Showing posts with label ASD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ASD. Show all posts

Friday, September 4, 2009

Haiku Friday: Spectrum Parents

Haiku Friday


Friday already?
Blame it on birthday party --
I forgot to post!!

A rare chance for friends
to relax, chat openly
about spectrum kids.

Love to do again,
maybe a monthly playdate
for Nesters and friends?

We all understand
that our kids do their own thing,
then circle back in.



Would you like to haiku today? To participate in Haiku Friday, just follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. It or they can be part or all of your post, but your post must include a haiku. What's a haiku, you ask? Hint: 5-7-5. More info: Click here. Or here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON'T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Please leave a comment after linking, thanks! (Eventually the Mr Linky links go away, I think, so they only way we'll find you in the future is via your comment.)

4. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top of this post.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will carry on the esteemed tradition of deleting any links without haiku!

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Beach Spectrum

We went to the beach Monday with some friends; check out the bizarrely funny video of DB "sand swimming."

It was great to go with other people -- 2 other adults plus 3 kids. Not only was I able to enjoy going in the ocean -- did it ever feel good on a 90+ day! -- while DB stayed at the blanket with someone, but also I was able to go in the water with a little kid and watch her enjoy the waves.

My friend's youngest daughter, who's I think 4, was a little unsure about the water's edge. I asked her if she'd take my hand and just put our toes in. She readily agreed, so in we went. After standing together for a minute I sat down, still holding her hand, and soon she made up a game of sitting down when each wave came in and then standing back up. She was giggling and laughing and thoroughly enjoying herself in a way DB rarely does. (He wouldn't go in the water at all Monday.)

It made me feel good about myself that I had a good idea, to hold hands at the edge, and was able to help her feel secure enough to enjoy the experience (she was soaked by the end!). Because sometimes, a lot of sometimes, I wonder what I'm doing wrong with DB.

It was good to reminded that it's more him than me.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Interpreting the World

Christina's post about her husband telling her how much younger she looked on a weekend away from the kids remind me of the way Husband says I am a different person the minute we get in the car after dropping DuckyBoy off at Grandma's for a night.

It's true. Though a weekly night out is restorative, it's not as deep as when I know I have more than a couple of hours off. When I not only don't have to deal with bedtime, but also no morning hassles either, I can relax and have a drink or two without feeling like I'm going to kick myself at 7 am the next day for feeling less than 100 percent. (Becuase it's usually like less than 60 percent. I'm almost never at 100 percent in the morning anyway.) And also that I'll be free to sleep until 9 or 10 and then kick myself at my leisure, without having to do so while driving 37 Matchbox cars through their car wash in a prescribed order.

Probably all moms feel like that, but I wonder if it may have something to do with having a child on the autism spectrum as well: As I commented on Christina's post, I realized that I spend much of my energy helping interpret the world to my son, and more interpreting him to the world.

Granted, I do less of the second part now that he's getting older. I'm simply not with him to be able to do so, which sometimes I'm sure is good and other times is a bit frustrating, and I wonder if I'm making much ado about nothing.

But just last week in the school cafeteria, a boy in another first-grade class who is friends with one of DB's classmates said to DB, "You know me..." and DB said simply, "No, I don't," and got up to walk away.

I was so caught off-guard I didn't have the presence of mind to make DB come back and practice saying something more socially acceptable. (Anyway, what does one teach a 6-year-old to say in this situation ???)

And frankly, I knew it was going to be fruitless for any of us to argue with him or try to convince him he does know this other guy, and I don't know if he does or not, so I let him go -- and explained to the boy that often, DB does not recognize people when they are in a different situation than the one in which he knows them. He gave me kind of a blank look, so I'm not sure if that made sense to him, but I hoped he understood I was trying to explain instead of make an excuse.

Now that I'm writing this up I'm not so sure. And I think I can feel another hair turning gray...

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Church and Autism, Part 3

The church we have been attending (more on that wording later) has just released a newly revised set of guidelines for playing in the gym after church. They have published guidelines several times, and each time they get more restrictive in the name of safety.

