Why don’t people ever let up? Nicky had to call me from school what was it, Monday? Or Friday? Those freaky little S.O.B.s were demanding to know what meds he was on. They told him he didn’t have ADHD because he wasn’t hyper. If he weren’t on his meds, the poor kid would never sleep. I told Nicky to tell them that it was none of their business.
One evening, I was watching one of those caught on camera programs. This enraged father boarded a bus and was bellowing at some of those scumbag kids because they were hurting his daughter who had mild Cerebral Palsy, even throwing condoms at the poor girl. But the father was considered the jerk! I’m sorry, I can’t blame the guy. It takes everything I have in me not to go after the beasts that hurt Nicky. There are times I want to teach him how to throw a punch. But he’d be the one who would get the blame because that’s the way it always works.
But regardless of what those creeps say, someday, it’s my son who will be on top. Nicky will rip ‘em a new one by being a good person, by living his dreams.
Those nozzles can say what they will, but I’m a heck of a lot stronger than any of them put together, and you had better believe I will not let my son down because one must never cross a mother who loves her child dearly. We are an unbeatable force when need be. And once Nicky heals from his surgery, he wants to join Special Olympics Karate and Soccer, if I can afford it, I’m going to let him, enforcing the fact that martial arts is for defense only. Even just having the knowledge is power. And if he kicks B.T.’s butt. I’ll buy him a Nintendo DS game because that bugger has it coming. I know, bad Mom. Just fed up.
Showing posts with label Blog by Tracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blog by Tracy. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Behind Butterfly Eyes
That faraway, soft expression… Many of those who have autism have what my mom fondly calls “Butterfly eyes”. And by no means, is it an insult. They all have this dreamy expression their eyelashes fluttery. Sheesh, I’m supposed to be the writer but now I cannot grasp the words, but when it comes to my son, I want to do him justice. He is my drive, my muse, and the love of my life. He’s my special little (well not so little, he’s almost as tall as me) friend.
I’ve heard the comments, not so much now, as he has progressed, that when he’s had the faraway look, that the lights are out and no one is home. Nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t care how “low-functioning” a child with autism is. A lot more goes on in their minds than a person could possibly imagine. Just because they don’t respond does not mean they do not understand you. Many parents end up mortified to find out that they’ve said things in front of their children when they presumed their child was off in their own world.
There are times Nicky will say, “Mom, do you remember when I was five and you said….” And I will look at him in amazement because what he recalls is so vivid, he can sometimes remember to the slightest detail as to what lip gloss I was wearing. Just because they don’t appear to be paying attention, doesn’t mean that they aren’t.
I don’t view autism as a disorder. Not entirely. One specialist summed it up rather nicely. They file things in their minds a bit differently than we do. It doesn’t make it wrong, just different, just more of a challenge. I’m honored to say that he has he entrusted me with some of his secrets. He views the world differently. He’s not hung up on so many gray areas like the average human being is. He is able to find beauty in places where other eyes would even neglect to look.
My little butterfly doesn’t have a disorder, he just files things differently than what is considered the norm. And where is the wrong in that? He can find a simple peace an solace when he rocks to music. I myself, can’t handle not listening to music. Perhaps the people who don’t get lost in the music, the people who don’t get lost in their daydreams, are the ones with the problem? I was always a bit of a daydreamer myself. It’s why I love to write so much.
How do we know that some of our greatest poets and artists haven’t been autistic? We don’t know.
Granted, those with autism have some interesting traits, varying from rocking, hand flipping, to reptetitiously opening and closing doors. But it certainly isn’t evil.
Oh, it was tough when I had to tie down furniture down when my little butterfly would try to slip out in the wee hours of the icy cold mornings, but that’s before I had a grasp on what was going on.
Once I knew what was going on with the little guy, I had a better idea of what to do with him.
I’m not going to tell you that Autism is an easy situation to deal with, but once you have fully accepted it, you embark on a journey that not many people are privvy to.
My case and point? Nicky loves music as much as I do. When music is played, hi expression grows dreamy and he rocks to it. One day, when Nicky was younger, my mother watched him for a bit, gently took his hands, and rocked with him. His faraway look turned to one of pure joy. She joined a part of his world. Neither spoke, they just swayed to the music together, both smiling and communicating in a way that mere words cannot explain.
