This past weekend Brad and I and the kids got up at an un-Godly hour on a Saturday to go take a look at other men's trash. Translation...we went garage-saling. I enjoy a bargain just as much as my thrifty peers, but I also enjoy my sleep and really nothing could be on sale so much that I need to sacrifice slumber for it. Well, I can think of a few things, but I've never seen a sale on willpower and sanity.
Mason is really into thrifting and with twenty five dollars of leftover report card money she couldn't wait to go treasure hunting, which is why we made the effort to go. On Saturdays she goes to drama class from ten to twelve, so we needed to get an early start so she would have ample time to "shop" before leaving for class. Once we got dressed, filled up with coffee and in the car, our eyelids began to stay open on their own. My mom joined us as she also loves a sale. And this wasn't just any garage sale. It was an annual event in a very trendy neighborhood and sixty houses were participating, so there was a good chance we would find something that peaked our interest. We brought the wagon for Miss Cam's and headed down the sidewalk. Right off the bat, Cam spotted something she had to have....playdoh! It was used, of course, but who cares? She grabbed it out of the container, opened it up and before I could ask how much it was she was rolling it between her hands. Twenty five cents later it was ours along with a five dollar drum she had to have. A few houses later Mason spied a large Ziploc bag full of plastic Disney dalmatians and a few Lion King figurines priced at a dollar. She handed the lady her money and became the proud owner of not quite 101 dalmatians. By this time Nat chimed in that she didn't have anything yet and sure enough at the next house she found a stuffed reindeer that she just couldn't live without. Another dollar transaction and it was her's...but only for a second before Camryn ripped it out of her hands. Nat started screaming and crying and Cam started screaming and pinching. And I don't even know why I am going into any of this because the point of this whole story is a woman at one of the houses asked me if Camryn was "a little slow". Yes...YES!! She asked me that!!! In front of Camryn!!!!! Cams and I had gotten separated from the rest of the fam and so as we made our way back to everyone we stopped at a sale and that is when it happened. It took me by surprise because I don't think in the past eight years anybody has asked me if my daughter was slow. They have looked at her and me with stares and glares and on occasion sympathetic smiles. I have had people ask if she was autistic, which I took no offense in because she is! But slow? That is so 1980's! I was standing there looking at stuffed animals and that's when she let it fly. She was standing on her porch steps so she was looking down at us, how appropriate, when she motioned to Camryn and whispered (but not really) "Is she a little slow?" It took me a moment to process, must be where Cam gets it from. I looked up at her, squinting my eyes in the sun and said "What??" She pointed to Cams and said "Slow, is she a little slow?" By this time I realized she was asking because she knew the look well from seeing it in the mirror every morning. "She has Autism if that's what you mean" I replied. She then told me she asked because she had a nephew who was in "special ed" so she was just wondering. "Ohhhhhh yeah, ok well, bye!!" I said as we headed out down the sidewalk. I was so ticked, but then I realized I shouldn't be because obviously anybody who thinks it's okay to ask a mother if her child is slow has some problems themselves. And when it comes down to it, Camryn has been slow in many ways. She was slow to sit up, roll over, stand, walk, talk, still waiting for reading and writing, etc. so in a way saying she is "slow" is accurate. But it is also accurate to say somebody who is heavy is fat and somebody who is not pleasant to look at is ugly. Accurate, but also very hurtful. And one thing I have been made so aware is that Camryn is hearing everything we say. The girl is a sponge, she retains it all but you reaaaaally have to squeeze to get it out. So for this woman to say that in front of her made me feel terrible! In this womans defense though, I am Camryn's mom and have spoken in front of her for years as if she were a rock. So I do not expect a stranger to be any less assuming of her mental capacity than I was. It just shocked me though to hear that people still associate silent with slow. One of my favorite sayings is "Just because they do not talk does not mean they have nothing to say!" It is so true for so many Autistic individuals and luckily Cammy is verbal, even if it is not in a conventional way.