Among them are:
  • No more scooters.
  • The trikes are for "kindergarten and younger."
  • The gym will close at 1 pm.
  • While no paid or volunteer personnel will be on hand to supervise, there will be a volunteer at the door to remind everyone of the rules.
1. If the trikes can be out, why not the scooters? Just asking.

2. While the trike age is a bit arbitrary - why K and not 1st grade? or why not use a weight or age guideline? - I do understand it on 2 levels. One, several of the the much-bigger boys (age 11 or so) like to commandeer the trikes and are a nuisance for the littlest kids in the room. Two, choosing K was probaly an easy call in that the weekday school those trikes are there for goes up to kindergarten.

Unfortunately, though, one of the main things DB likes about the gym is riding the trikes and scooters.

And, as Husband pointed out, using the age of the school as the rule inverts the way the relationship between the school and the church is supposed to be: The school is supposed to support the church, not vice-versa.

3. Closing at 1 is probably because the paid church staff is supposed to be able to lock up and go home at 1. (That's my theory anyway.) Last week was a lovely February day so people lingered until after 2 in the outdoor playground. So deputize one of the parents to lock up!

4. If someone can be there to police the rules at the door, um... why can't there be someone there? The wording was odd on that anyway--"staff and church school volunteers will no longer be available..." As far as I know there never was anyone scheduled to be there. When DB would go to the gym before we had finished speaking with people at coffee hour, I knew he was there "at his own risk," as it were.

Frankly, the main reason I'm not going to service this week is because I don't want to break the rules, again, on the first day they are announced. If safety is really the primary concern, just don't even open the gym.

I don't want DB to be the exception, the one first-grader on the trikes. And I don't want to have to pick between 2 separate after-church events:
  1. Coffee hour for those without children and those whose children want to sit at the child tables and have a child-approved snack. (Children are not allowed to take the food from the "adult" coffee hour tables; DB almost had his wrist slapped by the paid church staffer who sets up coffee hour, and she is is entirely unapologetic about shooing the kids from that food. They are given goldfish and animal crackers and that is good enough for them.)
  2. And an after-church open play in the gym for parents of Those Other Children who need to run around. No food, no coffee.
I don't say "our church" since our distance from the physical plant makes me feel like an outsider. Husband said the only way to change this situation would probably be to get all the parents together and figure out some other way to handle the concerns -- rotate volunteers in the gym, offer to lock up ourselves, or whatever.

But we're too far away to spearhead the kind of meetings that requires. We're also not part of the local-school crowd. It's going to be harder for us to make friends with the other parents because we have less in common. (Now that I think of it, you'd think that raising our kids as Christians would be a common factor, right? Not a lot of openness there about issues like that.)

Frankly, we only came back to this church because we wanted to be somewhere, and haven't found one closer to home yet. But this isn't the way to be family friendly. (And, I'm sure it's parents, church members, who keep revising these rules!)

I know churches aren't perfect. We just need one where the 3 of us can all live with the imperfections.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Janny'tizers recipe

DuckyBoy loves to eat chicken nuggets. His absolute favorites are Tyson Any'tizers, which are bite-sized so every bite has a solid coating around it.

In the past we've had trouble eating out because the diners' version of nuggets are usually much larger than even standard kid nuggets -- "fingers" -- so each bite has much less coating, and also they are often made with real chicken breast, not processed, homogenized meat. (we can't do fast-food nuggets at all since they all have whey in the coating. He'll eat fast-food burgers but not at the diners. Yet.)

However, he has branched out in the past few months to willingly eat the breast fingers at the diners, so I thought it was time to try again at home, particularly since his appetite has increased to the point where he can eat half a $4 box of Any'tizers for dinner, which is not only getting expensive but also just can't be good for him to eat so much processed food all.the.time.

And then I saw this recipe on the Bisquick box:


I modified it to be non-dairy. And I upped the protein portion as well, mostly just to replace the 1/2 cup Parmesan, but also because Husband tries to eat low-carb.

