Orange County Moms Blog

Making sense of autism (when there's no sense to be made)

Order. You dream of it.   Limbs would be traded for it, and  life span would be bartered  if it could be known with any permanence. In the last few years, learning to stop striving for it has been a life lesson.  Because life is ever-changing, and unpredictable. Like dominoes falling haphazardly, circumstances cannot be controlled. 

Order is desired, but rarely found. Ducks do not walk in a row. Life is a mystery, and why becomes even more confusing.  Neuroses are a puzzle. Your need to make lists, carry out plans, and decide fates is strong. The need to organize the way things will be is overwhelming.  Self-constructed boxes line up neatly on the shelf, thank you. Yes, add more dominoes, if necessary. The need for knowledge, something to make sense of the pile of blocks you have been given..necessary.

Autism Spectrum Disorder is every day.  And that is what it is: DISORDER. It doesn’t live in boxes.  Boxes are created, and nothing fits in them.  And the things that do fit, never stay in the boxes for long.   The quirks of children; the faces of autism.  Those qualities that must be accepted, or die trying. A young daughter cannot play without singing. The noise level is constant. The only time she is quiet is when cuddling her or when she is asleep.  A son is constant in his need to discuss whatever his favorite subject is at the moment. Once you point it out to him, he can stop, but he will talk about it again, sooner rather than later. And then apologizes for forgetting the subject was done. If the phone rings, do not ask the oldest to answer it.  She can’t do the phone.  It’s a thing. If pushed, she will freeze and run from the room.  Tears may follow. Meltdowns are imminent.   Quirks.  They all have them.  Learning that no matter how much you want it changed it is what it is.

What is the value of a dollar anyway?

It was one of those moments as a mom that I found myself wondering if this is one of those battles I needed to pick.

I had trusted the boys to take $5 in cash to reload their lunch accounts that morning, something I had never let them do on their own before.  I was in a rush that morning and didn't have time to go by the school office myself and the boys reassured me it wasn't a problem.  I handed them each a $5 bill and watched as they tucked them deep in to their pockets.  As I dropped them off at the gate I reminded them to head straight to the office to put the money on their accounts.  "Yes, Mom, we know, we know" was repeated back to me over and over again. 

My mother's intuition was going off like no other.  I knew this wasn't going to go smoothly.

Me, and My Projects

I have days where (I feel) that I am failing miserably at being a mother. Like last weekend, for instance. A simple Sunday outing turned in to my youngest crying the entire time and my eldest asking me why our day was being ruined by him. There was nothing I could do really to make the day better. Well, except go home and put my little one down for a nap.

But it seems that whenever I have these epic failure days I turn to projects to redeem myself. Can't succeed at parenthood? Well, I can certainly succeed at completing a project!

I have a long track record of this. When I was having trouble coping with the fact that my eldest had a speech delay and was being evaluated for therapy benefits, I turned to scrap booking. When I was feeling frustrated with my tennis game last summer, I turned to painting my master bedroom a few different colors before settling on a new color! If I'm frustrated with my career, I'll make new pillows for the couch! 

I left my heart in Cali!

This past week I made a trip outside of California in a long time.  My very first trip, alone.  On a plane.  Yes, I left my kids and hubby to go to Miami for 2 days to have the time of my life.  I've been anticipating this trip since February and I have to tell you that nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to experience.  My eldest is 11.  I have never left him to go on a trip anywhere, much less my younger kids.   But here I was... leaving them and my husband for the very first time.

Since I would be gone 2 whole days, my to-do list was 5000 miles long (no exaggeration at all!) I wanted to leave everything ready for whoever was taking care of the kids.  For my hubby, I ironed his uniforms for the next three days.  I left complete outfits (also ironed) for the kids.  I left dinner ready for when my husband would come home on Wednesday.  He took the day off on Thursday, so I prepared Breakfast and lunch for him and the kids.  All he had to do was cook dinner (that I had left ready to cook).  My Boy Scout was leaving for camp on Friday, so I helped him pack for that.  I think I got more exhausted preparing for my departure from them, than I did for the whole trip!

An Eerie "No Phone Zone" Message

I will admit, I have a love affair going with my iPhone. The thing is amazing.  It has been totally life changing for me as a stay-at-home mom blogger juggling a lot at one time. Emails, texts, tweets, Facebook updates - it is all right at my fingertips! If I hear that fun little ding that I got a new message, it takes everything in me to not check it immediately. It has gotten to be addicting in that way.  But what that has also meant is I got in the habit of also checking it when I was at stoplights behind the wheel of a car until it took an eerie "No Phone Zone" message from my 4-year-old to slap me in the face.

