In the first year we were full of wonder,
unsure of what we were doing,
but we were doing it anyway.
You turned one and took your first steps,
we imagined your future before you.
At two you became more serious,
and fell in love with Buzz Light year and Woody.
Then, three.
Our big boy.
We counted your words,
Waited for gestures.
Four: school, therapists, Teletubbies and puzzles,
a cruise where you were lost and found.
At five you stepped into "big brother" shoes,
protective, watchful.
Six playing T-ball.
Seven playing Soccer.
Eight, your a cub scout.
You like being part of the team.
Nine "ah-ha" you know letters and sounds.
Disney Double Digit: planes, trains and automobiles.
Eleven, twelve, the bat boy who hit a home run.
Thirteen finding independence; puberty.
Fourteen...so much more to come.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Maybe there is something I don't see
Recently I wondered if there is something that I don't see in my son; that somehow the choices we've made for him are holding him back. What is it that I am missing? Over the years we've lived by two basic standards: set him up for success and provide him with a quality life.
So, I don't see him the way others might. When I look at him, I see all the possibilities that stretch before him. I see his strengths, his assets, his abilities. I choose not to see what limits him. But that doesn't mean that I do not live with the consequences of what limits him. That doesn't mean I ignore his faults. Spend an hour or so with Jackson, you'll find that those limitations literally scream at you; you would have to be deaf and blind to miss them. I choose not to let those encompass who he is.
When you look at my son, I want you to see the person that he is. I want you to define him by his sweet nature, his sense of humor, his connection with you. I do not want you to immediately identify him as disabled. I refuse to enable that stereotype, and I have generally found that since this is my attitude, it has become the attitude of those people around us.
There are times that I am confronted with people who do not share my philosophy and it makes me question everything we have worked toward in building Jackson's life. It makes me ask, "Is there something I don't see?"
Change is inevitable. I believe Jackson will promote change in the hearts of many others. It's possible (though I do not believe likely) that his story could change those people who seemingly want him to fit in a box; change them to see he is so much more than the autism that limits him.
I have answered my own question. Clearly, there is something I don't see. Obviously, I have chosen to ignore the attitude of some people. I have intentionally rocked the boat and pushed the limits. Indulge me, how's that working for me?
So, I don't see him the way others might. When I look at him, I see all the possibilities that stretch before him. I see his strengths, his assets, his abilities. I choose not to see what limits him. But that doesn't mean that I do not live with the consequences of what limits him. That doesn't mean I ignore his faults. Spend an hour or so with Jackson, you'll find that those limitations literally scream at you; you would have to be deaf and blind to miss them. I choose not to let those encompass who he is.
When you look at my son, I want you to see the person that he is. I want you to define him by his sweet nature, his sense of humor, his connection with you. I do not want you to immediately identify him as disabled. I refuse to enable that stereotype, and I have generally found that since this is my attitude, it has become the attitude of those people around us.
There are times that I am confronted with people who do not share my philosophy and it makes me question everything we have worked toward in building Jackson's life. It makes me ask, "Is there something I don't see?"
Change is inevitable. I believe Jackson will promote change in the hearts of many others. It's possible (though I do not believe likely) that his story could change those people who seemingly want him to fit in a box; change them to see he is so much more than the autism that limits him.
I have answered my own question. Clearly, there is something I don't see. Obviously, I have chosen to ignore the attitude of some people. I have intentionally rocked the boat and pushed the limits. Indulge me, how's that working for me?
Friday, September 16, 2011
Dance!
Remember junior high dances? The music, the drama, the fun? Tonight I get to watch from the sidelines; take it all in. Jackson loves these dances, tonight for the first time he seemed to actually contemplate what he would wear. Once we got here, he had to get a stash of snacks from the concession stand and then he was ready to rock and roll. He practiced the cha-cha shuffle and cupid shuffle during a study period at school. I would have loved to been a fly on the wall watching 6 boys bust a move with him. Tonight, he's taking it al as I work on this entry he is doing the chicken dance. Its the minor miracles like tonight that take my breath away giving me back pieces of a life lost. I have to smile through tears as my sweet boy learns to navigate through life. Tonight, I believe I can see the wings of the angels that guide him. We are blessed beyond measure.
Monday, August 29, 2011
"He's a part of the team." What if?
Today Jackson had pictures taken with the eighth grade football team. He is going to be the "water boy/manager" for the home games. Watching him participate took my breath away. It wasn't easy or comfortable for him, but he did it. None of the kids made fun of him or laughed at him. One kid wondered why he was there and another one answered before I could: "He's part of the team."
Wow. That's not the answer I was ready to give. I was ready to explain how he was going to "help" the managers at home games. Instead one of his peers answered simply and BIG: "He's part of the team." Wow.
That got me wondering: What if every special needs kid had the opportunity to be included that Jackson has had? What if every kid, starting in Nursery School was accepted? What if parents didn't have to fight for minimal services, accept mediocrity and could instead focus on building support? What if an attitude of inclusion were truly promoted from the top down? What if we didn't have to accomplish this in isolation? What if parents were encouraged to stretch special kids towards typical opportunities? What if our goal was to build relationships within and among typical peers? What if we weren't so focused on isolation? What if, instead of telling parents what is best for these kids, they are asked, "what do you think?" What if the attitude of that football player were the attitude of those decision makers? He made it sound so simple: "He's part of the team."
Wow. That's not the answer I was ready to give. I was ready to explain how he was going to "help" the managers at home games. Instead one of his peers answered simply and BIG: "He's part of the team." Wow.
That got me wondering: What if every special needs kid had the opportunity to be included that Jackson has had? What if every kid, starting in Nursery School was accepted? What if parents didn't have to fight for minimal services, accept mediocrity and could instead focus on building support? What if an attitude of inclusion were truly promoted from the top down? What if we didn't have to accomplish this in isolation? What if parents were encouraged to stretch special kids towards typical opportunities? What if our goal was to build relationships within and among typical peers? What if we weren't so focused on isolation? What if, instead of telling parents what is best for these kids, they are asked, "what do you think?" What if the attitude of that football player were the attitude of those decision makers? He made it sound so simple: "He's part of the team."
Sunday, August 28, 2011
"I got Garfield"
Something Jackson has struggled to control for years is the use of the pronoun "I". He would substitute "you" as in "You go see Elmo" or "You fell on the playground." We would try to prompt him for "I" statements by starting for him, "I want to go see..." or "I fell on the playground". I think it was an IEP speech goal for at least 4 years. Well, this summer, in his own time, he seems to finally have control over "I." Like so many other things, this skill just kind of appeared. I think it started with:
"I rode the roller coasters at Michigan Adventures."
and has evolved to:
"I went to Mall of America."