And guess what? For one of the first times ever, we all had the same main dish for dinner! Thank you, Bisquick!!

Church and Autism, Part 2

Anon's comment on my previous Church and Autism post was harsher than necessary (congrats! you're my very first flame!) but did open my eyes a bit. I posted because I was already feeling judged and misunderstood, so your tone did not help with that, but you did raise an issue worth addressing in my heart.

I don't see where in my previous post I say that the rules don't apply to me because my child has autism. In fact, I have always been a frightened rules-follower. But Husband takes a more cavalier approach to life's man-made, small guidelines, which has in fact helped me lead a more enjoyable life in some cases ... and in others, such as this one, puts me in a bit of a bind.

I also think the supervision issue is primarily an insurance/CYA matter; this way the church cannot be held liable for any injuries.

I also probably wrote the situation to sound more black-and-white than it really is. The older kids are only partially supervised in the gym; their parents tend to wander in and then back out (if they come in at all until it's time to leave). DB is on the cusp of needing constant supervision, and since he is a responsible, articulate child, and also not a bully who is ever aggressive toward the other children, we trust him. The two rooms are not so far apart that it's a major problem to get between them. But they are far enough that other than parents, adult flow between them is limited. If we want or need to speak with people who do not have a child in the gym, it can't happen.

The other part of our reason for letting him be there without us is that most other times, I am constantly with DB. And sometimes I would like to be with my husband -- such as when mingling with the people we know at church. The church is too far from our home to participate in many events other than worship, so our primary chance to connect with the community is from 12 to 1 on Sundays, during the coffee hour. (I could go on at length about that whole issue of finding a church closer to home, but won't right now.)

The reason I posted is because I do think something needs to be done. I don't want people to have to bend over backwards to accommodate him. And now there is a pattern of issues -- one thing here and there, I'd be ok. But as I outlined in my post, there now seems to be several areas where his behavior is problematic. This upsets me and I don't have an answer, nor did I find one when I looked around on the web.

In fact, as I've given it more thought, I realize some of these issues are being addressed during the school day as well, so would benefit from follow-up in this structed setting as well.

My one idea: I thought I'd see if any teens/tweens at the church have to do community service for their school, and could log those hours as a "buddy" for DB during the church service and gym time. I can make a list of specific things for them to help him with, including...
  • Don't blurt out the answer during the children's sermon
  • Take a walk during Sunday School if he needs a break so he's not disrupting the other kids
  • Help him understand the nuances of playing superhereo with older kids (If you say, "Let's play superheroes," the villains are going to chase you!)
Anon or anyone else, if you have other suggestions for how I might solve this matter, I welcome the ideas. I would appreciate it, though, if they are presented in the spirit of problem-solving rather than judgementalism.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Autism and Church

I wonder if my other blog should shift from Autism and Public Schools, which many people advocate and talk about and research so much better than me, to Autism and Church.

I stumbled across this idea this evening... of a focus on Autism at a church service on February 8th. I wonder if my church might be open to it.

As part of it, I would be willing to --actually, relieved to -- speak and say that DB has autism and how that manifests itself in the way he acts and thinks at church. (Wonder if Husband would be open to that...)

There is another child at church with autism and other more severe disabilities as well, which might be eye-opening for our congregation to see the spectrum.

This was our experience today:

Toward the beginning of the service, DB said "Amen" after the Lord's Prayer, and I thought how funny it is that someone who overheard him might think he was saying "Amen" to the prayer. In fact, I know he was correcting the pronunciation -- most everyone near us said "ah-men" and he prefers "ay-men".

Then during the children's sermon, as usual he was unable to keep from blurting out the answers when the minister asks them all a question. (Someone has actually commented to Husband about this. Someone with a well-behaved, hand-raising child of course.)

At least he only eyed up the communion elements as he walked past and did not try to take any. Whew!