After I left that woman, I realized that now more than ever I have to spread the word that Autism does not equal stupidity. Some of the most brilliant minds are housed in silent temples. I forget because I live it, that many people still know so little about Autism and I cannot help but feel it is my duty as Camryn's mom to help educate everyone I meet about it.
When we got home, the girls went out in the backyard to play in the sun. Nat brought her new reindeer out and as soon as Cam saw it she flew across the yard in hot pursuit of "Rudolph". I had to laugh at the notion that just hours earlier a woman had asked me if Camryn was slow. Looking at her chasing Natalie around, slow she was not! I decided that God forbid anybody ever ask me is my child is slow again I am going to look them in the eye and say " Her? Ha!No way! She can outrun both of her sisters!"
Monday, March 21, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
If The Shoe Fits....
As many of you know, alot of children with Autism do not "play" with toys as typical children do. It is often an object not normally thought of as entertaining that autistic kids find interesting instead of the usual dolls and army men. I cannot tell you how much money and time I have spent trying to find something in the toy store that would amuse Camryn for more than a couple of mintues. Dolls...nope! Stuffed animals....uh-uh! Littlest pet shops? Not happening! And you'd think by now I would have long ago given up on my search for the elusive entertainer, realizing that Hasbro and Mattel ain't got nothin' on Rubbermaid and the U.S. Mint when it comes to keeping Cams busy. You see, most of the time it is a spoon and a plastic tupperware bowl filled with mulch that keeps Camryn's attention the longest. Or a coin. Could be a penny, quarter or fifty cent piece. She doesn't mind, because she doesn't care how much it can buy, only how it feels in her hand or the sound they make when she "stirs" them in a plastic cup. And I love that, the simplicity and the basicness of it all, I really do. But as a mommy of little girls, it is just part of my genetic makeup to want to see all of my daughters playing with Barbies and little ponies and stuffies.Mason has been an animal lover since the day she was born, a plush Pooh bear by her side in the crib. She never developed an affection for dolls, which was okay because eventually Natalie was born and she is constantly shoving bottles and paci's into plastic mouths. But Cams, she's different like that. She has never really taken to toys in general and on the rare occasion a doll did make it into her hands, she would hold it up to my nose and tell me to smell it. I knew this but continued to bring playthings home to her hoping one of them would snap her out of it. I even resorted to baby toys even though she was many years past toddlerhood, and they actually worked for a bit. She liked the ones that played music and lit up. But mostly it is empty shampoo bottles, metal buckles and plastic clips that make her happy. I have learned that I am the one who wants her to play with "real" toys and it is so silly because who cares what she plays with as long as she is having fun. Her room still has some stuffed animals and a few dolls, but mostly there are metal spoons and baggies filled with marbles and mulch, with a stray dogbone here and there. It's what she likes so that's what we give her.
Yesterday I got out Natalie's old dollhouse. I put it on the porch with a bucket of barbie dolls and watched Nat go to town dressing each one and making up their "conversations" with each other. It was so cute and I smiled to myself as I folded laundry a few feet away. When Camryn came home, I forgot it was out there and when I opened the door for her to go outside I rushed to pick up the Barbies before Camryn stepped on them. I was beyond shocked when I saw her reach down, pick one up and lay it down on the plastic toy bed in the dollhouse. "Night-night" she said and giggled. "OMG!!!!!!!!" Was she playing dolls? I have been waiting eight years for this!!! I stood behind her and watched with anticipation as she walked over to the pile of doll clothes and searched through for a matching pair of plastic black wedges. Oh my gosh!!!! She is picking out clothes for the barbie!!! OMG, OMG, O-M-G!!! She headed over to the table, sat down and.......tried to put the half inch Barbie shoe on her own size 1 foot. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but chose laughter. It was funny because after all isn't it always the cutest pair of shoes on the rack that never fit? After trying to put three more pairs of Barbie shoes on her big toe, and getting very frustrated that it wasn't working, she threw the shoes down and headed out to the sand box settling down with a nice big bowl full of sand and grass,once again teaching me a very valuable lesson....if the shoe fit's wear it, but if it doesn't screw shoes and go play in the sand! Love it!!
