I got meme'd. A friend sent this to me. It said to finish the sentences...
1. My uncle once:
got us special parking at a White Sox game by telling the parking attendant he was "Doctor Shitheimer" (pronounced Shit-high-mer), and even produced a bogus business card. He said he’d need to be close to the entrance in case he was called out in an emergency. The attendant gave us the spot right in front of the entrance.
2. Never in my life have I:
ever enjoyed being called by my formal given name. I’ve been known by a nickname since day one.
3. When I was five my parents:
taught me how to make martinis and margaritas, old fashioneds and Manhattens.
4. High school was:
typically unpleasant, but improved greatly when my parents began to travel extensively, leaving my twin brother and I alone for months at a time. Then it was wonderful.
5. I will never forget to:
tell my son I love him, every day.
6. Once I met:
Richard Nixon, and he had the slimiest handshake I’d ever received.
7. There’s this boy I know:
who is incredibly bright and funny and joyful. Too bad so few people know him the way I do.
8. Once, at a bar, I:
was bumped into by Walter Payton of the Chicago Bears. He nearly toppled my tray of drinks, but I managed not to spill a drop. He was so apologetic, even after I told him it wasn't necessary, he bought drinks for my table all night. (Which earned me the awe of all my friends.) At the time, I had no idea who Walter Payton was, but they brought me up to speed immediately. I thought he was just a really nice guy.
9. By noon, I’m:
on a roll, since I’ve been up since 4 or 5am. I’m a morning person. Can you tell?
10. Last night I:
started to research how to use a new web building software.
11. If only I had:
a teacher who was good with autistic children. A babysitter would be nice, too. (It's too early to tell yet about the teacher.)
12. Next time I go to church:
I’ll ask them why they don’t have any accommodations for special needs children.
13. What worries me most is that I:
can’t protect my son from the school staff.
14. When I turn my head left I see:
my son. He’s playing a video game.
15. When I turn my head right I see:
my husband. He’s on the couch watching tv.
16. You know I’m lying when I:
tell you I love lima beans. Or watermelon. Or pizza.
17. What I miss most about the Eighties is:
being skinny.
18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be:
Cordelia. Dad disowned me, too. (Several times, actually.) The last time was for changing my major. Never could please Dad. I really empathized with the character of Cordelia.
19. By this time next year I will:
be the mother of a junior high student. Ack. I can’t tell you how this terrifies me.
20. A better name for me would be:
Joni. (It’s not my given name.)
21. I have a hard time understanding:
why the school staff believes that sometimes my son's behavior is because of the autism, but sometimes it isn't. "Sometimes he's being influenced by the autism, but sometimes he's just acting like a little boy." As if he's sometimes neurotypical, and sometimes he has a neurological disorder. I guess they think his autism has an on/off switch...?
22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll:
study what I like, instead of what I’m told I should.
23. You know I like you if I:
make you something. (crafts)
24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be:
my husband and son. They are my support and my inspiration.
25. Take my advice, never:
put your autistic student in the Rockford School District.
Okay, now it's your turn.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Rock On
Gosh was that fun. We just returned from a shopping excursion to the gem store.
Dh loves to go to the Bass Pro Shop, and Nathan and I love to hit the gem store, further down the mall. It's a fun place to buy polished gemstones and polished glass beads and jewelry. You can check them out here: www.blackmarketminerals.com (Black Market Minerals).
This is not a place where you buy fancy expensive jewelry. This is a place where you buy beads and polished gemstones. It's casual and inexpensive. Fun jewelry that's unique and personal.
I found all kinds of stuff for me. I got earrings and pendants, and a neat amethyst bonzai-like tree, and a little carved stone bunny. I collect bunnies. Not one thing I bought cost more than $8, and most cost only about $3 each or less. But when I wear my snowflake obsidian coin pendant, for example, no one will have one like it. It's a color and pattern that appeal to me very much, and because it's made by mother nature, no two are alike. I like that. It's unique. And earthy.
Nathan was in heaven. He's had rock collections since toddlerhood. Today he picked out a bag of rocks, and they are all very pretty patterns. They have this big old tub, like an old-time bathtub, filled to the brim with polished gemstones and polished glass. He just digs right in, looking for treasures. At about a buck a handful, he can have all he wants.
