incredible kid.”

“So it’s OK?”

“Well, I’ll talk to Jeni about it.”

I pause for a minute, trying to take this in.

“Baby,” I ask, “how would you know that Tucker would want a keyboard?”

“Cause you told me that he likes music. And if he’s stuck in bed, well, I thought he’d enjoy it.”

I’m trying to keep up. When did I mention that he likes music? Oh yeah, that one time when I showed her the pictures on Luck2Tuck and she asked if they do anything fun at the hospital and I told her that he’d gotten to jam with one of the guys from Coldplay and how that meant the most to him because he loves music so much. 

She wants to hold a bake sale to buy a keyboard for a kid she’s never met. 

This is MY kid. 

How did I get this lucky?

How did I get so blessed?

She’s still talking.

She’s eleven; she’s always talking. 

“So I was thinking of asking Principal E if I could have the sale outside the school at dismissal time. Cause obviously we’d get the most people that way. And maybe … um, Mama, what do I call Tuck’s mom?”

“Mrs Gowen, sweetie. Unless she invites you otherwise; you call her Mrs Gowen.”

“Ok, so could we maybe ask Mrs Gowen if we could get some Luck2Tuck bracelets to sell at the sale? Cause I think that would be great. I mean, people would not only buy them to help pay for the keyboard, but then they’d be wearing them too.”

“Sweetie?” I begin, “why did you think I wouldn’t be OK with this?”

“Well, I don’t know. Confidentiality and stuff. I didn’t know if everyone knew he had Leukemia.”

Normal?

THIS kid wants to be NORMAL?

What a shame that would be.

I slow her down just enough to explain why we need to check with Jeni before jumping in. I tell her that it’s important to ask what Tuck might really NEED before plunging headlong into getting something that we may WANT to give him. And then she does it again.

“Mama, we can’t give him the thing that he needs.”

Breathe, Jess, breathe. 

“So I’d really like to give him something that will make him HAPPY.”

I promise her that I’ll write it all up and send it to Jeni. That I’ll ask her if Tuck has a keyboard.

I tell her that I’ll be home as soon as I can.

I hang up the phone.

I do what I need to do and I head home. I arrive late, but I grab her anyway. So dinner will be late tonight. It is what it is. I have some things I have to tell her.

I’ve got to tell her that normal sucks and kids who call other kids weird can kiss her ass. That boys who call girls weird sometimes do so for reasons that defy all logic. That in three years when he asks her to the dance it’ll all make sense.

I have to tell her that I love her. That even if she weren’t my kid – if heaven forbid we weren’t related, I’d still want to be her friend. That somehow, some way, I’d find my way into her life. Because her light and her spirit, her creativity and her generosity – well, they make normal look pretty damn lame.

That she can’t even see normal from where she’s sitting.

Thank God. 

~

View the original article here

pretend play

 ~

Children on the autism spectrum lack the ability to engage in pretend play.

Got it?

Don’t forget that, ok? It’s important. We’ll come back to in a minute. But first, how about a few pictures from Sunday night dinner?

Ashley is thirsty. I’ll give her some Diet Coke.

(No, it’s not Diet Coke. No, we don’t drink Diet Coke. It’s a cup of ice that the waitress brought for the doll when Brooke announced that she was thirsty and that she would like a Diet Coke.)

Ashley is tired. I’ll give her a nap.

(I don’t know which I like better – the napkin blanket or the crayon pillow.)

Ashley wants to eat spaghetti. I made her some.

(Breadsticks make startlingly realistic spaghettis, no?)

Hey, Katie, we can be in a band! I’ll play the flute.

(A piece of styrofoam packing material will work just fine.)

Time to go home, Ashley. You need to buckle up.

(Safety first, kids.)

You would sit in the back, Mama. I will drive.

(Yes, I actually sat in the back and she pretended to drive us home. No, I wouldn’t give her the keys.)

And just for fun, let’s add in one from Monday morning. When Ashley joined some friends to watch the family production of The Three Little Pigs.

Ashley and Jesus are tight. I think she likes his hair. 

*

OK, so let’s review, shall we?

*

“Children on the autism spectrum lack the ability to engage in pretend play.”

*

Damn, what’s that word I’m looking for?

Give me a sec; I’ll think of it.

Oh, yeah …

BULLSHIT.

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Ed Note: I’ll be unable to blog for the next few days. (All good, just headed out of town and leaving the laptop behind.) Please feel free to talk amongst yourselves on the COMMUNITY SUPPORT PAGE and I’ll see you next week. ~ xo J :)

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