Student of the Month

Two days ago my daughter opened up her school backpack and announced that she had an important note for me from her teacher. Now up until now most school notes sent home with one of my children have had something to do with behavior and asperger's. They also have usually involved my son. This was my first sealed note sent home with my daughter.

With a bit of apprehension, kindergarten was when we started getting notes sent home with my son, I opened the note. Was this starting again? I read out loud and was excited. My daughter was selected as student of the month for reading for pleasure. Then at the end of the note it says don't tell your child, they don't know yet. Ooops, though seriously wouldn't you put that at the top of the note? If it was at the top I would have read it silently to myself.

Well she was excited. She has been reading books to her classmates for a few months now. She brings in her favorite books and reads them until the pages fall out. So many nights I find her asleep in her bed next to a pile of books that she has been reading. Often after she goes to bed I can hear her reading aloud various stories. It is so much fun to listen to her read.

Somehow we managed to get her to compose herself and she did a pretty good job of pretending she didn't know. Wednesday morning when I was obviously getting dressed to do something and neither of my children seemed to connect it to the assembly they would be having later that morning. I was excited and patiently waited for the bus to pick the kids up so I could make my way to the school.

We got there and my son's class was just entering the gym. He was all smiles and behaving rather well. The monthly assemblies must be a part of the routine now. Then I notice he has his shirt on inside out. Of course! Daddy talks to him I assume to mention this to him and nothing happens. I get his teacher's attention and she manages to get him to leave the gym to fix his shirt. How did I not notice that in the morning?

The principal starts to talk about the students of the month and what their teachers wrote about them. Reading for Pleasure was the theme for the month. When she mentioned students giggling aloud when reading I could picture my daughter doing that. She gets so into the books I read to her or she reads that she often reacts out loud to what is happening in the book.

The principal reads my daughter's name and she leaps up from her spot. She is obviously excited and is flapping her arms (which makes me cringe because that is sign of autism/asperger's and I hope is just her mimicking her brother's behavior.) and is all smiles as she walks forward. Te principal even comments on how happy she is.

The assembly is over and the students go back to their classrooms. It was a great way to begin the day. I am a very proud mommy.

So Frustrated

He is back to yelling at me because I spend money. I spent $45.00 which was not even close to enough to "Bounce us". His reaction was to scream at me and tell me I am sick in the head. Honestly I just give up. If he spends money on the kids that is okay, not a problem. But if I do, I am really spending the money for me and it is unnecessary. I don't even say anything back to him anymore. I just let him scream and swear at me and don't react. A reaction just feeds into it and drags it out into a huge argument. He gets mad at me for things I might do in the future, he gets mad at me for things I did in the past over and over and over again.

Now if I get mad at him, I am over reacting and whining. Or even better it ends up being "my fault" In his eyes he can do no wrong and I am at fault for all the things that go wrong in our world.

The other day we went to a fish fry. I knew how to get there, at least the usual way. So when he turned off the expected route I casually asked him where he was going. Now we were turning toward a bank and a grocery store so I didn't know if he needed to stop there first. Big mistake. I had forgotten that he will take odd turns to avoid stop lights. He flipped out and started yelling at me calling me "Dummy" in front of the kids. He just wouldn't stop.

Today he told me that if I eft him no other man would have me. He said"I don't care how you look, but other men will." He knows I have one foot out the door and is trying to groom me to feel so worthless that I won't leave.

I started saving money which is hard with him so focused on watching how I spend every penny. I am looking for a place to rent. It is the first time I have had to look for a place for multiple people and I want a place with a yard so the children can play. I bough supplies to build a garden that are easily moved so I won't have to leave them behind.

I have a few applications out so hopefully I will get a job soon. If not I am going to advertise as a tutor on Craigslist. At the same time i don't want to be away from the house in the evening because when I am nothing gets done. Sometimes I come home to find no dinner has been served, homework isn't done and no baths have been taken. He leaves for work and I have less than an hour until bedtime.

