Advice

I have gotten quite a bit of advice over the years from family, friends, teachers/therapists, busboys at McDonalds. You get the idea. This may sound strange but I love getting advice from people. This is mostly because you never know when you will get the random 'gem'. For example, recently it was the tip to pin a washcloth to my autistic son's shirt to keep him from chewing his way through another wardrobe. Very helpful. I have to admit though, that I enjoy the 'bad' advice as much as the helpful ones. I have certainly had a lot of those too. My all time favorite came a couple of years ago from my son's ABA behavioral therapist. He was going through a particularly aggressive stage at the time. This posed a real threat to his younger brother who was only about two years old at the time. I had found the toddler with marks on his neck looking suspiciously like fingerprints after I had put them to bed one night. The two year old immediately became my new roommate. When I discussed the situation with his therapist, her bright idea was, "Don't ever let him out of your sight." Sounds easy enough right? To answer the question I am sure you are all thinking, no, she did not have any kids of her own. She couldn't believe it when I told her I didn't think that was going to work out for me. She laid it on pretty thick, reprimanding me for not putting my child's safety first. So I finally told her I would do my best. But here's a warning for all of you, "Don't try this at home". People look at you funny when they see a four year old duct taped to your leg.

Not Funny

Nothing was funny today.

Fashion

Over the years I have failed miserably in the department of fashion. But lets face it, my lifestyle screams sneakers and hoodies. When I enter a room with my children I doubt anyone is thinking, "Cute shoes". With four children, three of which are young boys, I have to dress like I am training for a 15k marathon. So as soon as they start making athletic stilettos, I'm on board.

My sixteen year old sister discovered the truth of this while she was staying with us during the summer. She had to shed her flipflops to chase my autistic son into the busy street by the park. He was, what the autism world calls, a 'bolter' at that time. His obsession was racing into streets. I think he liked to hear tires squeal, but it could also have been the noise and heat of a running car that he liked best. That was the summer we banned all outings.

His new obsession is clothes chewing. Yes you heard me right, he tries to eat his clothes. My husband and I attended a training workshop on behavioral therapy. They stressed the importance of dressing your autistic children stylishly so they will be more socially acceptable. Come on, really? I don't think Daegan's pants are going to make him popular. I would think that the shirt soaked from neckline to navel, with holes chewed into the collar, would be more of a turnoff then his lack of designer jeans. But what do I know about fashion?

Teamwork

My husband and I have incredible teamwork when it comes to my autistic son. For example, yesterday Daegan was outside playing with his brothers. I poked my head out to check on them. He was 'painting' the play equipment. Now I won't go into detail about his choice of medium. I'll only say it's brown, smelly, and came from his own body. You'll just have to use your imagination.

It will tell you a lot about our family by each of our reactions to the situation. I said, "Oh dear." and, grabbing both of his wrists, took him directly into the bathtub to clean up. His two brother glanced up briefly then kept playing without saying anything. Terry, who had been changing in the other room, and upon hearing my comment, immediately walked outside to hose everything off. Delanie's friend, who was over at the time, ran to the door to see what was going on. She was appropriately horrified as she yelled "Daegan is smearing dog poo!" To which my daughter, who was sitting at the table doing homework simply said, "No, it's his poo." The disturbing part of this exchange is that Delanie never even looked up. She was just assuming.

I'll have to admit this has not been my favorite stage of Daegan's. But before you start feeling sorry for us you have to know that as I sat on the toilet scrubbing his body all I could think was how lucky we were that he was outside this time. After all, the hose doesn't quite reach inside so easily.

Routines

All the experts say that children thrive on routine. This must be true, because there I am, starting my day at 3:00 AM waiting by the bathroom door for my six year old autistic son to finish going potty. It is the same thing every morning. Is that considered getting up early or being up really late? Anyway, this begins his nightly ritual of lying in bed making all sorts of screeches and strange siren sounds for the next two or three hours. Then I have to drag him out of bed every morning to get ready for another very productive day at school. His teachers think he need to be put on Ritalin, but I think a nightly. dose of Tylenol PM would do the trick. Does that come in cherry flavored chewables yet?

It is probably best that he wakes every night, because if I don't have him go to the bathroom in the middle of the night then I am awakened by the melodious sound of my four year old saying, "Mom, Daegan peed on the dog kennel again." It is not always the dog kennel, he has gotten very creative over the years, the entertainment center, humidifier, on top of the changing table, (my personal favorite) in the empty bathtub right next to the toilet, etc. You get the idea. In all truth, sometimes I roll over and go back to sleep. There will still be a puddle in ten minutes. It's all about priorities.

Library

I took my two youngest kids to the library last week. Now I know what you might be thinking. Who in their right mind would take a two year old boy and his four year old brother out in public. Well, I never claimed to be in my right mind.

I have been taking my kids weekly to the library for story time since my oldest was a toddler, so this is no new experience for us. My two youngest have presented a whole new challenge for me. My toddler tears through the library at top speed, leaving a trail of books behind him. This usually provides a great way to tell which aisle he is hiding down, but this particular visit I lost track of him for a moment. He is much faster than he used to be. My four year old followed behind me laughing at the scene, so I decided to put him to good use. His cute little face lit up as I said the magic words, "Go stop your brother." He took off like a rocket. Within seconds a huge wailing sound reverberated throughout the library. I raced across the library until I came to the 649.1-808.5 Self Help aisle. I turned the corner to see my two year old lying face down with his hands and feet kicking furiously as his older brother sat on his back, arms crossed, with a look of utter triumph on his face. As I scooped my toddler into my arms a book title caught my eye, "Enjoy the Ride: tools and tips for the most common parenting challenges". Looking back, maybe I should have checked it out. But who has time to read?

You may be thinking, "Why doesn't that woman strap her kid into a stroller?" Wait until you hear how well that went the last time I did. My toddler kicked so much that he literally tipped the stroller forward so that he was lying face down. I paused before rushing right over, scared that he might be hurt. Suddenly his little arms popped out from the sides and he started army crawling away, dragging the entire stroller with him. Now that I look back it did slow him down a bit.

We no longer stay for story time. This is mostly due to the fact that it is held in the back corner of the library. We do not usually make it that far into the building before being kicked out. I miss the good old days when my six year old autistic son would accompany us to the library. Everyone ignored my rambunctious young ones, because his odd behavior and screeches were usually more distracting. The librarians usually just diverted their eyes and didn't do anything. There is probably a law about people with special needs having full rights to do pretty much whatever they want. God Bless America, land of the accommodating.

Introduction

I usually write to escape my life for a few moments, not to recount the horrors of my day. I am hoping that writing about my children's escapades will be therapeutic for me, because with this economy, who can afford Ritalin?

I don't usually condone the overuse of medication, but despiration can weaken one's defenses from time to time. What parent out there hasn't been tempted to sneak a little Benadryl into their child's juice at 10:00 at night? If there was a magic pill out there that could transfer a child's energy to their parent's I would sell my first born child to acquire some. Okay, maybe not my first born, but my others may be negotiable.