In his Sunday School class, DuckyBoy does well sometimes and other times not, and the teacher rotates so no one quite knows how to deal with him. They are wonderful moms with good hearts but the best they can do is tolerate him for the 30 minutes. I know he's disruptive, today I get the impression he was intractible. (He's been "off" the past few days anyway, and , I forgot his snack.) He also told me tonight a boy in class told him he was a baby, or playing with a baby toy, he described what he was playing with but I don't know what it was. On the upside, he reconnected with his old friend K., and they drew pictures for each other (the project was to draw for a secret pal in the class and give them the artwork, and apparently they picked each other.)

He flat-out tells the beautifully-voiced soprano who volunteers her time to sing with them that he doesn't like her, her voice, etc. *Sigh.*

DB also got us in an embarrassing situation today after church. Kids are allowed to play in the gym during coffee hour, but, well I'll admit it, they are supposed to be supervised by their parents. He has always been good about coming to get us when he needs us, but today he got a little hurt or something ( I still don't know if it was physical or his feelings that got hurt) and while one mom tried to comfort him, another came to get us.

And, well, she had a few patronizing words for us, too, about how we "might want to keep an eye on him" ... "because he likes to play with the bigger kids and yadda yadda" and "I try to keep an eye on him because my son is there too" and "I think he's hungry" and I think Husband wanted to strangle her. (Edited to add: Later on, Husband was grateful she'd come to get us.)

Anyway, today's experience made me look around a bit on the web. Preliminary search turns up a few drips and drabs -- like a good article from 2002 about a mom and her young child, a Dad's heartfelt post that rang true for me, and a decent-sounding book, Autism and Your Church, though it may be more for my children's ministry coordinator than me.

Since I said an hour ago I was going to go to bed and since tomorrow is The Grind Begins Again Day with the 6 AM alarm, I will cease research for the night. But it's not like I came up with anything that covers the topic extensively. I think there might be a place for me.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Disappointment. Now! With Reassurance and Helpful Pats on the Back

Three children misbehaved on stage at the school concert this afternoon. Two were in pre-k, and no one expects much of the four-year-olds. One was my first grader.

At least the people around me chuckled when DB acted out. So it's not like I have to hang my head in shame.

And the teachers were all very concerned about me. Which is kind of embarrassing but nice that they care. Even his teacher who never talks came out into the hall and really seemed to be sincerely trying to reassure me that he did, if not well, not soo awful -- and that it was a BIG, stage-fright-inducing crowd.

DB has been grousing at me recently that I "care too much" (about him). Usually he says it when I'm trying to clean his nose or fix something on his person. It's a good thing that he's needing a bit more space between us, and I'll try to give it to him without his always having to ask. But on a grander scale, I don't know HOW to care any less.

On the way home today he asked me if he loved me. (He had to know I was disappointed with the shouting he did at the concert.) I love every chance to remind him that yes, I love him and always will, and nothing he ever does will change that.

We got some cool snow today. DB had a blast helping me brush off the car, and even reminded me, though I don't know how he even knows, that our new brush telescopes out -- a feature that came in handy for brushing 2 inches of wet snow off the roof of the car.

He'll be alright someday. Because I care too much.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Flopsicle

I'm tired of writing posts like this!

I tried, I really did. Tuesday is Ice Cream Day at DB's school and since he can't have dairy he can't sign up for ice cream. The PTA moms who run it soo nicely said I should bring something in he can have, stick it in the freezer for him, labeled, and they'd give it to him each week.

Well. Yesterday was the first chance to do so, and as it turned out I was helping with ice cream. Which I hate. I don't know the kids and it's just a scramble to get it to them before it melts but after they've eaten their lunch. Riiight.

Anyway. I took Popsicles. Turns out they meeeeeeeeeeeelt really quickly. I didn't know that and basically handed my already-anxiety-prone kid a bag of colored water.

Not a great day. I'm not that surprised he didn't want to go to school this morning! But it makes me want to cry when he says things like "I hate first grade, I want to go back to kindergarten" before he's out of bed.

Hopefully today will be better. Parents get to sit in the classroom for something this morning -- I think the kids will read their own writing, but DB claims to have no idea what's happening. He is interested in the fact that there will be bagels involved. Though even there, he seemed only to know when I told him.

