Serenity Now!

I remember a few years ago when one of the kids would do something and I would react in the cliche fashion (sternly). I just realized how much my parenting style has changed over the past few years.

Isaak has always been a poor, picky, frustrated eater. Comes with the autism territory. I’ve learned, though, how to address the issue without just yelling, “Eat your food or ELSE!” There are clear consequences for eating or not eating, and I offer them as choices. He can choose. That way, I don’t have to get mad, I just have to point out what choice he made and follow through with it. No screaming. No feeling angry. No power struggle. No pit in my stomach.

Maggie has been getting up after bedtime for a few night with different excuses (”I’m lonely” or tonight it was “I heard a beeping noise”). A few years ago, my reaction would have been, “Get back to bed. It’s past bedtime.” Instead, my reaction was, “You know you’ve been getting up past bedtime for a few nights. If you’d like, we can move your bedtime back to 7, and then you have time to get up before your ‘real’ bedtime.” She didn’t like that idea. I have a feeling she won’t be getting up again tomorrow night.

I guess I finally realized that there doesn’t need to be anger and stress and frustration, only clear consequences and a matter-of-fact and loving attitude. I’ve been known to sometimes lament right along with the kid about a consequence. “Oh no! I’m so sorry you’ll have to clean that up and not have time to play!” Not doing it in a sarcastic way, but seriously, that’s a real bummer.

My home is a much more peaceful place these days. Even with all the stress we’re under. Our family is whole, intact, and cares for each other. No undue, added stress.

For now. Teenage years are not yet upon us!

Yes, after reading this post from someone else, I feel MUCH better about my life.

It COULD be worse!

Poop Chronicles I.
Poop Chronicles II.

You’ll n0tice that I included ALL the categories for this blog.

I’m sure I’m PMS-ing. According to the calendar I am, but whenever I get to this part of the month, I think it’s all “real” and I’m really feeling this way and it’s not hormones and I’ll never feel better again. Well, here I am again, and I’m trying to remember that the calendar says it’s hormones and that I will not feel like this forever.

And yet, here I am, feeling overwhelmed and like I should put my head in the oven. Although, I think I’d just get really hot like that and then I’d be bummed about being so hot.

I have too much going on, as always. I have my last final tonight to close out this quarter (yay!) and I hear it’s a real bugger and I haven’t studied at all. Don’t much care, as sad as that is. Then, I have three weeks off, but, not really. In those three weeks, I have to finish my first draft of my thesis and get a student teaching notebook put together (big project) for the next quarter which begins the very first part of January. Oh, and then there are the holidays and tutoring and taking care of family. Notice how that one is last. How sad is that?

Isaak had a rough week last week. So rough, in fact, that we instituted the “Behavior Ladder” again AND we put him on the GFCF diet (basically no grains or dairy). Dh is very skeptical, but he’s being very supportive. I’m just desperate. I hate to see him struggle, and I’m willing to try anythingto help him.

The Behavior Ladder is sorta sad but very effective. He lists all his favorite things (computer, Game Boy, etc.) and then prioritizes them into what he loves the most, and then I put them on a ladder and he has to earn them all back, one per week. He has certain goals he has to meet (like controlling his temper), and if he does well for one week, he steps up one on the ladder and gets that back. I don’t like to do it because it seems extreme (everything is taken away to begin with), but he actually seems to enjoy it! He doesn’t complain about not having anything. He sees the whole thing as a big reward system, even though I took all the things away to begin with.

What a good kid. And he’s really trying. It’s a lot to deal with in his little mind. I can’t imagine what it’s like to try to control a runaway brain.

Anyway, I’m just feeling a bit down and overwhelmed, but this, too, shall pass. In fact, in another couple months, I’ll be home free (literally).

In one of my classes last week, the professor emphasized how important it is to remember that our kids with special needs are “normal” kids and to not hold them to a higher standard than we would our typically-developing children. We sometimes think our kids have to be “perfect” and that any bad behavior must be stomped out immediately. They are expected to sit perfectly in class, and any movement away from that is addressed. They are expected to spend recess engaged with friends each day, each recess, the whole time, or they’re reminded. They’re expected to complete their home- or schoolwork without argument or else. All that when if our typically-developing child occasionally engaged in the behavior, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Isaak got in a tiff with a kid after school the other day. My initial reaction was BIG (not at him, but internally). After I thought about it, you know what? Typically-developing kids sometimes get in tiffs, especially boys. It’s not a pattern. It’s not something that happens every day. In fact, it’s the first time ever. So, I decided instead of addressing it as a problem behavior, I would get as much information about the incident as I could, and talk to him about it, and not make a big deal of it.

