Before I got married, I thought only crazy people or drug addicts saw Therapists or Counselors. I was pretty judgemental about people who needed help.
"Well, I'll never need therapy. I am fine. FINE.." and "Therapy is for junkies and/or losers."
That was my attitude. But then someone very close to me, a good friend, had to ask for help. She had to reach out before it was too late. Or before she fell off the deep end, literally. And my idea of therapy changed in an instant, it changed with one late night phone call. That "help" saved her life and brought her back to us. And to this day I can laugh with her, talk with her and sit back and watch her amazing new life with her new family..she is living her dreams. How many of us "normal" people can say we "live our dreams" everyday? None of the amazing things in her life would have happened if she didn't ask for help. She wouldn't be here.
So, my opinion changed.
Earlier last year, right around the time of Brody's first IEP meeting, I found myself in that same boat. I had to ask for help. I was to the point where I could not attend IEP or school meetings for Brody without weeping afterwards (or during). I couldn't talk about his diagnosis, without getting emotional. I was angry at parents who had "normal" kids..I wore sunglasses a lot so people wouldn't see me cry at birthday parties and baseball games, and I would think..."Why does their little boy blow out the candles and not my baby?"
I couldn't face it. And I did not want to just pop pills, or start drinking heavily, and not give a shit. I didn't want to check out and disappear.
I wanted to give a shit.
One morning I decided to search online for profiles of Family Therapists.
My criteria:
1.) We needed a guy. Destin and Brody both respond better to male figures...probably because of how awesome their dad is, that is my theory.
2.) Someone who is open-minded and loving to children.
3.) Knowledge of and experience with Autism.
4.) Patient and calm.
I searched for a few hours online and found Bryon. I read his profile, and called him. We spoke for about an hour, sort of like a job interview. He was a Counselor at a local alternative high school for kids with special needs (talk about open-minded). He worked mainly with older kids, ages 14-19. And the majority of them, you guessed it, had spectrum disorders.
He talked about a boy he was working with now, who is 17, and has autism. He said his case is very severe (doesn't speak, not potty trained, etc.), but the trick (if you will) is focusing on the rewards you get from the relationship with kids with special needs. Not what "society" says we should get out of it. He said the relationship he has with this teenager, is one of the most rewarding relationships he has had in his entire life. Powerful. I especially liked the fact that he works with older children with autism...as I am sure you can tell from this post, that is really the heart of my sadness with Brody. It's birthdays...Brody getting older and not knowing what is going to happen to him and his development.
Bryon also explained that when a child is diagnosed with Autism, "the whole family is diagnosed, like an addict. The whole family becomes addicted, too."
He was making some serious sense. And he met all of my criteria. Everything from the calming voice to his expertise in Autism. Bryon was a perfect match.
So, I made an appointment.
At the first appointment, we all went. The whole fam damily. We all sat in his office; we looked a little like "Motley Crue.." but without the hairbands, but just as chaotic. Matt was head-to-toe in Harley apparel and boots, and his huge beard, I was in a dress and heels, Brody in sweats and Destin neat and tidy from head to toe. And we just got to know each other...asked a lot of questions. Bryon and Destin really hit it off, from the get-go. Brody jumped on his lap. It was a win-win.
Matt however, wasn't sold. After the meeting, he asked if he could maybe...not go? He really didn't feel the connection, but would go if I wanted him to.. Matt has already "grieved" for Brody's diagnosis. He did this early. It was fast and accute and intense, but it ended. But I am still not there, yet. My grief is lingering.
I see Bryon about 1-3 times a month. Sometimes Destin is with me, sometimes Brody is with me. Sometimes, like yesterday, I go alone. He also has an open call policy. I can call him when I need to, without an appointment. I've done this about 3 times. There will be an incident, and I will need some strategies on how to handle the situation...like an IEP meeting, rough day with Brody/Destin, or even a rough day at work (my old job that is, my new job is amazing).
So, the take-away from this little post today is, ask for help. You can't do it alone. Whether it's addiction, divorce, illness, whatever, you need an objective and calming presence in your life to keep you sane. And to see what is really important. I will find myself in a hard situation and will repeat Bryon's strategies and advice in my head. It helps. Friends are amazing, too and I have learned a lot about why certain people enter or
re-enter your life...that is a story for another post, another time.
Yesterday, I asked Bryon..."So, am I emotionally stable...? Do you have a sane client on your hands?"
"Yes, Cassie...(and he laughed) you are fine. You're mom."
I like that.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Don't Ask Unless You Want the Answer
Brody's last day of preschool ever was July 11th...I could not believe it. His teachers literally became members of our family. I loved all of them and on the last day, Brody gave his teacher a big kiss and a hug. I missed it...but Matt witnessed the whole thing. He said it was incredible. All we really want for Brody is to be accepted. And his teachers really, really loved him. I still keep in touch with them and we have a Ted Drewes date planned, soon.
