March Cobwebs

Have you ever had a head cold and been so congested that not only was it difficult to breathe, but your hearing was muffled as if you were encased in cotton or submerged in water? That's what it feels like with all these thoughts taking up residence in my head. Time for spring cleaning, or eviction, if you're still hanging with my metaphor.

There are so many things I could blog about. So many, er, cobwebs.

1. We saw one of four possible programs for John & Sam when they turn three.

2. We finally did all the bloodwork recommended by the developmental pediatrician. Everything came back normal except one, indicating mitochondrial dysfunction. ("treatable with supplements and vitamins" this from one of the more well-known autism research hubs in the country; still no word on the MRI abnormality)

3. We took a walk in the neighborhood and came upon a friend and a gaggle of NT children who stared at John.

4. What it's like, especially lately, to have two boys at different ends of the spectrum.

5. John's budding artistry. Sam's lovely speech.

And on top of all that, so many other bloggers have been writing about things I've been feeling, pondering, worrying about and I'd love to talk about that too...but I can't tonight. Deadline met, 1:30 a.m. Going to bed.

Larry King Live

...is just wrapping up an hour on autism. My TiVo (which as always, caught it, thank you TiVo) says it's supposed to run again at midnight (eastern time)...

more later :)
_____________

and later...

Um, Bill Cosby. Why? Larry King? Seemed to have done no homework. Terrible. And the woman from Autism Speaks (the grandmother)? Oy. That overused, overplayed video enjoyed yet another showing (do media outlets have no budget to interview anyone who isn't a celebrity or part of Autism Speaks?) STILL — so much national exposure has got to be a good thing. Loved Ed Asner. Really enjoyed Gary Cole. Still ached for Toni Braxton who's wearing her heart right out front.

And who knew that April was Autism Awareness Month?

Sigh...

I know I've been absent. I know there's a lot I've left unwritten, untold. Like John locking eyes with me in complete glee when he rediscovered The Wiggles. Or how Sam astounds me every day with the new words he knows ("Mommy! fruit salad? yummy, yummy!").

We've got a theme here.

I know I should be better at this, better at being the keeper of our stories. Every night I collapse into bed and think: Another day without blogging. Sigh. And I had picked up a certain rhythm. Tonight I'm still too tired and too scattered in my thoughts to write anything coherent, but since I've just met a huge work deadline, I do believe I will actually have a moment (maybe two!) to breathe this week. And to blog.

I miss it.

The Mommy Switch

We have one or two of those talking puzzles. You know— the kind that meow or moo when you place the correct puzzle piece in the correct spot? Every single night those talking puzzles let out an eerie wail when we turn off the lights. Are they light sensitive? Haunted? Who knows. Well, all it took to bring me to tears at our IFSP meeting today was the mere mention of John. As soon as they started talking about him, I was a goner. I call it the "Mommy Switch."

Good thing hubby was there to be the rational one. And I had felt pretty good about it. Pretty strong and clear-headed, knew my arguments inside and out. But nope. That Mommy Switch got flicked and I never really recovered.

All of that and still — it went pretty well. Sadly for me, John will have to leave his classroom environment. But in exchange, he will receive six additional hours of ABA at home for a total of 16 hours per week AND get to join another class. Although this class only meets one hour per week, it is sensory-based and with the same teachers he's had all along, so that's something. The most important thing is that we are upping the intensity and hopefully this will make a huge difference by the time he goes to school in September.

We are still fiddling with Sam's program, but it looks like he will get some in-home ABA as well. I don't know when I'll ever work (or grocery shop for that matter), but from where I sit tonight, it's all looking good.