"I saw Winnie the Pooh."
Last night at dinner, he played his favorite arcade game: the crane game. The kid will sit and watch YouTube videos of crane game wins over and over. He even has a ritual with his grandma where she has to sit next to him and narrate while he watches video after video. All that watching seems to have paid off. Last night this is what we heard, "I won a green flame Garfield. I got Garfield from the crane game. I winned a Garfield." Now, I realize that for most kids, winning the toy in itself is a feat of skill. For Jackson it was also a moment of mastery: "I". :)
This morning, he wrote his dad this note:
Ernein toy wallmrt.
[Translation Ernie toy Wal-Mart]. So after church while shopping they picked up an Ernie toy at Wal-Mart. [Never mind the fact that the kid has upwards of 20 Ernie toys already]. When I asked him which Wal-Mart, he responded, "Lima Road". Again, another WOW! moment for this kid. He continues to amaze, surprise and teach us each day.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
School Days
Jackson started 8th grade. Here he is on the first day:
This weekend I'm reflecting on all it took to get him here. Literally. I'm not just thinking of the in the moment stuff (like will he remember to put on deodorant and what shoes will he wear), but also the years of school that came before. I'm remembering how in kindergarten and first grade we visited his class and met his teacher to take photos before school started. I can't forget second grade when he missed the first day of school because he was having dental surgery. I'm remembering 4th grade when Arthur and DW went to school with him everyday, and he is remembering 5th grade when pirate Big Bird and Elmo accompanied him each day.
So much emotion, effort, energy, time and resources are reflected in this photo. We know it's best for him to stay in school with the kids he's been with since he was four, but there are others with another idea. Getting him here didn't always seem possible, and though I've always had a vision and purpose for our path, I haven't always been confident that my path was God's path for my son. Somehow, God quietly reminded me this summer on more than one occasion, we are following His plan for Jackson. I know God must have been with us all on those roller coasters at Michigan Adventures (!) and I could feel His warmth and love when my big sweet boy enjoyed the drive-in theatre with several friends.
Now I am praying that He will continue to be with and bless my son. The beginning of school is almost invigorating. Everything is shiny and new, kind of like a box of crayolas not yet colored with: sharp, sleek just waiting for a kid to pick them up and make some magic with them. I am praying God will continue to use those vibrant colors to illustrate my son's life. But if His plan includes some muted colors and greys we are ready for that too. I will hold fast to His plan for my son, and pray us through.
This weekend I'm reflecting on all it took to get him here. Literally. I'm not just thinking of the in the moment stuff (like will he remember to put on deodorant and what shoes will he wear), but also the years of school that came before. I'm remembering how in kindergarten and first grade we visited his class and met his teacher to take photos before school started. I can't forget second grade when he missed the first day of school because he was having dental surgery. I'm remembering 4th grade when Arthur and DW went to school with him everyday, and he is remembering 5th grade when pirate Big Bird and Elmo accompanied him each day.
So much emotion, effort, energy, time and resources are reflected in this photo. We know it's best for him to stay in school with the kids he's been with since he was four, but there are others with another idea. Getting him here didn't always seem possible, and though I've always had a vision and purpose for our path, I haven't always been confident that my path was God's path for my son. Somehow, God quietly reminded me this summer on more than one occasion, we are following His plan for Jackson. I know God must have been with us all on those roller coasters at Michigan Adventures (!) and I could feel His warmth and love when my big sweet boy enjoyed the drive-in theatre with several friends.
Now I am praying that He will continue to be with and bless my son. The beginning of school is almost invigorating. Everything is shiny and new, kind of like a box of crayolas not yet colored with: sharp, sleek just waiting for a kid to pick them up and make some magic with them. I am praying God will continue to use those vibrant colors to illustrate my son's life. But if His plan includes some muted colors and greys we are ready for that too. I will hold fast to His plan for my son, and pray us through.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Summer Update
Here we are in early August, how did that happen? Our summer has been busy (when isn't it?) and Jackson is enjoying days without school and less structure. Here are some high-lights:
Turtle Days
This year Turtle Days had a new ride/game company. This actually worked in our favor, while we missed the giant Ferris wheel, we were happy to have fewer game options to tempt Jackson. He does seem to have a gift for noticing the obscure. Somehow, he managed to find the few licensed characters (Bert, Pooh, Zoe, Kanga) the games offered. We did come away from the fair for a lot less money this year, and Jackson honestly handled the end of the fair much better than in the past.
Fireworks
Jackson isn't a fan of fireworks. He seems to like the visual display, but the noise involved is just too much for him. This year during our friends annual fireworks party, Jackson did a great job of self-regulating. He stayed in the house and watched the view from the sliding glass doors. We were pleased that one of his friends was happy to sit inside and hang out with him to watch the show indoors.
"Fun Fridays"
We kind of have a "fun Friday" summer tradition in our family. We've had fun Fridays for years in the summer with different friends. This summer he enjoyed seeing Cars and spending time playing games at Paige's Crossing. His favorite was going with a group of friends to see the new Winnie the Pooh movie. God bless his friends who went with him, I remember buying 6 tickets to see it and the window guy asks, "how many under 12?" and I have to answer "none".
Michigan Adventures
Our church youth group went to the Michigan Adventures amusement and water park in July. Earlier in the summer we saw a Michigan Adventures billboard and he talked incessantly about it. We had to mark the date on the calendar and count the days down to July 18. He was beyond obsessed and excited about it. Finally, the day comes for us to make the trip with the youth group. Jackson had an incredible time at the park. We bribed him to ride a roller coaster, truth is the first coaster we rode was INSANE. I thought we were gonna roll right off the tracks! I also knew for sure he wouldn't ever ride another coaster once we got off that thing. I was wrong. He couldn't wait to get on another coaster. In fact, he was walking faster than any of the rest of us to get to the Thunderhawk coaster. As we walked up the path to the loading station for the ride, Jackson stopped and said, "Mom, I'm scared." I caught my breath in my throat, and told him it was fine and we didn't have to ride this ride we could go back to the water park. He answered, "No, I want to ride it." I need a pause button here, because I just couldn't believe he gave words to those emotions, further I couldn't believe he wanted to get on the ride. I choked back tears and got on that coaster with my amazing son. I think it was the best coaster ride I've ever had. We went on to have fun in the water park and he made sure we left with all the kids in our group. On the ride home, the boys tried to teach him to make fart noises through a straw. He also got a big kick out of the cow that we almost hit in the road on the way home. He still giggles as he says, "A freaking cow was in the road".