Since I have had my meds adjusted I have been feeling so much better. I have been happy cooking in the kitchen and yes I spent some money hoping to organize the house better. It is so frustrating when it all seems to be going well and then suddenly it all falls apart.

The World is Perfect

Sometimes it is so hard. Chaos seems to rule. It is not that I never know what will happen. It is that I know the unthinkable will happen and it does. Sometimes it is fun and amazing. Other times it makes me want to scream. It is something all parents have to deal with I know. But why does it seem to be focused on one child in my house? Is it just the Asperger's that drives me crazy?

He had a research project due this week. He knew how to look things up with Google but he had no idea what to do next. So I helped him. I helped him after he did his regular load of homework. His regular load that has quadrupled because of state testing. I just wanted him to go to bed. He was bouncing around and he has these facial expressions that are so unusual. He talks with a voice that just grates on my nerves. I am his mother. How can I get mad at him for facial expressions and sounds that deep down I know are part of the Asperger's?

I have to close my eyes and take deep slow breaths, I need to not snap. I need to forget that it is almost an hour after his bedtime. Just breathe...

Finally the homework is done. The research project is done, he might have learned how to look things up on the internet, take notes and put the data on a graphic organizer. Now he wants some snuggle time with me. Snuggles, will he let me hold him? I never know.

No holding tonight. At least not during snuggles. He pulls away from me. We talked about the day. What did he like about it? Some how it always involves pizza. Pizza is a word that could mean anything. It could mean pizza or it could mean anything else. It can be a name or an action. It is his catch all. It is his safety. It is his summary. Today was pizza!

At last it is bedtime. He is off to bed. I am ready to crash. I just want to turn the TV on and watch shows I DVRed that I want to watch without interruption. It is my escape at the end of the day. It is my closure. He sees the book we are reading and asks me to read to him tonight. I look at the clock and it is so late, he needs to sleep, I need him to sleep. But he looks at me with those eyes. He is so darn cute that I fear he could get me to do anything right now. Okay I'll read.

I lie on his bed and open the cover, I turn to where we left off and start to read. He snuggles up next to me and leans against me. There is the snuggle I crave. His head now touches mine and the world is perfect. It can be so hard, sometimes I don't think I can do but right now, in this moment the world is perfect.

Help I'm Trapped in an Adult

How do people do it? How can they work, be a parent and a spouse, come home cook and clean, and have time to garden or putter around the house? Today I woke up exhausted, yesterday I woke up ready to go to bed. I couldn't manage even the simplest task. I crawled back into bed after two hours and almost cried. My kids were in school, what if they were home?

I look into the backyard of my house, the snow has melted away and revealed all the evidence of my children playing. I see a mitten next to the garage and a broom (Why? I don't think I want to know.) Some scattered legos and my kitchen tongs (So that's where they went!) are by the fence. A winter's worth of fun. Where was I? In the house, curled up into a ball.

I hurt, physically and mentally. I want to look into that yard and see a garden. I want to sit in the yard and watch my babies play. Heck I want to play. I want to chase bubbles and throw a Frisbee. There is a child in me that wants to come out and play. Unfortunately there is a hurt worn out adult in the way.

Destructoboy Strikes Again

I love my son, I love my son, I love my son... Deep Breath, Breathe...

Yes he is still alive! But my kitchen cart, I am afraid it has seen better days. I love my kitchen cart. Not as much as my family, but it is a perfect fit in my kitchen. The color is ideal, it has great storage and I got it for a bargain. The kitchen is my room in the house. I have it set up the way I like and it is a personal almost spiritual room for me.

He lulled me into complicity lately. His Asperger's has been on the back burner lately. The book incident should have been a clue. He is like an ocean. There are calm days and they can go on for a while, but don't turn your back on it. It can change on you in an instant, with no warning. The ocean right now is choppy and I can't help but think that a storm is a brewing.

I cried because of this. I know that there are times he gets compulsions. Today it is ripped paper or scratched table surfaces, but what happens next. We never know when the destruction will happen and he can offer no explanations about why. I wish I could just look into his head and figure out how I can help him.