I’ve rocked with Nicky, the joy on his face is difficult to describe for rather than trying to pull him from his world, I am joining his and it’s a beautiful place.
The respite company I used to go through did nothing but criticize him for having imaginary friends. They, along with the social worker, told me that I needed to discourage that behavior. My intuition always told me that ripping that away from him would do more harm than good. So he and I came up with a compromise. He would leave his imaginary wife, friends, and kids with me whenever he had to go to places that frowned upon it. I made promises that I would take good care of them while he was gone and of course, I would have to make up something interesting he knew imaginary family wasn’t bored. I take care of all his imaginary friends, wives, children, and pets when he isn’t allowed to take them with.
I think it’s stupid, there are man “normal” kids who have imaginary friends and social services don’t get their undies in a bunch over that. But, I am in a touchy situation because I am a single, disabled parent, so there are certain hoops I have to jump through.
He doesn’t have any real close school pals, he is close to the family and his imaginary family and yeah, I encourage it. I encourage him to use his imagination. It’s a lost art on children nowadays.
One thing that angered me was that his former psychologist stated his IQ in front of him. I could have cheerfully bounced her on her head. My brothers and I have very high IQs. I won’t say what mine is because it does me no good. For a very long time, Nicky dwelled on the fact that he had a lower IQ, and it upset me a great deal. He thought it meant he was stupid. I pointed out that other family members had high IQ’s… and pointed out that they weren’t all that successful in life. I told him it wasn’t going to be his IQ that would determine whether he would be a pathologist or not, I told him it was what he learned and how he applied it to life.
I told him his IQ didn’t decide on whether he was a special person or now. I told him it was the size of his heart that decided that how special he was. I told him it depended on how he treated people. I told him THAT was what mattered.
He wants to be a pathologist. I told him he needs to do his best. Personally, I see his talents lying more in drama, writing, artwork, or working with others who have special needs. But I will not discourage what he wants to do. If my little butterfly wants to deal with blood and guts, I’ll be as proud as heck of him. He wants to join drama and I do hope that he’s ab;e to join because he is a ham.
But back to the first subject at hands, what you may see in those vacant butterfly eyes, may be a mountain load of information. They may not be able to express it! Never underestimate the power of our butterflies.
I’ve heard the comments, not so much now, as he has progressed, that when he’s had the faraway look, that the lights are out and no one is home. Nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t care how “low-functioning” a child with autism is. A lot more goes on in their minds than a person could possibly imagine. Just because they don’t respond does not mean they do not understand you. Many parents end up mortified to find out that they’ve said things in front of their children when they presumed their child was off in their own world.
There are times Nicky will say, “Mom, do you remember when I was five and you said….” And I will look at him in amazement because what he recalls is so vivid, he can sometimes remember to the slightest detail as to what lip gloss I was wearing. Just because they don’t appear to be paying attention, doesn’t mean that they aren’t.
I don’t view autism as a disorder. Not entirely. One specialist summed it up rather nicely. They file things in their minds a bit differently than we do. It doesn’t make it wrong, just different, just more of a challenge. I’m honored to say that he has he entrusted me with some of his secrets. He views the world differently. He’s not hung up on so many gray areas like the average human being is. He is able to find beauty in places where other eyes would even neglect to look.
My little butterfly doesn’t have a disorder, he just files things differently than what is considered the norm. And where is the wrong in that? He can find a simple peace an solace when he rocks to music. I myself, can’t handle not listening to music. Perhaps the people who don’t get lost in the music, the people who don’t get lost in their daydreams, are the ones with the problem? I was always a bit of a daydreamer myself. It’s why I love to write so much.
How do we know that some of our greatest poets and artists haven’t been autistic? We don’t know.
Granted, those with autism have some interesting traits, varying from rocking, hand flipping, to reptetitiously opening and closing doors. But it certainly isn’t evil.
Oh, it was tough when I had to tie down furniture down when my little butterfly would try to slip out in the wee hours of the icy cold mornings, but that’s before I had a grasp on what was going on.
Once I knew what was going on with the little guy, I had a better idea of what to do with him.
