School Photo Day

I walked James in to school this morning, across the ghostly-white, foggy playground, to meet his aide. All around me were other parents, hustling their kids along too. Many of the boys sported hair that was precisely cut, combed, and gelled back (or up in a mock Mohawk), as well as crisp polos or button up shirts. Yes, school Photo Day was upon us once again.

Oops.

I completely spaced Picture Day -- thank goodness they had signs up announcing it at his school this week or I'd have really been unpleasantly surprised. I've not been feeling well this week. James hates having his hair washed and he screams like a banshee and thrashes when I try to cut it; so with me feeling unwell, I left his hair alone, lest I give him a horrible hatchet job in my hazy state of mind. Yesterday we were at a doctor's appointment after school, 65 miles away. After 45 minutes of working with a physical therapist we drove 65 miles back in traffic, which means we were both a bit dragging this today. He does not do crisp shirts and he did not want buttons this morning (so no polo top).

Even better, I could not find his order slip and I had to leave directly and drop off his sister at her school and do the weekly grocery run. Could my preparation have been more pathetic? Luckily, I had my checkbook in my purse, so I could do my two errands before swinging by James' school on the way back home. The nice ladies in the office showed me where the extra Picture Order Forms were and called his classroom to make sure they were still waiting to take the photos (they were).

I walked slowly back to James' classroom (I've also tweaked my hip and knee - fun times!) and peeked in the door. There was James, sitting calmly in a semicircle reading group, in front of his teacher and reading! Why am I excited? It was just so NORMAL! His teacher warmly welcomed me into the room, thanked me graciously for his order form and check, and asked James to take a turn and read for me. He was flustered, but complied. I was so proud. Especially when a reading buddy joined in, read a wrong word, and he gently corrected her.

Beam, beam, beam.

Okay, James: I am over the lack of styled hair and dress shirts. Sometimes what you can't see in a class photo can make your day for years to come.

Love Always, Your Mom

Special Exposure / Wordless Weds: Floortime For 2

This was the scene I walked in on, one morning last weekend:

And here's some of the conversation:
James: "Look! I made Rudolph!"
Big Sis: "No, you made the sun"
James: "Ohhhhh. Let's make some more!"
Big Sis:" Okay, let's make a 2!"

They kept it up for over half an hour. I sat down around the corner in the next room, grinning and enjoying the moment as I listened in.

For more great images or to join in the fun, Visit Special Exposure Wednesday at 5 Minutes for Special Needs.
and ... Wordless Wednesday

How Sweet It Is!

This boy is reading!!!

Combs and New Discoveries

I read about some exciting research that came from the MIND Institute that two distinctly different types of biological Autsim have been studied and confirmed. I find this both fascinating and exciting, because it confirms some of my experiences with James and gives me hope for the future.

How many of you have heard the phrase "You've seen one person with Autism .... and you've seen one person with Autism"?

 *Raises hand*

It's felt so true to me. Especially from the days when I first started to really admit to myself that something was not right with James' development. Everyone had their opinion as to "was he ok / was there something wrong," with many people of the former opinion than the latter. Right up to his pediatrician who told me "He can't be Autistic - he looks you in the eye."

I could see their point, and still can. James, while exhibiting some classic Autistic traits, has always loved people and openly shown it.

Even during the scary period of time when he'd "zen" out and stare off into space, not responding to his name or a hand waved in front of his face (and we became scared that he might be having mini seizures) he'd gravitate to a group of people hanging out and socializing. He loved playgrounds and never retaliated with force or biting when some of the kids played roughly in the sand box or rocking animals. He had gorgeous, enormous blue eyes and he'd smile so sweetly at you he'd melt every heart in a 25-foot radius.

And yet ... I felt a lack of connection with him. He was spookily calm, and made noises like a squawking parrot rather than a toddler to communicate. His fingers and wrists splayed at odd angles, almost frozen. He could hear a pin drop from halfway across the house, loved music, and his big sister. He did not line up his toys, yet he did repetitive motions and loved to spin things.

At the CAD Clinic, it was informally thought that James would test at Pervasive Developmental Disorder-Not Otherwise Specified (PPD-NOS), but in fact he tested with more severe needs as Autistic Spectrum Disorder (ASD). One of the clinicians explained the findings as James having both strong strengths and weaknesses, with the former being the teeth of a comb and the latter the comb's gaps. In some places the teeth (strengths) had no gaps, in other areas, some teeth (strengths) were missing, forming bigger gaps.

