Duck Duck Goose

I'm going to throw a big word at you today. Ready for it?
Reciprocity. Say it like this: res-ih-pross-ih-tee.
So the dictionary says reciprocity is a "mutual exchange". I say it's everything.
I mean, Newton's Law said that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, right? Everything you do causes someone or something to respond. That's reciprocity. And a lack of reciprocity is actually one of the criteria of an Autism diagnosis.

When someone looks at you in the eye, you look back (and probably say "Hi" unless you're a creeper). That's reciprocity. When someone says "I hate your guts" you'll probably get angry or upset. You might even cry. That's reciprocity. If you say "Hi" to Waylon, he can't say "Hi" back. But it's not like he can't actually say "Hi". It's like he's got nothing in the reciprocity department. You could say, "Say Hi, Waylon." And he would say, "Say Hi, Waylon." You could even say "I hate your guts, Waylon" and he would probably look at you and giggle and flap his arms. He would have no clue how to respond. It's just his lack of reciprocity. (Even though I'm not sure who would say that. Because I mean the kid is freaking gorgeous and awesome).
So mostly, when I say Waylon can't talk, I don't mean he can't actually say words. I mean he's got nothing in the reciprocity department. I could spend all day saying "Waylon, say I want fish sticks" and Waylon would say "Waylon, say I want fish sticks". He just can't reciprocate on his own. When I say, "Hey, Waylon, what do you want for lunch today?", he can't say, "Hey Mom, I want some fish sticks".
One of the most difficult things is watching a toddler initiate play with Waylon and seeing him completely ignore them like he has no clue what to do (even though he's twice their age). Because he honestly doesn't know what to do. When it comes to reciprocity, the boys got no skills.

So what's the gold standard for teaching reciprocity to preschoolers? Duck, Duck, Goose, of course. Waylon's been working on learning Duck, Duck, Goose since he was knee high to a grasshopper. And although he just graduated Kindergarten, I suspect that they were still spending quite a bit of time learning Duck, Duck, Goose.
Because guess what? He's finally getting it. For the first time, Waylon understands enough reciprocity to sit down and play a game with his brother and sister without being forced into it.
And he loves it.
It's the perfect game for Waylon, really. It's predictable, but it has just enough suspense. It's repetitious, but he knows he can take off running to get an extra giggle out of his brother and sister at any moment (and Mom and Dad too). It's the perfect way for Waylon to show us how much he loves to be with us.
It's reciprocity. And it's awesome.

See for yourself!

If the video doesn't appear, you can click here to see it on YouTube.

Date Day

Love me some date day action.

It is a requirement, of course, that we schedule time for ourselves each month. Not at a wedding, or a party where we spend our time catching up with friends. On an honest-to-goodness date, where we spend our time catching up with each other. No crappy pants, no screaming, no chasing children allowed.

Last month the stars aligned and our work schedules gave us one beautiful Tuesday together. I was so pumped. I waited for it all month.

 

 

We put the kids on the bus and went to town for breakfast. Then we headed out to hit some flea markets and antique stores. Margaritas and Dos Equis for lunch.

 

Trav scored a new (old) pocket knife and I found a whole set of carrom pieces to go with the antique carrom board I scored at a flea market a few years ago. (Sweet!)

Here are a couple deals that we decided not to bring home... 



Because a deer head on the wall isn't creepy enough, let's use his feet for coat hangers. I feel like he's just flipping us off with all four feet.





Hopefully this actually worked and it's not still teaming with creatures. Nobody wants to take that home after a date.

 

So I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again. People think they don't have time for dates because they are busy raising their children? The best thing you can do for your children is show them how much you and your spouse care about each other. You will be better parents if you take time out for yourselves, and your children will be better people for it too.

 

Now don't get me wrong, going on monthly date nights does not make our marriage perfect. Au contraire, sometimes I really want to kill him. Being married is seriously a job. And like any job, you have to commit yourself to it.

 

Now that Spring has sprung, I'm thinking our next date will be a trip to the golf course (Insert inappropriate joke here Eric, Allyssa, Matt, and Val).

He is so awesome at everything, but he is terrible at golf. It does my ego good to smoke him at something every now and then.

Where are you going on your next date?



5 Reasons Special Ed Teachers Rock

Over the past four years, we have had nearly 40 special education teachers, paras, tutors, speech pathologists, occupational therapists, and BCBA's touch our lives. We still keep in touch with many of them, and we think of most of them often. So as we finished up Teacher Appreciation Week last week, I couldn't help but think of some of the reasons why special education teachers are so amazing.
The first one that comes to mind....