So we all came away happy. Nathan added to his collection, and I got a bag full of jewelry and nicknacks for a bargain. Dh got lures and fishing line. A nice way to spend time on a holiday weekend.
Dh loves to go to the Bass Pro Shop, and Nathan and I love to hit the gem store, further down the mall. It's a fun place to buy polished gemstones and polished glass beads and jewelry. You can check them out here: www.blackmarketminerals.com (Black Market Minerals).
This is not a place where you buy fancy expensive jewelry. This is a place where you buy beads and polished gemstones. It's casual and inexpensive. Fun jewelry that's unique and personal.
I found all kinds of stuff for me. I got earrings and pendants, and a neat amethyst bonzai-like tree, and a little carved stone bunny. I collect bunnies. Not one thing I bought cost more than $8, and most cost only about $3 each or less. But when I wear my snowflake obsidian coin pendant, for example, no one will have one like it. It's a color and pattern that appeal to me very much, and because it's made by mother nature, no two are alike. I like that. It's unique. And earthy.
Nathan was in heaven. He's had rock collections since toddlerhood. Today he picked out a bag of rocks, and they are all very pretty patterns. They have this big old tub, like an old-time bathtub, filled to the brim with polished gemstones and polished glass. He just digs right in, looking for treasures. At about a buck a handful, he can have all he wants.
So we all came away happy. Nathan added to his collection, and I got a bag full of jewelry and nicknacks for a bargain. Dh got lures and fishing line. A nice way to spend time on a holiday weekend.
Friday, August 29, 2008
First Week is Finished
One (partial) week under our belts. We've all survived the first four and a half days of school. Whew.
It didn't go without incident. First of all, I get a phone message that the school will not give my son his medication. The reason for this? He's supposed to take a 1/2 pill in the morning, and a 1/2 pill with lunch. The prescription bottle says to take a half pill twice a day. We give him the first half in the morning when he gets up. They're supposed to give him the other half in school at lunch. But since the bottle doesn't state a *specific time of day, they won't give it to him without a signed note from the doctor, and from me.
Now, with a co-worker out on an emergency medical leave, I've been working overtime on a daily basis. When she went on leave, my boss informed me that she was authorized to give me up to 32 hours of overtime a week. So you can imagine how little time I have to run errands, like run to the doctor's office. Let alone CALL the doctor's office. I work in customer service, and I'm in a phone queue. I'm can't make personal phonecalls. And with all this overtime, I'm only taking half hour lunches (which, if I'm lucky, gives me enough time to drive somewhere, get a sandwich, and snarf it down). Geez, when am I supposed to juggle in doctor visits and picking up notes?
And don't ya think you coulda told me you needed the form at registration? Why wait until he's in school, and not tell us until he's sent home unmedicated?
Fortunately, my doctor was pretty flexible, and I faxed him the form to fill out and fax to the school. But with the phone tag, closed office, and all that went with it, it took about three days to get the note to the school.
Hey, no skin off our nose. We could give him the other half when he got home. But I suspect the lack of meds might have had an impact at school, since they agreed to take my verbal permission over the phone, rather than wait yet another day for the form. (Now why couldn't they do that on day one? Or were they just getting desperate, LOL?)
Okay, that was a bit annoying or frustrating, but what the heck. First week of school is a bit chaotic for everybody. No harm done.
Yesterday had me on pins and needles though. I got another call from the school nurse. Nathan got hurt, and had a cut on his shoulder. She wanted to warn me, before he came home with a bandaid. That was thoughtful of her.
Now Nathan with an injury can be a bit unpredictable. If there's blood, he can get very freaked out. If there's pain, he may seen strangely unaffected by it, or he may overreact. Never anywhere inbetween. I've seen him stoically try to walk off a broken toe. And I've seen him go ballistic over a minor scratch. I haven't quite got it all figured out what makes him go over the edge, though I do know that any blood is probably going to do it.
My first question to the nurse was, "Did he throw a fit?" In my mind, that's a meltdown.
The nurse responded yes, that he was pretty upset, and that "he had been somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, and he fell into a cabinet," but that they put an ice pack on his shoulder, and he's okay now. He had just brought back the ice pack to her, and he was in a good mood. (All is well.)