Being a parent is hard. Add on top of that marriage issues then multiply that by a child with Asperger's and that is the equation of my life right now. The solution is unknown right now and I don't even know how to find the solution. Just breathe!

An Aspie Night

For a while now I have been reading to P from Madeleine L'Engle's Time series of books. He is interested in them and for the most part is settled and attentive as I read to him. It is our special time every night. We snuggle together on his bed and discuss the book as I read. Tonight however a wrinkle (Not a Wrinkle in Time) was thrown into the mix. There was "Nothing" for snack.

Now before we go any further let me say there was a variety of choices for snack from butterscotch pudding (purchased at his request, but after I bought it he decided he only liked homemade butterscotch pudding, even though he has never had homemade butterscotch pudding.) to fruit. Of course the snack he really wanted (Yogurt) was devoured as quickly as they could eat it. I said once it's gone it's gone. No more until I shop again. It was snuck into the basement and eaten as they hid in their hideout. No more I said, and I meant it.

When he realized what he wanted was gone the tears flowed down his cheek. His cries sounded like he was in mourning. Nothing would help. The world was ending in his mind. It is horrible to watch your child go through this. I know in his head this behavior is rational. I have to fight my instincts to get upset with him for this display. He can't help it, he can't stop it until it has run it's course.

I wish I could gather him in my arms and just make it go away. But when he is in this state a hug is not accepted by him. He goes in his room, his safe place, but even that is not helping. When he calms down I think we have been through the worst of it. We have told him if he doesn't pick a snack there is nothing else we can do. He will have to go to bed without a snack. We are not running out to the store to get him a snack. It is not going to happen.

I go into his room with the book. The book I read to him every night AFTER his snack. That is when he knew we were serious. It was bedtime, he chose not to have a snack, so now it is story time. The realization was too much for him and he just broke down. He was so upset and was flailing around on his bed. I told him I couldn't read to him if he acted like that and he declared that he didn't want a story that night. He just wanted a snack.

Finally he calmed down enough to realize that he was hungry and would have to eat snack from what we had. He picked oatmeal. I swear I had a different son at that moment. There was no evidence of the attack he had mere moments ago. He was smiling and happy. We made his oatmeal and he ate it. Then he came over to me, hugged me and leaned his head on my shoulder. "Mommy" he says "I really do want a story tonight."

Instead of two chapters I could only read one. I explained that too much time had past and we only had time for one chapter tonight. Oddly enough that decision makes the book end perfectly on Sunday night. That gives me an extra day to find a copy of the book. Luckily in two books we have only had Asperger's effect us one night, one Aspie night.

Back in the Kitchen

I am taking back my kitchen. I started by reclaiming the grocery shopping. He took it away from me. Just a little bit at a time until there was no more trips to the grocery store for me. I know some people would be glad to not have to go to the grocery store but I love it. I enjoy finding new food, comparing pries and nutrition. I love the hunt for a bargain and the joy of finding the perfect ingredient or my favorite product on sale. It helps make me me.

So I told him that I wanted to shop for groceries again. He uttered a meaningless protest and I just took it back. It was a thrill to be back in the store shopping cart in hand. I slowly went up and down all the aisles and placed my desires into the cart. I admit I went a bit overboard the first time. It was like asking a child to go into a toy store and only get one toy. Mom I want more!!!

So then I started buying ingredients for cooking again. Since he was buying all the food it has been mostly boxed meals. Just the things he knows how to cook. I stopped cooking. I shouldn't have but I did. How many times can you cook Rice-A-Roni before you never want to see it again? I loved to cook. It was another of my great pleasures.

I love to experiment with flavors and adjust recipes to make them mine. I love to try new foods and welcome change to my palette. My husband however would be happy eating tuna casserole and sloppy joes for the rest of his life. He hates trying new foods and will find all sorts of ways to avoid it.

So I started buying ingredients to make a cheesy tomato soup. It may use some canned soup as ingredients but there are other things I add to it to make it less canned and more Mommyfied. Once I make it and taste it, I am going to try to make it from scratch. My son was with me when I was shopping and I told him about the soup I wanted to make. He instantly asked me to make Cream of Mushroom soup.

