To poop or not to poop.....

   As a special needs momma I have heard a lot of talk of poop problems. Thankfully, we don't have too much of an issue with that here. Or so I thought.... Up until now, our biggest issue is that Liam has IBS which means he is either constipated or has diarrhea. (We did go through a phase where he would hide when he had to go. He was about 5 or so when this took place. He would hide because he didn't want to stop playing to go poop. It was about 6 months before he stopped doing that and we were back to "normal." Our "normal.")

   We then went through an, "I don't know if I have to go or not" phase. Where he would scream and cry because he couldn't tell if he had to go, or just had gas. We are still partially in this phase as it rears it's ugly head at least once a week. How do you explain to your autistic child when they have to poop??? I mean, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. I have no words for that. It's a feeling. To me, it's indescribable.

   Now we have a new phase mingling with that, which is, he doesn't want to poop. Yes, you read that right. So now, when he can tell he has to go, he SCREAMS. He cries. He tells us, "I don't like the way it feels." Does it hurt? Nope. "It  feels gross," he says. So either, he can't tell that he has to go, or he can, and doesn't like how it feels.

   So I wonder, how as a parent I can help him through this. I mean, I know it's sensory.  DUH, that's a given. But how in God's name do I make this okay for him???? It's pooping. It's a natural part of life. He HAS to poop. How do I make this easier on him????

           "I wish I could stop eating so my body would stop                                                              pooping!"

   The worst part of being a parent is when there is something ailing or bothering your child, and you as his/her parent can't fix it. That's our job. They look to us for guidance and help, and when we can't give it then what?

   I am at a loss so any advice here is appreciated and welcomed. PLEASE, help me, help this kid poop.

     (Oh, and he still doesn't wipe himself. He will try once in awhile with A LOT of prompting and begging. It's a germ thing. He can't stand the thought of wiping his own arse. We pray this ends soon because I can't be wiping a 30 year old man's butt!) So any advice there is also appreciated! (btw, we have tried wet wipes, bribing, begging, sticker charts, making him sit there and refusing to wipe it. That was fun. He sat there and screamed til he was hoarse and I ended up wiping him any way. Iron will in this kid!)

Our Christmas Story

                                                              REAL OR FAKE?????

 Well if you must know, they are REAL, all me baby!!! Oh wait, I was talking about trees, not my boobs! Sadly our tree is fake. She's a cutie though. However, I would be lying if I said I didn't long for a REAL Christmas tree.

 The scent of pine. The needles in the carpet (hey the fake tree sheds too, and they are a b!tch to vacuum up too!) The excitement when you find the good luck bird's nest in the branches. Hoping you don't find a squirrel ;) (Come on, that made for some funny movie memories in Natl' Lampoons!)



 More over, what I miss is the family time, and the memories we made. We would bundle up. Complete with scarves wrapped around our heads and covering our mouths. (ok, that part I hated. Something about slobbery yarn covering my face still makes me gag. MOUTH BREATHER!)

 We would be bundled head to toe (except the one year it was so warm, we went wearing shorts, damn Mother Nature!) and head to to the tree farm. We didn't sing Christmas Carols though.... We sang along to the radio. So at that time it was Madonna, Tears for Fears, Phil Collins... You 80's babies know what I am talking about ;)

 Once at the tree farm, we walked for what seemed like miles!!!! The snow was always deep because it drifted up around the trees. Daddy would NEVER choose a pre cut tree. That would be too easy!!! Actually, in his words, "pre cut lose their needles too fast. WE need a FRESH one!" And so we did.

 Then came the dysfunction, which of course would escalate as the day wore on. Dad wants this one. Sissy wants this one. Bug (that was my nickname) wants this one. Mom agrees with dad because they were so in love, they just did that. Vice Versa if mom saw one she liked first, Dad would agree with her. The dilemma! Which to choose. Dad would come and look each tree over. It was like a modeling contest for fir trees! He got to make the final call. Then it was cuttin' time!!!

 We ALWAYS argued over whose turn it was to saw the tree. I don't understand why we did that, now. We NEVER cut the whole damn thing down! We would make a few passes, and then whine it was too hard. Daddy would then take over. He would sometimes give it back to us at the end, and let one of us make the final cuts that would knock our tree loose from the stump.

 Time to drag this damn thing to the car. Now that we are in Timbuktu, we must get this bugger back to the car! There was a LOT of whining about  this part. I won't lie, mainly from ME!!! Then my sister would be yammering, "SHUT UP Courtney! You're such a WUSS!!!! MOM!!!! Tell her to STOP!" Ahhh, I remember it like it was yesterday ;)

 Once there, came the task of getting that bad boy onto the roof and tying it down. In those days, we didn't pay the extra to get it baled. Times were tough. So we fought amongst sticky branches, and pokey needles to get it tied down to the car. Well, mostly dad and mom. By this point the whiny kids (US) were put in the car to zip lips.

 Now we had to freeze driving home because we couldn't ROLL (yep, roll, no electric windows for us!) our windows up, due to the tree ropes running through them. Once there, it was time to drag that bad boy into the house, and get it into the stand. Mom and dad at this point would get it set up. Maybe argue a bit over how straight it was, then get the lights on.



 Sissy and I were now thawed out, and we knew to steer clear of the stringing of the lights. You see, this was the part that sent our calm and collected father over the edge. Matter of fact, if you heard, "You dirty rotten....." You RAN!!!! The slew of cuss words that followed would make a sailor blush! NO KIDDING!!!




 Once that was said and done, we became a picture perfect family. The Christmas music came on. The decorating began. Now, with every ornament we took turns talking about the memory behind it. You see, many people do their tree in colors or themes. Not us. We trim our tree in memories. EVERY ornament has a story. Every ornament a memory.

 This is the tradition I will NEVER forget. We still do this with Liam. We each put on our special ornaments. I tell Liam who got him what, and how old he was. Or how old he was when he made certain ones with me. I then put on the ones from my childhood, and we talk about my memories attached to each one.