A big part of this whole transition is...drumroll...kindergarten.
I've observed Brody's new kindergarten twice now, and I am definitely getting used to the idea of him being "school age." However, kindergarten for kids with special needs is quite different than what we experienced with Destin. It's not that it's bad or whatever, it's just...well...different. I can't think of a better word for it.
For example...there is a lead teacher for the class, but then each child has their own Resource Teacher. I requested that Brody have a male teacher...he is a "performer" and definitely shows off for men more than women. We tend to get more out of him if men are involved, or his brother. Funny huh? But it's true.
Next, most of the kids in his class are actually older. There are about 3 other kindergartners in the class and the rest are between 9-11 years old. So, that took some getting used to. At first it really bugged me..."where are the other 5 year olds? Will he be with peers? What is this? Will he get bullied by the big kids?"
It turns out Brody will spend about 20-40% of the week with his "GenEd" class (that is what they call "mainstream") in a typical kindergarten classroom. I also observed that class and it was like walking into the Twilight Zone. Seeing typical kindergarten and then Brody's kindergarten was quite a shock. Not bad, not sad, just again, extremely different.
The second time I came ot observe Brody's class I really got to know his teacher, Maura. She is fabulous. She is extremely energetic, funny, tough, goofy, and frankly, pardon my French here, but
She. knows. her. shit.
I loved watching her with the kids; I think she and Brody will hit it off for sure. She also had a perfect sense of humor...I mean, you really have to when you spend day in and day out with kids with special needs. Some things they do and say, is just extremely funny. I've learned this from being with Brody, you just laugh or cry. I choose to laugh...usually.
While visiting on this one particular day, I spent about an hour in Brody's soon-to-be classroom. I was sitting there in one of the little kiddo chairs and started chatting with one of the Transition Specialists at Parkway, her name is Kristen (she was wonderful, too....and she is in love with Brody. It helps when the resource people genuinely get along with your kid and with you...wow, does it make a difference to have some chemistry). I started asking questions, that in my gut, I knew I shouldn't be asking. But then I heard myself say it out loud...
"So, what's going to happen when Brody is in High School?"
"You want to know?" Kristen asked.
I nodded. But then regretted it.
"Well, they are in a small group or class. They start out learning how to basic self-care skills, tie their shoes, etc. depending on their ability level. And sometimes we take them out into the community to the grocery store or a restaurant so they can learn how to make change, order from a menu..."
My eyes glazed over and I immeditately had visuals of those busses at Wal-mart and McDonalds, and the groups of special needs individuals with their helpers. They can't speak, and they can hardly walk. And the helpers are holding their hands as they shop the aisles and laugh excitedly in the checkout line. I saw a flash of Brody's face in that group.
Kristen went on..."We also do some job training, like how to use a mop, broom, vaccum..."
Again, that flash of Brody's future. He is wearing a fast food restaurant uniform and sweeping a floor.
I told her she could stop. I had enough.
The visit ended and as I got in my car, I was overwhelmed with thoughts about Brody's future. Sure, we are in kindergarten now, but I am going to blink and he will be 15...is that what we have to look forward to? Making change and using a mop? Is that all?
But really...who are we to say what success in life is? It's up to Brody...and I cannot judge his happiness.
Eventually I came down to earth and realized that...I really should not have asked. I really didn't want the answers yet. I shouldn't have gone there. I don't have to right now. Right now, it is time for kindergarten. It's not time for a learners permit. It's time to get excited about his first year as a "Big Kid."
Love you, Big Boy.
-Mom.
A big part of this whole transition is...drumroll...kindergarten.
I've observed Brody's new kindergarten twice now, and I am definitely getting used to the idea of him being "school age." However, kindergarten for kids with special needs is quite different than what we experienced with Destin. It's not that it's bad or whatever, it's just...well...different. I can't think of a better word for it.
For example...there is a lead teacher for the class, but then each child has their own Resource Teacher. I requested that Brody have a male teacher...he is a "performer" and definitely shows off for men more than women. We tend to get more out of him if men are involved, or his brother. Funny huh? But it's true.
Next, most of the kids in his class are actually older. There are about 3 other kindergartners in the class and the rest are between 9-11 years old. So, that took some getting used to. At first it really bugged me..."where are the other 5 year olds? Will he be with peers? What is this? Will he get bullied by the big kids?"
It turns out Brody will spend about 20-40% of the week with his "GenEd" class (that is what they call "mainstream") in a typical kindergarten classroom. I also observed that class and it was like walking into the Twilight Zone. Seeing typical kindergarten and then Brody's kindergarten was quite a shock. Not bad, not sad, just again, extremely different.
The second time I came ot observe Brody's class I really got to know his teacher, Maura. She is fabulous. She is extremely energetic, funny, tough, goofy, and frankly, pardon my French here, but
She. knows. her. shit.
