Tears of ???

"Carter, it's time to come in for dinner!  Please come out of the pool.  It's time!"
"NNNOOOOOOOO!  That's not fair!  WWAAAAAHHHHH!!"
"Carter James!  What kind of choice are you making?  We talked about this.  You knew the plan.  Now it's time to get out of the pool."
"NNNOOOOOO!  I don't want to!  MAMA~!!!!  WWWAAAHHHHHH!"
Ms. Karen says, "Yes, Carter, we all have to go in too.  It's a school night!  All of the kids are getting out of the pool now too."

Carter throws his body out of the 2.5 foot inflatable heaven still crying  - almost wailing.

"Now, Carter.  Settle down.  Thank you for cooperating.  I knew you would make the right choice."

"Ms. Karen just said that to make me feel better (spoken in a cry)!    I'm sad!  I didn't want to get out of the pool.  Ms. Karen just said that her kids are going in to make me feel better!  That was very nice, but I'm still sad!!!!"  "WAAAHHHH!" all said in the middle of crying as he entered the house.

Hello summertime.

Thoughtfulness

Thoughtfulness.  "Oh, how thoughtful of you!"  "Thank you for your thoughtfulness."  "How nice that you thought of me..."  Simple acknowledgements and gratitude, right?  Sure.  Simple.  Being thoughtful is one of those character traits that we grow to expect from others as they mature through life.  Certainly, we don't expect a toddler to be thoughtful by instinct.  We teach them over and over about manners and kindness and sharing and please and thank you.  Over and over and over.  We hope and pray that it sticks.  We pride ourselves on our children's manners, don't we?  I know I have.

But having a child diagnosed with autism (notice that I always include the precursor "diagnosed with" - it allows me some sense of denial while still acknowledging the reality - brilliant, don't you think?!)  anyway...having Carter and learning about others with similar neurology, I have had to re-align my expectations and my pride.  I have had to stop - dead in my tracks - to consider how Carter might react or respond in a given situation where manners are expected.  What needs to be coached?  Does he need to be pre-taught?  How can I handle this gracefully?  For so long, it seemed that things weren't sinking in or mattering to him.  Please is just not on his list of important words.  Thank you is.  He uses it often and appropriately.  I work so very hard not to limit my expectations of him.  I really do.  But, I think this is yet one more area where I may stumble more often than not.  He's capable of so much more than I often think he is.... 

The other day, I was foolishly mowing the lawn in 92 degree weather.  I'd sent Danny off fishing with friends after he'd mowed half the lawn and left Carter to watch TV in the cool comfort of the air-conditioned living room.  I was turning 'round the one and only tree in the backyard when all of a sudden, there he was!  Carter poised at the other side of the tree.  Smiling that six-year-old toothless smile of his.  And holding out in front of him in his right hand (while the other arm was placed behind his back) a tall, ice & water filled water bottle.
"Here Mama!  I thought you might be thirsty!  It's very very hot out here!"
"Carter!  You scared me to death!  But I am so excited that you did this for me! .....  This was such a thoughtful thing to do for Mommy!"
Slight pause.
"Mom, didn't you think I could be thoughtful?"

Wow.  How do I answer that?  How does anyone in this situation answer that? 
"Yes!  I know you can be very thoughtful!  I guess I was just surprised today!" 
A white lie.  One of millions I'll admit.  Maybe trillions. 

Yes, Carter CAN BE so incredibly thoughtful that he was able to bring me to my knees once again praying and wondering what else he and He have in store for me.

I will never write a card or an email acknowledging thoughtfulness in the same way ever again.  Yet another example of something I really took for granted before God blessed me with this magical little boy (and his big brother of course).  Thank you God.  Seriously.

The Perfect Song for Mothers

My prayer for my children - so perfectly written and performed by Rachel Aldous:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=re5EIUIXbhc

On the 37th Day of School

Social stories.  Ever heard of them?  I knew social.  I knew stories.  I ASSUMED a simple definition when first exposed to the term.  But NOW I know them.  I live them, I write them.  I even fancy myself an author of social stories. 

Who knew that placing words and thoughts ON PAPER with IMAGES would be so incredibly effective at transforming the behavior of my difficult child?  Who knew?  Boy, do I wish I knew sooner.  That's the past however.

Now, I know.  Now, I spend time creating stories, simple stories to give my precious angel a guide for his day.  A guide for how to cope.  A guide for what language to use.  A guide for expectations.  Forgive me, but this explanation makes me sad and relieved all at once.  Sad because the need is so great and so THERE 24-7.  What would happen if I didn't fulfill the need?  I pray that nothing happens to me before this child is raised because he needs me.  Narcissistic of me?  Well, maybe.  But that's too bad.  He needs so much.  And I try so hard to fill those needs.  I'm not perfect and he could do better, but that wasn't in the cards.
My relief comes from the power of knowing I have a tool to overcome the hurdles that this crazy situation calls for.  I have the opportunity to help him even when I'm not present.  I'm giving him power and that makes me so grateful.