I’m not going to tell you that Autism is an easy situation to deal with, but once you have fully accepted it, you embark on a journey that not many people are privvy to.
My case and point? Nicky loves music as much as I do. When music is played, hi expression grows dreamy and he rocks to it. One day, when Nicky was younger, my mother watched him for a bit, gently took his hands, and rocked with him. His faraway look turned to one of pure joy. She joined a part of his world. Neither spoke, they just swayed to the music together, both smiling and communicating in a way that mere words cannot explain.
I’ve rocked with Nicky, the joy on his face is difficult to describe for rather than trying to pull him from his world, I am joining his and it’s a beautiful place.
The respite company I used to go through did nothing but criticize him for having imaginary friends. They, along with the social worker, told me that I needed to discourage that behavior. My intuition always told me that ripping that away from him would do more harm than good. So he and I came up with a compromise. He would leave his imaginary wife, friends, and kids with me whenever he had to go to places that frowned upon it. I made promises that I would take good care of them while he was gone and of course, I would have to make up something interesting he knew imaginary family wasn’t bored. I take care of all his imaginary friends, wives, children, and pets when he isn’t allowed to take them with.
I think it’s stupid, there are man “normal” kids who have imaginary friends and social services don’t get their undies in a bunch over that. But, I am in a touchy situation because I am a single, disabled parent, so there are certain hoops I have to jump through.
He doesn’t have any real close school pals, he is close to the family and his imaginary family and yeah, I encourage it. I encourage him to use his imagination. It’s a lost art on children nowadays.
One thing that angered me was that his former psychologist stated his IQ in front of him. I could have cheerfully bounced her on her head. My brothers and I have very high IQs. I won’t say what mine is because it does me no good. For a very long time, Nicky dwelled on the fact that he had a lower IQ, and it upset me a great deal. He thought it meant he was stupid. I pointed out that other family members had high IQ’s… and pointed out that they weren’t all that successful in life. I told him it wasn’t going to be his IQ that would determine whether he would be a pathologist or not, I told him it was what he learned and how he applied it to life.
I told him his IQ didn’t decide on whether he was a special person or now. I told him it was the size of his heart that decided that how special he was. I told him it depended on how he treated people. I told him THAT was what mattered.
He wants to be a pathologist. I told him he needs to do his best. Personally, I see his talents lying more in drama, writing, artwork, or working with others who have special needs. But I will not discourage what he wants to do. If my little butterfly wants to deal with blood and guts, I’ll be as proud as heck of him. He wants to join drama and I do hope that he’s ab;e to join because he is a ham.
But back to the first subject at hands, what you may see in those vacant butterfly eyes, may be a mountain load of information. They may not be able to express it! Never underestimate the power of our butterflies.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Nicky Takes A Stand
*
Nicky took a stand. He actually took things on himself, thought things out and sought out help.
First, he had come to me because he wanted to break up with his girlfriend. She was Special Needs, too, but older, and she made him uncomfortable and he indicated that he felt he was too young for what she wanted. (Proud mother moment) I told him that if he didn’t feel right about it, it was good to break things off. He said he didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I advised him to do it gently and just say he wasn’t ready, I told him he could even use me as an excuse if he needed to.
He broke up with her and the first day, she was fine. But the next day, she told him that he had a dark soul. Later, I found out that she started stalking him between classes, etc. trying to pass him notes and all that.
Rather than suffer than silence or hash it out with me, he went down to the office… And my son got results! He saw he wasn’t labeled as a tattle-tale. I’m so proud of him because this is a new thing. Nicky rocks!
Nicky took a stand. He actually took things on himself, thought things out and sought out help.
First, he had come to me because he wanted to break up with his girlfriend. She was Special Needs, too, but older, and she made him uncomfortable and he indicated that he felt he was too young for what she wanted. (Proud mother moment) I told him that if he didn’t feel right about it, it was good to break things off. He said he didn’t want to hurt her feelings so I advised him to do it gently and just say he wasn’t ready, I told him he could even use me as an excuse if he needed to.
He broke up with her and the first day, she was fine. But the next day, she told him that he had a dark soul. Later, I found out that she started stalking him between classes, etc. trying to pass him notes and all that.