Vacation
We went on vacation to the Mall of America where we enjoyed Nickelodeon Universe and caught a Twins/Tigers game. Jackson was less thrilled with the roller coasters here, "No roller coasters for Jackson." Though he did willingly ride them, he wasn't as excited about them as he was when he was with the youth group. I credit the "peer factor" with that. Jackson is much more willing to do things he sees his friends doing. It's God's way of reminding me why I fight for him to stay with these kids. Anyway, on vacation he did a great job adjusting to a variety of settings. We left Minneapolis and went on to spend a couple of days in the Wisconsin Dells. Jackson enjoyed the water slides and wave pool at Noah's Ark Water Park. He wasn't crazy about going on the Duck Boat Tour (he called them Chia Boats, though I never figured out why) but then once the tour got started, he had an awesome time and laughed as we went from land to water in the duck boat.
Birthday Party
The weekend we returned from vacation, he went to a birthday party. He really didn't want to go, I think he was just worn out from the frantic vacation. I made him go, thinking he'd just make an appearance. He ended up staying the whole time and having a great time with the kids who all just accept him for who he is. I never stop feeling grateful (and humbled) by how included and accepted by his peers he is. We are blessed as a family by our community.
Last Hurrah
So, as I type this, I am trying to decide how to wind the summer down. We need to start getting him prepared to start back to school. He really needs the structure and routine, but the adjustment is always a nightmare. This year, we add puberty into the mix. I'm just praying we all adjust and settle into routine.
At the end of the day, I'm pleased with how the summer has gone for Jackson. There have been times I didn't think I could survive another minute of summer (like when he asked 40 times in 30 minutes about going to Michigan Adventures with the youth group) and there have been times I want to seal off and keep forever scared (taking 6 teenagers to see Pooh, having Jackson try the zip line on vacation, knowing he's making memories). We survived another summer and are looking forward to football season!
Turtle Days
This year Turtle Days had a new ride/game company. This actually worked in our favor, while we missed the giant Ferris wheel, we were happy to have fewer game options to tempt Jackson. He does seem to have a gift for noticing the obscure. Somehow, he managed to find the few licensed characters (Bert, Pooh, Zoe, Kanga) the games offered. We did come away from the fair for a lot less money this year, and Jackson honestly handled the end of the fair much better than in the past.
Fireworks
Jackson isn't a fan of fireworks. He seems to like the visual display, but the noise involved is just too much for him. This year during our friends annual fireworks party, Jackson did a great job of self-regulating. He stayed in the house and watched the view from the sliding glass doors. We were pleased that one of his friends was happy to sit inside and hang out with him to watch the show indoors.
"Fun Fridays"
We kind of have a "fun Friday" summer tradition in our family. We've had fun Fridays for years in the summer with different friends. This summer he enjoyed seeing Cars and spending time playing games at Paige's Crossing. His favorite was going with a group of friends to see the new Winnie the Pooh movie. God bless his friends who went with him, I remember buying 6 tickets to see it and the window guy asks, "how many under 12?" and I have to answer "none".
Michigan Adventures
Our church youth group went to the Michigan Adventures amusement and water park in July. Earlier in the summer we saw a Michigan Adventures billboard and he talked incessantly about it. We had to mark the date on the calendar and count the days down to July 18. He was beyond obsessed and excited about it. Finally, the day comes for us to make the trip with the youth group. Jackson had an incredible time at the park. We bribed him to ride a roller coaster, truth is the first coaster we rode was INSANE. I thought we were gonna roll right off the tracks! I also knew for sure he wouldn't ever ride another coaster once we got off that thing. I was wrong. He couldn't wait to get on another coaster. In fact, he was walking faster than any of the rest of us to get to the Thunderhawk coaster. As we walked up the path to the loading station for the ride, Jackson stopped and said, "Mom, I'm scared." I caught my breath in my throat, and told him it was fine and we didn't have to ride this ride we could go back to the water park. He answered, "No, I want to ride it." I need a pause button here, because I just couldn't believe he gave words to those emotions, further I couldn't believe he wanted to get on the ride. I choked back tears and got on that coaster with my amazing son. I think it was the best coaster ride I've ever had. We went on to have fun in the water park and he made sure we left with all the kids in our group. On the ride home, the boys tried to teach him to make fart noises through a straw. He also got a big kick out of the cow that we almost hit in the road on the way home. He still giggles as he says, "A freaking cow was in the road".
Vacation
We went on vacation to the Mall of America where we enjoyed Nickelodeon Universe and caught a Twins/Tigers game. Jackson was less thrilled with the roller coasters here, "No roller coasters for Jackson." Though he did willingly ride them, he wasn't as excited about them as he was when he was with the youth group. I credit the "peer factor" with that. Jackson is much more willing to do things he sees his friends doing. It's God's way of reminding me why I fight for him to stay with these kids. Anyway, on vacation he did a great job adjusting to a variety of settings. We left Minneapolis and went on to spend a couple of days in the Wisconsin Dells. Jackson enjoyed the water slides and wave pool at Noah's Ark Water Park. He wasn't crazy about going on the Duck Boat Tour (he called them Chia Boats, though I never figured out why) but then once the tour got started, he had an awesome time and laughed as we went from land to water in the duck boat.
Birthday Party
The weekend we returned from vacation, he went to a birthday party. He really didn't want to go, I think he was just worn out from the frantic vacation. I made him go, thinking he'd just make an appearance. He ended up staying the whole time and having a great time with the kids who all just accept him for who he is. I never stop feeling grateful (and humbled) by how included and accepted by his peers he is. We are blessed as a family by our community.
Last Hurrah
So, as I type this, I am trying to decide how to wind the summer down. We need to start getting him prepared to start back to school. He really needs the structure and routine, but the adjustment is always a nightmare. This year, we add puberty into the mix. I'm just praying we all adjust and settle into routine.
At the end of the day, I'm pleased with how the summer has gone for Jackson. There have been times I didn't think I could survive another minute of summer (like when he asked 40 times in 30 minutes about going to Michigan Adventures with the youth group) and there have been times I want to seal off and keep forever scared (taking 6 teenagers to see Pooh, having Jackson try the zip line on vacation, knowing he's making memories). We survived another summer and are looking forward to football season!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Warrior Mothers
Sunday is Mother's Day, I always dread reading all the cards, trying to find one that shares the message of my heart and more. This year, I have decided to fore go the "perfect" card and share these stories of the mothers of my life, who have shaped and defined me as a mother.
