Category Archives: Autism

Making “change” the norm.

 

Spergy kids are not great fans of change. They like routine, love familiarity and flourish when things are done just the way they like them to be. When things stay the same it’s like knowing a hug from mom waits for you every day you walk in the door from school –rain, hail or shine. They feel safe and secure. Who wouldn’t?

But the harsh reality is that life moves at such a rapid pace and as such there will be times when you have to adapt and getting your kid out the door without destroying their own peace of mind is the biggest challenge of the week.

As a single mom of a boy with Aspergers, I have had to do this multiple times and I have one simple solution that may not work all the time but has certainly helped us through many unexpected moments where he just has to come with me.

The Bag. The Bag has gone through many incarnations but the principle behind it always stays the same. In the bag there are a number of familiar objects that make him feel “safe”. From his favorite clothes, toys he loves, drawing book, pencils, camera…..anything that currently holds his interest that he can lose himself in when surrounded by too many new people/noises/sounds/smells etc.…

Managing the Meltdowns.

For Shelley and anyone else who may need it…….

I got an email the other day from a mom whose 5 year old has just been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder otherwise known as Aspergers.  I know that  first feeling all too well as Kai was the same age when he got his diagnosis except I had the luxury of knowing absolutely nothing about Aspergers and in some ways, ignorance was bliss.  These days there’s a lot more awareness  about it even amongst those who don’t  know someone with it so I can imagine those first horrifying thoughts of what might lie ahead.

And whilst I can only speak for myself, and the people I know who have kids with the “disorder” (a word I prefer to NOT use), I want to assure you, it is not as bad as you might think. Yes the road will be rough, but not as tough as someone whose child is given a diagnosis of something like leukemia. Aspergers will not kill your child and I have learnt to find the blessings wherever they might be.

The mom reached out to me cause I have written previously about the meltdowns my son has had over the years with his Aspergers and she was hoping to get some advice from me on how to manage the meltdowns to minimize collateral damage.…

It takes a village

 

It takes a village to raise a child. This week I have witnessed the best and the worst of that. From the self centered poorly parented Beverly Hills brats who stole my son’s wallet with $180 in it and the insane parents who threatened to sue me for asking them to look into it, to the kid who smashed my son’s brand new

iPhone and whose mother I am still yet to hear from, to the complete other end of the spectrum – my son’s social studies teacher – April Silva, the greatest hero of his life thus far. Why? Because at twelve years of age my son has learnt that he is smart and I have her to thank for it.

It started a few weeks ago during his IEP meeting (Individualized Education


Program)where she was the only one of his teachers who bothered turning up and who said, “Teach me everything you know about Aspergers and how I can help inspire your child.” She inspired my iAM Project (http://wp.me/P1L4ip-as) and in the space of two weeks and many emails between us, she took my son from failing with 47% in his tests and thinking he was stupid to getting an A with 96% in his last two tests and him whispering to me as I tucked him into bed last night,  “Mummy, I think I might be smart!”.…

Pat yourself on the back Friday!

Okay so my arms were elbow high in bleach for the third time in three days as I tried to get the right amount of fade on this brand new army cammo t shirt to match the second hand dessert cammo pants that were bought for this weekend’s overnight camping air soft tournament Kai and his friends are going to.

Yes, some of you who have followed the trials and tribulations of having an Asperger kid might think, “just another day in the life….” with perfection sought in some of the most random things. For example, despite being talented beyond his years and having drawn prolifically from the time he could pick up a pencil, at the age of five Kai abruptly stopped drawing because he could not get what he pictured in his head “perfect”. It was with much incredulity and a huge sigh of relief from me  that he decided to take art as his elective this year in school.

We have had sock dramas for our entire life and have resorted to wearing no shoes, no socks, odd socks, socks with various parts cut out of to buying in bulk the one pair of red robin seamless socks he loves.…

Not such a small world after all!

It’s back to school time here in America and two weeks in I start to feel the pressures of  parent of a child on the autism spectrum as I begin to deal with the each of his new teachers, educating them on whatis is not “naughty” behavour versus “spectrum disorder” and so I can’t imagine how hard it is for my son to start a new year, every year, with new rooms, new teachers, new rules, new class mates, new work, new, new, new, new, new, new, NNNNNEEEWWWWW! See, even we feel stressed just reading this. Trying living life on The Spectrum. That’s why moving to America was such a big deal and how proud I am of just how well he has done.

Walt Disney once said, “It’s a small world”, but for kids on the Autism spectrum, sometimes their world will never ever be small enough for them to feel comfortable “in their own skin”. Let me explain………..

When we first came to America we did the universal pilgrimage to the land children across the globe dream of visiting, the place where dreams supposedly really do come true, the Kingdom where magic happens every single day: yes, we went to Disneyland!…

Take a half a cup of cement and harden the f^*k up!

If it takes a village to raise a child then how does a single mom bring up a boy to become a man all on her own?

I have baited plenty of hooks with squirming worms and managed to not throw up (at least not while he was watching). I’ve played with cars, guns and swords, have been cast in a million imaginary scenes as Cowboys, Indians, Pirates and villians of all sorts. I’ve occasionally been the damsel in distress rescued by my knight in shining armor, have faked a passion for everything disgusting and have wrestled with my boy far longer than I wanted, with him growing much stronger than I thought possible. Ouch! Is there such a thing as battered mother syndrome?

And to pat myself on the back, I like to think I have done a pretty good job, thus far. But I could see the “man tank” verging on empty and when a boy beat my son up at Baseball camp last summer, with free reign because my boy refused to fight back, I knew it was time to help him “man up”. But how? It’s not like I could do a Chaz Bono and change into the man he needs in his life.…