I loved watching her with the kids; I think she and Brody will hit it off for sure. She also had a perfect sense of humor...I mean, you really have to when you spend day in and day out with kids with special needs. Some things they do and say, is just extremely funny. I've learned this from being with Brody, you just laugh or cry. I choose to laugh...usually.
While visiting on this one particular day, I spent about an hour in Brody's soon-to-be classroom. I was sitting there in one of the little kiddo chairs and started chatting with one of the Transition Specialists at Parkway, her name is Kristen (she was wonderful, too....and she is in love with Brody. It helps when the resource people genuinely get along with your kid and with you...wow, does it make a difference to have some chemistry). I started asking questions, that in my gut, I knew I shouldn't be asking. But then I heard myself say it out loud...
"So, what's going to happen when Brody is in High School?"
"You want to know?" Kristen asked.
I nodded. But then regretted it.
"Well, they are in a small group or class. They start out learning how to basic self-care skills, tie their shoes, etc. depending on their ability level. And sometimes we take them out into the community to the grocery store or a restaurant so they can learn how to make change, order from a menu..."
My eyes glazed over and I immeditately had visuals of those busses at Wal-mart and McDonalds, and the groups of special needs individuals with their helpers. They can't speak, and they can hardly walk. And the helpers are holding their hands as they shop the aisles and laugh excitedly in the checkout line. I saw a flash of Brody's face in that group.
Kristen went on..."We also do some job training, like how to use a mop, broom, vaccum..."
Again, that flash of Brody's future. He is wearing a fast food restaurant uniform and sweeping a floor.
I told her she could stop. I had enough.
The visit ended and as I got in my car, I was overwhelmed with thoughts about Brody's future. Sure, we are in kindergarten now, but I am going to blink and he will be 15...is that what we have to look forward to? Making change and using a mop? Is that all?
But really...who are we to say what success in life is? It's up to Brody...and I cannot judge his happiness.
Eventually I came down to earth and realized that...I really should not have asked. I really didn't want the answers yet. I shouldn't have gone there. I don't have to right now. Right now, it is time for kindergarten. It's not time for a learners permit. It's time to get excited about his first year as a "Big Kid."
Love you, Big Boy.
-Mom.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
More Than a Vow
Like most (I mean all!) married women, I remember my wedding day vividly. I can tell you what the air smelled like, what my mom said to me as I put my veil on, what I ate for breakfast, and what song was playing on the limo ride to the church. But what I can't tell you is what exactly, I mean exactly, those vows really meant 9 years ago.
I took my vows seriously, but to avoid breaking into tears, I treated them like lines on a stage. And later in the night, privately in our honeymoon suite, I shared my personal vows alone with my husband, so he knew I was serious. And then we took off for our WILD Mexican honeymoon for 5 days. And I mean wild...we were 23 and 25 years old, we were in Puerto Villarta. We partied like the Spring Break we never had. We had a blast. And 18 months later we had Destin Matthew Boland, our first little guy. We were (are) wildly in love. We dated for 5 months and got engaged in a Taco Bell drive thru. Most people thought we were crazy and they were not afraid to share that opinion. And that was almost 9 years ago.
There is a statistic out there that says 50% of all marriages end in divorce. And that percentage goes even higher if you have a child born with a disability. The stats are insane, something like 70% of marriages that involve a child with special needs ends in divorce. That is scary news.
I remember the day Brody was diagnosed, formally. It was Destin's Open House at his new kindergarten. I met his teacher, shook her hand, and explained that Destin had a brother with special needs. She had kind eyes and knew what I meant. Matt looked at me in shock.
Later that night I told him what the pediatrician told me...and that was our wedding day all over again.
I said this news meant we were in this together. And all of the petty stuff we had been through in the past, was nothing compared to what we were about to face...together. And I needed to know he was in this for the long haul.
"Of course, Cassie. I am in love with you," he said.
Thank God for that.
With all of the challenges we had witrh Brody over the past year, I can always go back to Matt and say that my marriage is amazing. And not many people can say that. I am one lucky mommy. The one thing in my life that has stayed strong passed any of this, is our commitment to stay together.
I love holding his calloused hands, making margaritas to old country songs, laughing at our favorite shows, folding his laundry. I love the fact that he hates makeup and high heels, loves ripped jeans and flip flops and would rather cook at home than make reservations. I love that he tears up to old movies, wrestles with our kids, and can sew buttons on a ripped dress. I love the leather boots, dirty jeans, Jack Daniels t-shirts, and cheap sunglasses that he wears when he rides the bike. I love the fact that I can't sleep unless he is home and sleeping next to me.
A lot of this blog has been about Brody, but the man who really deserves the credit is the one who tucks him in at night. The one who makes his pancakes. It's Matt. He's awesome. I am lucky. And always will be.
