MAE: Giggles at the Grocery Store

So, I really, really, really wanted to write a cute, light post here today. Lucky for me, my daughter presented me with just that today.

We hit the local farmer's market (she does much better here--less crowded, more open space, no loudspeakers, etc.), she was in a great mood. Ya can't ask for more than that! At one point, halfway through our shopping excursion, I brushed some hair off my cheek and felt something odd on my earlobe. I touched it, and then suddenly realized I had those fake stick-on earrings on both my ears! Earlier in the day, my daughter had come up to me and stuck them on my ears. It was such a cute gesture, I left them there...and completely forgot I had them on! I can only imagine what the other shoppers thought (who, by that point, I had come in contact with more than a handful!). One was a light pink heart, the other an orange star--and both were prismatic, and very shiny.

I laughed so hard in the aisle after realizing this. My daughter got upset as I took them off, so I assured her I loved them and would put them on later (thankfully, she forgot!). This tops the day she put Cinderella stickers on each of my nails. The look the drive-thru cashier gave me was priceless when she spotted my 'manicure.'

I can only wonder what the next Mommy Makeover will be...

My Autism Everyday: Lucky. Indeed.

"I feel lucky because I have an autistic sister."

While words don't seem necessary for this picture, I feel I must add some information. I fear this type of imagery might bother some folks. For starters, this assignment was done by my eldest, at school. I had no idea such a project was coming up, and didn't learn about it until it was sent home a few days ago. Just so those doubters know, I didn't suggest this to my child, there was never any discussion about it. My daughter completed this at school, and never mentioned it to me. Each child in class was given a clover to write what they feel lucky about. These were then displayed in their room.

When I first saw this, I felt mixed emotions. I was taken aback that that is what my daughter would choose to feel lucky for. Simply because when it comes down to it, she could have chosen her friends, material objects, summer vacations--anything. Also, since she has expressed some sadness about her sister--how at times she feels that her little sister doesn't love her, and is sometimes confused as to why her sister acts the way she does.

We've always had an honest and open dialogue with our eldest. We've never hidden things from her. The day we received the autism diagnosis, we sat down with her and told her. In an appropriate manner, we explained how "autism" simply gave a name to how her sister was. That it didn't change her, it wasn't a sickness, this wouldn't mean more hospital stays. We also told her that autism wasn't the reason for everything her sister does--that sometimes, her little sister is simply being a little sister (aka a pain in the butt to big sis!). We gave her a book, I've mentioned it before.

From there on in, we've always welcomed conversations with her. We don't judge her, and let her work through whatever emotions she is feeling. We are also always sure to let her know that having any brother or sister is not a cake walk. My husband and I relay stories of growing up with 4 siblings a piece, and the drama involved in that. We always give her perspective, we avoid pity parties, but we also always listen with an open ear, and give her plenty of reassurance. She's been upset at times, feeling her sister gets more of our time than her (the remedy was extra effort on our part to have "dates" with her, just her and I or she and my husband). We've made a special bin in her room, for her to go to when her sister is having a bad (loud) meltdown (she has an mp3 player with headphones, arts & crafts stuff, etc.). See, despite what some think, we are realists. We don't skip along, being oblivious to how autism affects our autistic daughter, her sister, or our family. We do our best, we are honest and open, we are not ashamed, we choose to focus on the positive, and look forward always.

Given all of that, and simply the difficulty I see in their day to day interactions, this clover was quite a surprise. Trust me, there are plenty of sweet and tender moments between them. Our oldest has been the best "teacher" for our youngest. Our little one has quite a patient, bright, and loving big sister, and we are so grateful. I never thought I'd hear my daughter say she felt lucky to have her little sister. My surprise moved to pride. Words can't express how amazed I am at my daughter's perspective on her sister, and on people in general. I also felt proud of my husband and I, obviously we are doing something right.

From their, a tinge of embarrassment grew. I, quite frankly, felt odd and wondered what her teacher, and anyone else who saw this clover would think. Like my husband said, jokingly, "maybe we sold it [autism] a little too well." A few days ago, I was volunteering at the school. I was speaking to the Life Skills teacher and she was telling me how much she loves my little one. My older daughter's teacher passed by, and we met up further down the hall. She asked if I had seen the clover. I told her I had, and how sweet I thought it was. She said she was so moved by that, and how wonderful it is to see how much my daughter loves her little sister. Hearing the teacher's take on this clover, made me realize I had no need to be embarrassed or feel awkward over it. My daughter, at her young age, is herself changing people's minds and advocating for her younger sibling. Does it really get any better for that?