Rather than suffer than silence or hash it out with me, he went down to the office… And my son got results! He saw he wasn’t labeled as a tattle-tale. I’m so proud of him because this is a new thing. Nicky rocks!
Monday, February 21, 2011
There Are Lines
If my feelings get hurt, I will get over it and move on. I’ve been through too much, I’m a survivor. For Nicky, it’s much more difficult, especially when he sees his mother being insulted. He has the memory of an elephant, and a grudge that a mobster would admire. But it is not amusing, not when it hurts him, too. My poor little guy has had to take too many knocks whether he puts himself out there or not.
To protect the one he admires, I will not use a name. It is not his fault, Nicky’s, nor even mine, though others might want to contradict that. My poor little butterfly was deceived into believing that a “character” was a voice actor. I tweeted to the person, they blocked me, and I got really suspicious, I made the comment that even a celeb should not come between mother and child, someone did some digging and found out that the guy was just someone who was doing RPG and found the real actor.
Nicky was happy at first, but then saw how certain other people butted into the conversation saying not nice things, this upset him horribly. He sees for the nth time, that the other gets sided with. I try to explain the best that I can. And tomorrow, hopefully, I will have a low pain day and we will play and watch TV. He has no school. I will fill his day with as much frolic and fun as I can muster and hopefully that blasted doc will have filled my scrip so I can get downright obnoxious for my son because that’s what he loves and behind closed door, for his eyes only, I don’t have to be high strung and sensible, I can be goofy and funny.
To protect the one he admires, I will not use a name. It is not his fault, Nicky’s, nor even mine, though others might want to contradict that. My poor little butterfly was deceived into believing that a “character” was a voice actor. I tweeted to the person, they blocked me, and I got really suspicious, I made the comment that even a celeb should not come between mother and child, someone did some digging and found out that the guy was just someone who was doing RPG and found the real actor.
Nicky was happy at first, but then saw how certain other people butted into the conversation saying not nice things, this upset him horribly. He sees for the nth time, that the other gets sided with. I try to explain the best that I can. And tomorrow, hopefully, I will have a low pain day and we will play and watch TV. He has no school. I will fill his day with as much frolic and fun as I can muster and hopefully that blasted doc will have filled my scrip so I can get downright obnoxious for my son because that’s what he loves and behind closed door, for his eyes only, I don’t have to be high strung and sensible, I can be goofy and funny.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Special Saturday/A Promise is a Debt
Today is Special Saturday Nicky blogged yesterday. We played, despite the severe pain I was in. I won’t go too in depth about my pain, because my blogs are more for Nicky now, I found a place I can whine about myself. But you know, he was devastated that a pain flare up hit yesterday when we were supposed to play.
I was just as upset, more than he knew. I hid my tears well. My life is broken promises. But, in my experiences, a broken promise to a child with autism is as bad as defying a mafia don, they don’t forget. Just ask my younger brother. Their grudges are something to behold! But that isn’t why I was so driven to keep my promise. I always try to keep my promises, especially to him. He kept crying off and on… So he got a very wounded Saiyan warrior. It’s still bad today. But he will remember. He will remember that I didn’t lie to him. He will know that Mama struggled to play with him and succeeded. I did this morning. And he will be blogging again! Stay tuned and enjoy!
I was just as upset, more than he knew. I hid my tears well. My life is broken promises. But, in my experiences, a broken promise to a child with autism is as bad as defying a mafia don, they don’t forget. Just ask my younger brother. Their grudges are something to behold! But that isn’t why I was so driven to keep my promise. I always try to keep my promises, especially to him. He kept crying off and on… So he got a very wounded Saiyan warrior. It’s still bad today. But he will remember. He will remember that I didn’t lie to him. He will know that Mama struggled to play with him and succeeded. I did this morning. And he will be blogging again! Stay tuned and enjoy!
Friday, February 18, 2011
Vaccinations, Enlightment, and What Your Child Really Suffers From
Ha! I got you here. Are you expecting a fueled rant on vaccinations? No. You won’t get one. Not really because guess what, I DO NOT KNOW!!! And do you know what? I DO NOT CARE! You can spend so much time blaming, and looking for fault, that time passes by, and you miss out. And you don’t want to miss out on moments you can share with the ones you love.