I took my vows seriously, but to avoid breaking into tears, I treated them like lines on a stage. And later in the night, privately in our honeymoon suite, I shared my personal vows alone with my husband, so he knew I was serious. And then we took off for our WILD Mexican honeymoon for 5 days. And I mean wild...we were 23 and 25 years old, we were in Puerto Villarta. We partied like the Spring Break we never had. We had a blast. And 18 months later we had Destin Matthew Boland, our first little guy. We were (are) wildly in love. We dated for 5 months and got engaged in a Taco Bell drive thru. Most people thought we were crazy and they were not afraid to share that opinion. And that was almost 9 years ago.
There is a statistic out there that says 50% of all marriages end in divorce. And that percentage goes even higher if you have a child born with a disability. The stats are insane, something like 70% of marriages that involve a child with special needs ends in divorce. That is scary news.
I remember the day Brody was diagnosed, formally. It was Destin's Open House at his new kindergarten. I met his teacher, shook her hand, and explained that Destin had a brother with special needs. She had kind eyes and knew what I meant. Matt looked at me in shock.
Later that night I told him what the pediatrician told me...and that was our wedding day all over again.
I said this news meant we were in this together. And all of the petty stuff we had been through in the past, was nothing compared to what we were about to face...together. And I needed to know he was in this for the long haul.
"Of course, Cassie. I am in love with you," he said.
Thank God for that.
With all of the challenges we had witrh Brody over the past year, I can always go back to Matt and say that my marriage is amazing. And not many people can say that. I am one lucky mommy. The one thing in my life that has stayed strong passed any of this, is our commitment to stay together.
I love holding his calloused hands, making margaritas to old country songs, laughing at our favorite shows, folding his laundry. I love the fact that he hates makeup and high heels, loves ripped jeans and flip flops and would rather cook at home than make reservations. I love that he tears up to old movies, wrestles with our kids, and can sew buttons on a ripped dress. I love the leather boots, dirty jeans, Jack Daniels t-shirts, and cheap sunglasses that he wears when he rides the bike. I love the fact that I can't sleep unless he is home and sleeping next to me.
A lot of this blog has been about Brody, but the man who really deserves the credit is the one who tucks him in at night. The one who makes his pancakes. It's Matt. He's awesome. I am lucky. And always will be.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Eye Contact
I don't like to talk too much about my job, but the majority of my professional life involves working with at-risk college students. Most, not all, of the college students I work with have serious issues at home to deal with including domestic violence, medical issues, child custody, unplanned pregnancies and drug abuse.
This past week I met with one particular student who was disrespectful and disruptive with several members of my staff. I called her into my office to discuss her behavior and basically to find out,
"What's up with this?"
I noticed that during the conversation she refused to look at me. I kept asking her to "look me in the eye."
"Now, why should I do that?" She asked me.
"Because it is a sign of respect," I told her. I have a very stern "teacher talk" and strict "teacher face" I use in these situations. It works like a charm. I only use it when I have to.
We had a good conversation; we left with a clean slate.
On my drive home that night, my thoughts went to my family, as they typically do.
Brody's eye contact has steadily improved over the past year. One of the first symptons of autism is scattered eye contact, among other things. It comes and goes, but mostly it is on the up and up.
Tonight was especially wonderful; Brody was very connected with all of us. I don't know if it had to do with the fact we had his cousins over tonight or that he was just in a good mood, but he was sooooo "into us" all night. It was wonderful. I used to take so much for granted with my older son. And it is unfair to compare their skills, but it is so wonderful to see "normal" behavior from Brody from time to time, like a laugh at a joke or a direct smile from ear to ear.
When I was tucking Brody in tonight, he looked straight into my eyes and smiled. He has huge brown eyes that remind me of Patrick Swayze in "Dirty Dancing." He looked right at me. His gaze lasted for about a minute. I wondered if I should grab his flash cards and start drilling words or pictures of animals, but the selfish side of me did not want to waste the connection. So instead...
"Hi Buddy...loves ya..." was all I could say.
Then he smiled, laughed uncontrollably. I smothered him with kisses and hugs. Then he covered himself in his Thomas the Tank Engine blanket.
Eye contact is a funny thing. Sometimes it means respect. Sometimes it means lust or hatred or jealousy. But with Brody everything has a new meaning, a new definition. He continually redefines words for us like joy, faith, normal, love, sorrow, passion, hope. His eye contact, to me, means...
"I'm here with you, mom. I'm OK."
It's strange, but I hope one day Brody is sitting in his principal's office and being asked to "look someone in the eye." Because when he does, he will re-define what connection really means to us all.
This past week I met with one particular student who was disrespectful and disruptive with several members of my staff. I called her into my office to discuss her behavior and basically to find out,
"What's up with this?"
I noticed that during the conversation she refused to look at me. I kept asking her to "look me in the eye."
"Now, why should I do that?" She asked me.
"Because it is a sign of respect," I told her. I have a very stern "teacher talk" and strict "teacher face" I use in these situations. It works like a charm. I only use it when I have to.