Okay, I guess I should have clarified things with her, but it's hard for me to be on the phone at all, so I suppose I was not getting the story as straight as I should. Plus the mommy overprotectiveness kicking up a notch.
Keep in mind that last year, when I was told "So then Nathan was taken to the office..." That meant he was physically restrained, removed, secluded, and held down in a chair for a half hour or more by several adults. Talk about understatements...
I was under the impression from the brief discussion with the nurse that Nathan was probably escalating (he was somewhere he shouldn't be), tried to crawl under or behind something (doing something he shouldn't be doing), and got hurt in the process. After all, that has happened before. He's crawled under or behind stuff during escalation, and ended up being restrained and removed. I got a similar description then.
When I got home, I asked dh what happened. He didn't know. Nathan didn't seem to think anything had gone wrong, except he tripped and hurt his shoulder. Huh? No nuclear meltdown?
Not according to Nathan. He *was somewhere where he wasn't supposed to be. He keeps going near the big fan in the room because he's hot and wants to cool down. But he tripped on the fan, and fell, and that's when he hurt his shoulder. Yeah, he got upset, but it's not like he had a melt. (Or at least that's how Nathan sees it.)
I'm not sure which version is true. I know he's not lying. That's his perception of it, accurate or not.
On the other hand, the nurse is brand new. She doesn't know what a meltdown really looks like, or that when I ask if he threw a "fit," I mean he REALLY threw a fit, and perhaps a book, or a chair. Maybe she thought his crying over a painful cut in his shoulder was "a fit." (If that's the case, that poor woman's going to be in for a world of shock when the real thing hits.)
Or maybe I just assumed the worst, because of past history. Maybe that's all the nurse meant. He threw a little fit because he got hurt. Just like any other kid would have. No big deal.
Oh! Okay. I guess I sat on pins and needles for no reason. That's good news. I'd rather find out I was being silly, than have the worst really happen. I don't believe the nurse was deliberately vague or anything. She's really very nice. I had just read between the lines, (because I used to have to) and there probably wasn't anything really between those lines. And I guess I'm like a new student, learning how the school staff works and what to expect. I shouldn't take for granted that what the new nurse tells means the same thing as what the previous nurse would have intended. After all, this one's never seen a melt.
Lesson learned: Don't assume. Lesson two: Next time, ask more specific questions. (Lesson three: Hey, if you're gonna be paranoid all afternoon, wondering what happened, maybe you should just get your butt down there and find out for yourself!)
I don't know if I really want to know what happened with the injury. If there was a meltdown, they didn't seem to think it was bad enough to send him home, suspend him, or anything like that. And if there wasn't a meltdown, well now, that's just the version I'd like to believe is true.
Maybe it's just time for a little faith, huh? Wouldn't it just be wonderful, if when the school says he had a fit, they mean he reacted just like any other kid his age? Nothing scary or unmanageable? No restraint needed? Nothing violent, just emotional? That would be nice!
So anyway, the week went relatively smoothly, I think. Better than last year's first week, by a long shot.
And the kicker? He brought home a little certificate that said "Congratulations! You scored 100% on your spelling test!"
I love notes home that say nice things!!
What was that new mantra again? Oh yeah!
It will be better this year. It will be better this year. It will be better...
It didn't go without incident. First of all, I get a phone message that the school will not give my son his medication. The reason for this? He's supposed to take a 1/2 pill in the morning, and a 1/2 pill with lunch. The prescription bottle says to take a half pill twice a day. We give him the first half in the morning when he gets up. They're supposed to give him the other half in school at lunch. But since the bottle doesn't state a *specific time of day, they won't give it to him without a signed note from the doctor, and from me.
Now, with a co-worker out on an emergency medical leave, I've been working overtime on a daily basis. When she went on leave, my boss informed me that she was authorized to give me up to 32 hours of overtime a week. So you can imagine how little time I have to run errands, like run to the doctor's office. Let alone CALL the doctor's office. I work in customer service, and I'm in a phone queue. I'm can't make personal phonecalls. And with all this overtime, I'm only taking half hour lunches (which, if I'm lucky, gives me enough time to drive somewhere, get a sandwich, and snarf it down). Geez, when am I supposed to juggle in doctor visits and picking up notes?
And don't ya think you coulda told me you needed the form at registration? Why wait until he's in school, and not tell us until he's sent home unmedicated?