I’ve cashed in the sensible adult chips. It’s all hogwash. I’m not someone who has autism, but I am eccentric, I’m partly a ditz, I’m too blunt, I’m a nerd. I’m sick of all the crud, it wastes time.
Nicky is happier for it, so am I. We are learning to play. There is nothing better. I rarely watch anything “adult” anymore. Kid stuff is much more fun and it makes more sense.
Thank you green aliens, yellow squares, Fire Nation, gallant heroes, etc. etc. may my screen dance of images of saved worlds, problems solved, with a vocal range I can do after, for my son and I will perform and bask in the glow of a simple life of enjoying every moment.
Nicky has the autism diagnosis. He suffers from people who try to force him to fit in, intolerance, and being misunderstood. I’ll play the drums, while Nicky dances, or rocks to a different beat.
And those who read this, enjoy the ones you love. You can have all the technology, all the best care, etc. etc., but it’s your love, it’s you, who are their best advocate and greatest asset. YOU are their rock. Schools educate, I know we have to set an example, teach manners, we do have to parent, but we can also be kids with them and join in their play, you will learn so much more. The world will become so much brighter. You will have so much more energy, a new lease on life… You will see the rainbows over the gray areas. Tell them you love them as often as you can, I hear it so much now! It’s better than any drug.
And look at the world through butterfly eyes, because their perception may not be the disorder you thought it was, but a secret blessing you never expected. And don’t worry. My blessing will be home soon to contribute!
I’ve cashed in the sensible adult chips. It’s all hogwash. I’m not someone who has autism, but I am eccentric, I’m partly a ditz, I’m too blunt, I’m a nerd. I’m sick of all the crud, it wastes time.
Nicky is happier for it, so am I. We are learning to play. There is nothing better. I rarely watch anything “adult” anymore. Kid stuff is much more fun and it makes more sense.
Thank you green aliens, yellow squares, Fire Nation, gallant heroes, etc. etc. may my screen dance of images of saved worlds, problems solved, with a vocal range I can do after, for my son and I will perform and bask in the glow of a simple life of enjoying every moment.
Nicky has the autism diagnosis. He suffers from people who try to force him to fit in, intolerance, and being misunderstood. I’ll play the drums, while Nicky dances, or rocks to a different beat.
And those who read this, enjoy the ones you love. You can have all the technology, all the best care, etc. etc., but it’s your love, it’s you, who are their best advocate and greatest asset. YOU are their rock. Schools educate, I know we have to set an example, teach manners, we do have to parent, but we can also be kids with them and join in their play, you will learn so much more. The world will become so much brighter. You will have so much more energy, a new lease on life… You will see the rainbows over the gray areas. Tell them you love them as often as you can, I hear it so much now! It’s better than any drug.
And look at the world through butterfly eyes, because their perception may not be the disorder you thought it was, but a secret blessing you never expected. And don’t worry. My blessing will be home soon to contribute!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
On Behalf of Nicky
Nicky, sweetie. I know at your age, you like the gross, disgusting, and everything in the world to make you squeamish. Sweetie, I know this is a rough patch in your life, I took it in the chin, I’m taking it with you, now, but this rant, this creative call to bullies is a lash out to those bullies who hurt you, baby, and to make you laugh, because I know you love it when I try to gross you out. I know you love when girls are gross, my guess is, you get that from your younger uncle. Honey, I am going to embarrass myself just to make you smile. I love you. Live, laugh, play hard, and let’s sock it to ‘em. Maybe you will copy me and rant, too. Not bottle it up until it explodes. This is for you.