     1. They wipe kids' butts.
I mean, seriously, is that in the job description? I doubt it. But they do it anyways. Plus, after the butt is clean, they have crappy underwear to take care of. Who specializes in Underwear Rinsing? Not these people. It's just one of the perks of the job.

     2. They don't get a lunch break.
Because when they sit down in a miniature chair to open their lunchbox on the miniature table, across the room ten kids are screaming and/or throwing themselves or their chairs on the floor in protest of their GFCF (tasteless) lunch.

     3. They wear their heart snot on their sleeve.
If you consider that each Lysol wipe kills 1,000 germs, and each container has 100 wipes, the obligatory two Lysol containers I sent could have killed about 200,000 germs. Factor in each of the ten snotty cesspools whose sneezes deliver 100,000 germs at 100 miles per hour and I'm pretty sure we were behind in the germ race twenty minutes into the first day of school in the fall. Plus, kids who can't really communicate have a little trouble understanding the whole elbow-sneeze technique. Ever heard of hand-over-hand prompting? Only if you have plenty of germ-x.

     4. They brush ten sets of teeth a day.
Do I even need to describe a scene where ten children who don't like sensory stimulation are getting their teeth brushed at once? Actually I can't describe it, because I can't fathom it. One is enough for me. Does every special education classroom even do this? Probably only the really awesome ones. (Ahem... Mrs. Boyer's class.)



Patience is... teaching a kid who can't say a fluent sentence
how to write his name. Amazing.

     5. They have the patience of saints. 
People think I have a lot of patience, but the truth is when the going gets tough, I can always pop in a Pixar movie and hand out Little Debbies for a few minutes of peace with a Nicholas Sparks book. Special education teachers don't have that luxury. They're on their toes all day. While other teachers are worrying about finding popsicle sticks for a pinterest craft, special education teachers are worrying about being ready for a seizure, or an emotional mom at an IEP meeting. When most teachers are prepping for a summer of freedom from the crazy kids that have been driving them nuts since Spring Break, special education teachers are prepping for summer school or social skills groups, or new classroom strategies to try in the Fall. And at the end of the day, when they are exhausted and worn out, tired of crappy pants and screaming kids and collecting data and documenting behaviors, they still find the time to write a note to say your kid was a "rock star" (miss you Gentri =) ) plus three incident reports from your kid banging their head on the floor/desk/wall.
And all the meanwhile, I'm afraid they aren't realizing how incredibly important they are in the lives of so many families.

So in lieu of the kids in class who are sensory avoiding and don't offer bear hugs each morning, or for the kids who are language delayed and can't express their gratitude for all you do, or even for the kids who just hate your stinking guts because you make them say words before you let them have their snack...
Thank you.
From the bottom of our hearts.



Disclaimer: This post was not intended to make any special education teachers cry. If however, this occurs, it is only fair. You make us cry at every milestone, every note of awesomeness, every IEP meeting, and every therapy bill.

Toiletphobia

I finally got my smart phone back.
But now I have a toiletphobia.
We were road tripping again today, and my phone was terrified.

 

I am terrified for the day this girl turns 16.

 

Here's to a good insurance plan and urine-free cell phones. People who take pictures in public restrooms. And sassy four year olds who turn into well behaved, saint-like, honest and charming teenagers... right????

 

Hope you all have an amazing week!



Let's Clear Things Up

Yesterday was a beautiful day. I worked from dawn til dusk on Saturday, so I was determined to make my Sunday amazing. And thanks to smartphones and facebook, I got to share the love all day long. (Even though this drives Travis crazay).

 

My first post: "It was a Country Mart fried chicken in the park after church kind of day."

 

We played soccer and chased geese. Swung the kids til our wrists were sore and let them push us on the merry-go-round. Got greasy faces from our fried chicken and ate a whole plastic container of chocolate cupcakes from the CM deli. Drug Waylon away from making splashes in the water kicking and screaming. And then we came home and changed clothes to spend the rest of the afternoon outside.

 

My second post: "Going to find momma some mushrooms."

 

The kids played outside all afternoon in the amazing Spring weather. They went mushroom hunting. Travis fired up the smoker and threw in some ribs. Waylon played in the leftover rainwater in the sand table on the deck while Rose Mary and Caden headed out for an adventure.

 

My third post: "Kids went out "adventuring", and I found them 15 feet up a cedar tree. #myheartstopped ...But obviously I came to in time to snap a picture."

 

Then late afternoon, in need of a bit of solitude, I went to town to return some movies to the video store and enjoy 20 minutes in the van with my audio book. In town I decided to stop by the liquor store and wouldn't you know- I got caught red handed. The clerk says, "Oh, I read your blog this week!"

 

It dawns on me that I may need to clear things up a little. Even though I may portray one on facebook, or the blog, I'm no superhero. I'm no mother of the year.  Just your typical mom, raising my kids one day at a time.