Nat went back to playing dolls, Mason was in her room reading a good book and Cams was shifting the "grass soup" from one container to another. Everyone was happy and at the end of the day that's all that matters. So my kid doesn't play with toys, so what? So when they are grown I will have Mason's old Pooh Bear, Nats beloved baby doll and Cams favorite piece of mulch. It may not be the norm, but it's definitely par for our very interesting course!
Yesterday I got out Natalie's old dollhouse. I put it on the porch with a bucket of barbie dolls and watched Nat go to town dressing each one and making up their "conversations" with each other. It was so cute and I smiled to myself as I folded laundry a few feet away. When Camryn came home, I forgot it was out there and when I opened the door for her to go outside I rushed to pick up the Barbies before Camryn stepped on them. I was beyond shocked when I saw her reach down, pick one up and lay it down on the plastic toy bed in the dollhouse. "Night-night" she said and giggled. "OMG!!!!!!!!" Was she playing dolls? I have been waiting eight years for this!!! I stood behind her and watched with anticipation as she walked over to the pile of doll clothes and searched through for a matching pair of plastic black wedges. Oh my gosh!!!! She is picking out clothes for the barbie!!! OMG, OMG, O-M-G!!! She headed over to the table, sat down and.......tried to put the half inch Barbie shoe on her own size 1 foot. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but chose laughter. It was funny because after all isn't it always the cutest pair of shoes on the rack that never fit? After trying to put three more pairs of Barbie shoes on her big toe, and getting very frustrated that it wasn't working, she threw the shoes down and headed out to the sand box settling down with a nice big bowl full of sand and grass,once again teaching me a very valuable lesson....if the shoe fit's wear it, but if it doesn't screw shoes and go play in the sand! Love it!!
Nat went back to playing dolls, Mason was in her room reading a good book and Cams was shifting the "grass soup" from one container to another. Everyone was happy and at the end of the day that's all that matters. So my kid doesn't play with toys, so what? So when they are grown I will have Mason's old Pooh Bear, Nats beloved baby doll and Cams favorite piece of mulch. It may not be the norm, but it's definitely par for our very interesting course!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I'm pooped!!!
Okay....I know there is a reason for everything, but really what could be the reason for me having to clean up poop on a daily basis? What am I to learn from this? Not to be easily disgusted? Learned it! To have patience even in the "stickiest" of situations? Done! How to thoroughly disinfect a bedroom, hallway and bathroom while wearing nothing but a towel on my head? I'm a pro! So what else is left? Why is this continuing to happen? Uuuuuuggggghhhh!
Can you tell I am frustrated? Well I am!! And I apologize that so much of my blog lately has had to do with poop, but this is a blog about raising autism and often times potty issues come along with it, at least they do at our house! You all know how Cams loves to fill her panties up while I'm in the shower, and I'm on to her....I am sooooo on to her! Last Friday I knew I was going to have to shower while she was home so as soon as she got off the bus I led her to the bathroom, plopped her on the toilet and had her pee-pee as usual, but then I told her to try and "squeeze a toot out". She knows what this means and thought it was funny and to my surprise it worked! I heard her having gas and I knew surely some solids would be following. Oh my life!!! So sure enough she managed to squeeze out some poop. I jumped up and down, praised her, wiped her and put her in her room to play, feeling so relieved that I would be able to relax in the shower....or so I thought.
I was all lathered up, as I usually am when she starts her crap (pun totally intended!!) and I heard her yell "Poop!! Do you have poop on your finger honey?" Okay....I have been mad before in these poop situations, like really, really mad, but the "poop on the finger" thing was a whole new variable in a very old equation and I thought my head might explode right there in the shower! "Mommmmm!! Poop!! I have poop on my finger!! Wipes honey!" This time I didn't even bother rinsing off as I knew I'd be right back in. I grabbed a towel and stomped out of the bathroom. And there she was, leaning over her gate, her shorts and panties thrown in the hallway and her fingertips covered in poop. It wasn't a great deal of poop because thank God I had her go before or it could have been so much worse, but this was bad enough! It was a pasty consistency, which is good and bad. Good because it stays in one place and bad because it stays in one place. It was under her fingernails and on her knuckles and it was obvious that she really had to work to obtain this specimen, if you know what I mean. She totally did this just to get me out of the shower!!!! This girl is something else!!