Was I so wrong to mention that perhaps the other children's parents will not be cutting up bagels into bite-sized pieces for their offspring to consume? That made him go off on a tangent about how weird he is. ("No, you're not," I replied. "I've met the kids in your class. Z thinks he's Batman.")

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The Sound of Learning

DuckyBoy mentioned tonight that he hates the sound the clanking coins make all the time in math -- nickels and pennies that they use in counting not only money but also 1's and 5's.

Poor guy! That's already his difficult subject, could be a positive challenge, and now to find out that for at least a month -- hmm, a month, that's about how long he's been acting out at school -- he can't stand the sound of the classroom prop!

I'm lucky he's so articulate about it. "These 2 teeth the most," he said, pointing to his bottom 2 front. Same as when they write on the chalkboard, he said, adding that fortunately they don't write on the chalkboard.

What an easy thing to fix! I hope. Sending 2 options tomorrow -- plastic play coins, or play dollars instead.

In other news, I was proud of myself for making a Parenting Decision all by myself today. DB fell at recess and hit his head, but I decided, after observing the bump, that he could at least try his [impossible to reschedule, already missed a month due to facilities closing] swim lesson. I figured even half the lesson would be better than trying to reschedule it. He tried hard to get out of it, but I stood firm. (Tough for me on something like this.) And he did great. Other than pushing one of his classmates into the pool once. But I don't consider that injury-related. Just his ordinary lack of understanding of danger as more important than his immediate feelings.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Ups and Downs on Halloween

Once again Ms. Frizzle made an appearance... at least one of the kindergartners thought I was really her, it was cool! Reading to DuckyBoy6's class first thing in the morning was rough for him ... he hadn't adjusted to being in school mode yet enough to be able to accommodate my being there. Next time, I'll know.

One of the things he had trouble with was what he wanted the other kids to call me-- DB's mom, or Ms Frizzle! As soon as they'd call me one name, he'd cry out I was the other. Interesting.

So interesting that I was ready for a shot of tequila by the time I staggered down to the library to read to the Friday classes there.... lol.

Then later, the class party went better. He was no worse, in fact maybe a little better behaved, than the boy whose mom is class mom!

After school, he decided he did want to change his clothes and trick-or-treat as Optimus Prime. We walked around for like 2 hours with 2 of his friends, that's a lot of walking! It was fun to go near school, we saw other kids he knows.

He acquiesced to visit one neighbor, but otherwise was too pooped to trick-or-treat in the apartment building. It was a favor to me that he agreed to go to her apartment, since she's s bit much for him. So I was proud of him for that, and told him so.

Went to sleep in his Optimus Prime costume --with the Love Ducks shirt still on underneath! Pictures to come later...

Monday, September 29, 2008

Song for My Son

I started writing this for a songwriting contest. The deadline has passed, and I wasn't impressed with this as a song. But I like it as a poem.

I wish you’d know
How much I love you.
I wish I could see
Into the future
And know how you think of me
When I’m not here.

Will you look back and smile
And remember the love
In each lunchbox note
And each kiss and each midnight hug

Or will you remember
The times I said no,
The times I was too tired to read one more book,
The times I had to take care of myself?

You don’t think the way other people do
You see connections we don’t see

You also see connections that aren’t there
Like when we laugh and you think we’re laughing at you

So I’m afraid you’ll remember the wrong things
I do as much as I can of the right things
And hope you feel it in your heart.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Wow, Great Party!

We just had DB's 3rd-of-3 birthday parties for the year. Do ya think he's turned 6 enough?

I actually think this was a good year to celebrate a lot. So far he's doing really well adjusting to school. First week was a bit rough, but now that week 2 is behind him, he seems to be getting into the swing of things.

We've got a printed list of what we need to accomplish in the mornings (which helps me as much as, if not more than, it does him), he has a nice long swim lesson with another student, a girl who's a better swimmer than he is -- good for the stretch! We're getting the breakfast-snack-lunch components tweaked so he's not complaining of being hungry in the mornings (why are wholesome foods so expensive? I spend $100 at the grocery store, then pick up a few things at the health food store and it's another $50!) And he's already had one social story come home about being flexible re: who walks him from the bus to class in the mornings.