Fortunately, my doctor was pretty flexible, and I faxed him the form to fill out and fax to the school. But with the phone tag, closed office, and all that went with it, it took about three days to get the note to the school.
Hey, no skin off our nose. We could give him the other half when he got home. But I suspect the lack of meds might have had an impact at school, since they agreed to take my verbal permission over the phone, rather than wait yet another day for the form. (Now why couldn't they do that on day one? Or were they just getting desperate, LOL?)
Okay, that was a bit annoying or frustrating, but what the heck. First week of school is a bit chaotic for everybody. No harm done.
Yesterday had me on pins and needles though. I got another call from the school nurse. Nathan got hurt, and had a cut on his shoulder. She wanted to warn me, before he came home with a bandaid. That was thoughtful of her.
Now Nathan with an injury can be a bit unpredictable. If there's blood, he can get very freaked out. If there's pain, he may seen strangely unaffected by it, or he may overreact. Never anywhere inbetween. I've seen him stoically try to walk off a broken toe. And I've seen him go ballistic over a minor scratch. I haven't quite got it all figured out what makes him go over the edge, though I do know that any blood is probably going to do it.
My first question to the nurse was, "Did he throw a fit?" In my mind, that's a meltdown.
The nurse responded yes, that he was pretty upset, and that "he had been somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, and he fell into a cabinet," but that they put an ice pack on his shoulder, and he's okay now. He had just brought back the ice pack to her, and he was in a good mood. (All is well.)
Okay, I guess I should have clarified things with her, but it's hard for me to be on the phone at all, so I suppose I was not getting the story as straight as I should. Plus the mommy overprotectiveness kicking up a notch.
Keep in mind that last year, when I was told "So then Nathan was taken to the office..." That meant he was physically restrained, removed, secluded, and held down in a chair for a half hour or more by several adults. Talk about understatements...
I was under the impression from the brief discussion with the nurse that Nathan was probably escalating (he was somewhere he shouldn't be), tried to crawl under or behind something (doing something he shouldn't be doing), and got hurt in the process. After all, that has happened before. He's crawled under or behind stuff during escalation, and ended up being restrained and removed. I got a similar description then.
When I got home, I asked dh what happened. He didn't know. Nathan didn't seem to think anything had gone wrong, except he tripped and hurt his shoulder. Huh? No nuclear meltdown?
Not according to Nathan. He *was somewhere where he wasn't supposed to be. He keeps going near the big fan in the room because he's hot and wants to cool down. But he tripped on the fan, and fell, and that's when he hurt his shoulder. Yeah, he got upset, but it's not like he had a melt. (Or at least that's how Nathan sees it.)
I'm not sure which version is true. I know he's not lying. That's his perception of it, accurate or not.
On the other hand, the nurse is brand new. She doesn't know what a meltdown really looks like, or that when I ask if he threw a "fit," I mean he REALLY threw a fit, and perhaps a book, or a chair. Maybe she thought his crying over a painful cut in his shoulder was "a fit." (If that's the case, that poor woman's going to be in for a world of shock when the real thing hits.)
Or maybe I just assumed the worst, because of past history. Maybe that's all the nurse meant. He threw a little fit because he got hurt. Just like any other kid would have. No big deal.
Oh! Okay. I guess I sat on pins and needles for no reason. That's good news. I'd rather find out I was being silly, than have the worst really happen. I don't believe the nurse was deliberately vague or anything. She's really very nice. I had just read between the lines, (because I used to have to) and there probably wasn't anything really between those lines. And I guess I'm like a new student, learning how the school staff works and what to expect. I shouldn't take for granted that what the new nurse tells means the same thing as what the previous nurse would have intended. After all, this one's never seen a melt.
Lesson learned: Don't assume. Lesson two: Next time, ask more specific questions. (Lesson three: Hey, if you're gonna be paranoid all afternoon, wondering what happened, maybe you should just get your butt down there and find out for yourself!)
I don't know if I really want to know what happened with the injury. If there was a meltdown, they didn't seem to think it was bad enough to send him home, suspend him, or anything like that. And if there wasn't a meltdown, well now, that's just the version I'd like to believe is true.