I cleaned her up, told her I was "very, very sad!!!!!" with her, spanked her bottom, put her in the room and locked her door. I finished my shower listening to her scream and bang the door.
Saturday was a new day. Brad was home and the day was going well. About 3:00 I put Cam in her room while I helped Brad load a couch we were consigning into his truck. She had been outside all day playing so some alone time in her room was a good thing. She started screaming at her gate so I closed the door and locked it, which usually quiets her down. I went outside and loaded the couch. It took maybe ten minutes. When I came to let her out sure enough she had crapped her pants!!! Oh I wanted to scream, and I think maybe I did! Why, why, why, why, why, why, why!!!!! It was everywhere and to make it worse she was wearing a pair of my shoes. A very expensive pair that I picked up for a song at a sale. They are silver and slinky and hot looking shoes and I have worn them... okay I have never worn them, yet! But Cams likes to wear fancy shoes so I let her play in them. Well, not anymore because not only was there poop in her jean shorts and panties, down her leg, on her feet and the floor, it was also on my shoes!!! Noooooo!!!
Jean shorts and panties in the trash, but not the shoes, I would find a way to salvage them. I cleaned her up...again!! Spanked her and back in the room. Obviously it's not working, but what the hell else do I do?? I feel like I have tried everything!
That night we suffered temporary insanity as we sometimes do and decided to all go out to dinner. There are few restaurants we venture out to as a whole family unit. Applebees and Chilis are usually the only ones we set our circus down at, but this night they were both jam packed and waiting is not an option with Cammy. The only restaurant we could find that didn't have a line was the Ale House. It's not my favorite and we have never taken Camryn there, but we decided to take a gamble and really we should have just folded and gone home.
We are seated in a booth, Camryn, Mason in the middle, me on the end and Brad and Nat on the other side. Things are okay, the girls have their sprites and we are waiting for our nacho appetizer. The waitress is taking our meal order and then it happens....Camryn drops her drink. It's in a kid cup with a lid, but the lid popped off and drink and ice went all over the floor under the booth. It shouldn't be a problem though because Camryn's feet don't touch the ground and therefore are not getting wet. But Autistic children often have a big problem with spills and they want them cleaned up....NOW!!! And Cams is one of those kids.She starts screaming and freaking out and the waitress looks scared. She is very sweet though and offers to get a mop if it would help, but we decline, knowing that would be an even bigger ordeal. Changing booths would cause more of a scene so Mason, Cam and I switch seats with Brad and Nat and after a little commotion all is well for a moment. The nachos come and after about four bites Camryn drops the tiniest bit of something on her shirt. Well forget about it, that shirt has to come off, also NOW!!! She starts grabbing my hand saying "Help me please! Shirt off honey!" I am trying to distract her so she may forget about it, but who was I kidding? She's screaming and crying, grabbing at her shirt, trying to get it off. I took her by the hand, told Brad to get the food to go and the bill and fighting back tears, escorted my screaming child past the crowd of gawking patrons who had obviously never seen a child throw a tantrum before. I got Camryn out the door and she was screaming for Brad and Mason and Natalie. I lead her to the car and sat her in the seat, where she continued to scream and "growl", calling quite a bit of attention our way. I took her shirt off and then dove into my trunk praying that in one of the Goodwill bags I keep forgetting to drop off there will be a shirt for Cams. Thank God at the very bottom of one of the bags I found an old pajama top. I didn't care that it was sleepwear and in no way matched her bottoms, pulled it over her head and made a call to my Dad begging him to come get her. No luck, he was sitting down to dinner and nobody else was available. I stood at the car wondering what to do. I had told Brad to get the check, but I hated that we had to leave because of Camryn's behavior, robbing Mason and Natalie of dinner out with the family. I decided to go back in and try it again. I walked Camryn to the booth and we sat down. The food was still being prepared and boxed, so we munched on the nachos while we waited. Camryn was much calmer now, but it required our constantly maintaining her mood, careful not to let anything happen that might upset her. She loves tomatoes, so we kept picking them out of the nachos and handing them to her. I held her drink as she sipped so there would be no spilling or dripping. It was working, but eventually we ran out of tomatoes. When Cams finishes eating, she will shove her plate in your face and that is if you're lucky. Sometimes she will fling it....it's something we are working on. Well, that night was more of a flinging night and it started with a few coasters headed Brads way. He caught them, but then Cams picked up a glass. I intercepted that one but not before she grabbed a steak knife with her other hand and Brad grabbed her wrist and managed to get it away from her. I grabbed any plates within reach and wondered where in the hell was our waitress? The food finally came out, we paid and walked out the door. The hostess said "Have a good night! Come back and see us!" and I said to Brad "Ummm, did this chick just get here?" At home, we passed out the styrofoam boxes of cold grilled cheese and soggy fries. Not quite the dinner we expected, but what are you gonna do?
