A friend or not a friend, that is the question

This week, I wrote a very awkward email. It was one of those situations that I tried to explain my kids to someone who may not have been aware about the complexities of their Autism or even knew that they have Autism.

#2's birthday is this week. He is not the kind of kid that does well with big parties. He usually gets overstimulated and melts. He is the small intimate gathering kinda guy, but he does best one on one. He is happy if he has someone to talk to, about the things he wants to talk about.

So when I asked him the question, "do you want a big present or a party?" he replied, "I want a small party and a small present." Ok. We can handle that. I asked him to make a list of his friends that he wanted to invite. He came back to me with a list of five kids.  One was our good friend's kid, two were little Mexican kids who had limited English and one was a kid he used to be friendly with, but I remembered there was an altercation that #2 caused a couple years ago, and I don't remember how it resolved. The last kid, was the crazy one from his class party three years ago that tried to climb on our roof while his father ignored him. He was probably the oldest kid in the grade and all the kids looked up to him, including #2. The problem was, I wasn't sure if the last two kids even liked #2. I said to him, "I didn't know that you were friends with them" and he replied "oh sometimes we are. I did manage to get their attention on the playground a few times." Great. Just great. Suspicions confirmed.

We then had a conversation about what constitutes a friend and the differences between "getting someones attention" and being friends. I'm really not sure what sunk in, but of course he responded, "Of course I know that Momma." Yes, Mr. Aspy, of course! You know everything!

I sent a note into school for his aide and asked who his friends were. Later that day, I got an email from his teacher listing five kids that weren't even on his original list of five. Great. No cohesion what so ever.

I decided to find out about the two kids in question myself , so I got out the student directory and wrote awkward emails to the moms:

Hi,  I'm writing because #2's birthday is approaching and we are planning a little Birthday bus;  I take him a a few of his friends to see Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 and then for ice cream. He told me he wanted your son to be a part of his 5 friends. As you may know, #2 has Asperger's and interpersonal relationships are hard for him. He has a difficult time understanding the foundations of friendship and often mistakes any type of attention, negative or positive as a gesture of friendship. This is a little awkward, but, I'm not even sure if your son likes #2 the way that he says he does and I'm afraid that he will get hurt if this isn't handled properly. We are planning to go on 9/27 for the afternoon showing, the time hasn't been announced yet. If your son does not want to go, I'd prefer that we tell him that you have a conflict because we don't want to trigger a meltdown that may last for days. I appreciate your honesty and understanding the delicacy of the situation, Shari

After writing that email, I had my moment. Parents of special needs kids know what that moment is; it's when we have to step back from our daily "getting through the day" routine and acknowledge some painful truths that exist about our children that we can't fix. The truth is, that unless I had asked him about who his friends were for the party, I wouldn't have realized there was a discrepancy between the friends he thinks he has, and the friends he really has. When he is home, he is a volcano spewing facts and plays with his siblings the antagonistic way that siblings do. His interpersonal  relations with his classmates isn't even on the radar. 

I did get an email back from one of the moms. She thanked me for the email and let me know that her son does indeed consider #2 one of his friends and he'd be delighted to join him for his party. And then she offered her help if it was needed. Whew.  Thanks you for giving me that piece of mind. My kid isn't entirely delusional.  Kudos to you mom of kid in question. Well played.

I haven't heard back yet from the mom of the crazy kid. I can only imagine her staring at the computer screen not knowing how to tell me her kid doesn't like mine without sounding like an insensitive a-hole.

I'd like to tell her, it's ok. It's perfectly fine if your kid and my kid aren't buddies. We don't usually like every person that we come in contact with in our lives. The lesson is, that we teach our kids to be cordial to people and treat every person as a potential friend. If we have common interests, then we can become friends and if we don't, that's ok too.  I also know that he is a hard one to be friends with. I get it.

I am just happy that he has some kids that he calls "friend" and they call him that too. That's a great start.

Party Hearty

 For as long as I can remember, when #1's birthday came around,  he didn't want a party. He didn't care about being with people, so he always chose some piece of electronics. We knew that he would benefit from the electronics instead of wasting the money on a party where inevitably he would wind up in the corner not engaging anyone.

Last year was a remarkable breakthrough for him. Two months before his birthday, we asked him the same question we did every year, "do you want a party or do you want electronics?" The answer was always some game, game system, or computer related item, so I waited for the expected answer.  And that is when he surprised me and said "a party." What? Did I hear that right?   Kids with Autism often answer with the last choice they are offered. So over the next few weeks, I asked him the same question phrased differently: "Do you want a party or an XBox?"  and then reversed the order. For four weeks straight, the answer was always "party", so he got a party. I attached a little note to the invitation explaining that he had autism and we invited the parents to come. 14 of his classmates showed up and some even chose his party over other commitments. It was an amazing party and he played with his friends and loved it. Watching him with his classmates, he blended. He didn't flap, he didn't stand out. He was just a kid having fun and it was awesome.