So I looked for some recipes and I went out to buy the ingredients. I also found an inexpensive enameled cast iron dutch oven and bought it too. It was perfect to make soup in. I found the perfect recipe, I purchased the ingredients and made the soup.

The family went out to play golf, not something I enjoy and I was all alone. I went into my kitchen and got ready to cook. I tied my apron on and assembled all the ingredients and kitchen tools I would need. I was myself again. I diced and chopped, added and stirred. The pot bubbled and the aroma was intoxicating. Magick was in the air, and I added it into the pot. The soup was finished just before they walked into the door.

It tasted wonderful, full of life and love. Of course my son who can be as picky as my husband saw the chopped parsley in it and decided before he even tasted it that it was "Icky". I didn't take offense, even if I did make it for him. The rest of the family loved it.

I saved some for my brother and froze some for another day. I was alive again in the kitchen and intend on keeping it that way. No more will I be removed from doing things I love. Progress is being made and I can sense an improvement. Since I have taken back the kitchen there have been few, maybe not any arguments. Can it last?

Another Valentine's Day

There were no roses or candy for me. I did get the usual card. It said how he the only place for him is right next to me. If that is true why are we where we are? Why am I alone again? I know he is working and I know I don't even want to be around him all the time. But still just once I want a magical Valentine's day. I want to receive a gift that takes my breath away.

I'm tired of birthday's and Christmas's being just another day. Just because he doesn't want gifts doesn't mean that everyone else feels the same way. What's worse is it feels so petty of me. I mean really how materialistic of me to say that I want a gift. But I do.

I want to see a package wrapped in sparkles. I want that mystery of what could be inside it. I want the anticipation as I unwrap it of discovering the unknown. In all the years we have been together he only bought me gifts at the beginning. The last one was our first anniversary. How many years ago that was. But I still remember how that gift made me feel. It has been so long since I felt that way.

Over the years Christmas has shrunk. I get some of the magic by searching for that perfect gift for others. If I can't have the joy of that magic at least I can bring that magic to others. This year (again I sound so petty here) I only had one gift that I had no idea what it was. One gift that made me have that moment of wonderment as I tore open the Christmas wrap, to reveal possibly the worse gift I have ever received. I could have returned it with ease and still I hold onto it. I don't even really like the person who gave it to me. But still I have it, I guess it really is the thought that counts.

So here I type. St. Valentine's Day is over. I spent the majority of the day alone. I swiped a fun dip valentine that my son received from a classmate. I sat on the couch alone eating flavored sugar from a bag watching tv. Maybe my gift was the fact that the day went by with no arguments. The day ended with cuddles, hugs and kisses from my children. I do love being a mommy, but I wish I felt like a wife.

I Took a Step

Again I am told by him that I do nothing in the house. I wanted the couch moved so I cleaned out the hide hole behind it. Since the items kind of belonged there I had no real place to put them. hen I waited for him to help me move the couch. He went to work. So I made sure things were still out of the way the next day. The room looked bad, it was cluttered. Things were not were they belonged because I wanted the couch moved.

So he wakes up and comes down stairs. Then he does his sidewards glance at the mess and rolls his eyes while shaking his head. I simply ask if he can help me move the couch. Now the words come. He liked the couch were it was, look at this mess, I don't do anything, I am fat and lazy. Since I don't work I should be cleaning the house all day. I know I could work around the house more, but in all fairness I do at least 500% more than I used to. I am not going to be Debbie Homemaker overnight. But it is not good enough for him.

Bonus, he has this hangup about bandaids. If they get used too fast he gets upset. I have been using them, they fall off I replace them. Well, today he quizzes me on my bandaid usage. He actually wanted me to account for my bandaid usage. I balked and refused to justify my use of bandaids. I am a grown up and if I want to use a band aid I will!!!

So I go upstairs while he is moving the couch. (I only wanted it moved about 1-2 feet, but turned a little too.) My daughter and I are upstairs she is watching tv and I am reading my book. Then I look at the clock, it is 15 minutes before he leaves for work. What happened to dinner? I go down stairs to find out and the couch is not moved. One thing I ask and he didn't do it.