 Our tree is a story. A memory. Our lives. And that my friends, is one of the BEST parts of Christmas <3

 Now that I think of it, it doesn't matter if our tree is real or fake. We still make wonderful memories with it. And we still enjoy the time together, trimming our tree. (there is just less freezing and bickering involved) :P

For your enjoyment, I give you, THE 12 PAINS OF CHRISTMAS LEGO style :)

                                                       
                                                                        <3 <3 <3 <3

This is Autism....

For those that may not know:

 Last Monday, Autism Speaks told the world that autism is:

 . . . living in despair

 . . . fear of the future

 . . .exhausted, broken parents

. . . lost, helpless, burdensome children

. . .  a national emergency




  


   WHAT???? 
   
    That isn't 

    what Autism

     is to us?

     THIS is Autism, 

          OUR Autism:





 This is Liam. He is autistic. He isn't a burden. He isn't a tragedy. In fact, he is the OPPOSITE! Liam is a miracle! He is the baby I was told I would never have, and yet here he is.

 He is happy. He makes us all happy. He is loving. He is smart. He is kind. He is caring. I could list things all day of what he IS, and NONE of them are what Autism Speaks says he is.

 To know my son is to love him. I am guessing the folks at Autism Speaks don't really KNOW autistic individuals because if they did, they wouldn't have said such atrocities about my son and his peers.

 I won't sit here, and act like our life is all peaches and cream, because it isn't. Just like all other people living their lives, we too have rough days. Liam tries his hardest to overcome any and all obstacles that being autistic presents him. He's NOT lost, burdensome, or helpless. He's a fighter. Look out world, because he will take you by storm!

 We don't live in "despair." We live in HAPPINESS! Our lives are greater BECAUSE of Liam. He is our life and we wouldn't have it any other way. 

 So, Autism Speaks, you lost a family that supported you. A family that thought you supported us. Do you even really care about our kids? Or do you care more about the money they raise for you in their names?

Christmas Creeper

  I love Christmas A LOT! I annoy the crap out of PITA with my Christmas cheer, my carols, and my baking. Well, maybe not the baking so much, because he enjoys sampling that. Liam also loves Christmas. Maybe even more than I do. So in the spirit, he is already watching holiday movies, and downloading apps on my phone. One in particular made me nervous, angry and sad at the same time....

pic courtesy of iTunes app: Sleeps to Christmas Lite

                                                                     
   47 SLEEPS TO 
CHRISTMAS. ARE
   YOU FREAKIN'
  KIDDING ME???






 Now I am freaking out!  Liam keeps showing me this countdown. The "Christmas Creeper" as I call it! What are we going to do???  Not long ago I blogged out the realization of just how broke we are, (If ya missed that, and wanna know, check it out here.) and Christmas just keeps creeping up on us! 

 Some suggested local churches. Well, around here, one church gets the others together and they sponsor families. Not this year. Everyone has it rough and they told us they can't help us. A slap of reality in the face when you count on that for your child's Christmas. (I know, never count on anything, but what else are we to do. And I am not upset with them, I get it, I do.)

 

I have extra to spare... 

So now what? I have offered to sell my body for extra money, but no one wants any of this shiz.....



 I really am freaking out. I am hiding behind humor because frankly, that is how I get by.  But, every day my son works on his Amazon wish list. Adding, adding, obsessing, and adding some more. Last year he was at odds with the idea of Santa, and though I don't lie to my child, I did. I didn't want to lose the magic, not yet. 

 What now? How do I tell him Santa can't come this year? He has already sent his list to him via his "Magic Mailbox." I over heard him telling my mother last night, "Santa came last night Nana. He took my list, and he kissed me on the forehead. I can't wait til Christmas morning!"

 The only thing I can figure is letting some bills go, because I won't see my child sad on Christmas morning. I know it's not about the gifts. I know it's about family, and friends, and being together. But try telling that to a 7 year old. An autistic one at that.... So, if you don't hear from me in January... it's because I didn't pay for the internet... Have no fear, we will survive..... Well, they will, I may not :P

                                                                     <3 <3 <3 <3

Words I don't want to hear

 "Age Appropriate" and "High Functioning." The next person that utters those words to me, may very well walk away with 5 across the eyes. I am serious!!!!

 What is age appropriate? Is that what people use to classify NT kids? I ask because my son has NEVER been age appropriate. In good ways, and in "bad".

 He hit most of his milestones early to be honest. Beyond that though, emotionally he has never behaved "age appropriate." He still to this day puts everything in his damn mouth. Not to taste it, but to feel it. I can NOT believe he hasn't choked on something or swallowed a penny or some shit. (*knocking on wood here*) He is super emotional. More so than "typical" kids his age I know. He is dangerous in that he has no clue as to personal safety. He has NO CLUE as to personal awareness, and walks on everyone, pushes into everything, and is basically like a bull in a china closet.  That is fine with me, I can handle that. We have grown together and we have learned to adapt.

 What I can't handle however, is thinking I have a 7 and a half year old child that I can trust be alone for even 5 minutes. I just can't leave him in a room alone, and expect to come back and find everything okay. I CAN'T.... Sometimes even I forget this....

 Just this morning, I was in the kitchen, de-fatting a roast for dinner. Liam was in the other room. I could see and hear him. However, because I was using a super sharp knife, my spidey senses were focused on that. When I set the knife down (after a mere 5 MINUTES)




 I look up to find Liam standing on the BACK of a chair. Sharp, broken cap gun in hand, and teetering dangerously as he was reaching for a knick knack on the high shelf.




 I snatched him up and I yelled. I won't lie. I YELLED. Probably ALL of my neighbors heard me. He scared the living shit out of me. (Seriously, Pita and I can't believe he hasn't broken or severely maimed himself in his short 7 years. He is that dangerous in regards to himself.)