Maybe it's just time for a little faith, huh? Wouldn't it just be wonderful, if when the school says he had a fit, they mean he reacted just like any other kid his age? Nothing scary or unmanageable? No restraint needed? Nothing violent, just emotional? That would be nice!
So anyway, the week went relatively smoothly, I think. Better than last year's first week, by a long shot.
And the kicker? He brought home a little certificate that said "Congratulations! You scored 100% on your spelling test!"
I love notes home that say nice things!!
What was that new mantra again? Oh yeah!
It will be better this year. It will be better this year. It will be better...
An IEP Tool Kit
This is neat! An IEP Tool Kit to organize your papers for your next IEP meeting: http://ping.fm/252bH
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
A Reassuring Phonecall
When I was at work last night, I found a message on my voicemail. It was from my son's bus driver! I had made up a bunch of business cards for Nathan last year, that stated that he has autism, and here are some things to be aware of (like not to touch him, he has trouble communicating when he is upset or frustrated, etc.) I've asked Nathan to give these cards to any new bus driver he has, and to substitute teachers, and to daycare people. The card has Nathan's picture on it, as well as my cell phone number, just in case.
The bus driver called me to let me know that she has a grandson, slightly older than my son, who has autism, and she is familiar with autism, and she will have a lot of patience with my son. She also asked if he required any special seating considerations.
I was so surprised! And thrilled! I didn't need to ask for any special considerations for seating, but it is so good to know that they are willing to do this if needed. And it's just great to know that someone undertstands; someone who spends a great deal of time with my son during the course of a school year.
I thought that was very nice, that someone would take the time, her personal non-work time too, to call me up and reassure me that she understands and will be patient. It was above and beyond, and greatly appreciated. (I'm sending her a thank you note this morning.) It made my day, and makes me feel a lot better about this school year.
It's good to know that there are people in my son's world who will take that extra step, offer that understanding ear, and demonstrate a patient heart.
The bus driver called me to let me know that she has a grandson, slightly older than my son, who has autism, and she is familiar with autism, and she will have a lot of patience with my son. She also asked if he required any special seating considerations.
I was so surprised! And thrilled! I didn't need to ask for any special considerations for seating, but it is so good to know that they are willing to do this if needed. And it's just great to know that someone undertstands; someone who spends a great deal of time with my son during the course of a school year.
I thought that was very nice, that someone would take the time, her personal non-work time too, to call me up and reassure me that she understands and will be patient. It was above and beyond, and greatly appreciated. (I'm sending her a thank you note this morning.) It made my day, and makes me feel a lot better about this school year.
It's good to know that there are people in my son's world who will take that extra step, offer that understanding ear, and demonstrate a patient heart.
Monday, August 25, 2008
One Big Pickle
Last week, dh was on vacation. He and Nathan made a few fishing trips, and after one of them, they stopped at a farm stand outside of Delavan, Wisconsin. Dh is a fanatic for green beans, so he got some of those, some sweet corn for me, and then he picked up a very large zucchini (which surprises me, because he is not a zucchini fan).
Nathan took one look at the zucchini and asked, “How come you’re buying a big pickle?” ROFL! The woman at the fruit & veggie stand got a BIG kick out of that!
When I saw the zucchini, my immediate thought was, oooo, zucchini bread! So I took the opportunity to show Nathan how to make it. First I made a batch, and he assisted me. Then, since I had a ton of grated zucchini left over, I told Nathan, “Now it’s your turn.” I washed out all of the tools and lined them up on the counter, with the ingredients, and, “Go to it. There’s the directions.” Then I left him alone. He was confused at the end, because he didn’t have a bread pan to use (I had used my two glass ones with my batch).
I smiled and asked, “Do we have to bake it in a bread pan?”
He scratched his head and said, “Bread has to be a loaf, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely not.” Then I handed him a bundt pan. “This is what I used to use when I made zucchini bread for my family when I was a kid.” He grinned.
He seemed to like that idea. I’m not sure if he just liked the idea of a circle of bread, or if it was the realization that I used to make bread for my family as a kid, the same way he’s making bread for his family.