Oh, and no early session on Fridays, so he gets to watch tv and take a little more time getting ready one day a week. (I wanted that last year, but they slotted in an OT session he wasn't supposed to miss.)

And while a bump on the head yesterday stopped him from getting back into the swing of things at gymnastics, at least he was there for a few minutes (while he recovered; he bumped his head across the street from the gym) in prep for being there Today! For! His! Party!

I was a bit of a crazy person this morning; I baked his cake(s) last night but had to cut and frost them into a bear today, and we had an appointment at the accountant (is there a prize for being the last people to file your '07 taxes?) at 9:30 and I had this idea we had to leave at 1 for the party.

Fortunately, around 11 am I realized our party did not start until 4:00, so I had a chance to relax. (Once I called the restaurant we were ordering chicken satay from and corrected the pickup time from 1:00 to 3:00!)

And at least the cake was all done!


{Edited to add: I'm so proud of my cake
I uploaded it to the Website
that gave me the idea, Coolest Birthday Cakes.}

So, Party. DB did great; when he needed a break from the noise and activity, he took one; he sat on a rocking toy by himself, or came out into the vestibule for a drink, and about 5 minutes before the end of the gym portion, which is long -- an hour! -- he simply staked his claim at the table in front of a slice of pizza and waited for everyone else to join him.

It's nice to go somewhere that the staff knows your child, and lets him do what he needs to do. As they do in class, they encourage him to rejoin the group, but don't see the need to force it during a party.

Sure, there were a couple of glitches. We did Bears2Go along with the gym, and the first thing they do is color the shopping bag they'll put their bear in. He was anxious, probably just because I wasn't in the room with him, and needed to be sure I'd help him stuff his bear. Once reassured, he wrote his name and a couple of cute happy drawings on his bag.

Since we've attended other parties there, he's been waiting for his turn to be "in the parachute" --the b'day kid gets tossed around. So when the parachute came out, DB wanted to hop into the center right away, but they had a few warm-ups to do first. He had a hard time listening to that answer, and waiting, but after a few stern words from me (I basically said, "You can calm down and wait, or we can go home ... ") he dealt with it.

And then he was great. Even rolled in the big circle (hard to describe...)
ate pizza-with-the-cheese-removed (his choice to have regular pizza be the food -- it's what everybody serves, so I think he just wanted the whole package), tolerated the always-off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, blew out his candle -- didn't even wig out when the candle blew out as the cake was placed in front of him, just waited --waited!! -- while it was relit, blew it out, ate a bit of cake, WOW.

As I write it all down, I'm blown away. And I even got a super-nice compliment from Husband that I did a great job with the party.

This was a big expense that we agreed to and then promptly lost our steady source of income. I'm glad we did it. I like having parties at home, will happily continue them in the future, but this was really special.

And the look on those little girls' faces when they got to pick a Unicorn!! With Heart-shaped Feet! to stuff? Absolutely Priceless.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Mets Game Rained Out

Poor me, I am watching the rain lash the window at the exact time when the Mets game I bought tickets for is supposed to be starting. I have never, ever bought tickets before, so the one day I do, and actually DID it, decided I would get my native-New-Yorker son to a game at Shea before it gets torn down forever, we get a Tropical Storm??!! Geez.

Anyway the game has been rescheduled for an earlier-afternoon start tomorrow, which is probably better all around. But had I known that before 2 pm, I wouldn't have let him watch TV the ENTIRE morning. I'd have dragged his butt outside for some fresh air before the rain and wind started. As it is, we had enough time for a quick trip to the park anyway. Nice to live right next door like that.

I also would not have spent as much time interacting with him all morning, since I am now Sick Of It and want time to myself, whilst he of course wants more, more, more Mommy. More Mommy Is Always Better.