 I know what you're probably thinking...... YES, I know it's my fault. I often forget that my son isn't "typical." I forget that unlike NT children I can't just let him be for a few minutes without my eagle eye. Many people have called me a helicopter mother, and you know what, I OWN THAT SHIT! This is the reason he is still alive. Christ if it weren't for my eagle eye, God only knows what would have happened to him by now.

 Even with my hovering parenting style, I have been trying to loosen the motherly leash and let him be a boy. So many keep telling me, "he needs to be a boy." Just when I loosen that grip, he does something like this that slaps reality in my face. He ISN'T just a "boy" he is an AUTISTIC BOY. Therefore, what is right for your NT boy is NOT right for my autistic one, so BACK OFF!!!!

 I have also been told, "You're so lucky he's higher functioning. It must be much easier." That frosts my ass too. I really dislike the labels of high/low functioning. All of our kids struggle with things in their own way. What may be easy for my kid, may be hard for yours, and vice versa. Besides, it's not a competition. (and for the record, my child is only labeled higher functioning educationally, NOT clinically.) So stop saying that shit!!!! Your kid is your kid, and my kid is mine. If I ask you for advice, by all means, give it. But STOP saying offensive shit.

                     Stop comparing our kids!!!

 Also, I am going to continue hovering because if I don't my child may break his neck and then whose fault would that be????? I'm gonna say you, because you told me to loosen my grip!!  (Just kidding) MAYBE....
                     
                                                                    <3 <3 <3 <3

I'm NOT Perfect....

per·fect  (pûrfkt)

adj.

1. Lacking nothing essential to the whole; complete of its nature or kind.

2. Being without defect or blemish: a perfect specimen.

3. Thoroughly skilled or talented in a certain field or area; proficient.

4. Completely suited for a particular purpose or situation.

Above is the definition of perfect.... so what is perfect? Am I? HELL NO! Is my life??? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.... And yet, I go on. I smile, and I trudge through the shit that flows my way. I don't sit behind my computer and whine. I don't sit on my high horse and tear others down. I pull up my big girl panties, and I friggin' deal. Don't most of us?????

You can't read that above definition and tell me YOUR life is perfect. Or that YOU are perfect, because NEWS FLASH, NONE OF US ARE PERFECT. We are all flawed in some way, our own way. Now own it! You are who you are.

In owning it, here are the ways I am NOT perfect: I am over weight. I am bitchy. I am sick and I am tired. I am often miserable. I have numerous health problems that have become too many to list. I am a good mom, but by no means perfect. There are days I can't get out of my chair to play with Liam and it rips my heart out. BUT, I try. I put a smile on my face. I ignore all the reasons I am not perfect, and I move on. 

My marriage??? Wow! So far from perfect it's scary. We deal. Simple as that. We took vows to one another and stick by them. We have had so many downs in our life, it's a wonder we are still together. But we are. We could have both thrown in the towel so many times, and yet we didn't. We become stronger. For us, for Liam. 

My life? We are broke. When I say broke, I mean BROKE! We are so far BELOW poverty limit, the people at Social Services ask us how we pay our bills. SERIOUSLY!!!! Well, thanks to family, we get by. Our bills are paid, but always late. We rob Peter to pay Paul and there is no room for extra. I can't even think about how we are going to pull Christmas off without breaking down into tears.

You know what else, we get food stamps. We are one of those families that has to have them or my child would starve. My husband has been unemployed due to work injuries since Liam was an infant. He has been fighting for disability since then. He has lost every time. Every doctor, and every surgeon he has seen can't believe the courts are fighting their signed affidavits that say he is disabled in every sense of the term. And yet we fight. Per our social workers request from the state, we filed for Liam. We were told because he is autistic and can't even attend regular school he would NOT be turned down. Guess what??? He was. Not once, but twice! So we are still fighting for that. Mean while there are people out there milking the system. They get disability when they can most certainly work. They get it for their kids with lesser diagnoses than my son, and their kids attend school. Why the hell is everything in our life so damn hard? My doctor has asked me when I will file because my list of illnesses is a mile long and I can't work either. I haven't yet. I can't be let down by the system again, I can't.

Something else you don't know about me? I am one of those people with food stamps that has an iPhone. I don't flaunt it. Matter of fact, I won't use it in the grocery store because I don't want people giving me nasty looks because I am on welfare and have a smart phone. I wouldn't have that phone if it weren't for my inlaws. They bought us the phone, and they added us to their plan. They pay the monthly fees, and we give them our recyclables and my parents to try and offset the cost. Do you know how bad it hurts when I see those comments about people who can't feed their kids and have a phone. It hurts like hell.

So you see, when you are down on your ass, and feeling sorry for yourself, you're not the only one. Look around. Some have it worse than you. Instead of lolling in your pity, stand up and move on. Such is life. It sucks. It's hard. It's not all sunshine and rainbows. But it is what you make of it.

I could fill a book with all of the shitty things that have happened in our lives in the past 9 years. People would be amazed that A) Pita and I haven't killed anyone yet, and B) Pita and I are still married. I could also sit here every day in my pain and be a rotten bitch to the world, but do I?  No. Because I CHOOSE not too. What good does that do me? Or anyone else for that matter? 

Life isn't a competition. It's life. If you ooze unhappiness, the people around you will be miserable too. Have enough compassion for the rest of the world to not be that asshole. Put a smile on your face, suck it up and TRY to be happy. 

                     

                                                               

                                                                    <3 <3 <3 <3

Perspective

  Yesterday afternoon was off to a rough start. Liam was rotten for me during lessons. His new punishment is a writing assignment. 1) because he REALLY needs to work on his handwriting, and getting him to write is like pulling teeth. 2) because he hates it, and I'm sorry, but time outs, and groundings don't work. Had to try something new.