We had a good conversation; we left with a clean slate.
On my drive home that night, my thoughts went to my family, as they typically do.
Brody's eye contact has steadily improved over the past year. One of the first symptons of autism is scattered eye contact, among other things. It comes and goes, but mostly it is on the up and up.
Tonight was especially wonderful; Brody was very connected with all of us. I don't know if it had to do with the fact we had his cousins over tonight or that he was just in a good mood, but he was sooooo "into us" all night. It was wonderful. I used to take so much for granted with my older son. And it is unfair to compare their skills, but it is so wonderful to see "normal" behavior from Brody from time to time, like a laugh at a joke or a direct smile from ear to ear.
When I was tucking Brody in tonight, he looked straight into my eyes and smiled. He has huge brown eyes that remind me of Patrick Swayze in "Dirty Dancing." He looked right at me. His gaze lasted for about a minute. I wondered if I should grab his flash cards and start drilling words or pictures of animals, but the selfish side of me did not want to waste the connection. So instead...
"Hi Buddy...loves ya..." was all I could say.
Then he smiled, laughed uncontrollably. I smothered him with kisses and hugs. Then he covered himself in his Thomas the Tank Engine blanket.
Eye contact is a funny thing. Sometimes it means respect. Sometimes it means lust or hatred or jealousy. But with Brody everything has a new meaning, a new definition. He continually redefines words for us like joy, faith, normal, love, sorrow, passion, hope. His eye contact, to me, means...
"I'm here with you, mom. I'm OK."
It's strange, but I hope one day Brody is sitting in his principal's office and being asked to "look someone in the eye." Because when he does, he will re-define what connection really means to us all.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Baby Talk
Not sure what has gotten into Brody lately, but the boy is talkin'.
He is not reciting poetry or anything, but I have heard a series of lovely pop-out words that have gotten me very excited. These words may not mean a lot to the parent of any "typical" three year old, in fact I bet you wish they would stop talking. But to me, these words make my heart melt. Just like when I heard Destin speak for the first time, too. Although he could master puzzles and do math before he spoke real sentences...over-achiever.
"No."
Yes, the word 'no' may seem like an annoying example. And Brody has said 'no' or something like it before, but lately he has said 'no' with gusto.
"NO!"
Like the man means it. And he says it in regards to more than just food now. He says it about Frodo, taking a bath, putting on shoes, taking medicine, anything. Just like any crazy kid would.
"I'm Mad!"
He said it! Plain as day while Matt and I stripped him down for bath time this week. I plopped him in the water and after much disgust and eating the bubbles, he just yelled, "I'm mad!" Well then...so he is not only saying how he feels but in the correct context! Woot!
"Momma"
My own personal favorite. "Momma" was one of his first words. Brody said his first word at 10 months. And he just kept speaking from there. It was awesome; he was on a roll. But then the words stopped. And I went for about 2 years without hearing "Momma." Kind of broke my heart a little, but I can't stay upset. I know he knows I am his mother. Definitely. But it was nice to hear this word all week long and he would say it while looking at me or holding my hand.
"Boo-Boo!"
Now, we have no idea who or what "Boo-Boo" is in our house. My cousin Amanda, her nickname is Boo-Boo. She used to fall down a lot as a kid and get "Boo-Boos." Catchy, I know. But unless Brody is a medium with psychic powers, this obviously means something else. He says it when he is happy or excited mostly. So, I guess this is some kind of happy-go-lucky-I-am-having-fun word?
There you have it. Brody's new, regular words are coming right along. I am excited to see if they "stick." Or if they fade away in the next month. I am confident they are here to stay. But I have learned to take every good day for what it's worth and every moment to heart.
Again, Brody was sent to us so Matt and I would never take any moment for granted again. Because that one special moment, like hearing the word "Momma," may never come back.
He is not reciting poetry or anything, but I have heard a series of lovely pop-out words that have gotten me very excited. These words may not mean a lot to the parent of any "typical" three year old, in fact I bet you wish they would stop talking. But to me, these words make my heart melt. Just like when I heard Destin speak for the first time, too. Although he could master puzzles and do math before he spoke real sentences...over-achiever.
"No."
Yes, the word 'no' may seem like an annoying example. And Brody has said 'no' or something like it before, but lately he has said 'no' with gusto.
"NO!"
Like the man means it. And he says it in regards to more than just food now. He says it about Frodo, taking a bath, putting on shoes, taking medicine, anything. Just like any crazy kid would.
"I'm Mad!"
He said it! Plain as day while Matt and I stripped him down for bath time this week. I plopped him in the water and after much disgust and eating the bubbles, he just yelled, "I'm mad!" Well then...so he is not only saying how he feels but in the correct context! Woot!