Now I am mad and so is he, he tells me I am going to be kicked out of the house, bye bye. I was so glad when he finally left for work. I was in tears. My son came up to me and gave me a big hug, I couldn't hide my tears from him. I had to do something so I did.

I called the landlord (my Mother-in-law) to find out where I stand if we separate. To my relief she will work with us to make sure no one ends up on the street. Ideally if I had a job and could show her I could pay the rent she would consider letting me and the kids stay. Bottom line we have to make this as bearable as possible for the kids. I wish I had the money to buy the house outright. But at least I know I have a home and will not be kicked out.

I opened up to her about what was happening with us. She had no idea of course. I don't know how long I was on the phone with her, but she made me feel better. Well I stopped crying eventually.

I started to put everything back where it belongs in the living room and it is not quite finished, but I am tired and am going to bed. He already thinks I don't do anything. I took a step so maybe the next one won't be as hard. The path in front of me looks so long and dark. Hopefully I will see the light soon.

Her First Hockey Game

It has been over a week since we went to watch the hockey game. My brother-in-law bought us tickets for Christmas. We left for the game allowing plenty of time for slow traffic. Good thing we did. It was agonizing, creeping slowly forward inch by inch getting closer to the parking ramp but still so far away.

Finally we turned to corner to enter the ramp! No, the entrance there was blocked so we creeped on. It felt like hours, but in fact was just moments of time, when we finally entered the ramp. Magically all the cars in front of us had disappeared. Up, up, up we went into the ramp and then we found the traffic again.

We saw the entrance to the arena, just to the left of us and I was temped to jump out of the car and run inside. Then the traffic moved and we were motioned around the bend. All the cars ahead of us proceeded onwards and they all passed an empty spot. Our little car fit perfectly in it. Was the spot left just for us? It felt like it. When we turned around the entrance to the arena was mere steps away. We had found the Holy Grail of ramp parking spots.

The air was so cold, our breath was visible like tendrils of clouds leaving our bodies. I held my children's hands as we navigated ourselves around moving vehicles to get to the door and the promised warmth behind it. At last we were inside and warm. My daughter held our tickets and passed them out to us with great pride. This was her first hockey game and she was bursting with excitement.

Daddy led us to our seats. He knows how the arena is set up and has no problem navigating the crowd to find our seats. My daughter was bouncing up and down. She often watched hockey with her brother and father on TV and was thrilled to be in the arena where the actual players were. I was thrilled because I learned we had waitress service and they would bring the arena food right to me.

The players came onto the ice and my son who is forever in motion stopped. His face turned toward the ice and he focused on the activity that was occurring there.

It is not often that he tunes into his surroundings as much as he was in this moment. He might love the game as much as his father.

I was the only one that wasn't lost in the moment. The rest of the family was focused on the ice, I focused instead on the family and enjoyed seeing the excitement on their faces. The national anthem for both Canada and the US was sung and the game started. I finally got the attention of the waitress and ordered freshly made potato chips with Bison French Onion chip dip. Food at the arena was meant to be enjoyed, I was ready to enjoy.

One period was over our team was behind. You could feel the disappointment in the crowd. My son wanted to watch the commentators being filmed so Daddy took him. My daughter and I went exploring. We dodged people as she skipped ahead eating from a bag of cotton candy the size of her head. She was giggling and spinning and people all around us would pause and watch her bliss while I somehow managed to keep up with her in the crowd.

We went all the way around the arena and I managed to pause at our seats as I left my coat behind. Off we were again, lap number two. We passed Daddy as he and my son went back to their seats. The second period was starting and they didn't want to miss any of it. I tried to get her to go back to our seats, but she had something else in mind. Off she went so I followed.

Lap number two was finished and we paused at a railing where we could look down to the section below. There was a play house and she saw it, now she had a goal in mind. We went back to the seats to get our tickets, I wanted to make sure we could get back to our seats. We talked her brother into joining us and off we went. Our goal was the playhouse. The only trouble was that I had no idea how to get to it.