  So when he has been exceptionally rotten, he has to write. We start off with 5 short sentences, and if he persists, then it goes up by 5 each time. So I waited til Mr. M (TSS) got here to make him do it. I KNEW it was going to be a fight. It wasn't long, and I raised it to 10 sentences. He was screaming at me, kicking my chair and refusing to do it. So there son, now you have to do more!

  It turned into a pretty nasty meltdown. It was a tantrum at first. He was pissed. He didn't want to waste his "Mr. M time doing stupid writing." It quickly spun out of control and into a meltdown. He was screaming at me and telling me, "I SUCK! I CAN'T DO IT! MY WRITING IS HORRIBLE!" (he over heard me telling his new school I wanted an OT eval for him because his writing is not where it should be :/ ) He ended up hiding under my desk and insisting Mr. M leave the room. Odd, because he LOVES M. You see, the older Liam gets the more aware of his feelings he is. He was embarrassed.  He told me later he didn't want Mr. M seeing him "so mad and so sad." Once M complied (and I felt terrible for him) Liam dried his tears, rocked a bit and banged out his writing. I even offered to knock two off for him being such a trooper. His rule abiding reply??? "No momma, you said 10 and I was bad, so I will do 10."

  My plan was to let him paint pumpkins. As you know, being an autism momma is also about recognizing triggers for our kiddos. I knew that his self esteem at the moment was low and that letting him paint pumpkins may make that worse. He is such a perfectionist. Instead I decided to let him carve one. He grew 14, we have plenty to spare! He has a special kid safe knife (thank you pampered chef) that won't cut him, and he LOVES to be let loose on unsuspecting pumpkins.

  Now, I usually draw the face on, and then let him carve it. He tells me how he wants it to look and I draw it. This year, I figured I would just let him do as he wanted to it. It would be 100% Liam. We cleaned it out, and he was off......

This is what he carved....

Now, he stepped back and looked. I could see the disdain in his little face. "Momma. I suck! I ruined it!" Oh good God, here we go again. Thank God, my brain thought quickly for a change. "No, no Liam. You didn't ruin it!" "Yes I did momma. Look at the big hole!" "Liam, you see a big hole, I see a place to put the light without me having to reach inside it. Yuck!" He smiled wide! "You're right momma!" (Yep, ALWAYS,  just ask you're dad!) 

He was happy with that, and was ready to move on with more carving. So, I  asked him if he wanted a face on it. He did. I drew what he asked. He carved the eyes, nose and part of the mouth, then asked me to take over because his hands were tired. Those  pumpkins are thick little suckers!

Liam's pumpkin :)

When he was all done, I did the redneck thing that pita always does with the pumpkins. I jammed in a solar light. So much safer than candles, and I don't have to remember to go out and light it every night. When Liam saw it with the solar light, he was very pleased with his huge hole. He later told me "Yeah momma. I carved that big hole for a reason." ;) 

 So, carving pumpkins turned out to be a great lesson for Liam on perspective. He learned that there isn't only one way to see something. That there is always a bright side.

redneck pumpkin lighting ;)

<3 <3 <3 <3

Feelings.....

  This post came to me last night. Of course after 2 hours of tossing and turning, I was finally comfortable, when my brain decides to put lucid thoughts together. Story of my life! Anyway, I was pondering the days events, and still giggling to myself over Liam's writing assignment. I was also thinking about the irony of it all.

  You see, my son is verbal. VERY verbal. Dare I say, sometimes TOO verbal (or too honest, we haven't decided yet.) So, we often get, "You're so lucky he is verbal." or "He can talk, that is such a blessing!"  Yes, it is. We know it is, and we are very thankful. However, what many don't realize is that, just because he is verbal, doesn't mean he is expressive. (I have blogged on this before, to read it, CLICK HERE)

  Yes, he tells us he loves us, prompted and unprompted. He has conversations with us. Mainly about his current obsession. (Beyblades ATM) He tells us what he wants, and what he doesn't, (all too often) and he is VERY opinionated. BUT...... he has a hard time speaking about other things. If he is very upset, or even very excited, he also stutters, something terrible, and it takes him so long to get out what he needs to say, so he often gives up.

  If Liam is sick, and you ask him what's wrong he can't tell you. (For two reasons. One, he has a super hero sized high pain threshold, and two, because he can't find the words to tell you what ails him.) His ear drums have perforated before we knew he had an ear infection. (Yeah, parents of the year here!) I take him to the Dr. and they go through the list of questions, and there Liam sits with a blank look because he can't tell them what he feels. (Thankfully his new Ped totally gets this, and directs the questions in different manners to try and evoke replies.)

  When Liam is upset, he also can't tell you. He does one of two things. If he is really mad, he flips out. He screams, and cries, hits the walls, and bangs his head. Then he calms himself by rocking and humming. If he is upset because someone has hurt his feelings, he keeps it in. Don't get me wrong, he is a superb tattle tail if a kid is breaking the rules, but when someone bullies him (which happens all too often) he keeps the feelings in. He tells us it happens, but can't tell you much more than facts.

  Each time it does happen, pita and I will sit with him afterward and try to talk to him about it. We ask him things like, "Are you okay? How did that make you feel? What did you say? What could you have said?" and so on. We try like hell to get him to express how it makes him feel and he can't. (aside from having a meltdown over it) You see, a child can be horribly cruel to Liam one day, and the next day, if said child comes back, Liam calls him his buddy and is ready to play with him. Liam doesn't hold grudges. He doesn't become jaded. I love that about him, I really do! However,  it bothers me that he doesn't learn from it. When said child bullies again, we go through this whole process over. Sometimes, more than 4 times a week. (we really live in a shitty area!)

  So anyway, getting him to express how this makes him feel is nearly impossible. Now, this year in school he is having to do short weekly writing assignments. I love this. At first, it was hell, as he fought me so hard, but now, he knows he HAS to do it. He also knows that per his teacher and 504, he can dictate to me, and I can write it. So he is cool with that. It is making him reach inside, and think and express himself in different ways. It is also giving us insight into what goes on his head. Case in point.....