"Momma"
My own personal favorite. "Momma" was one of his first words. Brody said his first word at 10 months. And he just kept speaking from there. It was awesome; he was on a roll. But then the words stopped. And I went for about 2 years without hearing "Momma." Kind of broke my heart a little, but I can't stay upset. I know he knows I am his mother. Definitely. But it was nice to hear this word all week long and he would say it while looking at me or holding my hand.
"Boo-Boo!"
Now, we have no idea who or what "Boo-Boo" is in our house. My cousin Amanda, her nickname is Boo-Boo. She used to fall down a lot as a kid and get "Boo-Boos." Catchy, I know. But unless Brody is a medium with psychic powers, this obviously means something else. He says it when he is happy or excited mostly. So, I guess this is some kind of happy-go-lucky-I-am-having-fun word?
There you have it. Brody's new, regular words are coming right along. I am excited to see if they "stick." Or if they fade away in the next month. I am confident they are here to stay. But I have learned to take every good day for what it's worth and every moment to heart.
Again, Brody was sent to us so Matt and I would never take any moment for granted again. Because that one special moment, like hearing the word "Momma," may never come back.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Meeting with our Peeps
This morning at 9AM, Matt and I were sitting at Barrett's Elementary with some of the smartest women we know. They are not lawyers or doctors or writers or scientists, they are communication specialists for ASD children, a speech pathologist, and Brody's lovely teacher Emily.
This was a meeting to discuss Brody's goals and progress...and of course what is lacking.
The good news is that he is progressing! He is very connected to the teachers in the class. He also loves the PECS activity (he has to show a picture of an item he wants before he gets the item). He does this activity with over 80% accuracy! Yeah!
He also has a series of "pop-out" words. Meaning he will randomly say a word like "Rapunzel!" or "Cheese crackers" or "Budweiser!" (I know, nice.)
Other good things...he excels on the playground, no gross motor delays to report. He climbs, runs, plays, tumbles, with ease.
He is also sitting for circle, the entire time, and loves music time...they said me smiles and dances for the music which is very assuring that he is aware of his surroundings. He is very connected to his teachers; he loves on them, hugs them, wants kisses. He also started "fist bumps" i.e. Howie Mandel style. He does this on cue.
The main challenge is his ability to focus on one thing at a time. He also needs help with fine motor activities like cutting with scissors, zipping his coat, buttons, etc. He is good at lacing, though. He also does EVERYTHING but speak when he wants something. He plays a constant game of charades for his needs.
So he will stand by the coats and jump around when he wants to play outside instead of saying
"Hey, I want out lady..let's get to business!"
He will try and open his crackers himself with his teeth instead of asking for help.
He'll get the actual juice container from the frig and hand it to us instead of asking for juide (well sometimes he says "juice" probably 3 times a day). He'll get a game or DVD out of the cabinet instead of asking for it, etc.
So, everything but communicate verbally.
Then we moved onto what concerns 'we' the parents have for him...and for me, it is building relationships with other children.
Brody loves teenagers. He loves parents and grandparents, aunt and uncles. But not other small children. They freak him out. Too unpredictable (can you blame him?). He does play really well they Destin; they are BFF.
I really could care less about academic progress right now..yeah that's right I said it.
I don't care about academics with my 3 year old kid....colors, numbers, shapes...I don't give a sh**.
So what if he does not know that stuff right now? He WILL.
Would it be awesome if he could recite his ABC's? Heck yeah. But I cannot dwell on the fact that some kids can and he can't...yet.
I would be torturing myself if every day I thought about we he 'cannot do.' I am only human though...I do tear up when I see other small children holding conversations with their parents. It does hurt to see other "normal" children at play...sort of feels like my chest is caving in...but again, I cannot focus on these negative thoughts; I would go insane. And a crazy momma is not a good momma. I have to keep it together for Brody's sake...and for my husband.
Am I thrilled at those baby videos of 18 month olds reciting the Gettysburg Address? Yes, of course. But really, is it necessary for a 2 year old to know mulitplication tables or the value of a dime? Ummm nope. It's not like they are entering Harvard right after they are potty-trained. We have some time.
I would be more thrilled if Brody made a best friend or said his own name, or maybe an "I love you, mommy!" I mean, who gives a rip if he knows the alphabet...what if he can't sing it with his buddies?
The day he says "I love you" for the first time, will be the best day of my life. Right up there with my wedding day and the birthdays of my boys. That is my own goal for him. To say what he feels, wants, and needs in actual words. That is my goal for him.
And then there's Matt. Matt has NEVER missed a meeting about Brody. In fact, he has never missed anything when our boys are concerned: not a parent-teacher conference, not a doctor's appointment. I am so lucky. Without our marriage, and its strength, I do not know where I would be...probably in a corner crying over buckets of ice cream and other drugs.
So, the meeting today went very well. I left in a great mood and I left wanting to hold Brody even tighter. And tell Destin what an amazing big brother he is to Brody. Now if we could just get him off the shelves and keep him dressed...we would be in good shape.