And this year, I asked him the  same question. "do you want a party or......." and before I could even finish the sentence, he answered, "party."Well, ok then. And then he asked, "Mom, can I have Just Dance 2014, too?" In my mind, I was saying, "YES, YOU CAN HAVE WHATEVER YOU WANT!! YOU USED YOUR WORDS!!!!" But I have been trying to get out of that mode, so I told him he could ask for gift cards and buy it with them. And with him, that is he ONLY present he wants. That is all that is required: a party and that game.

 What is great about #1, is that his disposition makes not caring about him impossible. His classmates are all tuned into him and on some level love that he is happy just being him. He sings and dances when he feels like it and is immune to others around him. He is happy in his head and it is contagious.

This year, we are returning to Ms. Becky's bounce house for another great party. It will be exciting and awesome, but knowing that this is his last year in elementary school makes me a little sad because this is the end of the class party era and he has only just started seeing the value in them. Once he hits middle school, it will be a different world.

But, I'm not going to worry about that now.
I have a party to plan and it is going to be awesome.

Sibling Smack-downs

The first time I saw the girls fight, it wasn't what I expected. I saw the conflict begin the same way it had since they were just months old; one would have a toy and the other would take it, and then the twin that was wronged would cry. And then I'd help resolve the situation modeling language, "she is sad because you took her toy. Let take turns." But on that day, before I could get to the language modeling stage, the wronged twin screamed a battle cry and then grabbed a fistful of golden locks belonging to the perpetrator. I suddenly found myself witnessing my very first two-year-old cat fight, torn between laughter and horror.

When sibling fight, it is hard not to be sucked up in the drama. After all, someone could get hurt, and as the kids get older, they will get hurt. And it is our job to teach them conflict management.  But to understand why people fight,  we have to understand the triggers. Usually it stems from a communication issue; they feel like they are not being heard, understood, or are so overwhelmed by their emotions that they feel like hitting is their only option. We all have seen adults fly off the handle from various communication failures. For a kid with intonation or expressive language issues paired with anxiety and attention seeking behaviors, the hitting seems like a reasonable "plan-B" because that is all they have. They are still learning to identify and express feelings which may take years to fully get a handle on.

 And then there is antagonistic sibling behavior.

Our siblings are the first peers we encounter.  Through the constant exposure, we subtly learn the intricacies of another person. We learn their likes and dislikes, we learn their moods and subconsciously we learn all their tender points and weaknesses. And then we learn what happens when we push their buttons and for many of us, it feels powerful to have that much impact on another person. It's like a mini soap opera unfolding in front of us and we are the Diva.

I have seen all of my kids try on their Diva hats. I have watched the twins smile triumphantly as they run off with a toy they just snatched from the other.  I have watched #3 make rules that the twins "have to follow" which usually turns into a screaming brawl.  I have watched #2 tell his siblings the things they can and can't do because, "I am the supreme ruler of this house and make all the rules. You must obey or be banished to Pluto which isn't even considered a planet anymore since it was declassified." That declaration is usually answered with screaming and a WWE take-down if #1 is involved. I've also seen #1 give the Diva a try. He is subtle, but when he sees that he has succeeded in agitating #2, he seems pleased with himself. 

I've also seen what happens when they don't have the words to express their frustrations. I've seen all types of objects go flying in rage. I've seen toddler versions of Jerry Springer in full motion with no body guards to help. And the only thing you can do is separate them, model the language they should have been using if their brains were able to act less impulsively: "I am angry. Give me back my toy. I  do no appreciate you taking my stuff. I feel like punching you in the face" And then go have some vodka.

Many times the Diva behavior triggers the Jerry Springer behavior.  If we see it brewing, we are able to tell the kids to "stop antagonizing each other", which does work if the punishment outweighs the feedback they're getting from the behavior.  Other times, we try redirection with a game, puzzle, YouTube video, and  anything that takes the attention away from each other. Sometimes it works and other times it doesn't.  For #2, he gets in such a rage that we have to let it play out while he is in a safe space far away from #1 who gets so agitated by the screaming that he tries to wrestle him to shut him up.