This assignment was the precursor to the actual composition. Liam was to think of 6 animals he would like to be and why. His answers saddened, and shocked us....

He took a simple writing assignment and gave it feeling, his feelings. (a bit to much for this momma as it made me bawl behind a closed bathroom door.) The insight that he has at 7 amazes us. The way he was able to express himself, without realizing it was just awesome! Can you tell Liam is bullied quite a bit? (and sadly, he is bullied at home by neighbor kids, as we home school!)

Now, the next day, he was directed to choose one of these animals and expand upon why he would want to be that animal, and "write" a composition of at least 4 sentences.  This is what he had to say....

Again, this is ALL him. His words,  his thoughts. I was merely writing what he told me, exactly as he told me. I laughed and I cried over this one. I could still see the feelings of being bullied, but then he also added some facts he knows to be true about dogs. Liam is a VERY fact based child. He has a brain like a steel trap. It holds facts for future use (much like momma's but even better!)

His father and I are so in love with this assignment. We love the honesty, and comedic value to it. More than that, we love how he was able to reach inside, and pull out some of his feelings. He may or may not have realized he was doing this. When I hugged him and told him how much I loved it, he was quite aloof about the whole thing. No matter, he expressed himself. This has been a long time coming. We pray, this is the beginning of  a new phase, and that he is finally learning how to get his feelings out. Even if he can't tell us. Even if he has to write them down. The fact that he can recognize or just pull them out, is awesome. With puberty around the corner, this will be a huge help to him and to us!

<3 <3 <3 <3

Walking on Sunshine my Ass!

  Whoever wrote that song Walking on Sunshine (credit for that goes to Kimberley Rew) is full of shit! I am a super optimistic. I always look on the bright side. I am a life is great kind of person, FOR THE MOST PART.... However lately, I want to shove rainbows down people's throats. I am pessimistic, and I know it, so I am keeping to myself. Hey, I don't want to rain on everyone's parade!!!!

In case you're too young to get the song reference, here's the youtube link (blogger is being an asshat and won't post the video) (and before there are assumptions, no, my love life is fine, I just hate this chipper song right now!) http://youtu.be/iPUmE-tne5U


 Yeah, I know what you're thinking... "when life gives ya lemons...." No, I don't want to make lemonade! I want to squeeze that shit in someone's eyes, ok?!?!?! I am entitled to be a bit pessimistic once in awhile. Now is that time.

  Since I blogged last we did get great news. Liam gets to keep his TSS. WOOT WOOT! For that I am stoked and super grateful. I was told that the reason we got to keep him is he agreed to more hours, and because I had Pita call and complain. I knew Mr. M didn't want to leave and we knew Liam didn't want to lose him, so since I abhor the phone, I nagged hubs til he called ;) So that was our good news.

  Otherwise, not so much. I am so annoyed with the little shit neighbor kids that I dread hearing that damn school bus go through every day. Literally, my throat starts to burn, and my heart starts to race. When I found out last night that there was no school for them today, I immediately became sick to my stomch. Yes, it's that bad! Liam is constantly coming inside and constantly crying because of the things these kids are saying and doing to him. IN MY YARD!!

  "Keep Liam inside," I have been told. Well, smart ass, don't ya think if it were that easy I would??? Yes, I am his mom. Yes, I am supposed to be in charge, but he is 7 with a very outspoken mind, and he NEEDS to be able to go outside for fresh air and to exert his energies. Also, I don't think it's fair to have to keep my child inside just because other people can't make their child mind!

  Before the sanctimommies jump my shiz, listen up! I am not perfect. Nor do I EVER claim to be. Special needs child or not, if my child is being an asshat, you bet your ass, I will be the first to call him out, and reprimand him. I expect that from other parents. I am tired of being a parent to all of these other children. It isn't my job to watch your kids. If you are told your child is bullying someone, anyone, then you need to stand up and do something about. Just telling said child not to do that, obviously isn't working. Do something more. Try grounding your kid. Try leaving your house and making sure Johnny isn't being a jerk to kids and adults alike.

  Also, while I am letting all this out. When you have been told about these events TIME, and TIME AGAIN, and you do nothing, you look like an ass. Even more so when you are told that authorities are going to be stepping in and then you choose to become all self righteous and vindicate your child of any wrong doing. Do you forget how long we have known each other????? YEARS...... need I say more?????

  For the people who are reading this and know this neighborhood, don't ask me whom I am speaking of. There is more than one child this is in regards too. Because said children are minors, and because I am still a decent person, I will NOT divulge which children and parents I am speaking of. I know small towns. I have lived in them my whole life. I also know that everyone likes to think they know what or whom you are talking about when they really have no clue.

   Bottom line.... This is a warning for ALL parents, and kids that live in my vicinity. I am done. No more Mrs. Nice Chick. (was I ever that? I'm not sure) No more warnings. Liam has been telling his therapists about all the events that go on here. Our next step is authorities. So, if you haven't stepped up and put a stop to your kid bullying mine, now might be a good time to do that. If you don't, it may be you who gets lemon juice in your eyes, a rainbow down your throat, and a huge "I told you so" when the authorities come a knockin'!

Tired of fighting

  Once again, just when things seem to be going well, and all is seeming to be right with the world, the proverbial rug is pulled from under our feet. It's sucks. It sucks bad! It's easier to ignore it and pretend it isn't going to happen. But I can't. I can't sit back and act like it won't be hell for my boy. I can't act like it won't phase him because it will.

  Why does my boy have to endure such shit? In his 7 and half years, we have been on one hell of a roller coaster ride. I know, I know. It could be much worse. I get that, I do. But dammit, for once I am going to let it hurt. I am going to admit that this sucks, so damn bad it's not even funny.

