At this current moment in time, all I hope for Waylon is that he is able to have his own home someday, so I can go to his house, drop my pants, and lay a pile of crap on his carpet.
That is all I needed to say right now, thanks for letting me vent.
I need to go find the Lysol.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
the naive one
Once upon a time, there was a couple with an amazingly cute, charming, well-behaved three-year-old, and a growing, losing-the-baby-look, busy, giggling one-year-old, and they said "Parenting is easy. Let's have another!"
And God smiled.
So they were blessed with the naive one.
The naive one does not know what autism is. She has a brother who is sometimes annoying, but she loves him so much. She gets in his face. She drags him around. She is bossy, and rude, and gives sloppy kisses. He is crazy and wild and splashes water in her face. She steals his cars, just to hear him scream. He screams, she stomps her feet, and they have an argument... without words.
And so he grows up in a neurotypical sandwich, worth more than all the therapy in the world.
The naive one has far passed him developmentally, but she doesn't know it yet. She think she's his mother, but then again, she thinks she is all of ours' mother. She has high expectations for him. He is her big brother, after all.
So yesterday, the naive one yells "I love you Mom!" twice. I say, "You just said that, silly girl." And she says, "I know, the second one was from Waylon. He's shy."
I've said it once, and I'll say it again. This is stuff you can't dream. And all year long, but especially this week, I am ever so grateful to the One who concocted this life of mine. God is so good.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of your families, from ours.
And God smiled.
So they were blessed with the naive one.
The naive one does not know what autism is. She has a brother who is sometimes annoying, but she loves him so much. She gets in his face. She drags him around. She is bossy, and rude, and gives sloppy kisses. He is crazy and wild and splashes water in her face. She steals his cars, just to hear him scream. He screams, she stomps her feet, and they have an argument... without words.
And so he grows up in a neurotypical sandwich, worth more than all the therapy in the world.
The naive one has far passed him developmentally, but she doesn't know it yet. She think she's his mother, but then again, she thinks she is all of ours' mother. She has high expectations for him. He is her big brother, after all.
So yesterday, the naive one yells "I love you Mom!" twice. I say, "You just said that, silly girl." And she says, "I know, the second one was from Waylon. He's shy."
I've said it once, and I'll say it again. This is stuff you can't dream. And all year long, but especially this week, I am ever so grateful to the One who concocted this life of mine. God is so good.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of your families, from ours.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Among other things...Nutella is not to be eaten from the jar.
Shortly after the last post, which was a weekend of insomniac nutella fests and smashing light bulbs with mardi gras beads, I had the soul-cleansing pleasure of taking a mini roadtrip across southern Missouri on probably the most beautiful weekend of fall.
And it was just what the doctor ordered.
I think Waylon did too.
We turned a sharp curve and found this cute little nook in the middle of nowhere. Just cute as all get out, it was screaming at me to pull over and come in for a peek. But alas, I saw the invisible sign on the door that said, "No kids with autism allowed." So it will have to wait for a grown-ups only road trip someday.
A couple of weeks later, Travis and I were entranced by the words of a woman with autism who was unable to speak until she was four years old. Meeting Temple Grandin was amazing, and we came home with lots of new ideas to try, books to read, and most of all, hope.
PS- If you haven't seen the movie Temple Grandin, do it. Now.
Then it was Halloween, quite possibly Waylon's least favorite holiday. He hates costumes, only getting one piece out of a huge bowl of candy, and not getting to go in to explore every single house we stop at. Other than that, we had a great time.
And as always, Trav and I went on our monthly date. Because I don't care who you are, or if your kids are angels, you'll be a better parent if you find time in your busy schedule for yourself, and each other. Even if you watch one half of the worst NFL team in history sucking big monkey chunks, it's worth it.
And among all these happenings this month, we're still working on understanding that although Nutella is delicious, it is not to be eaten straight from the jar. =(
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Insomnia.
Waylon is a total insomniac.
It's nothing new, really- many studies have shown and many autism moms can attest to the magical hours between midnight and six A.M. when kids with autism are at their finest.
The real irony of it all is, at the end of the day, parents of kids with autism need sleep. Bad. And Waylon shows no mercy.