Near the restrooms was a staircase, we were close to where we saw the playhouse from above, so down the stairs we went. My son now started to protest. These stairs looked ominous. They were stark and grey and when the door closed they seemed so removed from the brightness and glitz of the arena. We could not hear the sounds of the crowd and we were all alone. Down we went and he was sure we were going the wrong way and were lost. The contrast was too much for him and he was starting to have an aspie fit.

Then we got to the bottom of the staircase I opened the door and the arena was visible again. The sights and sounds soothed him and we turned to the left, there was the playhouse and our journey was over. I signed the kids up for the kids club and they played inside.

There was a sign with trivia questions about the mascot and signs around the clubhouse with the answers on them. The only problem was the clubhouse was old, signs had disappeared and were not replaced. A slight annoyance to an average fan. To my son it was a tragedy. He wanted to know what Sabretooth's favorite cartoon was. The question was there for all to see. The answer however was missing. He wanted to go back to watch the game, but first he had to find the answer.

We searched for the missing sign, we asked the people working at the clubhouse. The answer was not revealed. He was focused on it and wouldn't let it go. The he decided that he would ask Sabretooth. So now we went on a Sabretooth hunt. The only problem, he was nowhere to be found. The period was almost over and I wanted to get back to our seats before the crowd descended on us. So I suggested that we look back upstairs on the level our seats were at. Back to the stairs we went.

The anxiety started as soon as the door closed. He was sure these were the wrong stairs. We were lost and never going find daddy or our seats. He was no longer focused on Sabretooth and his favorite cartoon. But he was ready to fall apart. We were just steps from the door, I managed to get him those final steps and never again would I take the stairs with him. The change is just too much for him. We open the door into the familiar sights and sounds of the arena and the anxiety is gone. Back to our seats we go, there are just moments left in the period. I order a soft pretzel and relax in my chair. I finally focus on the game and hope I can relax.

My daughter is six. So much has happened this night. We took forever to park, walked through traffic in the cold to the arena. We watched the game and explored the arena. She played in the clubhouse and joined the kids club. It is after bedtime and she is ready to go home, NOW. The only problem is that Daddy is not ready to go.

Of course she tries to persuade him. She tries to snuggle and use hew powers of cute against him. However they have ho effect on him. Hockey is his passion, his life and his everything. He does no waver and stays focused on the game. She tries blocking his vision, but he foils that plan and still watches the game. She tries punching him, which is actually cute because she is so small. This does make him smile, but he will not budge from that seat until the final whistle is blown.

So what does a six year old do at a hockey game when she is ready to go home and no one else is? Why she runs up and down the stairs in the aisle of course. Luckily this entertained her for the rest of the game and I didn't have to chase her around the arena for a few more laps.

The game is almost over finally the team we came to watch gets a goal then another one seconds later. Alas it is not enough and they lose. Now the part I dread, getting out of the arena. I don't like crowds. I don't like walking in wall to wall people. I have death grips on the kids, it would be so easy for them to be lost in this crowd. We pause at the souvenir shop conveniently placed near our seats. The kids talk daddy into buying them something. They are closed! Lucky (not my choice of words) for us the shop all the way down on the main floor is open.

My quick exit and short walk to the car plan has been foiled. We have to find the elevator, No more stairs tonight. Go down to the store and find the two little items my husband told the kids they could have. On they way into the store I see a DVD that my husband loves and it is just $1.00. I am not sure if we still have it so I point it out to him. Of course he is upset. Why do I bother? We find the treasured items promised to the children and stand in the line to pay. I just want to go home.

Finally we get out of the store, the crowds are gone. We ride the elevator back up to our level and find the exit to the parking ramp. The warmth of the arena is left behind as we open the door to the ramp, luckily our car is right there and we get in. Her first game is over. We head for home. Both children are sleepy when we get home and the bedtime struggle is almost nonexistent. My husband and I have a surprisingly good night watching TV together on the couch. I wish we could have nice days like this more often.