  Liam's BSC told me today that his TSS is being transferred to another client. Meaning Liam will be getting a new one. Do these places really know about Autism???? If so, don't they know how hard change is for our kids? Don't they know our kids thrive when they get paired with someone and click? My child has a disabled dad. So for him, having a male TSS that can do man things with him was a God send. The many things his dad can't do, Mr. M does. They ride bikes, go for walks, go fishing. The list goes on. Nothing against women therapists, but Liam is a man's man, and this isn't going to be easy.

  My heart aches today. Every time I look at him it breaks. This is the boy that counts down the days to Mr. M's time to come. He waits by the door like a puppy when it gets close to his arrival time on his days. If Mr. M is x amount of minutes late, Liam tells him straight away that he must stay x amount of minutes later. (he's a stickler for time!)  Liam also loves his BSC, don't get me wrong. I am thankful he isn't losing both. But I am angry as hell he has to lose Mr. M.

  We all know how hard transitions are for our kids. And yes, I know, once in "the real world" he will have to deal with transition and disappointment. I know this. But dammit, he was finally used to Mr. M and letting him see the real Liam. And now he will be leaving. Liam's BSC is going to work on a social story for him. I am thinking of ways to lessen the blow and help him cope. I got nothin.' I can already feel his pain.

 Being a parent is the most rewarding AND upsetting job ever. It's good, it's bad, it's ugly, it's beautiful.  It's so hard seeing your child hurt and not be able to take that away. It's like ripping a bandage off a hairy leg very slowly. Or what I imagine a Brazilian wax to feel like. It hurts like hell!!!!

  Hubs wants to call first thing on Monday to plead our case. I don't think it will help. They have to do what they have to do. I guess it's worth a try though. I have no issue going mama bear when it comes to my boy.  I'm not gonna lie though, sometimes I get tired of fighting. It seems that as a special needs parent, every time we turn around we are having to fight for something for our children. It sucks.....

                                                                         <3 <3 <3 <3

Lazy or numb...

  I have barely blogged in months. I can't quite decide if it's because I'm lazy or just numb. I say lazy because I am always so damn tired.  Keeping up with Liam, life, PAUSE, and the Legion has me mentally exhausted. Having a chronic illness sucks the life out you in so many ways. Too many to take the time to list. I have had to prioritize our life so much more in the past months. This means, that my blog has suffered the most because well, not that many people read it anyway. :)

  I started this blog as a way for me to vent. Apparently I was annoying people a few years ago, when I was using my facebook page (personal one) to talk about Autism. Now I could care less, but that is how this blog was born. I vent much less now. Sometimes I vent on ALFL or on RHoA if I am using my more colorful language. But the deep, heartfelt vents are few and far between lately. I think I am numb.

"My heart is broke
But I have some glue
Help me inhale
And mend it with you
We'll float around
And hang out on clouds
Then we'll come down
And have a hangover "

  I mean, of course I have a heart. Wouldn't be alive if I didn't. But I have been closing it off from the world a lot in the last six months, maybe even longer than that. I haven't been letting myself feel. I have become hard. I have become numb. Not because of anyone or any one thing, in particular. Because I am tired. I am fed up. I am afraid that if I let myself feel, I will lose it. I will lock myself in a room and I will ugly cry. Probably for days. Let's face it: "Ain't Nobody Got Time For Dat!"

"Sit in the sun
Fall asleep
Wish away
soul is cheap
Lesson learned
Wish me luck
Soothe the burn
Wake me up"

  I don't want to feel that pain. I don't want to cry. I want to keep it inside and ignore it. It has nothing to do with Liam. Or Autism. It has everything to do with myself. My constant pain and fatigue. Being broke and knowing there is not a damn thing I myself, can do about it. It's about realizing that yep, our life is hard as hell sometimes, but who am I to whine. There are people out there who have it a hell of a lot worse. We have a home. We have a family. We have love. There are people who have NONE of that. So I chose to suck it up, and keep on, keeping on.

"I'm not like them
But I can pretend
The sun is gone,
But I have a light
the day is done,
I'm having fun
I think I'm dumb
Or Maybe just happy"
  I sometimes feel I shouldn't refer to myself as a "blogger," let alone a "writer," because I barely do either. But dammit, I like the sound of that so much more than "disabled,"  "housewife," "maid," and so on.  No, I didn't go to college. I graduated high school, got married, made a ton of mistakes, taught myself how to tattoo and then after YEARS of hard work I became a tattoo artist. I can't even do that any more because I can't sit in one place that long. I can't bend hardly at all. My hands go numb after holding my machine for longer than 10 minutes. I can't draw anymore either and I LOVED to paint and draw. So, being on my laptop and writing or creating digital art is the only creativity I am left with any more. God, would you believe I am 34 and not 74!!! (I feel the latter though.)

  So for all this and more, I am now going to refer to myself as "A Lazy, Numb, Sometimes Blogger..." Because at least that way I am being truthful ;)

"Think I'm just happy ,
Think I'm just happy ,
Think I'm just happy ."

                                                                  <3 <3 <3 <3

Song Lyrics belong to Nirvana, written by Kurt Cobain

Monday, Monday.....

Ahh Monday......................... (Cue music from the mamas and the papas)

 When all the kiddos go back to school. No more in and out of everyone's kids tramping through my house. No more feeding and giving drinks out to all the kids. No more breaking up fights and figuring out who said and did what. No more wanting to choke parents for letting their kids act like jerks and treat my son like crap while also letting them disrespect us when we put them in their place. (Funny because they are the first parents to complain when their child is sent home for bad behavior, yet they are also the parents who are never around to see this behavior) No more listening to Liam cry because so and so said this, and so and so did that.

You know, no matter how many times we tell Liam to not play with certain kids, he always forgives and often forgets and plays with them anyway. He has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever met. I enjoy our days together when all of these said children are In school. When I hear the bus in the afternoon my stomach burns and my hearts sinks because I know that it's only a matter of time until something crappy happens.