When I see the kids fight, my mind goes back to the fights I used to have with my younger brother when I was a kid.  I remember the fighting but not what they were about.  Not a one.  I do remember, there was no one around to model the words or to redirect us and somehow we manged to get through the phase unscathed; no scars, broken limbs or hard feeling.  So hopefully, the kids will learn the interpersonal communication skills they need to interact with each other and the general population. And with help from us, they'll learn how to identify their feelings and express themselves effectively. 

Or maybe, they'll be the next soap opera Diva.

Only time will tell.

When Traditions Change

For years, since #1 was a baby, we celebrated many holidays with our very close friends and god parents to four out of five children. We were very close, and to my kids, they were our family. Her dad was called Grandpa Mike and her mom was called Grandma Hilda. My kids called her and her husband "Aunt" and "Uncle" and all holidays included them. Birthdays,  Chanukah,  Passover and Rosh Hashanah  we went over to their house to celebrate. They were our family. My kids knew them better than most of our blood relations and they thought Auntie Norlyn and I were sisters with the same birthday, and somehow I had two moms.

And then we moved.

We moved to Baltimore in August 2010 and we were heartbroken about losing our local family. We decided that we didn't want the distance to take away from what we had established, so we made the effort the first year to keep our traditions in tact. 

That was a little harder than we thought. 

When I told the kids we were going back to NJ to visit, the kids seemed excited except for #1 who was distraught; "You mean we're moving back to New Jersey to live with the people in our old house?" He couldn't grasp the idea that we could go back and visit which didn't mean we were moving again. We decided that the only way we could help him transition to Maryland properly was to show him that our new house was our permanent home. We told him, "in the morning you'll wake up in your bed and in the night, you'll go to sleep in your bed. No matter where we go during the day, you'll always go to sleep in your bed."We hoped that was enough and prepared for the trip.

Three weeks after the move, we loaded everyone in the car and drove the three hours and forty minutes back to Auntie Norlyn's house for Rosh Hashanah. The drive was a little crazy, with two cases of car sickness and some crankiness, but we had a great time seeing our family.  When the meal was done, we piled back in the car for the ride home because they had school the next day. But when it got dark, #1 started  freaking out. "Am I going to sleep in my bed? We are lost forever. We will never go back to Maryland. Are we going to live at our old house with the new people?" We continued to reassure him as we drove home and when we got back, he still was upset.

Thanksgiving, we decided to go back again. We had celebrated every Thanksgiving of #2's life with them and wanted to continue that tradition. So we piled back in the car for the same day trip: three and half hours up, three and a half hours back. #1 was still upset, and when we visited our old neighbors who lived across the street from us in NJ, he stared out the window at our old house the entire time.

Chanukah, we didn't go. Passover, we went. 

And then the following year, we didn't go at all. #2 was having extreme anxiety issues and #1 was still freaking out about road trips; "are we leaving forever?"  And the twins did not travel well. They would scream within 15 minutes of being in the car. It was a sad decision but after listening to them scream for three hours in their car seats it was easier to make. Need to preserve sanity.

Slowly and awkwardly we had to do things on our own. We put together our Rosh Hashanah celebration and got the kids involved. We made the ceremony short and sweet and made it through. Hmm, not so bad. Thanksgiving was harder for us since Auntie Norlyn's house was always a hotbed of happiness and activity. It wasn't unusual for 20 people to be there. But, we did it and made up some new traditions. 

And, just when I thought we could try again, Grandpa Mike died. He was the Patriarch of the family. He was head of the table, leader of all religious gatherings. He held our baby boys at the Bris and he held the girls at their baby namings. He was our guy, the one #2 would want to be next to and talk with. He was gone, and #2 was really affected by his loss. "Mom, is Grandpa Mike going to come back with the dinosaurs after the next ice age?" How could you say "no" to that?

And just like that, a decade of tradition ended.

Since then, we've had to come up with our own list of traditions. We did continue a bunch of Auntie Norlyn's traditions like watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade, but we DVR it and watch it later in the day and speed through the commercials. During Chanukah, we dedicate one night just for her presents. Some times, we Skype while they open the presents and other times we take video or pictures and send them. We still keep them ingrained in our traditions. During Passover, we talk about how much we miss Grandpa Mike leading the ceremony,  Grandma's Hilda's home made noodles, Aunt Jill's Macaroons, Uncle Edo's big hugs and Auntie Norlyn's great smiles and the loads of Gluten free, dairy-free, egg free things she would find for #2. She always made him feel like royalty. Like it was super-awesome to have those allergies.

We're finding our way slowly but surely and we're grateful for the foundation we were given. And this week for Rosh Hashanah, we went to celebrate with 5000 other Baltimore Jews at Rosh Hashanah Under the Stars, which is a big picnic with a service in a park. And the second night, the kids wanted to eat outside, "just like we did at Auntie Norlyn's house when I was little", Julian added.