I would not be a "warrior mother" without the influence of many amazing women. The most amazing of all, my mom. My mom is the kind of person everyone likes. She is kind, sweet and rarely says anything unkind about someone. She is quick to turn the other cheek and is my example of treating others the way you want to be treated. She anchored me in my faith, gave me room to grow into my own person and catches me when I fall. My mother never gave up, and she gave us all she had to give. I continue to be amazed at how she managed us all and how she continues to be full of quiet strength. I want to be like her when I grow up; less likely to be emotional, more likely to be a strong shield. She is my confidant, hero, role model and friend. If you know me and love me, you must know that my mother is of great character.
Though my mother has shaped the mother I have become, others have colored the canvas. My grandma, who grows weaker each time I see her, is another example of strong faith and value. She always had a way of making me feel important. My childhood was filled with colorful experiences with my her. She showed me the world and knew much about Gods creatures that filled it. Simple things made her happy. She grew up recycling long before the first Earth Day or Al Gore's global warming. If momma was the coffee, grandma was definitely the sugar and cream. She made difficult things a bit more bearable, and memories with her are colored with the giggles and awe of a younger me.
Now, through tear filled eyes. I remember my beloved Mimi; whom I never remember seeing drive a car (though I am told that she knew how). Mimi shaped much of my early childhood, a time of innocence and joy. Mimi knew that making triangle shaped white cheese toasties would make a day special. She would always make time to chat with me on the phone, and while I have little memory of what words filled those conversations, I know she was happy to sit and listen. Her legacy, I think, is resilience. The power to continue to see a better day is coming and to embrace the blessings of each day. These are so much a part of who I am, years ago I wouldn't have dreamed how I would need them.
My grandma Anders came into my life when I was a teen and whispered great words of wisdom: "go now and experience life while you are young with no responsibility". Grandma was an example of grace and joy. I will always be grateful for the love she gave me.
Aunt Judy who also found ways to make me feel loved and special. (And still does). Aunt Judy is the example of the aunt I am certain each of my sisters and I all aspire to be like for our nieces and nephews. My darling Aunt Kathy, whom I miss greatly and regret so much not telling more often when I could how much I loved her back. She always, always made me feel like I belonged to (and with) her. She would joke how much we were alike. Aunt Kathy showed me unconditional, unquestioning love. And Aunt Peg, how you demonstrated devotion inspired me. My aunt Peg has the grace of my grandma, and an amazing spirit that is an example of faith to me. Each of us is given a path to walk with God, and Aunt Peg is my example of keeping the faith; finding God in everyday life.
I would not be a "warrior mother" without the influence of many amazing women. The most amazing of all, my mom. My mom is the kind of person everyone likes. She is kind, sweet and rarely says anything unkind about someone. She is quick to turn the other cheek and is my example of treating others the way you want to be treated. She anchored me in my faith, gave me room to grow into my own person and catches me when I fall. My mother never gave up, and she gave us all she had to give. I continue to be amazed at how she managed us all and how she continues to be full of quiet strength. I want to be like her when I grow up; less likely to be emotional, more likely to be a strong shield. She is my confidant, hero, role model and friend. If you know me and love me, you must know that my mother is of great character.
Though my mother has shaped the mother I have become, others have colored the canvas. My grandma, who grows weaker each time I see her, is another example of strong faith and value. She always had a way of making me feel important. My childhood was filled with colorful experiences with my her. She showed me the world and knew much about Gods creatures that filled it. Simple things made her happy. She grew up recycling long before the first Earth Day or Al Gore's global warming. If momma was the coffee, grandma was definitely the sugar and cream. She made difficult things a bit more bearable, and memories with her are colored with the giggles and awe of a younger me.
Now, through tear filled eyes. I remember my beloved Mimi; whom I never remember seeing drive a car (though I am told that she knew how). Mimi shaped much of my early childhood, a time of innocence and joy. Mimi knew that making triangle shaped white cheese toasties would make a day special. She would always make time to chat with me on the phone, and while I have little memory of what words filled those conversations, I know she was happy to sit and listen. Her legacy, I think, is resilience. The power to continue to see a better day is coming and to embrace the blessings of each day. These are so much a part of who I am, years ago I wouldn't have dreamed how I would need them.
My grandma Anders came into my life when I was a teen and whispered great words of wisdom: "go now and experience life while you are young with no responsibility". Grandma was an example of grace and joy. I will always be grateful for the love she gave me.
Aunt Judy who also found ways to make me feel loved and special. (And still does). Aunt Judy is the example of the aunt I am certain each of my sisters and I all aspire to be like for our nieces and nephews. My darling Aunt Kathy, whom I miss greatly and regret so much not telling more often when I could how much I loved her back. She always, always made me feel like I belonged to (and with) her. She would joke how much we were alike. Aunt Kathy showed me unconditional, unquestioning love. And Aunt Peg, how you demonstrated devotion inspired me. My aunt Peg has the grace of my grandma, and an amazing spirit that is an example of faith to me. Each of us is given a path to walk with God, and Aunt Peg is my example of keeping the faith; finding God in everyday life.
My mother in law, Barb, who reminds me-without knowing-that someday, I will give trust a piece of my heart to another women. Being a mom to boys who will one day cleave unto another. I reflect often on what I hope for my sons and am grateful for the gift of your son.
One last momma, I couldn't leave out, Kathy. You were a role model for me in a way to this day, you probably do not understand. You renewed my faith in family at a time in my life when I wasn't convinced. You made me a part of your family and to this day I know I am loved. Thank you for modeling patience and love for me; for helping me appreciate "picking my battles". Thank you for choosing to include me in your life.
From each of these, I form the "warrior mother" me, striving to treat others kindly, to be resilient and taking time to appreciate the small things. A mother who tries to make my conversations count, who knows when not to sweat the small things. I try to find the ordinary miracles of the day and work to share the love and faith that makes this time on earth mean more. As this Mother's Day approaches, I am grateful for these examples and hopeful that each of them sees a piece of themselves in the mother I am today.
One last momma, I couldn't leave out, Kathy. You were a role model for me in a way to this day, you probably do not understand. You renewed my faith in family at a time in my life when I wasn't convinced. You made me a part of your family and to this day I know I am loved. Thank you for modeling patience and love for me; for helping me appreciate "picking my battles". Thank you for choosing to include me in your life.