Sunday morning, I awoke at 6:45 a.m. to the sound of "Wipes. I need the wipes honey!" I got up, started a pot of really strong coffee and went in for the clean up. And so another day began...another day of raising autism.
Can you tell I am frustrated? Well I am!! And I apologize that so much of my blog lately has had to do with poop, but this is a blog about raising autism and often times potty issues come along with it, at least they do at our house! You all know how Cams loves to fill her panties up while I'm in the shower, and I'm on to her....I am sooooo on to her! Last Friday I knew I was going to have to shower while she was home so as soon as she got off the bus I led her to the bathroom, plopped her on the toilet and had her pee-pee as usual, but then I told her to try and "squeeze a toot out". She knows what this means and thought it was funny and to my surprise it worked! I heard her having gas and I knew surely some solids would be following. Oh my life!!! So sure enough she managed to squeeze out some poop. I jumped up and down, praised her, wiped her and put her in her room to play, feeling so relieved that I would be able to relax in the shower....or so I thought.
I was all lathered up, as I usually am when she starts her crap (pun totally intended!!) and I heard her yell "Poop!! Do you have poop on your finger honey?" Okay....I have been mad before in these poop situations, like really, really mad, but the "poop on the finger" thing was a whole new variable in a very old equation and I thought my head might explode right there in the shower! "Mommmmm!! Poop!! I have poop on my finger!! Wipes honey!" This time I didn't even bother rinsing off as I knew I'd be right back in. I grabbed a towel and stomped out of the bathroom. And there she was, leaning over her gate, her shorts and panties thrown in the hallway and her fingertips covered in poop. It wasn't a great deal of poop because thank God I had her go before or it could have been so much worse, but this was bad enough! It was a pasty consistency, which is good and bad. Good because it stays in one place and bad because it stays in one place. It was under her fingernails and on her knuckles and it was obvious that she really had to work to obtain this specimen, if you know what I mean. She totally did this just to get me out of the shower!!!! This girl is something else!!
I cleaned her up, told her I was "very, very sad!!!!!" with her, spanked her bottom, put her in the room and locked her door. I finished my shower listening to her scream and bang the door.
Saturday was a new day. Brad was home and the day was going well. About 3:00 I put Cam in her room while I helped Brad load a couch we were consigning into his truck. She had been outside all day playing so some alone time in her room was a good thing. She started screaming at her gate so I closed the door and locked it, which usually quiets her down. I went outside and loaded the couch. It took maybe ten minutes. When I came to let her out sure enough she had crapped her pants!!! Oh I wanted to scream, and I think maybe I did! Why, why, why, why, why, why, why!!!!! It was everywhere and to make it worse she was wearing a pair of my shoes. A very expensive pair that I picked up for a song at a sale. They are silver and slinky and hot looking shoes and I have worn them... okay I have never worn them, yet! But Cams likes to wear fancy shoes so I let her play in them. Well, not anymore because not only was there poop in her jean shorts and panties, down her leg, on her feet and the floor, it was also on my shoes!!! Noooooo!!!