We may not be together, but they are still with us. Traditions are a reflection of love and spirit and we have plenty of that. Happy New year to all.

Norlyn & Me

#2 & Grandpa Mike

Wake me up when September ends

Every Labor day, I sit down with my last summer beer and think about the next 10 weeks. It is a crazy time for us. Within the next eight weeks, I have #2, #3, & #1's birthdays, our 17th wedding anniversary, school events, and countless soccer practices and games for three children.

If that wasn't enough, I decided to make things crazier by head coaching #3's team and assistant coaching the twins' team.

And it that wasn't enough. I realized that the PTA event I volunteered to chair, Disability awareness week, is in October too.

And if everything else above wasn't enough, I volunteered to be co-class mom for two classes.

"Just breathe", said Ryan Starr.  Didn't I just get a message from Adrienne to not spread myself too thin? Thin is subjective, just ask Karen Carpenter.

The old adage goes, "want something done, ask someone busy to do it." But the truth is, all my friends think I'm nuts. And they're right. Lucky for me, I am awesome at delegating. My ADHD shining though in a time of need.  

So how am I going to do it?

I'm combining #2 & #3's class parties. They will have their family parties on the day of their birthday and then they will celebrate at our friends bounce house together.  For the second year in a row, #1 told me he wanted a party instead of an electronic device. This is amazing and awesome and he will get whatever he wants, because it is just that awesome.

If we are lucky enough to have a babysitter, we will go out on our anniversary, otherwise, we'll do some sushi take-out after the kids go to sleep.

With soccer, I hope we can get #3 through the season without last year's constant declarations, "I hate soccer." I arranged for two of his teammates from last year to be on his team to give him a better transition. I secured enough Lego from Goodwill and EBay to bribe him all season long if necessary. The girls will be fine and probably just as fickle and whiny as all the other kids, no worries there.

Probably the most challenging will be the disability week. I have never done it before and I have no clue what is in store. I have to coordinate all the events and invite certain guests to come like the Ravens wheelchair basketball team to play against the teachers. I have to tap into what has been done in the past and then add to it. I must admit that I get a little giddy at the thought of the "try-on a disability" table and some of the kids getting to be "non-verbal for a while. I have visions of duct tape dancing in my head.

The class Halloween parties should be fine. I have great co-class moms that I can defer to who get my insanity.

I know over the next 10 weeks, something will be forgotten, someone will be angry and I'll be apologizing to someone, but I also know that I'd be doing that if I had committed to one thing or 10.

Just make sure the beer fridge is full. Because after two soccer games on a Saturday, a liquid lunch will be a necessity.

And then after we've finished everything, we can start Ice Hockey season. 
Bring it. At least then, I can hang on the bleachers with the other moms. 

Video game OCD

When I was a kid, I was into video games.  We used to schlep down to the corner store to play the big arcade games.  And when I was in my 20's, with oodles of disposable time, I was a huge gamer.  I loved getting sucked into a game.  I was into strategy games like The Sims and Civilization, Sim City and mystery games.  I could sit at that computer for hours.

Now, a million years later,  I have a multitude of game systems in my house, ranging from Wii, PS3, PSP, computers, iPads, iTouch, and iPhone, and I have time for none of it. There are a million apps available for the iPad and aside from looking for educational ones, I don't pay attention to all that is out there.

That is, until the girls were screaming that they HAD to play Tinkerbell. When the girls scream in tandem and Isaac is in the house, he is in my face instantly begging me, "They need you. Help them. Make them stop crying." Their crying/whining is painful. So painful, that you wish for that moment, that the world would swallow you up to put you out of your misery.

I had no idea what they wanted, but I grabbed the iPad and went to the app store and found a free Disney Tinkerbell app that you design a fairy. Ok, that's simple enough. I can get it and leave them so I could do some laundry. I told them that they couldn't have it if they were crying and in a heartbeat, they stopped. But, then I had to explain the game to them.

The game was a wee bit more complicated than designing fairies. First you designed a fairy, but then, your fairy became a fashion designer. You had a certain amount of fabric and could unlock designs and had to buy mannequins to display your designs and the fairies would come in and ask you to design them stuff. If you ran out of fabric, well, you could use real money to buy more fake fabric to make fake outfits for pretend fairies.  And then you had to train your bugs by playing games with them to get more fabric, and it cost stuff to wake them up if they fell asleep. It was crazy, and a bit more that a four year old could grasp. I felt myself taking over more and more.