This was a meeting to discuss Brody's goals and progress...and of course what is lacking.
The good news is that he is progressing! He is very connected to the teachers in the class. He also loves the PECS activity (he has to show a picture of an item he wants before he gets the item). He does this activity with over 80% accuracy! Yeah!
He also has a series of "pop-out" words. Meaning he will randomly say a word like "Rapunzel!" or "Cheese crackers" or "Budweiser!" (I know, nice.)
Other good things...he excels on the playground, no gross motor delays to report. He climbs, runs, plays, tumbles, with ease.
He is also sitting for circle, the entire time, and loves music time...they said me smiles and dances for the music which is very assuring that he is aware of his surroundings. He is very connected to his teachers; he loves on them, hugs them, wants kisses. He also started "fist bumps" i.e. Howie Mandel style. He does this on cue.
The main challenge is his ability to focus on one thing at a time. He also needs help with fine motor activities like cutting with scissors, zipping his coat, buttons, etc. He is good at lacing, though. He also does EVERYTHING but speak when he wants something. He plays a constant game of charades for his needs.
So he will stand by the coats and jump around when he wants to play outside instead of saying
"Hey, I want out lady..let's get to business!"
He will try and open his crackers himself with his teeth instead of asking for help.
He'll get the actual juice container from the frig and hand it to us instead of asking for juide (well sometimes he says "juice" probably 3 times a day). He'll get a game or DVD out of the cabinet instead of asking for it, etc.
So, everything but communicate verbally.
Then we moved onto what concerns 'we' the parents have for him...and for me, it is building relationships with other children.
Brody loves teenagers. He loves parents and grandparents, aunt and uncles. But not other small children. They freak him out. Too unpredictable (can you blame him?). He does play really well they Destin; they are BFF.
I really could care less about academic progress right now..yeah that's right I said it.
I don't care about academics with my 3 year old kid....colors, numbers, shapes...I don't give a sh**.
So what if he does not know that stuff right now? He WILL.
Would it be awesome if he could recite his ABC's? Heck yeah. But I cannot dwell on the fact that some kids can and he can't...yet.
I would be torturing myself if every day I thought about we he 'cannot do.' I am only human though...I do tear up when I see other small children holding conversations with their parents. It does hurt to see other "normal" children at play...sort of feels like my chest is caving in...but again, I cannot focus on these negative thoughts; I would go insane. And a crazy momma is not a good momma. I have to keep it together for Brody's sake...and for my husband.
Am I thrilled at those baby videos of 18 month olds reciting the Gettysburg Address? Yes, of course. But really, is it necessary for a 2 year old to know mulitplication tables or the value of a dime? Ummm nope. It's not like they are entering Harvard right after they are potty-trained. We have some time.
I would be more thrilled if Brody made a best friend or said his own name, or maybe an "I love you, mommy!" I mean, who gives a rip if he knows the alphabet...what if he can't sing it with his buddies?
The day he says "I love you" for the first time, will be the best day of my life. Right up there with my wedding day and the birthdays of my boys. That is my own goal for him. To say what he feels, wants, and needs in actual words. That is my goal for him.
And then there's Matt. Matt has NEVER missed a meeting about Brody. In fact, he has never missed anything when our boys are concerned: not a parent-teacher conference, not a doctor's appointment. I am so lucky. Without our marriage, and its strength, I do not know where I would be...probably in a corner crying over buckets of ice cream and other drugs.
So, the meeting today went very well. I left in a great mood and I left wanting to hold Brody even tighter. And tell Destin what an amazing big brother he is to Brody. Now if we could just get him off the shelves and keep him dressed...we would be in good shape.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Destin is a Nerd. And that's OK.
About 2 weeks ago, I got a call from Destin's school about some concerning "behaviors" he was displaying in class.
His teacher explained that he frequently:
- Focused and obsessed on race cars, drew pictures of them, talked about them a lot, would make paper ones and race them in class.
- Avoided group activities and preferred to play alone or color/read.
- Preferred to talk to her than the other kids at times
- Loved math and played games with numbers
- Discussed the date and the weather in class.
- Remembered dates and was very smart with numbers, but not so much with writing.
As the conversation continued, the child psychologist for the school got on the phone and explained she wanted to have Destin tested for...wait for it...wait..Autism.
Yes, that's right. You heard here first.
The shrink (I am only saying "shrink" because it takes less time to type) said these behaviors are sure signs of ASD and that he probably only had a "slight case of autism."
A slight case of autism is like being a little bit pregnant.
I remained very calm on the phone and explained that we had a child with an ASD diagnosis. I told her I was more concerned with Destin's anxiety about school than with his preference to play alone or talk about cars, etc. The shrink said she knew about Brody from Destin's teacher. They were aware and just wanted to "play it safe" and run some tests and observations in class. She said to look for the consent forms in his backpack.
Then she hung up.