He IS “normal.” I need to remember that sometimes, and give him the lee-way that I would any other kid.

In February, it will have been 11 years since we were married. Dh was in Iraq for our 10th, so I’d like to celebrate our anniversary in a big way, somehow. Any ideas?

I love Jack Johnson. Here’s one of my favorite songs…

“Do You Remember”

Do you remember when we first met
I sure do
It was some time
In early September
You were lazy about it
You made me wait around
I was so crazy about you
I didn’t mind
So I was late for class
I locked my bike to yours
It wasn’t hard to find
You painted flowers on
Guess that I was afraid
That if you rode away
You might not roll back
My direction real soon
Well I was crazy about you then
And now the craziest thing of all
Over 10 years have gone by
And you’re still mine
We’re locked in time
Let’s rewind

Do you remember
When we first moved in together
The piano took up the living room
You’d play me boogie woogie
I played you love songs
You’d say we’re playing house
Now you still say we are
We build our get away
Up in a tree we found
We felt so far away
Though we were still in town
I remember watching
That old tree burn down
I took a picture that
I don’t like to look at

Well all these times
They come and go
Alone don’t seem so long
Over 10 years have gone by
We cant rewind
We’re locked in time
But your still mine

Do you remember?

I had struggled over the years when I decided I only wanted the two kids and my friends were going on to have 3, 4, 5 kids. I always felt I’d want a large family, but when I was given mine with its challenges, I didn’t feel I could adequately fulfill each child’s unique needs with a large family. Yet, I felt that little voice in the back of my head that it was somehow more noble to have more kids and raise them up right.

It wasn’t until I got into school that I found my own “calling.” No, I wasn’t supposed to have a large family. I was suppose to raise up the two I have in righteousness, and I was suppose to help a set of other kids who were already here who needed help. My impact on their lives could be tremendous. I began to understand that my calling in life, with my small family and now new career plans, is no less noble than if I had chosen to have a large family and raise them up well. I have made peace and have been comforted to know that I am doing what I’m supposed to.

Being in school with two young kids, one with special needs, and one year of which with a husband in Iraq, has been challenging, to say the least. I felt strongly that I should do it, so I followed those promptings. But, it has been hard. I have wanted to be a good mother, wife, and friend, involved in the needs of others, getting fulfilled, myself, in doing so. I think I’ve done alright, but being in school, especially this past quarter, has drained me to nothing. I know I’m now being a mediocre mother, wife, and friend. I don’t like feeling that way. I know it’s only temporary, and I’ll be in a good place to give again, better than ever before, in not too long, but it’s hard now.

I’m looking forward to the end of this quarter (next week) and a couple weeks off (although I’ll be writing my thesis during that time). And then, only one more quarter. I will be done in March.

My family has been so understanding and helpful. Dave has been the greatest support. We were watching “March of the Penguins” the other night, and there’s a scene where the mom lays the egg and then the mom and dad do a little dance so that she can pass the egg off to the dad to watch for 4 months while she goes off to feed. “That’s us, isn’t it?” I said to Dave.

He is a great father penguin.

I went to a great conference by Tony Attwood last month. There’s always debate going on about the relationship between high-functioning autism (HFA) and Asperger Syndrome (AS). According to the official diagnosing criteria, the only difference between the two is that HFA has an early language delay and AS does not. So, when people ask me, “Is Isaak becoming AS?” I say, no, he had an early language delay, so he has HFA and that doesn’t “turn into” AS.

While that is true, Attwood made it real clear what that relationship is.

That makes sense to me. Isaak’s early development definitely look more “autistic”, but as he hit 5-6 years old and his language caught up and his social and behavior delays were less pronounced, he began to look like the kids with AS that I knew. Looking at this chart, I can see why! While he doesn’t have AS and never will, his development now will follow that same trajectory.

Just some FYI to share!