Dear Bullies,
Dear, that’s the second to last nice word you will get from me. You suck big, fat, gooey, vomit-filled boogers. May your heads be filled with giant maggots that eat away every vein you have!! You deserve to be tortured by yellow jackets. May you be tied down to a fire-ant hill, doused in honey, with ants eating away at your flesh, while wasps, yellow jackets, killer-bees, and bumble bees swarm and sting you painfully, while creeping up your nostrils, into your ears and wherever they else they feel like going! Do you feel so tough now, fart-fudging, poop-eating, snot-sucking, wicked, little creeps? You bonemeal, puke-vaporous, vapid, snakey, turds!! You are awful! Foul! Putrid! Garbage! You are the sewer! You are the toilet of the world. May you be run upon all wet and wild!!! And feel as crappy (Get it?) as you made Nicky feel! May cattle use you as their manure garden and take a huge potty on you! I hope you can hear all that loud farting through the buzzing and chewing of insects though!!! You are nothing but slime spewing poopie-head Neanderthals! (Nicky came up with that) May oozing pustules form on your butts!!! May your organs do oragami! May pigs drop festering, scabs of pain on your eyeballs!!! May a huge elephant regurgitate on your head. May it have a quick head cold and feel better as it sneezes a huge gob of green snot on your hair!!!!
Now that I’ve relieved, Nicky’s pain. You still bullied when talked to… He quaked when questioned because he felt threatened, and now, I cannot fully intervene. Bullies, truly, I wish, you’d look in the mirror and take a nice long look. Examine yourself carefully. Why do you bully? You’re the one who will lose in the end. I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor, I won’t be taken down. Bigger, stronger, have tried. Thank your lucky stars that Nicky’s been taught my docile side, and not the side that’s had to fight, though he’s been given glimpses… be thankful he is gentle and sweet, and hope he isn’t all like me.
I was always compared to my aunt. God bless the woman I am, yes, but I am also my mother’s daughter. No one ever compared me to Mom. Oh people…. I’ve been compared to my father. Ha! I’m a combination of my mom and my aunt and something else. Bullies, you better hope Nicky is more like his uncles and less like his mother, you better be thankful I have raised him the way I have.
He called me kitten. I’m a dang cougar with claws when I need to be. I was knocked too many times, I did fight back. Nicky’s growing fast you better hope to high heaven he doesn’t…. or that I don’t.
Love, (Cuz we don’t hate)
Tracy
Dear Bullies,
Dear, that’s the second to last nice word you will get from me. You suck big, fat, gooey, vomit-filled boogers. May your heads be filled with giant maggots that eat away every vein you have!! You deserve to be tortured by yellow jackets. May you be tied down to a fire-ant hill, doused in honey, with ants eating away at your flesh, while wasps, yellow jackets, killer-bees, and bumble bees swarm and sting you painfully, while creeping up your nostrils, into your ears and wherever they else they feel like going! Do you feel so tough now, fart-fudging, poop-eating, snot-sucking, wicked, little creeps? You bonemeal, puke-vaporous, vapid, snakey, turds!! You are awful! Foul! Putrid! Garbage! You are the sewer! You are the toilet of the world. May you be run upon all wet and wild!!! And feel as crappy (Get it?) as you made Nicky feel! May cattle use you as their manure garden and take a huge potty on you! I hope you can hear all that loud farting through the buzzing and chewing of insects though!!! You are nothing but slime spewing poopie-head Neanderthals! (Nicky came up with that) May oozing pustules form on your butts!!! May your organs do oragami! May pigs drop festering, scabs of pain on your eyeballs!!! May a huge elephant regurgitate on your head. May it have a quick head cold and feel better as it sneezes a huge gob of green snot on your hair!!!!
Now that I’ve relieved, Nicky’s pain. You still bullied when talked to… He quaked when questioned because he felt threatened, and now, I cannot fully intervene. Bullies, truly, I wish, you’d look in the mirror and take a nice long look. Examine yourself carefully. Why do you bully? You’re the one who will lose in the end. I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor, I won’t be taken down. Bigger, stronger, have tried. Thank your lucky stars that Nicky’s been taught my docile side, and not the side that’s had to fight, though he’s been given glimpses… be thankful he is gentle and sweet, and hope he isn’t all like me.
I was always compared to my aunt. God bless the woman I am, yes, but I am also my mother’s daughter. No one ever compared me to Mom. Oh people…. I’ve been compared to my father. Ha! I’m a combination of my mom and my aunt and something else. Bullies, you better hope Nicky is more like his uncles and less like his mother, you better be thankful I have raised him the way I have.
He called me kitten. I’m a dang cougar with claws when I need to be. I was knocked too many times, I did fight back. Nicky’s growing fast you better hope to high heaven he doesn’t…. or that I don’t.