So, of course I shook like a leaf...called my mother, called my husband, my sister, my dad. Cried, yelled, screamed. All of that stuff. I called my friends, who are also educators, and asked for guidance.
Katie Hensler, if you are reading, you are a GODSEND. A true friend.
Why can't people just leave my kids alone?
Now, I understand all of this awareness is a very good thing. Believe me. I have been there and back and back again. I know his teachers CARE deeply for Destin. And it is wonderful. Destin's teacher is a sweetheart and I love talking to her. She has a great sense of humor, a lot of energy. She loves him.
We are so lucky. This post is in no way an angry letter to her...
But seriously...autism? Because he LOVES race cars, NASCAR, bowling, and is painfully shy in large groups, he has ASD?
So, I did what any good mother would do in this case. I immediately called our amazing neurologists,
Dr. Rothman and Dr. Mantovani and made an appointment at Mercy Hospital.
Boo-Yah.
The appointment was yesterday. And after an hour of questioning Destin Boland, making him do a series of "tricks" (as I call them) and other cognitive tasks, Dr. Rothman concluded that...
Destin is a Nerd.
Now he did not say those words exactly, but I knew what he was thinking.
He said Destin is very "unique" and has some quirks, but does NOT in ANY WAY have ASD or any spectrum disorder. Period.
Was I relieved? Of course. Who wouldn't be?
Am I angry at his teacher or the child shrink at school?
Nope. They just love my kid.
I let his teacher know the doc gave him a clean bill of health...if they still want to test, fine, go ahead. It won't change a thing.
It's really time we celebrate our kid's differences...I love the fact that Destin is in love with NASCAR, is great at Math, and is very tidy. I think it's OK if he prefers to play alone sometimes...he has 2 good little friends at school that he hangs out with and you know what? That's more than most kids have these days. And they are great kids. Destin is not afraid to be different. What more could a mother ask for?
Destin is my little Nerd and I would never have it any other way.
His teacher explained that he frequently:
- Focused and obsessed on race cars, drew pictures of them, talked about them a lot, would make paper ones and race them in class.
- Avoided group activities and preferred to play alone or color/read.
- Preferred to talk to her than the other kids at times
- Loved math and played games with numbers
- Discussed the date and the weather in class.
- Remembered dates and was very smart with numbers, but not so much with writing.
As the conversation continued, the child psychologist for the school got on the phone and explained she wanted to have Destin tested for...wait for it...wait..Autism.
Yes, that's right. You heard here first.
The shrink (I am only saying "shrink" because it takes less time to type) said these behaviors are sure signs of ASD and that he probably only had a "slight case of autism."
A slight case of autism is like being a little bit pregnant.
I remained very calm on the phone and explained that we had a child with an ASD diagnosis. I told her I was more concerned with Destin's anxiety about school than with his preference to play alone or talk about cars, etc. The shrink said she knew about Brody from Destin's teacher. They were aware and just wanted to "play it safe" and run some tests and observations in class. She said to look for the consent forms in his backpack.
Then she hung up.
So, of course I shook like a leaf...called my mother, called my husband, my sister, my dad. Cried, yelled, screamed. All of that stuff. I called my friends, who are also educators, and asked for guidance.
Katie Hensler, if you are reading, you are a GODSEND. A true friend.
Why can't people just leave my kids alone?
Now, I understand all of this awareness is a very good thing. Believe me. I have been there and back and back again. I know his teachers CARE deeply for Destin. And it is wonderful. Destin's teacher is a sweetheart and I love talking to her. She has a great sense of humor, a lot of energy. She loves him.
We are so lucky. This post is in no way an angry letter to her...
But seriously...autism? Because he LOVES race cars, NASCAR, bowling, and is painfully shy in large groups, he has ASD?
So, I did what any good mother would do in this case. I immediately called our amazing neurologists,
Dr. Rothman and Dr. Mantovani and made an appointment at Mercy Hospital.
Boo-Yah.
The appointment was yesterday. And after an hour of questioning Destin Boland, making him do a series of "tricks" (as I call them) and other cognitive tasks, Dr. Rothman concluded that...
Destin is a Nerd.
Now he did not say those words exactly, but I knew what he was thinking.
He said Destin is very "unique" and has some quirks, but does NOT in ANY WAY have ASD or any spectrum disorder. Period.
Was I relieved? Of course. Who wouldn't be?
Am I angry at his teacher or the child shrink at school?
Nope. They just love my kid.
I let his teacher know the doc gave him a clean bill of health...if they still want to test, fine, go ahead. It won't change a thing.
It's really time we celebrate our kid's differences...I love the fact that Destin is in love with NASCAR, is great at Math, and is very tidy. I think it's OK if he prefers to play alone sometimes...he has 2 good little friends at school that he hangs out with and you know what? That's more than most kids have these days. And they are great kids. Destin is not afraid to be different. What more could a mother ask for?
Destin is my little Nerd and I would never have it any other way.
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