Husband is, of course, watching television. That's his idea of child care, letting DB watch TV (actually technically DB is on the laptop) while he watches TV. And does anyone wonder why I interact with DB so much? If it weren't for me the kid would get no interaction at all! And so our family afternoon consists of the 3 of us in 3 different rooms in front of 3 different screens.

I told Husband to call me on his cell phone if he wants me; I'm tired of the both of them calling out to me from a different room when they want to tell me something. "I want to tell you something, but it's not important enough for ME to get up and find YOU; you stop what you are doing and come to me." I'm fed up with that.

To his credit, DB came to me just now to tell me about the site he's on.

I worry about him being on the Internet with out one of us in the room, but so far he's still site-based and game/activity-based, like Playhouse Disney or PBS kids, but I still check in from time to time. If I sat with him and also watched every show with him the way I'd feel most comfortable (the way I used to when he first started to use both these mediums), I'd have no free time at all during his waking hours. None.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Logos

Dear Stop and Shop,

Why do you ask me to fill out the consumer surveys if you're not going to listen to me? I TOLD you that your logo did not need to be changed, but did you listen? No. You changed it anyway.

Of the ones you had me evaluate, at least you picked the one I liked. Really, it was the only one that made any sense, the others were ridiculously off-target.

But my son is very unhappy! Why change a perfectly good, vehicle-related, red-light green-light logo for one that looks like, **heavy sigh**, a salad bowl?? You understand how this makes no sense to a 6-year-old wheels nut.

On the upside, your new logo is saving me money since DB now insists on buying your store brand as much as possible, since the packages still have the old logo on them. I'm sure I will be reusing them until the cardboard falls to pieces and then taping the boxes together to continue to hold graham crackers until he graduates from high school. Thanks a lot.

Also, I am still waiting to be the one who wins the $100 grocery money for filling out the surveys. Surely it's going to be my turn soon. If you'd prefer, I'd be happy to be the groceries-for-a-year winner in honor of the new look. I'll even take back what I said. Well, maybe not. But I'll say something nice about the bowl.

And, since it's Haiku Friday, I'll try to 'ku it:

Oh dear Stop & Shop,
why must you introduce change
don't you know our pain?

Friday, August 1, 2008

Midday Haiku

Usually I remember about Haiku Friday after we've gone out and I'm checking my computer while DH is driving the babysitter home. For a change, I'll try it midday (and sober) today!

The last day of camp,
DuckyBoy is so happy
comfort awaits him.

He can hardly wait,
TV and computer games
in his pajamas...

What he doesn't know
Are all the plans I'm making
To keep him moving.

I want him to rest
But not turn couch potato
for he gets cranky.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Got Those Summer Camp Blues

He complained today,
"Camp is killing my summer,"
he'd rather be home.

His cough has faded
during the daytime at least ...
Back to camp he goes!

Just one more week there
One full week of just half days
Does it help or hurt?

When I read too much
I wonder if it hurts him,
Pressure to conform.

Yet I survived it;
Part of life is adapting
where you don't fit in,

Until you can find
the people and places that
accept who you are.

Happy Haiku Friday!

If you need a pick-me-up, I recommend "Mamma Mia." Pierce Brosnan can't sing, but he gets points for trying.

Friday, July 18, 2008

What Do Police Medals, a Chicken Cutlet, and the R Train Have in Common?

Answer: DuckyBoy today.

We had a great time at the NYC Police Museum today.

More accurately, we had a great time taking the subway to the Police Museum, walking several interesting blocks through downtown Manhattan to the museum, racing through the museum, checking out the gift shop, getting something to eat, and taking the subway home.

I could have spent longer looking at every photo and placard, but that's me; DB's dad has taught me not everyone likes to do that, so we usually compromise somewhere in between. Since he wasn't with us, I made DB compromise just a bit.

I never know what will pique his interest -- he was the most interested in the Medal of Honor on display in the 9.11 exhibit, awarded to the police officers who died that day. And all the badges. And he could relate to the exhibit about the School Safety officers since he sees one at school every day. He was interested in all the different divisions of the NYPD.

The pretend jail cell freaked him out because of the super-squeaky door. Whatever it takes, right?? So don't go to jail and the doors will never be that squeaky, yah!