Autism: The Musical

I watched it tonight on HBO. Well, actually I just got done watching it on my DVR. If not for that, I'd never catch a show on television (other than what my daughters choose!). Just before the "opening night" in the film, my daughter started screaming. I went to her room, she was screaming over something I wasn't able to make sense of. I picked her up and she settled down. I brought her into the living room, continued watching Autism: The Musical. She rested beside me, and fell back asleep. Just as the movie was ending, she says, "that was good movie." I guess she heard the audience applaud, and figured it must be good! She then went on to talk about a "pop" that "boke" (she unexpectedly got to the tootsie part of a tootsie pop the other day, it quite disturbed her!). This morning, she woke up screaming over her trike that needs some repairs. I'm always amazed at how much is going through her mind, at all times. I digress, back to the film (little one is now back to sleep in her room--for now)

I loved a lot about the film, there were some parent's views I disagreed with (what else is new). I'm at the point where I am well aware that I won't agree with all the people all the time. I've even reached a stage where I don't care so much what someone else's views are, so long as their concerns and goals are in tune with mine. I am more than willing to work with someone who blames vaccines for their child's autism, IF we are working to get say, a vocational program for adult autistics. We can all have our various beliefs, so long as we are moving forward, with our child's future being the utmost concern. I was able to watch this film, and appreciate it as a whole--even with the few sound bites I'd prefer not be a part of it. All in all, I felt it was an upbeat movie, one that celebrated autism (in its many forms!). It was wonderful to see so much of the spectrum depicted--verbal and nonverbal, asperger's and classic autism, boys and girls, many snapshots of autism.

I also liked that a recurring theme was the future for our children, what opportunities and services they may (or may not) have available to them. Hopefully, it can serve as a stepping stone for more of us to come together, to change our children's futures. There were a few absolutely wonderful moments in the movie, and I appreciated the rawness of the parent's emotions (without being dark and disturbing ala that other Autism "documentary"). I applaud the children and their families, who essentially went where others had never dared gone before. I have deep respect for Elaine Hall, who with humor and bravery followed through on her dream. Honestly--who would believe that a single mom could pull together a group of children (did I mention they are autistic?), and in six months have them perform in a musical?

According to their website, The Miracle Project (which will at some point have information on nutrition and education, something I may be weary of, we shall see) is planning on branching out to different cities. Right now, you can buy various packages (script, music, etc.) to put on your own "Autism: The Musical." I would be delighted to see such a program available to my daughter in the years to come. I think other projects involving art and music would also be wonderful as well; they could prove to be very beneficial to autistic teens. I am going to bed tonight, feeling a bit more positive about the future of autistics. If one person can create a program like The Miracle Project, and make such an impact--what can the rest of us do?

Scary Huge Dora Doll (Cute Story)

I am going to try and add some personal stories and some funny bits to this blog. I want to not only be a "mom on a mission" but also to celebrate my child, and let the world in on what my vast reality is. Just an fyi... :)

So, the other day, my daughter and I are at a department store (or the "market" as she refers to it). We are walking up and down the toy aisles, as this is something she enjoys, second only to the produce section. Many things are catching her eye. I happen to look up & see an extremely large Dora the Explorer doll. When I say large, this doll is 34" tall, with a massive noggin. This picture just doesn't do it justice:

So, I tell my daughter to look up. She jumps & smiles, shouts "WOAH!!" She can't get over this large creation. I laugh, as the doll is ridiculous, and my daughter's reaction is priceless! My daughter continues to jump and walk all over the aisle, eying the big doll, making all sorts of noises. Passerbys are smiling at her. She assures me "no want dat!" Later she adds, "dah fuh montuh!! (that's for a monster!). She gets so extremely excited over this Dora doll. Minutes passed as we stood in that aisle, this gigantic doll gave my daughter and I such joy on our little shopping trip. Who would have ever guessed?

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