From each of these, I form the "warrior mother" me, striving to treat others kindly, to be resilient and taking time to appreciate the small things. A mother who tries to make my conversations count, who knows when not to sweat the small things. I try to find the ordinary miracles of the day and work to share the love and faith that makes this time on earth mean more. As this Mother's Day approaches, I am grateful for these examples and hopeful that each of them sees a piece of themselves in the mother I am today.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Out of the darkness
I've contemplated enough; I've come to this conclusion: Ten years ago, the 31 year old me was terrified at the future and determined to "fix" my son. [I was certain it was something we could easily handle and clung to the "high functioning" label many had placed on my sweet son]. Here's the thing I didn't know: autism didn't literally take away my son. In fact, we've managed delightfully in spite of it.
So, this is what I have to say to that younger, determined, "warrior-mother" me:
You will cry tears of joy as you watch your son hop on a two wheeler and proceed to ride it down the street.
You will be amazed at what a loving and protective big brother your firstborn becomes.
You will cheer with the rest of the crowd as your son runs the bases in T-ball.
You will become a voice for others, sometimes not knowingly.
You will laugh when your son uses "damn" appropriately; then desperately try to figure out when he heard you or his dad use that word. (Only to discover weeks later that he heard it while watching a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie).
You will choke back tears as you watch him perform with his peers in a music program.
You will find joy in watching your son mimic others.
You will inspire others and become a role model.
You will be speechless that suddenly, almost overnight, your son knows all the letters of the alphbet and corresponding sounds.
You will laugh in the face of the "autism gods" many times over.
You will face the future, tentatively and bravely.
You will rejoice in the miracle of 2-word phrases, then 4-words, then sentences with too many words to count.
You will come to know the "window" for learning does NOT close at 7.
You will conquer the movie theatre trauma.
You will cheer with many others at his homerun in the ball park.
You will know gratitude and humbleness to a depth you cannot imagine.
You will learn how much your son has to teach others.
You will find blessings in the darkness.
You will be able to breathe.
Somehow, someway, you will find the strength within you to be a mother to an incredible son that God gifted you with.
You will be grateful for all that he is, and sometimes for all that he isn't.
Into the light, I see the other side.
So, this is what I have to say to that younger, determined, "warrior-mother" me:
You will cry tears of joy as you watch your son hop on a two wheeler and proceed to ride it down the street.
You will be amazed at what a loving and protective big brother your firstborn becomes.
You will cheer with the rest of the crowd as your son runs the bases in T-ball.
You will become a voice for others, sometimes not knowingly.
You will laugh when your son uses "damn" appropriately; then desperately try to figure out when he heard you or his dad use that word. (Only to discover weeks later that he heard it while watching a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie).
You will choke back tears as you watch him perform with his peers in a music program.
You will find joy in watching your son mimic others.
You will inspire others and become a role model.
You will be speechless that suddenly, almost overnight, your son knows all the letters of the alphbet and corresponding sounds.
You will laugh in the face of the "autism gods" many times over.
You will face the future, tentatively and bravely.
You will rejoice in the miracle of 2-word phrases, then 4-words, then sentences with too many words to count.
You will come to know the "window" for learning does NOT close at 7.
You will conquer the movie theatre trauma.
You will cheer with many others at his homerun in the ball park.
You will know gratitude and humbleness to a depth you cannot imagine.
You will learn how much your son has to teach others.
You will find blessings in the darkness.
You will be able to breathe.
Somehow, someway, you will find the strength within you to be a mother to an incredible son that God gifted you with.
You will be grateful for all that he is, and sometimes for all that he isn't.
Into the light, I see the other side.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Why does this still surprise me?
We are coming into our second decade of living with autism.
The second decade--that gives me pause.
Ten years ago, I had no idea that this could continue to be so heartbreaking; such a struggle. I wasn't prepared for the roller coaster ride that would become my future. In retrospect, that makes sense; I absolutely did not have the strength then to endure or process the extent to which autism would play a part of our lives. If you read this often, you know that I try to see the blessings that fill my life because of my son.
I rarely go to the dark side. The side that leaves a festering wound that refuses to heal, like a scab I obsessively pick. This is one of those moments, I can't help myself or find my way out of the darkness. A time when I feel suffocated by how autism has robbed me of my son. How it has stolen his childhood and taken many things from my family that I have no way of getting back. How it has the power to define his future and limit his opportunities.
Autism has been on our family vacations, is part of church every Sunday, at weddings, birthdays and Christmas's. Autism is the black shadow that looms and without question is not to be ignored. It so greatly defines our being that even our typical child has suffered residual effects. Parts of his childhood are colored by the dark shadows.
A decade of living with autism.
As I wander through this darkness there are glimpses of light. Muted grays mixed within the black. The reminders that this journey has not been with out purpose; our lives are colored with unusual joy. Happiness in the little things; "ordinary miracles." A rainbow in the storm: his pure heart and genuine laughter.
The only assurance of the coming decade is this: autism will be a part of our family. The autism shadow will continue to cloud our experiences. My weapon against the darkness is prayer and attitude. Prayer pierces the darkness with light; turns the canvas of life from black and white to brilliant colors. In the next decade my son will remain a child of God, full of purpose and light. I will cling to the Lord as my guide into His light. And continue to pierce the darkness with light.
The second decade--that gives me pause.
Ten years ago, I had no idea that this could continue to be so heartbreaking; such a struggle. I wasn't prepared for the roller coaster ride that would become my future. In retrospect, that makes sense; I absolutely did not have the strength then to endure or process the extent to which autism would play a part of our lives. If you read this often, you know that I try to see the blessings that fill my life because of my son.
I rarely go to the dark side. The side that leaves a festering wound that refuses to heal, like a scab I obsessively pick. This is one of those moments, I can't help myself or find my way out of the darkness. A time when I feel suffocated by how autism has robbed me of my son. How it has stolen his childhood and taken many things from my family that I have no way of getting back. How it has the power to define his future and limit his opportunities.
Autism has been on our family vacations, is part of church every Sunday, at weddings, birthdays and Christmas's. Autism is the black shadow that looms and without question is not to be ignored. It so greatly defines our being that even our typical child has suffered residual effects. Parts of his childhood are colored by the dark shadows.
A decade of living with autism.
As I wander through this darkness there are glimpses of light. Muted grays mixed within the black. The reminders that this journey has not been with out purpose; our lives are colored with unusual joy. Happiness in the little things; "ordinary miracles." A rainbow in the storm: his pure heart and genuine laughter.
