Peeking Out

Yes, I know it's been two weeks. One word folks: Taxes.

Taxes that I put off starting until the morning of April 15. (Yes! I really did! Take me away!) Taxes that we stood in line to mail at 11 pm. Taxes that are still not done because we filed an extension. And now I have a cold and a stress headache and I can't look at it anymore. I. Just. Can't.

(I would like to stop right here and interject: Where is the tax relief for us autism parents? That first 7.5% would be a nice start.)

So yes, it's been two weeks since I posted in this awesome month of Autism Awareness and Taxes. I've been painfully aware of both. We've had the good, the bad, the in-between.

The good: the occasional words ("I want" and "'tubbies") continue to trickle out. John is singing the songs to this dvd, I don't care if it's for 6-month-olds, he really has responded to it.

The in-between: No more "Mommy" my way, but out-of-the-blue "Daddy" (harumph)

The bad: Two weeks of sickness, of one child always home with me, snotty noses wiped on my chest. Bone-weary exhaustion, no sleep, pre-IEP talk, a play date with NT kids where — oh yes! — I remember that both of my sons are autistic. I don't know why I do that. Sudden worry about the future crushes me awake (I guess we were due to get reacquainted).

Sam's Schedule - 4/08/08

1) Get up
2) Grumpy!
3) Go potty on floor
4) Refuse to get dressed
5) Accept juice
6) Push cereal away
7) "No school today!"
8) It's a cloudy day
9) "Stay home!"
10) Mommy feels Sam's forehead — normal
11) Mommy threatens Sam
12) "New schedule! Number 1. Sam get up, 2. Sam go to doctor, 3. No school today!"
13) John's bus comes
14) Mommy almost gives in, tries different tack
15) "School, then doctor, then store!"
16) Mommy scores
17) Sam goes to school
18) Home
19) How does Sam feel?
20) If still grumpy, go to doctor

Three hours later he bounces off the bus and up the drive.
Sam, how do you feel?

"Sam is happy!"
Mommy is tired.

Sam Says It's Snowing

Tonight, after I came downstairs from work and said goodbye to our babysitter, Sam came running up to me and said "Mommy, can I play with Sam?" We've been working on pronouns in speech, so I corrected him and said "Mommy, can you play with me?"

"Mommy, can you play with me?" he says in perfect imitation. Taking my hand, he pulls me to the living room and points to the floor. "Look, it's snowing!" he says.

"It is?" I ask.

I take in the scene: his favorite blue blanket spread out in the middle of the floor and Thomas placed on top, peeking out from under a paper snowflake his aunt JT made for him on her last visit. Also nearby: a weighted helium balloon from a weekend birthday party.

Sam is very much attuned to the weather and seasons these days. So much so, that during our daily schedule-making he will first ask me what the weather is like and then dictate to me accordingly: Number 5: It's a sunny day or It's a rainy day, get Sam's raincoat! He is also fascinated with hurricanes, tornadoes and windstorms.

"Wow, Sam, is Thomas in a snowdrift?" thinking that surely he was recreating a scene from a video.

"No, Mommy. I need my snow coat and snow cap. Come with me." I'm pretty sure we're recreating something since he's never called his hat a snow cap before — I've never called his hat a snow cap. "Mommy, you need a scarf. You have a good scarf?"

"Um, okay. Yes!" All bundled up we return to the living room where I await further instructions.

Handing me an empty bucket, he says "Here's your caco!" It takes me a minute before I realize he means cocoa.

"Oh, yummy, this is so good! Thank you. Have some cocoa with me," I say and hand him an empty tupperware.

Smiling, he takes a sip.

"Mommy, I need my Thomas skates." He disappears for a minute and returns with his Thomas Crocs. (Yes, everything Thomas and Teletubbies in this house.) After pulling them on, he brings over his father's way-too-big slides and orders me to put on my skates.

"Stand up Mommy!" He starts tiptoeing on top of the blue blanket, which of course is the iced-over pond.

We hold hands and shuffle our feet along the floor. "Hey, how is Thomas doing?" I ask him.

We drop to the pond and Sam lifts the paper snowflake and says "Thomas is snowed. Here you go snow plow," and he brings over a big blue truck to clear the way. Pulling the balloon, he says, "Here's my christmas tree, thank you for coming to my christmas party!"

Some major pretend play, wouldn't you say? I'm feeling more and more optimistic about regular preschool.

43 Months

There are very few things that can top this morning.

As he does every day, John began to "talk" loudly before my alarm went off. We are nothing if not creatures of routine: I dragged myself out of bed, went in to change him (yes, soaked through) and brought him into bed with me while we waited for Sam to wake up. My eyes closed for what I hoped would be a nice 5-10 minute snooze as John continued a very lively conversation with his Po doll on the pillow beside me.

The snooze didn't last long. I peeked over to watch him hug Po, then hold her at arm's length only to pull her back in slow motion — a sing-song quality to his voice the whole time. I took his hand and patting Po's tummy I said, "Hi to Po!" "Hi to John!" That's when he laughed and said "Mommy!"

Mommy, folks. Just a few days ago I was wondering if we were close and here we are. I can't possibly convey the joy that immediately and completely washed over me. If you're a mom, though, I think you know.

John has been so happy lately. Smiling, singing, laughing. Pulling me along like I'm one of his Teletubby dolls to arrange and examine at his own pace. I've been quite content to follow his lead and am amazed at the eye contact I get when I join him in one of his many stims.

Once unimaginable connection.

A Handful of Topics to Blog About This Month

In honor of Autism Awareness Month I plan to be a little more committed to blogging. Mind you, not every day, but more often. We've been on a roll, lots of progress and accomplishments.

1. John has started to point to objects in books and name them. More recently, he spontaneously pointed to parts of my face and correctly labeled "eyes," "nose," "ears," "mouth," and out-of-the-blue: "face."

2. After I turn on Thomas the Tank Engine at his request, Sam tells me "Mommy, you're very useful."

3. After I spill a bottle of grape juice, Sam announces "Mommy, you are no longer a clean engine."

4. Autism: The Musical — pretty spectacular.

5. John looks at me and says "Mwah! Mwah!" I don't understand until he smiles and I realize he's making kissy noises.

6. What is up with John's intense love of the Teletubbies? It's pure adoration.

7. Sam has started requesting Chicken Noodle Soup for lunch every day. This is his first new meal-time food in over a year.

8. Last night Sam said "I want peanut butter and jelly — GRAPE jelly, Mommy." Shocked, I brought out the ingredients and made a small sandwich in front of him. He took a bite and threw up. I don't understand.

8. Every morning Sam says "Do my schedule, Mommy." Not only am I useful, I take dictation — "1. Get up. 2. Go potty. 3. Get dressed. 4. Go to school. 5. Come home.…" all the way through to bed time — and then I must fold up his schedule and place it in his coat pocket so that he can go to school.

9. The ringworm will not go away. Every time we have it under control, new patches crop up. I feel like a bad mommy.

10. Report from John's school: "He heard someone else say Mama and then repeated it four times pretty forcefully." I'm still waiting to hear that, perhaps we're close?

11. Vaccines and mitochondrial disorders. Pretty big ones (MMR, chicken pox) due when we turn four this summer. Their doctor wants us to split them up.

12. Letting Us Magazine subscription lapse results in my reading "What You Can Do Right Now to Help Your Child with Autism" and "Embracing Autism". I consider letting People go too...