Yet he insists on playing with them and I can't shelter him from ignorance all his life. I need to teach him right from wrong and how he can be a better person. But you know, help from other parents in the way they are rearing their kids would help. STOP covering up for them. STOP acting like they do no wrong. STOP letting them disrespect adults and bully other children and act like that is okay. You are raising our future. What you do now sticks with them later. You're not doing them any damn favors. 

My son is by no means perfect and I laugh when I hear ignorant neighbors say I think my kid does no wrong. When my kid is wrong he is punished and dealt with accordingly, which is what you should be doing with your kid. Instead you choose to be their friend and so let them do whatever they damn well please. Is it wrong that I sit back and wait for that to blow up in your face????

It's not like it was when we were kids. Your child is going to threaten to kill the wrong person and will a)result in CPS investigations and school expulsions or b)juvenile delinquent charges. When this happens don't look for sympathy here. Hubs and I have been trying to get through to all of you and your kids for the last 5 years. You choose not to listen. You choose not to make your kids listen. Sad really. Part of me feels bad that you don't care enough about your children to make them mind. Part of me feels bad for every child like my son who they mistreat. Part of me is waiting for another child to put them in their place. Hey, I'm  only human. I can only sit back and nurture my son's broken heart and shattered ego because of your child so many times, without growing bitter to you all.

The worst offenders have been told they are no longer welcome here, as have their parents. I also laugh when one parent in particular told her child he's not allowed around mine or our home. Why? Are you afraid he may actually be taught right from wrong, and how to respect other human beings? I am sitting here smirking because these are the people this post targets, and they will never read it. Not because I am hiding it, but because they don't care. The parents that care, like you and I, are the parents that read stuff like this. The parents that get it. The parents that don't let their children, special needs or not, be jerks to other children, special needs or not. We are the parents that are raising our futures right. To that I say, I admire you all! To the rest, you have my pity. I pray my son doesn't read about your child being in jail some day. I pray my son isn't your child's boss some day. I pray my son can always forgive and forget and NEVER treat your child the way you let yours treat my son.....
                                                                   
                                                                        ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

First Day Jitters....

  As I see pics of friends' kiddos heading back to school, and I hear about little ones starting kindergarten, I am so happy for them. Yet, for me, it makes me queasy.

You can't tell, but I was scared to death to let him go. (2010)

I remember the tears and the fear in Liam and myself that first day. It was rainy and dreary. My friend brought her kiddos over to wait with Liam for the bus. He was so excited. He danced all over the deck. When he got on the bus, I saw him put his brave face on. I watched as he choked back tears. I too did the same, because I didn't want my baby to see my fear.

Look how happy he was!!! (2010)

He rushed to get on the bus as he fought back his tears (2010)

   I remember waiting impatiently for him to get off the bus. I remember the look in his eyes when he did. I remember how he didn't speak, refused to eat, stared blankly around the room. My heart sinks, I want to vomit.

  He endured school for 4 days. He was placed in the hallway when he couldn't handle the class, the noises, the smells, and so on. At no time was I told. I emailed his teacher on day two. Asked her how it went. Asked her why his shirt was all stretched out around the neck. Why it was soaked. She told me,  "he misses you, that is all." At no time did she tell me he was spending his days in the hall. At no time did she tell me he vomited in the cafeteria and was sent to the nurse. He was sent out of gym, music and art, and only was able to tolerate the library.

  I am sickened. My child was treated like an unwanted animal, and I was none the wiser. I cry, a lot. When I see that teacher in public it is all I can do to refrain from mauling her. My son is terrified of her. He refuses to step foot in schools. He has a hard time coloring because he always remembers how she yelled at him and mocked him in front of a class full of strange kids. Just because he couldn't color in the lines.

   I know I made the right decision to pull him from that hellacious school. It was an easy choice to pull him, but a huge decision to take over his education myself. It has been hard being his teacher and there are days I get so upset, I do raise my voice. I am not perfect, and I will never claim to be. I have learned to walk away, and take a few breaths, and he is learning to do the same. We are learning together.

  I am watching my son flourish. When he aces math with no issues, he beams with pride. When he reads to me (a story of his choosing) he is all smiles. Inside, I am exploding with pride because I taught him that.

   I jest about the choice to home school, because it isn't easy. It's not for the faint of heart. It's not for everyone. For us, it was the only choice, the only way. When people ask me if Liam will ever return to brick and mortar school, I say I hope so. But do I???? Not really. It makes me sick to think about it. It makes him freak out to talk about it. Sure I would love a few hours of peace. But not at the price of my son. He didn't deserve the way he was treated at Northeast Bradford, and I can't and won't make him go through that again. When and if HE decides he wants to try, I will do my best to pave the way for him. Until then, we home school!

Look how happy he is in his personal class room! (this was his first day of school last year) he was counting ALOUD (which means yelling, bc he is so very literal. ( Blurred bc he does school in his underpants!)

♥♥♥♥

Anon makes me laugh....

 So the last time I blogged was about the Liebster Award. (I know, I need to blog more, but time, and brain fog that make that impossible.) Anyway, so on that post, someone left my fave comment to date. If you want to read it, CLICK HERE.

 I seriously laughed over this comment. I mean, really? First of all, as someone kindly pointed out to me, what pic was this person trying to steal? I mean, in that post the only pic was the Liebster award one. Secondly this person didn't have the brass tacks enough to comment by name. They hid behind that glorious ANON label. Yet tried calling me out for having made my blog so you can't right click my pics.

 This idiot called me a few things. All of which I am not. Well, all but one. Overprotective. I'll own the shit out of that one! I am a helicopter mother from hell. I won't deny that. Liam is my only kid. I am bound to smother him. He is the kid I wasn't supposed to have. Of course I am going to hover over him. He is MY kid, and if I chose to make it so that his pics can't be right clicked and saved by anyone, that is MY choice.