The "getting something to eat" was a big deal, a big success: We ate at a deli, just a standard NY deli, but a good one -- one with yummy chicken cutlets -- which DB deemed nuggets and promptly ate enough that I was satisfied he ate enough! It's a good thing to drag the kid on the subway and through a (small) museum before he gets to eat. Come to think of it, maybe that's why he was in a hurry... no, he didn't mention being hungry till we left the museum.

The subway ride was nice on the way home; today was 94 degress or some such crazy number, so DB was pretty tired out. he actually put his head on my lap and closed his eyes, more than once! He never does that!

But he perked up for swimming. The cold pool probably helped.

After that we hooked up with Daddy and DB got a ride on Dad's shoulders the whole rest of the way home. That was a good reward for him to get, he did well today.

That is, once he stopped pushing me! Like, he comes up behind me and SHOVES me! What's with that?! I told him the next time he does it he owes me $1. Now he owes me $6 or $7 because after he forgot and did it again, he didn't believe me about his fine and kept doing it. I told him if he does all my shredding (he's the head shredder anyway but this pile is above and beyond his usual duties) I'll call it even. I just want to make him think.

Finally, bedtime!
Seems like it will never come,
And he drags it out.

What is with this kid,
We spent all day together
Still can't let me go?

Five years I wait for
Him to want to separate;
Still waiting most days.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Family Frisbee

Yesterday we drove 2 hrs (almost) to an extended family gathering -- my family, for once!! Yeah!! -- upstate. Great to see cousins and even my Uncle Mike, whose name isn't really Mike.

The other very great part was me, DuckyBoy and Husband playing Frisbee in my cousin's backward. A real sporty-type outdoor activity! All 3 of us! It lasted numerous minutes, more rounds than I can count!

And DB was good at it -- he knew (and said) "Gotta point my shoulder where I want it to go." He was open to Husband's coaching to also look where you want the disc to go. He was, point in fact, better than me!

Now, where do you suppose he learned the shoulder thing? I think APE, also known as adaptive phys ed. They only had it this year, and there was some back-and-forth by other moms about whether or not it was helpful, yadda yadda, and the school had trouble finding a place for them to have it -- apparently they were in the hallway at least some of the time. I know they went to the playground, too, which is good.

It's already been cancelled for next year, though -- Round 2 of the experiment. That's OK too, might as well see if he can get used to being in gym with everyone else.

But if he learned to play Frisbee, it was a year well spent!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Is Tired Legs a Symptom of ASD?

DuckyBoy is sooo tired these days. Three days of half-day "camp" and he's exhausted?

"My legs huuuuurt!" he whined when I told him we'd be going for a walk late this afternoon.

"Why?" he, of course, wanted to know.

So we can buy salmon for my dinner, was my reply. How shocking! Nothing to do with him?! Big step for me.

I can see if M [his sitter/abuela in the building] is available, I offered.

A few minutes later he said, "I don't want to go for a walk, and I don't want to stay with M." Which I thought showed a lot of clarity on his part.

Nevertheless I simply said, Sometimes it's hard to be a kid.

A few minutes later, off we went. He survived. Even got a kick out of looking at all the fish in the fish store, which turned out to be an interesting place to go.

He tolerated my NOT buying the cutesy toy at the cutesy home store we popped into ("for the air conditioning," he said) on the way back and even picked out something for Grandma.

I really pushed it then-- amazing how such a little thing feels like such a win --and we stopped in a THIRD store for some coffee creamer. (Welcome to city living: We are picky AND there is no single store that carries everything we like.) He spied some old-fashioned-style hot dog buns (the kind with squarish corners), which I consented to buy. They're whole-wheat, after all. And I had enough cash.

Surprise surprise, he had enough energy for the playground on the way home. And tolerated NOT being carried home after he got off the swing, and even after he got more wet than he wanted to get in the sprinkler, which is when he reeeeally wanted to be carried.

All in all, a nice walk. We clearly need more of them. Like, daily.