So, in the wee hours this morning when Waylon came running into our bedroom with Travis's most precious circa 1970's A-Team replica van that is cautiously hidden on the highest shelf of a rarely opened closet in the utility room.... I just smiled. Travis did not.
When we surveyed the damage in the kitchen, where Waylon annihilated half a jar of Nutella and a loaf of bread with a plastic fork... Travis just smiled. I did not.
It's these moments when I am so thankful to have such a great husband. We keep each other calm, we keep each other laughing, and we keep each other from duct taping him down at night.
If you're wondering where the "half a jar" of Nutella went- it went in his mouth, straight off the fork. Yeah, I think he's gonna need an extra dose of Melatonin tonight.
It's nothing new, really- many studies have shown and many autism moms can attest to the magical hours between midnight and six A.M. when kids with autism are at their finest.
The real irony of it all is, at the end of the day, parents of kids with autism need sleep. Bad. And Waylon shows no mercy.
So, in the wee hours this morning when Waylon came running into our bedroom with Travis's most precious circa 1970's A-Team replica van that is cautiously hidden on the highest shelf of a rarely opened closet in the utility room.... I just smiled. Travis did not.
When we surveyed the damage in the kitchen, where Waylon annihilated half a jar of Nutella and a loaf of bread with a plastic fork... Travis just smiled. I did not.
It's these moments when I am so thankful to have such a great husband. We keep each other calm, we keep each other laughing, and we keep each other from duct taping him down at night.If you're wondering where the "half a jar" of Nutella went- it went in his mouth, straight off the fork. Yeah, I think he's gonna need an extra dose of Melatonin tonight.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
ohmygoodness
Look at this boy grow!
Remember last year's school pics?
I still don't think he's wearing any pants.
abso-stinking-lutely adorable
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Do you think it would be inappropriate for me to hold an inservice with Waylon's teachers on the correct way to rinse poop out of underwear?
I am well aware that these amazingly patient, talented, kind-hearted and selfless people did not go to college to learn how to rinse out underwear.
That's why I would like to teach them myself.
It sure would make Waylon's backpack and my laundry room smell better.
I am well aware that these amazingly patient, talented, kind-hearted and selfless people did not go to college to learn how to rinse out underwear.
That's why I would like to teach them myself.
It sure would make Waylon's backpack and my laundry room smell better.
Monday, September 10, 2012
It's about time...
Odds are, if you've ever read a media headline about autism, it has the word vaccine in it somewhere, or it is reporting the latest numbers of kids being diagnosed.
Well, frankly my friends, I don't give a crap.
It's too late for us now for the vaccine fight. Whether you are pro or con, we're up to date until junior high. And, I'm dearly sorry about the other 87, but I'm mostly concerned about what to do with my #1.
We walk for autism, we donate where we can, and for pete's sake we pay our taxes. I just don't understand, when so many dollars are raised and we have the most high-tech healthcare system in the world, why we can't come up with some answers.
Stop with the blessed vaccine argument. Stop with the incessantly depressing head counts. Throw me a bone here, researchers- I just want to figure out how to get my kid to talk.
Alright, so down from the pedestal with some good news. This article caught my eye this morning. FINALLY! Research that seems promising. Dollars being spent for a good cause. Sure, it's early in the studies, but maybe someday.... I'll shoot some meds up my kid's nose, and words will come out of his mouth. Maybe...
Well, frankly my friends, I don't give a crap.
It's too late for us now for the vaccine fight. Whether you are pro or con, we're up to date until junior high. And, I'm dearly sorry about the other 87, but I'm mostly concerned about what to do with my #1.
We walk for autism, we donate where we can, and for pete's sake we pay our taxes. I just don't understand, when so many dollars are raised and we have the most high-tech healthcare system in the world, why we can't come up with some answers.
Stop with the blessed vaccine argument. Stop with the incessantly depressing head counts. Throw me a bone here, researchers- I just want to figure out how to get my kid to talk.
Alright, so down from the pedestal with some good news. This article caught my eye this morning. FINALLY! Research that seems promising. Dollars being spent for a good cause. Sure, it's early in the studies, but maybe someday.... I'll shoot some meds up my kid's nose, and words will come out of his mouth. Maybe...
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