Nathan will NOT, under any circumstances, eat any green veggies, other than green beans, and peas (if I make him). Which, by the way, was the whole purpose of my choosing to make bread with the zucchini, instead of just enjoying steamed zucchini by myself (which I love). I’ll take any opportunity to get green veggies in him, even if I have to sneak them into bread or cake. But not only did he taste some of the raw, grated zucchini, but he had a taste of the uncooked batter, too. That’s really odd, because he doesn’t like to try new things. He even tasted the raw flour for a change, but that fell understandably flat. He was much more appreciative of the batter, since it tastes kind of like cake batter. But we had fun tasting the stuff before it was baked, so we could see the difference after it was baked. He wasn’t impressed with the flavor of the “before” zucchini, either. But you should have seen the look on his face when he got to sample the finished product! His eyes were as big as saucers. Then, when I put a light sprinkling of cinnamon sugar on it, he exclaimed, “That’s the best bread, EVER!”
Success!
But he’s not happy with me calling it “Big Pickle Bread.” Heh heh heh Something tells me he’ll never live that one down. ;)
Nathan took one look at the zucchini and asked, “How come you’re buying a big pickle?” ROFL! The woman at the fruit & veggie stand got a BIG kick out of that!
When I saw the zucchini, my immediate thought was, oooo, zucchini bread! So I took the opportunity to show Nathan how to make it. First I made a batch, and he assisted me. Then, since I had a ton of grated zucchini left over, I told Nathan, “Now it’s your turn.” I washed out all of the tools and lined them up on the counter, with the ingredients, and, “Go to it. There’s the directions.” Then I left him alone. He was confused at the end, because he didn’t have a bread pan to use (I had used my two glass ones with my batch).
I smiled and asked, “Do we have to bake it in a bread pan?”
He scratched his head and said, “Bread has to be a loaf, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely not.” Then I handed him a bundt pan. “This is what I used to use when I made zucchini bread for my family when I was a kid.” He grinned.
He seemed to like that idea. I’m not sure if he just liked the idea of a circle of bread, or if it was the realization that I used to make bread for my family as a kid, the same way he’s making bread for his family.
Nathan will NOT, under any circumstances, eat any green veggies, other than green beans, and peas (if I make him). Which, by the way, was the whole purpose of my choosing to make bread with the zucchini, instead of just enjoying steamed zucchini by myself (which I love). I’ll take any opportunity to get green veggies in him, even if I have to sneak them into bread or cake. But not only did he taste some of the raw, grated zucchini, but he had a taste of the uncooked batter, too. That’s really odd, because he doesn’t like to try new things. He even tasted the raw flour for a change, but that fell understandably flat. He was much more appreciative of the batter, since it tastes kind of like cake batter. But we had fun tasting the stuff before it was baked, so we could see the difference after it was baked. He wasn’t impressed with the flavor of the “before” zucchini, either. But you should have seen the look on his face when he got to sample the finished product! His eyes were as big as saucers. Then, when I put a light sprinkling of cinnamon sugar on it, he exclaimed, “That’s the best bread, EVER!”
Success!
But he’s not happy with me calling it “Big Pickle Bread.” Heh heh heh Something tells me he’ll never live that one down. ;)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
The Dread Sets In
My stomach is in knots. And it's been getting worse as the day goes on. Tomorrow is the first day of school.
I know I don't have much control over this, and there's every reason in the world to believe that this year will be different. But still, past history rears its ugly head, and my stomach does flipflops.
I keep telling myself that he's grown so much during the past eight months. Amazingly so. He's much more mature and much more independent than he was last year.
In summer camp, he was so outgoing and friendly, they made of point of telling me that he has terrific social skills. I've never heard that before. Ever. He was always the loner. I have pictures of him that they took at school, where he stood off by himself, just watching the kids on the playground. Heartbreaking. But now, he's making friends, and playing games nicely with them.
At the end of last school year, he won an award. He wasn't there on the last day of school (they only go for an hour and a half, and he was really sick, so I sent him to Grandma's), so he didn't get his report card, or this award. I didn't even know he was going to get an award! When I took him to school for registration about a week ago, they finally gave me his report card from last semester (gee, thanks a lot - how swift), and this award. Wow. It was for Most Improved, in Independence! You know, that's no small thing to us, and it would have been nice to have seen this last June, when he was awarded it. Too bad they couldn't have popped his report card and his award in an envelope. Anyway, I digress. (Sorry. School nerves washing over me again). It was validation for what we have been seeing in him as well. This summer was the first time we left him alone for a short period of time, and it has been a huge success. He has been offering to help around the house, and doing a good job of it, too. He's cooking! Not just out-of-a-box stuff, but he's learning to follow recipes as well. Cooking main courses, even! (I'm so proud!) I wouldn't have pictured any of this last year.