The only assurance of the coming decade is this: autism will be a part of our family. The autism shadow will continue to cloud our experiences. My weapon against the darkness is prayer and attitude. Prayer pierces the darkness with light; turns the canvas of life from black and white to brilliant colors. In the next decade my son will remain a child of God, full of purpose and light. I will cling to the Lord as my guide into His light. And continue to pierce the darkness with light.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Time Capsule
Once upon a time, I was an overzealous expectant mom with a grand idea: a time capsule. We were so overjoyed to finally be pregnant; allowing ourselves to dream about this life we created. So, in the final trimester of my pregnancy I decided to make a time capsule for our beloved baby. We sent out letters to friends and family all over the country with a survey of sorts and imagined when we would open the coveted envelopes. One friend suggested when he graduated high school, another maybe when he was studying his family tree as a 10 year old. We never really settled on a time for sure; I decided I would know when the time was right; when those words would mean the most to him.
I stumbled across the box today, filled with baby outfits, his hospital hat and a pin from Northside Hospital announcing "I'm a Dad". The box also holds his first boy scouts derby car, a paint stained t-shirt from his first experience with finger paints, a beanie baby and newspapers from the day he was born. (He was born on a Sunday, so the papers are thick!) Seeing all the memorabilia put my heart in my throat for a moment. Made me reflect for a moment on all that we lost...
I'm trying not to stay in that moment, praying that truly I will know the right time to open those envelopes. The time when it will be most meaningful to my special son. There is a seed of hope inside me that believes there will be a time, in my lifetime, he will understand how special those letters are. And then, this journey will be in its own time capsule, a memory from another time when autism colored so much of our life. In the end, there is always hope.
I stumbled across the box today, filled with baby outfits, his hospital hat and a pin from Northside Hospital announcing "I'm a Dad". The box also holds his first boy scouts derby car, a paint stained t-shirt from his first experience with finger paints, a beanie baby and newspapers from the day he was born. (He was born on a Sunday, so the papers are thick!) Seeing all the memorabilia put my heart in my throat for a moment. Made me reflect for a moment on all that we lost...
I'm trying not to stay in that moment, praying that truly I will know the right time to open those envelopes. The time when it will be most meaningful to my special son. There is a seed of hope inside me that believes there will be a time, in my lifetime, he will understand how special those letters are. And then, this journey will be in its own time capsule, a memory from another time when autism colored so much of our life. In the end, there is always hope.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
World Autism Awareness
1 in 110
I wish those were my odds to win the lottery...I can't see that statistic now and not know the significant meaning behind it. 1 in 110 children are on the autism spectrum. Last Sunday's Parade Magazine featured the headline: "Autism's Lost Generation". It's sobering, haunting, and depressing to consider what's been lost to autism. I generally try to find the good in it; see the positive side of the hand dealt to my son. The joy he often has in his heart is genuine, pure. So, in honor of autism awareness, this is what I want you to know about autism (and my son):
I wish those were my odds to win the lottery...I can't see that statistic now and not know the significant meaning behind it. 1 in 110 children are on the autism spectrum. Last Sunday's Parade Magazine featured the headline: "Autism's Lost Generation". It's sobering, haunting, and depressing to consider what's been lost to autism. I generally try to find the good in it; see the positive side of the hand dealt to my son. The joy he often has in his heart is genuine, pure. So, in honor of autism awareness, this is what I want you to know about autism (and my son):
*Autism robs my son of the ability to express his ideas and emotions clearly; but that doesn't mean he doesn't hear or comprehend.
*Without words, my son speaks clearly to those who are open to his world.
*Though socially challenged, he wants friends and yearns to belong as much as any other kid his age.
*Extreme sounds, sights, smells and sensations can be overwhelming to him. He was probably 9 before he could tolerate a movie theatre; 11 before he could "enjoy" fireworks. He is able to work through his sensitivity to some things, but others will always be an issue.
*We take nothing for granted. Every part of our lives is pre-planned; there is always a back up plan.
*Autism is expensive, period. It just is.
*Jackson is intiutive; he can sense people who are "on his side" and steers clear of those who are not.
*We choose to have him participate with his peers as often as possible. Our motto is "set him up for success." We expose him to as much as possible and refuse to let autism limit his experiences.
*Understand that people with autism (especially children with autism) look normal. Looks can be deceiving.
*Jackson is a creature of habit. Routine is comforting to him; change triggers anxiety.
*We celebrate the little things: haircuts, bike rides, sunflower seeds, "joint attention".
*Never underestimate his ability to problem solve. This kid has spent 13 years figuring out how to communicate his needs. Ask yourself how you would communicate in China? Further imagine you didn't even know how to use non-verbal clues or gestures to communicate.
*Breakthroughs can come when we least expect them and he tends to progress in spurts. If he's struggling academically he may be making strides socially (and vice versa).
*Please, please know that we have tried many, many "cures". Diet, check. Sonrise, check. Speech therapy, check. VB, check. TEACCH, check. Vitamin therapy, check. The list continues. Chasing the "cure" is emotionally exhausting. We're doing everything in our power to improve his quality of life; we just no longer exhaust ourselves with every new therapy.
*We love him fiercely, in a raw and sometimes painful way. He loves us purely, the only way he knows how.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Inclusion & Ramblings...
I have been doing research on autism and inclusion--the pro's and con's if you will. There is so much information out there, and so many opinions. I honestly think one could make a strong case either way citing "experts". At the end of the day, I'm left trying to sort through it all and decide what is best for my son. I have to speak for him, unfortunately he doesn't have the words. Well, that's not true, actually he does say he wants to "stay with my friends"; he has no interest in a "new school".
Alas, next comes the unnerving thought, what else would he say if he could? Is he aware of his social plight? Does he wish for something different? Would he prefer to be educated with "similar" peers? How different would that look for him? How hard would it be? Would it be too easy? Would he miss his friends?
I am forced to face my greatest fear: REGRESSION. In the end, that is the great unknown; the black hole of my existence. What if he just stops moving forward? What if he ALWAYS loves Sesame Street stuffed animals? I think I can live with that...That is not the black hole--the dark place where regression lives is a place where he loses his place in my world and reverts into his own. Regression is a disconnect, a loss one does not easily recover from. Regression is the rug pulled out from underneath us, and the worst part is not knowing what may cause it. I think I have a clue about some things that might cause a regression: a huge change in routine, setting or schedule could send a typcial person over the edge. Jackson isn't at all typical. Take him away from everything and everyone he knows and it's like a "perfect regression storm".