 

And some days he drives me to drink.

 

 

 

Autism Awareness

I've had really great intentions to blog like crazy during April- you know, Autism Awareness Month. I know you've at least heard of it- pictures and videos are all over facebook and the puzzle piece is everywhere. (Even over there --->!) But other than braving Saturday morning soccer with a stimming, screaming kid, I haven't done much to spread the awareness.

This year marks our fourth Autism Awareness Month since Waylon's diagnosis. In the beginning, I started this blog to help my family be aware of what autism is, and to help them understand Waylon. Eventually, it expanded to friends, then facebook, and last month there were 737 blog hits of people who came here to learn about autism. Whoa. That's huge. And I love it.

Here's the way I see it. Waylon is six now, and although I've heard lots of great stories about the kid who just "grew out" of their autism, it's not looking hopeful for us. And every bit of awareness I can spread now, will help Waylon in the future. If the number of shared photos and videos to my facebook wall is even an inkling of an indication, I know Waylon is loved. And maybe I'm a bit bias, but when you read the blog and learn more about who Waylon really is (not just the stimming, screaming kid in the bleachers), you'll love him even more. And that's what awareness is about.

In nursing school, we learned the stages of grief- DABDA. (Well, that's how I memorized it for tests anyways). Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They work the same whether you didn't study and failed a test- (I 'm not going to fail this test, Crap I failed this  &*%$! test, Maybe she'll let me retake it for extra points, Now I'm going to fail this class, Oh well I guess I'll study better next time) or whether you have a child diagnosed with autism (I'm over-reacting he'll be fine, God why did you do this to my son, Maybe I'll pay for ridiculous amounts of therapy and it will go away, I'll never be able to have a life that doesn't include crappy pants again, I have a beautiful happy healthy son who I am proud of no matter what.) It's so true. But it's not like they're always in that perfect, neat order. Somedays, I find myself angry, and somedays I find myself in acceptance.

So I use this blog of awareness as my crutch. I hope you don't mind. When we are having a rough moment in the park, or the front of church, and I can feel a thousand sets of staring eyes come upon me, I think, "maybe they read the blog..." and I hope that they understand. Every one of the 737 blog hits last month were like fist pumps in the park, or the church pew, or the grocery store line, or the soccer bleachers.

 It takes a village to raise a child. African proverb

 Thanks for being part of our village.
 And happy Autism Awareness Month!



"Kids with autism are actually geniuses, you know. I saw it on 60 minutes."
#thingsIhearsixtimesaweek
Well, he doesn't play the piano like Beethoven or do math like Einstein.
The boy likes cars.
Future NASCAR driver? We'll have to wait and see.


As a sort-of Autism Awareness post-script, I want to mention: If you know of anyone who's child is not meeting the typical developmental milestones, and they are concerned, don't blow them off.  If I had a dollar for every time a well-meaning, kind-hearted person told me, "Oh, he'll talk someday and then you will wish he had never started!" Um, no. While many kids who start out with a language delay can catch up, there are many who don't. There are resources out there, like the Tiny-K program, for kids who are even just a little bit behind. It takes a strong parent to realize there may be something wrong with their child, and to do something about it while they have plenty of time.


Picture this

Picture this:
3 kids in the car with Mom and everyone has to pee.
If you get out at a fast food joint, inevitably it is assumed to be supper time, regardless of the actual time of day. You leave $25 poorer than you were before everyone had to pee.
If you stop at a gas station you have to strategically maneuver past the pop and orange candy slices and pray there are no venereal diseases lurking on the toilet seats.
So anyways, pick your poison and stop the car for twenty minutes of torture.
Although we've really outgrown the likes of the small stall, if one wants to urinate in the big stall they must keep one hand on Waylon at all times and complete all other business with the other. One slip of the hand and he's got the latch open and he's headed for the orange slices. And you've got your pants down.
On rare occasions (okay, it only happened once, last Monday) you'll hear a cute little girl say "Mom I think there's a camera in the toilet" and you turn to see that alas, your phone slipped from your coat pocket during the pee rodeo and it's now sitting in three different sources of urine at the bottom of the basin.
But don't forget to keep a hand on The Wanderer at all times, even during phone retrieval, or he'll be at the orange slices and you'll still have a phone in the toilet.
Add to the equation his fear of automatic hand dryers, and you get to hear shrill screams and wince as he plugs his ears with germ infested hands every time an innocent bystander tries to dry their hands. Or during the entire time you're trying to dry the pee off your cell phone.
Get everyone back in the car and start passing the hand sanitizer. Drive to the cell phone store as fast as you can.
The end.