 When I started blogging I started out without his name or face. After a bit Pita asked me why I was doing that. He thought that parents may relate more to seeing a real face behind the struggles and triumphs. So that is when I decided to share my little man with the world. However, as his mother, it is still my job to protect him. I don't share pics of him unless he is dressed. I don't share pics of him that I wouldn't want to world to see of me. Well, with the exception of swimming pics. No one wants to see me swimming.....

 As for pics/graphics I make. Yes, I have had issues with large pages stealing my pics. Using them for likes. Cropping my name off. I am the first to admit that. But that is NOT why I disabled the right click feature here. You see, on my Legion facebook page, I have control over who is one there. If you're an ass, or rub me the wrong way, bye bye, I ban you,. It's my page after all. However, here, I don't have that control. Anyone and their sicko brother can access this blog. Which is why I am over protective.

 I am guessing Anon isn't a parent. I am guessing anon is a pompous ass. I am thinking anon is one person I know,  in particular. I could sit and assume all day, but let's face it,  why? Who has time for that?  My freshman science teacher teacher said it best when he said, "assume makes an ASS out of U and ME." Amen Mr. Salsman <3

 So no assuming here. Just righteous protection of my greatest creation. My son. If you don't like, don't visit my blog. Oh, and don't vote for me. I won't lose tears over it anon :)

                                                                           ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Woot Woot! Someone likes me ;)

  Stay at Home Crazy has donned me with the Liebster Award. How cool is that??? I feel so honored. She must really like me because last year she gave me this award too. (If you want to check that post out and see if anything has changed in a year, CLICK HERE.)  So now, in return, I have to follow through on what comes with the award.

                                                   And here is what the winners must do:

1. Thank the Liebster Award presenter(s) on your blog.
2. Link back to the blogger who presented it to you
3. Copy and paste the award on your blog.  
4. Present the award to 5 or 11 blogs that deserve to be noticed.
5. Let them know they've been presented with the Liebster Award.
6. Answer 11 questions posed by the presenter. 
7. Eat some dark chocolate.  It has anti-oxidants in it.  It will cure what ails you.  Unless you are allergic to chocolate.  Then skip 7. 

So here goes........
   1) A huge thank you and much love to Stay at Home Crazy for this award. Muah!!!! Thanks to this award, I have a reason to blog..... Well I guess I have many reasons to blog, but lately putting my thoughts together is just not happening. I blame my gabapentin and FMS for this horrible brain fog!

2) ↑ I did that above, click her AUSOME blog name ↑

3) Yup, did that too. (see top of blog)

4) And now for my list of blogs: Wow, I have met so many wonderful ppl in just the last year of this.... So this list may be a bit long!

• Four Sea Stars
• Homestyle Mama with a Side of Autism
• Deciphering Morgan
• Spouse, Kids and Special Needs Aren't Things Issued in a Seabag
• To Autism With Love
• Captain Jacktastic
• Autism Family Circus
• Autism Art Project
• Fasten Her Seat Belt

5) I guess I will do that when I finish this post!

6) Here goes, bear with me!

       

1.  What, if anything, is completely off limits as far as blog topics for you?  NOTHING! I post what comes to mind, and about our life. I do leave my inlaws out of posts out of respect for their privacy. Other than that, it's fair game here!
2.  What is your favorite sound? That's easy! The sound of Liam ASLEEP ;) Or rain on a tin roof, I love that sound too!
3.  If you could go back and talk to your 15 year old self, what one piece of information/advice would you share? Don't talk to your parents like that! You will be a parent one day, and you will realize they aren't being "mean" they are loving you and doing what is best for you. You will HATE it when your child speaks to you like that! 
4. How did you end up doing what you do today? (If you're a SAHM, what made you choose that vs. going back to work? If you work a paying job, how did you end up in the field you are in?)  At first it was by choice. I was a SAHM while pita worked. Then he became injured and now I was a SAHM and a nurse. Then the older Liam got, and the more his behaviors increased there was no choice but for me to stay home. Especially once he wasn't able to attend public school. I then took on the role of his teacher as well. Now with my health problems, I really can't work. So I am a SAHM, a teacher and a nurse. My plate is FULL!
5. What is your guilty pleasure? A Nap! I love to take naps, and there are days I HAVE to nap bc the chronic fatigue part of my illness makes me unable to stay awake. I always feel guilty when I need to take a nap. Like I may miss something cute that Liam does, or I'm not giving him enough attention. (I know, cray cray!)
6.  What's your favorite candy? Anything chocolate! I LOVE chocolate! 
7.  What prompted you to start your blog? Our life. When the Dr. said Liam had autism, pita and I were blown away. It just wasn't on our radar. Then certain people started complaining I was using facebook too much to vent, ( I unfriended those a holes) so I started my blog so I could speak my mind. It actually was a great release for me at first. Free therapy ;)
8.  Do you have a favorite food? If so, what? Hawaiian Pizza, Pizza Hut stuffed crust supreme and chinese food ;)
9.  If you had to pick 1 thing to change about yourself, what would it be? My weight. Due to my illnesses I have put on a lot of weight. They are working to get my thyroid under control, but even then I am so tired and weak I don't leave my chair much unless it's housework or something Liam needs.
10.   What physical attribute do you like most about yourself? Seriously??? I have to answer this??? I guess my smile. I once had someone tell me that when I smiled, my whole face lit up..... So I guess if I had to chose, that is my choice :)
11.  Do you still live where you grew up? If not, how far away are you from your hometown? No, well kinda. I live about 20 minutes away from the first town we lived in. In the 5th grade we then moved to a neighboring town (where my parents still live) so I live about 35 minutes from there :) I would love to move back to Florida though. Living only 20-30 minutes from Clearwater beach was so nice! I miss it very badly!

That is it for me. And so I pass on the torch :)

                                                                          ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