Introducing: The Gummy Bear

I always knew I would have a big family. You can't come from a family of nine and think anything less. I'm sure every round of M.A.S.H. I played in fifth grade said I was going to have at least six kids (I don't think I ever wrote down options of anything less).
Well remember when I said I'm a planner? One of the many annoying things about autism is that it changed my plans. I was sitting in a support group once listening to an expecting mom describe her fears of having another child with autism, and I knew then that my plans had changed. We went to a genetics clinic and we read all the research. We found out that autism has a genetic component. Although we know a couple of families who have more than one child with autism and do it gracefully (albeit I'm sure they don't feel that way), the thought of Waylon The Sequel scares the hajeebies out of me. I love him, God loves him, heck most everyone he's ever met loves him, but one of him is enough.

So I have discovered that God waits for those moments, when He hears us say, "We have a plan" to really throw a wrench in the system.

Well, I don't know if I can necessarily call it a wrench. According to the sonogram last month, it looks more like a gummy bear.
(Insert "don't you know how that happens" joke here.)

So even though my mind had come to a practical and rational decision, I can't say that my heart's not just downright giddy with excitement. I've wanted this baby since, well probably since I was about 10. Sure I'm scared, but it's too late to spend time worrying now. I called the obstetrician, the developmental pediatrician, I've googled "prenatal autism prevention" more times than you can shake a stick at... and do you know what they all say? Don't worry so much.

If we had known Waylon had autism before Rose Mary was born, would we have had second thoughts? What would our lives be like without her? I don't even care to think about it.
I think in a couple of years we won't even remember what life was like before the gummy bear. Because I think it will be perfect. Just the way He planned.

I count my blessings and thank God for each of them daily. And I firmly, and probably selfishly, believe that He has blessed me more than most.     -from I'm a planner.

Night on the town

Went out for a night on the town with the kids tonight... major celebration of this week's B words.
Mom's Birthday, Dad's Birthday, and Mom finished her BSN!!!
Ain't nobody getting lost in this party...

Thanks Aunt Kara for the permanent marker/liquid bandaid tip!

 

 

Night on the town update: After way too much fun swimming, an unfortunately long afternoon nap, and a midnight chocolate ice cream snack, it was determined that Waylon would not be doing much sleeping in the hotel room. Scared that he would decide on a late night trip back down to the pool, father-of-the-year (aka Travis) slept in front of the hotel room door. Like I said, ain't nobody getting lost on this trip.

Caden put his wet trunks on the door knob so Waylon wouldn't want to touch it. Such a good brother.

 

All went well, no one escaped, and everyone had a blast on our mini vacay. Minus Waylon throwing up chocolate ice cream at breakfast this morning. Oops.

 

Ironically, even though it was our birthday celebration, Trav and I seem to be the only ones who are plum worn out. Glad to be back at home with booby trapped doors, Bob the Builder in the DVD player, and a new, fluffy recliner (happy birthday to me!) that is calling. my. name...

Messy messy messy

Most of the words that Waylon uses in a day are echolalia.

Echolalia is a fancy word for repeating phrases he's heard before. (Like an echo... Get it?)

Most of the time, his echolalic phrases are from movies, but sometimes he repeats things he has heard us say too. Last Christmas, we got so excited when he said, "Messy, messy, messy" when he spilled his milk. But we quickly realized that this is what the magician says on Frosty the Snowman when Frosty starts to melt. 

He finds ways to use the limited number of phrases he has, to get his point across. For example, one of his favorite phrases is "Get in your seat," which he has heard Travis and I say a million times when we are getting in the van. However, he uses "Get in your seat" to describe anytime he wants us to sit down for something- to eat supper, to watch a movie, or to go for a car ride. And because he doesn't know how to ask for those things specifically, he simply says "Get in your seat".

So even though he isn't coming up with these phrases on his own- he is using them functionally to communicate. And being able to understand what he is trying to say is awesome.

Except for maybe this morning.... 

I was sitting in the recliner, holding Waylon and his blankie in a sweet, special moment, when he pulled up my shirt, pointed at the old stretch marks on my belly, and said, "Messy, messy, messy." 

Yes, Waylon, I get what you're saying. Thanks.

Boy genius

Upon finding out I have a son with autism, the automatic, #1, most frequently asked question is, "So, what's his... thing?"
You know, everyone knows that people with autism either play piano like Billy Joel, or have photographic memories,  or can at least remember baseball stats like Rainman. Even though the Autism Research Institute estimates that only 10% of people with autism have savant abilities (compared to 1% of the rest of us), people always assume that since he has autism he's really a closet genius.
So I say, "Um, he likes cars."
It is true that restricted interests, such as obsessing over one specific toy, or movie, or topic, is one of the criteria for diagnosing autism. So even though he may not be a savant, the boy has mad skills when it comes to lining up cars. He's obsessed.
Lately, he's figured out how to take pictures with the iPad, and he has a new restricted interest: photography. (I think he must take after his cousin Kristen). He no longer wants to play the apps on the iPad, but instead I find myself deleting over 800 pictures a day that he has taken of his cars. (See, I told you he was obsessed).
So, typical mom here, I think this little photography obsession is pretty cute. And some of his pictures are really good! He would just go haywire if I had them blown up and hung on the wall in his room... I think I might.
So if he really is a photography savant, and someday his work starts appearing in famous museums and galleries, now you can say that you knew that famous photographer when he was just starting out.
A boy genius.