Jean shorts and panties in the trash, but not the shoes, I would find a way to salvage them. I cleaned her up...again!! Spanked her and back in the room. Obviously it's not working, but what the hell else do I do?? I feel like I have tried everything!
That night we suffered temporary insanity as we sometimes do and decided to all go out to dinner. There are few restaurants we venture out to as a whole family unit. Applebees and Chilis are usually the only ones we set our circus down at, but this night they were both jam packed and waiting is not an option with Cammy. The only restaurant we could find that didn't have a line was the Ale House. It's not my favorite and we have never taken Camryn there, but we decided to take a gamble and really we should have just folded and gone home.
We are seated in a booth, Camryn, Mason in the middle, me on the end and Brad and Nat on the other side. Things are okay, the girls have their sprites and we are waiting for our nacho appetizer. The waitress is taking our meal order and then it happens....Camryn drops her drink. It's in a kid cup with a lid, but the lid popped off and drink and ice went all over the floor under the booth. It shouldn't be a problem though because Camryn's feet don't touch the ground and therefore are not getting wet. But Autistic children often have a big problem with spills and they want them cleaned up....NOW!!! And Cams is one of those kids.She starts screaming and freaking out and the waitress looks scared. She is very sweet though and offers to get a mop if it would help, but we decline, knowing that would be an even bigger ordeal. Changing booths would cause more of a scene so Mason, Cam and I switch seats with Brad and Nat and after a little commotion all is well for a moment. The nachos come and after about four bites Camryn drops the tiniest bit of something on her shirt. Well forget about it, that shirt has to come off, also NOW!!! She starts grabbing my hand saying "Help me please! Shirt off honey!" I am trying to distract her so she may forget about it, but who was I kidding? She's screaming and crying, grabbing at her shirt, trying to get it off. I took her by the hand, told Brad to get the food to go and the bill and fighting back tears, escorted my screaming child past the crowd of gawking patrons who had obviously never seen a child throw a tantrum before. I got Camryn out the door and she was screaming for Brad and Mason and Natalie. I lead her to the car and sat her in the seat, where she continued to scream and "growl", calling quite a bit of attention our way. I took her shirt off and then dove into my trunk praying that in one of the Goodwill bags I keep forgetting to drop off there will be a shirt for Cams. Thank God at the very bottom of one of the bags I found an old pajama top. I didn't care that it was sleepwear and in no way matched her bottoms, pulled it over her head and made a call to my Dad begging him to come get her. No luck, he was sitting down to dinner and nobody else was available. I stood at the car wondering what to do. I had told Brad to get the check, but I hated that we had to leave because of Camryn's behavior, robbing Mason and Natalie of dinner out with the family. I decided to go back in and try it again. I walked Camryn to the booth and we sat down. The food was still being prepared and boxed, so we munched on the nachos while we waited. Camryn was much calmer now, but it required our constantly maintaining her mood, careful not to let anything happen that might upset her. She loves tomatoes, so we kept picking them out of the nachos and handing them to her. I held her drink as she sipped so there would be no spilling or dripping. It was working, but eventually we ran out of tomatoes. When Cams finishes eating, she will shove her plate in your face and that is if you're lucky. Sometimes she will fling it....it's something we are working on. Well, that night was more of a flinging night and it started with a few coasters headed Brads way. He caught them, but then Cams picked up a glass. I intercepted that one but not before she grabbed a steak knife with her other hand and Brad grabbed her wrist and managed to get it away from her. I grabbed any plates within reach and wondered where in the hell was our waitress? The food finally came out, we paid and walked out the door. The hostess said "Have a good night! Come back and see us!" and I said to Brad "Ummm, did this chick just get here?" At home, we passed out the styrofoam boxes of cold grilled cheese and soggy fries. Not quite the dinner we expected, but what are you gonna do?
Sunday morning, I awoke at 6:45 a.m. to the sound of "Wipes. I need the wipes honey!" I got up, started a pot of really strong coffee and went in for the clean up. And so another day began...another day of raising autism.
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