REALITY is now. Reality is, "Mom, come here" and "Cal jump with me" or "Hey dad". Reality is the notes he writes us in church asking to go to "Toysrs" or to tell dad to draw "big brd o hrd" [big bird goes on a hayride]. This reality isn't one I could have hoped for even 3 years ago. I try to remind myself of that as I ponder the next 3 years. How much will he change and grow? What does HE want for his future? How capable is any 13 year old of explicit future planning? Most of them I know are vague at best regarding future plans: I want to go to college, I want to make a lot of money, I want to drive a nice car. Jackson wants to go to "mickey mouse's house". [I am smiling as I type that one].
At the end of the day, I put my head on my pillow and pray. Pray that God will guide me to His awesome plan for my son's life. Pray that I will see His hand in it all; pray for insight and peace. Pray for a sense of direction and to listen to His will, and the strength to accept it.
Alas, next comes the unnerving thought, what else would he say if he could? Is he aware of his social plight? Does he wish for something different? Would he prefer to be educated with "similar" peers? How different would that look for him? How hard would it be? Would it be too easy? Would he miss his friends?
I am forced to face my greatest fear: REGRESSION. In the end, that is the great unknown; the black hole of my existence. What if he just stops moving forward? What if he ALWAYS loves Sesame Street stuffed animals? I think I can live with that...That is not the black hole--the dark place where regression lives is a place where he loses his place in my world and reverts into his own. Regression is a disconnect, a loss one does not easily recover from. Regression is the rug pulled out from underneath us, and the worst part is not knowing what may cause it. I think I have a clue about some things that might cause a regression: a huge change in routine, setting or schedule could send a typcial person over the edge. Jackson isn't at all typical. Take him away from everything and everyone he knows and it's like a "perfect regression storm".
REALITY is now. Reality is, "Mom, come here" and "Cal jump with me" or "Hey dad". Reality is the notes he writes us in church asking to go to "Toysrs" or to tell dad to draw "big brd o hrd" [big bird goes on a hayride]. This reality isn't one I could have hoped for even 3 years ago. I try to remind myself of that as I ponder the next 3 years. How much will he change and grow? What does HE want for his future? How capable is any 13 year old of explicit future planning? Most of them I know are vague at best regarding future plans: I want to go to college, I want to make a lot of money, I want to drive a nice car. Jackson wants to go to "mickey mouse's house". [I am smiling as I type that one].
At the end of the day, I put my head on my pillow and pray. Pray that God will guide me to His awesome plan for my son's life. Pray that I will see His hand in it all; pray for insight and peace. Pray for a sense of direction and to listen to His will, and the strength to accept it.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Reflecting
I am thinking about Jackson's upcoming annual case conference. (For those of you with typical children who are deprived this privilege, a case conference is when you meet with teachers and administrators to plan for your child's education for the upcoming school year). I always get a little anxious about these meetings; like I'm waiting for the ax to fall. It's not easy hearing how academically challenged your child is; it's especially difficult to read it in black and white.
So, this year, I am preempting those feelings with my own list of all the gains my son has made this year. I will need these accomplishments to temper the weight of the world as I contemplate how far he has to go. With that, in no particular order, are the accomplishments he has managed since the fall:
*He is making attempts to read words. There is evidence that he is checking through words and using phonics to sound out unknown words.
*He has an increased interested in art. He will draw illustrations and talk about what he's drawn. His drawings are becoming more sophisticated.
*Jackson is using print in a meaningful way. He has intentionally written me notes to make his point even greater. He will record things on the calendar and has even at times, added words to his illustrations.
*Finally, my son is able to match one to one when counting. This skills is helping him to have an understanding of other basic math concepts: addition, more, less.
*Socially, he continues to laugh in the face of the autism gods. In the fall, at a sectional football game, he wandered off from our family, and when I caught up to him and asked him where he was going, he answered, "to my friends". My heart stopped then, as I watched him and his friends "hang out" at the game for the rest of that quarter. At the next sectional game, he asked again to go find his friends.
*This year, he went on a big birthday party celebration and actually rode all night long in the limo without mom. He was calm, and enjoyed being with his friends.
*That initial excursion led to another independent event: going to the circus with a group of friends.
*He routinely greets his friends and their parents at church (with out prompting). He is ever aware of where his friends are.
*He clearly demonstrated his awareness of the wants of others when changing the music in the car to something his friends would enjoy.
*He asks about going to do things with his friends, and will talk about times he's shared with his friends, "You went to Lazer tag with Jhai and Trevor and Seth"
*He initiates activites with family members. He'll call, "Cal come here" or "Mom sit here."
*Jackson follows directives easily. This is exciting, there was a time when he didn't understand a simple command like: "Put the plate in the sink" Now he can follow more complex commands "Take the clothes out of the washer, put them in the dryer and press start." or "Go to the kitchen and get mom a coke"
*He's more vocal in general. I'm often greeted with a "Hey mom" and surprised when he asks about or announces something.
*Amazingly, he has adapted to having seven periods in the day, and adjusted to seven teachers. I record this, because it too, is an accomplishment in its own right.
These are the accomplishments that come to me right now. Absolutely to be celebrated, without question they aren't taken for granted. I am proud of all my son has become and anxious for his future to unfold more triumphs.
So, this year, I am preempting those feelings with my own list of all the gains my son has made this year. I will need these accomplishments to temper the weight of the world as I contemplate how far he has to go. With that, in no particular order, are the accomplishments he has managed since the fall:
*He is making attempts to read words. There is evidence that he is checking through words and using phonics to sound out unknown words.
*He has an increased interested in art. He will draw illustrations and talk about what he's drawn. His drawings are becoming more sophisticated.
*Jackson is using print in a meaningful way. He has intentionally written me notes to make his point even greater. He will record things on the calendar and has even at times, added words to his illustrations.
*Finally, my son is able to match one to one when counting. This skills is helping him to have an understanding of other basic math concepts: addition, more, less.
*Socially, he continues to laugh in the face of the autism gods. In the fall, at a sectional football game, he wandered off from our family, and when I caught up to him and asked him where he was going, he answered, "to my friends". My heart stopped then, as I watched him and his friends "hang out" at the game for the rest of that quarter. At the next sectional game, he asked again to go find his friends.
*This year, he went on a big birthday party celebration and actually rode all night long in the limo without mom. He was calm, and enjoyed being with his friends.
*That initial excursion led to another independent event: going to the circus with a group of friends.
*He routinely greets his friends and their parents at church (with out prompting). He is ever aware of where his friends are.
*He clearly demonstrated his awareness of the wants of others when changing the music in the car to something his friends would enjoy.