Every time one of the fairies came into the store, I felt that obligation, Have to greet the customer and take their order. I heard myself saying to the girls, "No, we can't design all pink clothes, your customers want green." My intense gaming instincts were coming back to life to design fake clothes for fake fairies and I found myself pushing the girls to the side while trying to maintain the order of the game. They got mad at me for disrupting their plans, and there we were arguing about video games. It was sad, so sad.

I found myself playing the game after they went to bed to secure more "fabric" for them so they could design to their hearts content when they woke up the next morning. I sat there like a big dummy, forgetting to eat because I was staring at those freaking fairies.

When they woke up, they made a bee-line to the iPad to play with their fairies. They asked as they grabbed the iPad, "Momma, did you make me some pink clothes and get more fabric?" I replied, "Yes I did," and they squealed with delight.

I had to make a conscious effort to leave them alone and let them play. If they spent all their  diamonds and pixie dust, so be it. The world was not going to end if they made all pink clothes or ran out of "fabric." I had to put that competitive gamer back to work in the real world.  But at least they knew enough about the game to play with a little less guidance from me.

Pink is the new black. At least that what Pinkalicious says. And if you fairies don't like it, go shop somewhere else.

Waiting for the call

In Baltimore, yesterday was the first day of school. We prepped them the day before, by packing their backpacks and setting up their lunches. We showed them everything in their packs and talked about school. We had gone on the Friday before school began for their "sneak peek" so they could visit their new class rooms and meet their new teachers. They could see which classmates from their class the previous year were in their classes and which ones weren't. I was happy that the kids were placed with some of their friends, and my friends. We were glad that the kids had that opportunity so it could help with the transition to a smooth first day at school

But that was also the time that I realized that although we talked with the Assistant Principal about #3 having an aide, he didn't have one in place for the start of the year. Great. They are setting him up for failure. Great, just freaking great.

#3 is the most unpredictable of all the kids. His combination of PDD/NOS/ODD combined with some ADHD and sensory issues, makes him a wild card. He HATES to read and he only wants to do things on his terms. When he is in a cooperative mood, he is super. When he is motivated and happy, he is amazing. But when he is not, watch out. He can go from passive to atomic bomb in less than three seconds and his screams can put a flock of hungry seagulls to shame. He is unpredictable on most days and most of my frustration as a parent comes from trying to figure out the best way to deal with him. His fickleness and emotional vacillations have me on standby, I honestly never know how he is going to react when I ask him to do something or when his siblings approach him, and it is hard.

We knew this school year wasn't going to be easy, and now #3 was in first grade. He has to work. He has to read and he has to listen. He is with an amazing teacher, but I am waiting for it to go bad, because it will.

Their morning transitions went well. #1 was excited and fine. #2 was excited and happy to see his aide and his friends. #3 was happy. That is, until he actually had to make some sort of progress to go to school. He refused to get dressed, he refused to eat breakfast, he refused everything.  And when we started taking things away from him, he gladly gave them up indicating that he wasn't going to fold that easily. So we had to revert back to  "if you're not going to listen, then you'll be in time-out" strategy, which turned into a time-out scream-fest.

After a few minutes, I went to him and said, "I don't want to yell at you. Let's go and get dressed and you can earn some Lego after you had a good day." And for some reason, he went with me and husband took over and got him dressed, brushed and ready. He still was protesting, but #2 was engaging him in excited chatter which distracted him just enough to get him outside.

I managed to get a few pictures of them before he threw up his "no paparazzi" hands and refused all pictures.

After school, #2 went into a full explanation of which kids were in his class and how many years he has been with different ones and which ones he has for the first time. #1 had a "great" day.  And #3 didn't say much but we had his classmate over after school and she told me exactly how #3 did in class.  "Well, at first he was swinging around but he didn't hit anyone. And then he had to sit between the teachers legs because he was moving around the room. He was good for lunch though."I have a tell-all spy in the class. Love it. Gotta give her a lolly-pop.

I am wondering how long it is going to take before the newness wears off and #3 is causing problems. I wonder how long it will take before I get my first call from the principal explaining something he has done. And then I will ask again, "when is he getting an aide?" I then will be reminded of the complexities and red tape to getting an aide, but then, I may have to get my armor back out and fight this time. I was hoping that we didn't have to fight again, especially since I thought we were all on the same page about him needing one. I thought we had enough data from last year to prove the need.

So, I guess my first assignment of the school year is to talk to the Assistant Principal and ask her about the aide.  My kids go through so much, that it is hard to sit around and let them fail. That is not within my composition. It is much easier to be pro-active than reactive. Plus, the recovery time is less, and there is no need for my phone to ring. I like it better that way.

#2, my 4th grader

#1, my 5th grader

#3, my 1st grader