I like the comb analogy. Do you know how many different types of combs you can find at a store?  Think of all the combs you've had -- many different types, yes?

Now just think if further research enables us to identify and categorize Autism as we now can tell the difference between a pocket comb, a pick, a flat-top styler ... and then builds therapies that match them and helps those on the Spectrum to led lives that are as happy, productive, and independent as possible. Oh, yes, I am getting excited all over again. I think this is on the right track.

Magic Marker Monday: Magic Hands

One of the things I love about kids is watching how they interact with their world and use everyday objects uncommonly. As James grows and becomes more engaged, I take special delight in watching him play spontaneously.

Like the visit to our Town Green, where he played with the water in the water fountain in a new way. James started his relationship with these enormous structures years back by falling in the water (poor coordination). That did not deter him from coming back to try sticking his hands into the water and trying to walk along the bottom (which as a good parent I try to discourage).

Last year he moved on to throwing handfuls of gravel into the water the moment I wasn't looking. We took a break until he could control himself better. Then he ran races along the top of the expansive walls and mastered stepping across the intermittent steps from one side of the fountains to another. Hooray for advances in foot-eye coordination and balance! He started to pick fallen leaves out of the water and tossing them back in. Definitely better than gravel, so I usually let this pass. The look on his face as he sends one over the "waterfall"? Priceless.

This Summer, James started noticing that he could "paint" with his wet hands. I helped him write his name, and he had fun making prints with his hands. Pure magic for about 10 minutes!

For more great masterpieces or to share some of your own, visit 5 Minutes for Special Needs for more Magic Marker Monday.

Growing Pain

Oh my heart. Look at this photo from last September (ignore the evil flash):

James, playing with hat and stickers

See those pant cuffs? How they are almost under his feet?  I tried to see if he could still wear these pants in early August, less than a year later. He could not even get them on. In less than a year he went from a size 5/6x to size 8-10. We are so lucky to have older cousins who give us hand-me-downs!

I miss my baby, but thank goodness you can't take the goofy out of my guy. That's still going strong.

James, playing with Photo Booth on his Nana's iMac

Farmers' Market Sunday

Our town has a lively little Farmers' Market that I've come to love. During the summer it's held twice weekly, but we've made the longer-running Sunday morning one Our Market.

First, I really like Farmers' Markets. They recall random times of picking up fruit fresh from the fields and orchards of the Bay Area when I was a kid. Thanks to my Mom, these seemed more like fun excursions than a chore. Also, I learned to chose my foods differently when I lived in France over the course of 2 years in my 20s. The marketing & cooking mentality shift from weekly Albertson's to as-needed les marchés en plein air excursions was profound. In a good way. And it's nice for me to be able to bring good things from my past life into my current one with children of my own, including one on the spectrum, which has thrown us into a parallel universe, so to speak.

For several years, I was desperate to find things to do with James, my early riser. Usually that meant getting him out of the house, as he wakes ready to go and does not do voice modulation well. Our house does not do sound prevention well, either - quel désastre! So then I stumbled on the Farmers' Market.  Our markets don't start early, but if we first went out for a drive (with coffee!) or playground trip, finishing with the market made a great icing on the cake.

I love being out among people, seeing fresh produce, and smelling good things. James loves the people and the music, because the local Farmers' Markets have live musicians. This summer, I made more of a push to have this be a weekly event for the kids and I. We do enjoy it so.

The bread lady, as we call her, knows us well. She and my daughter share a name, which is a common one with an uncommon pronunciation, which gives them both a thrill. Some day, I promise myself I will indulge in the roasted peppers - mmmm!!! We get ideas for jewelry, crafts, and cooking just by strolling past the stalls. We see people we know and socialize. My daughter pets as many dogs as she can. Both kids love to play in the town's water fountain. I look at all the colours and shapes of the flowers and plants, and think back to when I had time to paint and draw them. For now, I capture them on film.

   

James loves the fresh sour dough ficelles and the music. Over the course of the summer, I have successfully gotten him to watch and admire the musicians from a discrete distance. Before, he'd go right up to them and talk, sometimes touching their arms or instruments while they were playing. Good heavens, he was quick to nip in and do that! Fortunately, they were very good-natured and did not get upset. Now when I remind James that he can watch near the chairs or the walkway walls, he says "okay" and remembers to do it. The trombone still delights him from across the Green, though, and makes him dance whenever he hears it.

The Farmers' Market stays in my mind for days after the event, as we use up the good food that we have bought, in dinners and school lunches. I only wish it lasted throughout the year.

You'll never know who you'll see at the local Farmers' Market!