*He asks about going to do things with his friends, and will talk about times he's shared with his friends, "You went to Lazer tag with Jhai and Trevor and Seth"
*He initiates activites with family members. He'll call, "Cal come here" or "Mom sit here."
*Jackson follows directives easily. This is exciting, there was a time when he didn't understand a simple command like: "Put the plate in the sink" Now he can follow more complex commands "Take the clothes out of the washer, put them in the dryer and press start." or "Go to the kitchen and get mom a coke"
*He's more vocal in general. I'm often greeted with a "Hey mom" and surprised when he asks about or announces something.
*Amazingly, he has adapted to having seven periods in the day, and adjusted to seven teachers. I record this, because it too, is an accomplishment in its own right.
These are the accomplishments that come to me right now. Absolutely to be celebrated, without question they aren't taken for granted. I am proud of all my son has become and anxious for his future to unfold more triumphs.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Reading!
There are some things we've decided not to focus on with Jackson. For example, learning to tie his shoes. I mean, we figured, plenty of grown men wear shoes that do not need tying, right? I've even been known to say, "Even if Jackson can't read, he has to be able to communicate with others." I do think it's so important for him to know how to read, it's just been something beyond him. Until now.
Last night, Dan came in after bed time with a sparkle in his eye saying, he is reading, really reading. Evidently, Jackson would go back and check through words Dan would call his attention to, and was really looking at the words and reading the Calliou books at bedtime.
There are times, I again reflect on the puzzle the metaphorically represents his life. So many people have a part of the person he is today. Each one represents a piece of the puzzle coming together. The preschool teachers who helped him understand his role in school; Mr. Kempton, the principal with a vision for kids like Jax. Mrs. Markley, for lovingly, gently encouraging Jax. Mrs. Schubert for stretching him outside his comfort zone. The coaches, who helped him feel like part of a team. The kids who have grown up with and around him, supporting him, including him; these kids showing him the way. Our family members and friends who love and support him and us.
"Jackson is reading!" I really want to shout it from the tops of the mountains, I want the world to know. Just like so many other things with Jack, this skill came along quietly in its own time...it's just another ordinary miracle. God truly does amazing things!
Last night, Dan came in after bed time with a sparkle in his eye saying, he is reading, really reading. Evidently, Jackson would go back and check through words Dan would call his attention to, and was really looking at the words and reading the Calliou books at bedtime.
There are times, I again reflect on the puzzle the metaphorically represents his life. So many people have a part of the person he is today. Each one represents a piece of the puzzle coming together. The preschool teachers who helped him understand his role in school; Mr. Kempton, the principal with a vision for kids like Jax. Mrs. Markley, for lovingly, gently encouraging Jax. Mrs. Schubert for stretching him outside his comfort zone. The coaches, who helped him feel like part of a team. The kids who have grown up with and around him, supporting him, including him; these kids showing him the way. Our family members and friends who love and support him and us.
"Jackson is reading!" I really want to shout it from the tops of the mountains, I want the world to know. Just like so many other things with Jack, this skill came along quietly in its own time...it's just another ordinary miracle. God truly does amazing things!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
"Irritating"
We have blessed by the people who have helped care for Jackson while Dan & I are at work. Starting with his first sitter, "Nana Lesley" who cared for him as an infant (and we were ever SO grateful she did) to our current caregiver Miss Robin and those in between, Jackson and Callahan have both been cared for by devoted, loving people and I will forever be grateful for each of them.
Recently, during a snow day while at Miss Robin's house, Jackson, in typical Jackson form, was obsessed with going to Wal-Mart for a coveted Mario toy. I had promised him, "First Miss Robin's, then we'll go to Wal-Mart". When he's "stuck" on something like this, he needs to be constantly reassured that, indeed, the plan is to go to Wal-Mart for the promised toy. God bless Miss Robin who reassured him more than once of the plan. As the day wore on, his anxiety increased and he went to her and said, "You go to Wal-Mart" to which she responded, "Your mom will take you to Wal-Mart". Of course, he went through this ritual with her multiple times through-out the day, waiting for me to get there and take him to the store.
At some point, Robin's own mom stopped over and while she was talking to Robin in the kitchen, Jackson came in and started his litany. "Your mom will take you to Wal-Mart". God bless her, Robin's mom thought he was talking to her, and she said, "I'm not taking you to Wal-Mart Jackson!" To which Jackson turned, walked out of the kitchen and announced:
"You guys are so irritating"
How Robin managed to suppress her laugh and use it as a teachable moment, I will never know. She called him into the kitchen and told him she loved him and wasn't trying to irritate him.
My reaction: I cannot believe my son used such incredible vocabulary to identify his emotions and then, it was, "Where did he hear the use of that word?" Dan & I both felt a bit guilty wondering if that expression had come from either of us...the mystery was solved the next morning when "Martha Speaks" came on and the dog announced "you are so irritating". I'm really proud of Jackson's ability to internalize and transfer the use of that word. And, I'm forever grateful to my dear friend who managed to use the moment as a teachable one!
Recently, during a snow day while at Miss Robin's house, Jackson, in typical Jackson form, was obsessed with going to Wal-Mart for a coveted Mario toy. I had promised him, "First Miss Robin's, then we'll go to Wal-Mart". When he's "stuck" on something like this, he needs to be constantly reassured that, indeed, the plan is to go to Wal-Mart for the promised toy. God bless Miss Robin who reassured him more than once of the plan. As the day wore on, his anxiety increased and he went to her and said, "You go to Wal-Mart" to which she responded, "Your mom will take you to Wal-Mart". Of course, he went through this ritual with her multiple times through-out the day, waiting for me to get there and take him to the store.
At some point, Robin's own mom stopped over and while she was talking to Robin in the kitchen, Jackson came in and started his litany. "Your mom will take you to Wal-Mart". God bless her, Robin's mom thought he was talking to her, and she said, "I'm not taking you to Wal-Mart Jackson!" To which Jackson turned, walked out of the kitchen and announced:
"You guys are so irritating"
How Robin managed to suppress her laugh and use it as a teachable moment, I will never know. She called him into the kitchen and told him she loved him and wasn't trying to irritate him.
My reaction: I cannot believe my son used such incredible vocabulary to identify his emotions and then, it was, "Where did he hear the use of that word?" Dan & I both felt a bit guilty wondering if that expression had come from either of us...the mystery was solved the next morning when "Martha Speaks" came on and the dog announced "you are so irritating". I'm really proud of Jackson's ability to internalize and transfer the use of that word. And, I'm forever grateful to my dear friend who managed to use the moment as a teachable one!
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