On top of all this, he is learning a little more self control. Okay, this still needs a lot of work, but it's improved, and I'll take all the improvement I can get. He's demonstrated a bit of self-awareness, which really gives me a great deal of hope and optimism. I'll say to him, do you feel yourself getting upset? What can you do to calm yourself down? And he answers in the affirmative now (he used to deny that he was upset, even though it was very obvious to those around him), and he tries to calm down! HUGE! Sometimes it's hard for him, of course. He's had very little practice in controlling himself. But he's trying! He's trying! (Can you hear the relief in my voice?)
At home, we haven't seen a meltdown in so long, I've forgotten when it was. I love this. Has he gotten upset? Sure. But he'll go off to calm himself, most of the time after a prompt from me or dh, and then he comes back when he's more in control. He doesn't often get made at his games anymore! With a new game, he'd often get frustrated while on the initial learning curve, and growl or do foot-stomping type of expressions of anger. I can't remember the last time I saw that, either. Incredible.
Once during the summer, Nathan said to dh, "I have autism. I can't control myself." We responded with a loud and firm, "BOLOGNA!!" We had a conversation at the time about how everyone gets mad, but it's what you do with that mad that makes the difference. Because of his autism, he might get mad about something, but that doesn't mean he has to allow that mad to take over and have control. He can make choices about how to deal with it. He can go off by himself to calm down. He can take deep breaths. He can run around the house a few times to burn off steam. He can do things that help the mad go away or get easier to ignore. For once, it felt like a lightbulb went on. He seemed to have believed that because he had autism, he had no power. He was going to get mad, and it was going to be more than he could control. So why bother. Now, he is getting it. He's realizing that he has a say in how he responds. It's like the cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz. The lion believed he didn't have courage because he felt fear. But once it was pointed out to him that courage doesn't mean the absence of fear, it means acting In Spite Of The Fear, then he discovered that had courage after all. I think this is what happens with Nathan. He believed he had no control because he got so mad. But having control doesn't mean never getting upset, it means you figure out how to use it constructively, or how to minimize it so you can continue to function civily. It was very empowering to him. Now that doesn't mean he's suddenly In Control. But he's now starting to monitor himself, and to control himself under the majority of cases. If only he can continue this in school, we'll have it made!
During the school's registration, we met Nathan's teacher. She had an strong kindness vibe that really impacted us. I hope this is an accurate assessment. It's SO encouraging. If his teacher really is kind and patient, that could be the one ingredient that makes this school year an enormous success. I'm hoping. Time will tell.
So I have many reasons to be hopeful this new school year. And no indications of anything that would inhibit him from having a good year. The only thing I do have to worry about is the past history. That's no small factor. But it's not a guarantee of failure, right? After all, they started to actually follow the IEP toward the end of the school year, with excellent results - a significant reduction in the number of meltdowns, and a decrease in severity. So that's good, right? Then why do I feel this impending dread?
I guess because we've done all we can on our end. We've done everything we know to do. And Nathan's doing his best. So it all boils down to: will the school listen? Will they actually follow the IEP? Will they be patient? Will they read the info I send them? Will they abandon the idea that he doesn't need accomodations, he just needs a good swift kick in the pants? Will they treat him like he's a "bad kid?" They are the deciding factor in how this year will go. And that's why I'm afraid. He's done well with certain teachers. Will this be one of them?
It will be better this year. It will be better this year. It will be better...
(my new mantra)
I know I don't have much control over this, and there's every reason in the world to believe that this year will be different. But still, past history rears its ugly head, and my stomach does flipflops.
I keep telling myself that he's grown so much during the past eight months. Amazingly so. He's much more mature and much more independent than he was last year.
In summer camp, he was so outgoing and friendly, they made of point of telling me that he has terrific social skills. I've never heard that before. Ever. He was always the loner. I have pictures of him that they took at school, where he stood off by himself, just watching the kids on the playground. Heartbreaking. But now, he's making friends, and playing games nicely with them.