Let me be clear, I NEVER text and drive, but I will take a call or make a call (hands-free, but still) or check my phone at red lights, which requires me to glance down at it.  One time someone behind me had to honk because the light turned green and I was looking at my phone. I felt embarrassed that I was so obviously distracted and had that twinge of a feeling that I should really be more careful. 

Welcome to the strip club

When my mom heard her small Orange County hometown of Placentia mentioned on National News her ears perked up. What she wasn't expecting was the topic - Controversial dance performed by 8-year-olds to the tune of Beyonce's "Single Ladies." She called me right away and I got a YouTube link in an email later that day from one of my closest childhood friends who danced for the now infamous Precision Dance Studio.

Much of my childhood was spent in dance studios learning routines and nursing blistered toes, so my first impression of the provocative routine was "Wow, those little girls can dance!" Then the mom part of me highlighted the word little. Though the dance is an amazing display of their talent and hard work, if you put boobs into their lingerie-like tops (yes, lingerie) the routine would fit right in at an Vegas strip club (not that I've ever been to a Vegas strip club).

The one where I get schooled..again

Homeschooling can be a lot of fun. What? Stop laughing, no really. I mean, the times I lie awake at night worried that my son can't do Algebra and my daughter can't read well enough are just a million laughs. The stress and responsibility I feel when it seems the kids cannot function academically, socially or behaviorally the way I believe they should, well, it makes me want to drink. And I am not talking about Tang or Milk here, either. Send Mama a martini!

Often, though, when I feel like I have reached my limit…when I think I am doing my children a great disservice by schooling them at home and that they would be better off in a public school setting, with all of its weaknesses and the lack of placement for higher-functioning autism/Asperger's? Well,the kids go and make cognitive leaps, seemingly overnight. Almost like they have to prove me wrong. They show me that it isn't that bad, and that it always gets better. Or, you drink. Something the kids didn't show me. And just an aside, I talk about drinking, but do very little of it. It doesn't make a very good coping mechanism, to be honest. Karate works better. And yoga. And screaming. In the car, with the windows up. By myself. I tried it once with the kids in the car, and they flipped out. Thought I grew two heads. Note to self: save the theatrics for alone time, mama!

Finding Perfection in the Imperfect Moments

This year for Mother’s Day my husband asked me what I wanted to do. I thought about it and told him I would love to take the girls down to Laguna Beach, walk around a bit and then get a margarita with chips and guac at the Hotel Laguna on the deck. Perfection. 

I romanticize about my Laguna outing all week and finally the day arrives.  We pack up the car for what could be a week.  The STUFF necessary to pack for kids on any given outing astounds me.  Cheerios?  Check.  Dipes? Check. Stroller? Check.  Baby food? Check. On and on… But we get packed up, loaded up, and on our way.

As we approach Laguna it seems like everyone and their mother (no pun intended) had the same idea.  Lots and lots of people and lots of traffic. But what was I expecting? After all, it was a GORGEOUS afternoon and we live in Orange County.  

Our 4 year old falls asleep in car just as we approach Main Beach.  Great.  But, turns out she gets a good catnap because it took forever to find parking. We finally find a spot, several blocks up a hill, and get unloaded. I am in new flip flops that are super cute, but aren’t quite broken in, so the hill is looking a bit daunting.  But I suck it up as I feel a blister forming.  It’s my perfect afternoon so I walk with a smile! 

Radical Parenting

I practice unconventional parenting.  I co-sleep, wear my baby, breastfeed until we (not I) decide to stop, and discipline with love (not my hand).  Apparently, I need a support group, because my style of parenting is among Discovery Health's Top Ten List of Radical Parenting Methods (did you hear me sigh?!?).

I attended a wellness event over the weekend, targeted towards expectant and new parents.  One of the exhibitors was a support group for attachment parents, which partially confused me, and mostly frustrated me. Is my way of parenting (advocated by one of the nation's most renowned pediatricians) so extreme...so far out there that I need a support group?

I firmly believe in the power of support groups.  When people with the same views, characteristics, or interests get together to share experiences, education and understanding can take place.  But according to Wikipedia, a support group is typically initiated for a group of people with a characteristic that is often "burdensome."  And the overall view of support groups is in line with this definition.  Which has me wondering, what is so burdensome about being an attachment parent?

The Anti-Craft

I should've known something like this would happen. Kindergarten was just going too smoothly.

I could deal with the worksheets that came home, with the letter of the week to trace and pictures to cut out and glue to the paper. 

Even the special "decorate your own snowman" assignment this winter was no problem, as the teacher provided the circles to cut out and my son decorated it all by himself.

We're in the home stretch now, people. Just over a month to go.

That's why that little blue paper in my son's folder the other day was such a shock. A slap in the face, really.

It's a project. An art project "for you to complete with your child." Which we all know really means "attempt to show up all the other moms by doing a multi-media presentation."