Speaking of gratitude.  Carter blew me away with gratitude today.  I gave him a little blue notebook from a conference I attended on Saturday.  For the past six and a half years I have observed his reaction to gifts.  While they've been warm and kind and appreciative, this was the first gift that he took the time to speak to the specific details on the notebook that made him so happy.  If I do nothing else as a parent, that was an acomplishment to be measured.  I don't really take the credit.  It's all God.  It's all Him carrying us and guiding us just like I ask Him to do every day.

Back to the social story.  As I talked to Carter about his power to make good choices even when he's feeling frustrated or disappointed, he told me about "Superflex" characters that Mrs. Lennon told him about at school.  I asked when she was talking about it, and he said, "on the 37th day of school."  How much do you want to bet it was that day and no other.  Amen.

Questions for Bolt By Danny

Welcome back to everyone's favorite game show, Questions for Bolt. So here i am watching the end of my show and Bolt the Disney movie comes on. And so it starts the endless questions from Carter. Is this rated PG, is this a good movie, is that real, did they paint that guys eye green. OH MY GOD.Just quiet for 1 MINUTE. Well i guess thats what you get for getting a one of a kind brother. We should really send this to disney and ask them to the writers. They're going to be out of answers. Know one really knows because Carter is unpredictable.

But Mom, I Do Love You So Much

I get a lot of material from my little man.  The quips and the stories are nonstop, and I delight in it.   But, I have to stop and write about my big boy, my man-child.  All of eleven and a half, with a size nine men's shoe and a baby face with the same cheeks since the toddler years.  He's often too good to be true.  So much so that I find myself digging for drama in his life.  Middle school.  It's awful, isn't it?  So far, so good.  Sixth grade has been fine.  He's entering the teen scene here and there not wanting to get up in the morning and not wanting to talk to me in front of his friends.  For the most part, it's been a smooth ride with sixth grade humor and the focus on shows, music, friends, church, and family.  Good.  Great even.

But today was really special.  I picked him up from middle school after he'd been at "Real World Club" where typical kids hang out with the special needs kids.  Yeah, I know.  They went to a basketball game with the group, and he said it was fun.  He's something special.

He and I were riding in the car when I mentioned how much Carter is loving me lately.  (Carter gives me two to three pictures or cards with pictures of he and I holding hands everyday now.)  I told Danny, "You went through a phase like that too Dan.  You were madly in love with mommy for a while too."

To my surprise (and to his dismay if he knew I were sharing this), Danny said, "I still do love you like crazy mama.  Don't you know that?" a brief pause, and then  "How could you not know that?"

Took my breath away.  Better than anything Hallmark could ever put together.  That's for darn sure.

Smells Like...

If there's one aspect of Carter's sensory issues, I've truly understood from the beginning, it's the dilemma of the super-senser.  You see, I'm a super-smeller.  Super!  Not really.  It's a curse.  Smelling anything and everything within a half mile radius is truly a curse.  Oh, but the smell of bread baking or a sizzling steak on the grill!  Or the sweet smell of baby lotion and Dreft!!  Yeah, that's a bonus I guess.  The problem is most of life's smells are really not that appealing.  People, for example.  Not always smelling appealing.  Summer's not so much fun really unless you've got a chlorinated pool close by.  Sports.  Kids.  Sweaty kids.  They really smell like wet dogs (no offense to the dog lovers).  Enough said.  Don't even get me started on shoes.  Breath.  Yeah.  You get it.  Putting me on a crowded city bus or worse the el train on a summer day is like torture.  Truly, the best thing about winter (the God forsaken season) is that most smells are covered up with coats, car exhaust or just the smell of "freeze."  See, if you don't know the smell of "freeze," you probably cannot relate, but I appreciate your effort to understand.  And just think, someone like me is really helpful when you leave your coffee pot plugged in too long or your curling iron is scorching something in the bathroom.  Gotta look for the positives, right?  So, yes, I am proud to say that I acknowledge my super-smeller and try to celebrate it as much as one can.

So, when Carter walked out of day care today proclaiming that the day smelled like "2008," I understood.  Somewhat.  I mean, I have never named smells in such a colorful way, but I do get that life has certain smells that define it.  When he later said that it smells like June 20, 2008, I'm more intrigued.   Wishing I'd kept a daily journal because there's a part of me that wonders what we did that day and if there wasn't someone or something smelling a certain way.  Or was it just a Carter-ism?  Either way, I'm grateful.  He keeps me looking around a little longer, a little deeper, a little further.  Appreciating the moment.  "It smells like 2008."  What a great thought for the day.