At the end of last school year, he won an award. He wasn't there on the last day of school (they only go for an hour and a half, and he was really sick, so I sent him to Grandma's), so he didn't get his report card, or this award. I didn't even know he was going to get an award! When I took him to school for registration about a week ago, they finally gave me his report card from last semester (gee, thanks a lot - how swift), and this award. Wow. It was for Most Improved, in Independence! You know, that's no small thing to us, and it would have been nice to have seen this last June, when he was awarded it. Too bad they couldn't have popped his report card and his award in an envelope. Anyway, I digress. (Sorry. School nerves washing over me again). It was validation for what we have been seeing in him as well. This summer was the first time we left him alone for a short period of time, and it has been a huge success. He has been offering to help around the house, and doing a good job of it, too. He's cooking! Not just out-of-a-box stuff, but he's learning to follow recipes as well. Cooking main courses, even! (I'm so proud!) I wouldn't have pictured any of this last year.
On top of all this, he is learning a little more self control. Okay, this still needs a lot of work, but it's improved, and I'll take all the improvement I can get. He's demonstrated a bit of self-awareness, which really gives me a great deal of hope and optimism. I'll say to him, do you feel yourself getting upset? What can you do to calm yourself down? And he answers in the affirmative now (he used to deny that he was upset, even though it was very obvious to those around him), and he tries to calm down! HUGE! Sometimes it's hard for him, of course. He's had very little practice in controlling himself. But he's trying! He's trying! (Can you hear the relief in my voice?)
At home, we haven't seen a meltdown in so long, I've forgotten when it was. I love this. Has he gotten upset? Sure. But he'll go off to calm himself, most of the time after a prompt from me or dh, and then he comes back when he's more in control. He doesn't often get made at his games anymore! With a new game, he'd often get frustrated while on the initial learning curve, and growl or do foot-stomping type of expressions of anger. I can't remember the last time I saw that, either. Incredible.
Once during the summer, Nathan said to dh, "I have autism. I can't control myself." We responded with a loud and firm, "BOLOGNA!!" We had a conversation at the time about how everyone gets mad, but it's what you do with that mad that makes the difference. Because of his autism, he might get mad about something, but that doesn't mean he has to allow that mad to take over and have control. He can make choices about how to deal with it. He can go off by himself to calm down. He can take deep breaths. He can run around the house a few times to burn off steam. He can do things that help the mad go away or get easier to ignore. For once, it felt like a lightbulb went on. He seemed to have believed that because he had autism, he had no power. He was going to get mad, and it was going to be more than he could control. So why bother. Now, he is getting it. He's realizing that he has a say in how he responds. It's like the cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz. The lion believed he didn't have courage because he felt fear. But once it was pointed out to him that courage doesn't mean the absence of fear, it means acting In Spite Of The Fear, then he discovered that had courage after all. I think this is what happens with Nathan. He believed he had no control because he got so mad. But having control doesn't mean never getting upset, it means you figure out how to use it constructively, or how to minimize it so you can continue to function civily. It was very empowering to him. Now that doesn't mean he's suddenly In Control. But he's now starting to monitor himself, and to control himself under the majority of cases. If only he can continue this in school, we'll have it made!
During the school's registration, we met Nathan's teacher. She had an strong kindness vibe that really impacted us. I hope this is an accurate assessment. It's SO encouraging. If his teacher really is kind and patient, that could be the one ingredient that makes this school year an enormous success. I'm hoping. Time will tell.
So I have many reasons to be hopeful this new school year. And no indications of anything that would inhibit him from having a good year. The only thing I do have to worry about is the past history. That's no small factor. But it's not a guarantee of failure, right? After all, they started to actually follow the IEP toward the end of the school year, with excellent results - a significant reduction in the number of meltdowns, and a decrease in severity. So that's good, right? Then why do I feel this impending dread?
I guess because we've done all we can on our end. We've done everything we know to do. And Nathan's doing his best. So it all boils down to: will the school listen? Will they actually follow the IEP? Will they be patient? Will they read the info I send them? Will they abandon the idea that he doesn't need accomodations, he just needs a good swift kick in the pants? Will they treat him like he's a "bad kid?" They are the deciding factor in how this year will go. And that's why I'm afraid. He's done well with certain teachers. Will this be one of them?
It will be better this year. It will be better this year. It will be better...
(my new mantra)
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