Love, (Cuz we don’t hate)
Tracy
Typos and All...My Nicky
This weekend, Nicky will blog, he wants at the keyboard, he wants to do all the typing without Mommy hanging over to correct errors… to heck with spelling… Ladies and Gentlemen, you will get pure Nicky. I will let him have at it because he’s happy.
The school is looking into what happened.
Nicky’s world is balanced. Nicky is happy. He is so Happy.
He makes me feel like a superhero.
If you’re a parent, I think you are. I almost said mom, but there are a few darn good fathers out there, too.
Friday. We play, we’ll see if he blogs then or Saturday before respite. Special Saturday for twitter. http://forspecialneeds.co.uk/2011/02/12/special-saturday-12-02-11 check it out, please. I’m letting Nicky on this weekend, too.
I told him that he is loved online. I told him to remember that if anyone tries to tell him different. He’s loved at home. Many of his respite workers adore him, too. I gave him the armor of love. I’m building up his self esteem, I’m trying to give him the tools to defend himself. I told him that he can call home if he needs to. I know I can’t physically wrap my arms around him 24/7. I wish I could. We all want to put that cocoon there, but he has a safety net. I will keep working on it. I don’t give him false words and false dreams, I’m very honest with him, but he can still reach for the stars. Autism doesn’t have to stop him! I told him there is an adult woman who has autism with two kids with autism. It was made too big, I am squashing it down.
He’s funny. He’s smart. He’s lovable. He’s remarkable. He’s Nicky. He’s not rotten. He’s my beautiful butterfly and I love him. I told him I love his autism too and his eyes filled with tears because I told him I wouldn’t cure him if it changed who he was because I love him.
Does it get any better? I don’t think so. I love my child. I thank God I have Nicky. I just hope he realizes what an asset he is to the world. He is. If anyone disagrees with me…. I might remember my teenage years…. I had a foul mouth. I can out cuss the best of them, I just won’t take the Lord’s name in vain. But when mad enough…
But I don’t want to. Not here. Not on forums, nor Twitter, for there are good children that might be looking over the shoulder and I don’t want them reading that language.
The school is looking into what happened.
Nicky’s world is balanced. Nicky is happy. He is so Happy.
He makes me feel like a superhero.
If you’re a parent, I think you are. I almost said mom, but there are a few darn good fathers out there, too.
Friday. We play, we’ll see if he blogs then or Saturday before respite. Special Saturday for twitter. http://forspecialneeds.co.uk/2011/02/12/special-saturday-12-02-11 check it out, please. I’m letting Nicky on this weekend, too.
I told him that he is loved online. I told him to remember that if anyone tries to tell him different. He’s loved at home. Many of his respite workers adore him, too. I gave him the armor of love. I’m building up his self esteem, I’m trying to give him the tools to defend himself. I told him that he can call home if he needs to. I know I can’t physically wrap my arms around him 24/7. I wish I could. We all want to put that cocoon there, but he has a safety net. I will keep working on it. I don’t give him false words and false dreams, I’m very honest with him, but he can still reach for the stars. Autism doesn’t have to stop him! I told him there is an adult woman who has autism with two kids with autism. It was made too big, I am squashing it down.
He’s funny. He’s smart. He’s lovable. He’s remarkable. He’s Nicky. He’s not rotten. He’s my beautiful butterfly and I love him. I told him I love his autism too and his eyes filled with tears because I told him I wouldn’t cure him if it changed who he was because I love him.
Does it get any better? I don’t think so. I love my child. I thank God I have Nicky. I just hope he realizes what an asset he is to the world. He is. If anyone disagrees with me…. I might remember my teenage years…. I had a foul mouth. I can out cuss the best of them, I just won’t take the Lord’s name in vain. But when mad enough…
But I don’t want to. Not here. Not on forums, nor Twitter, for there are good children that might be looking over the shoulder and I don’t want them reading that language.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Never Say Can't
I am turning on the way back machine because there are so many misconceptions about autism. There are so many things that “experts” say, and hopes either get built or killed. Those “experts” don’t know Nicky. They don’t know what he’s overcome. That young man has beat a lot of odds and I am his biggest cheerleader.
They said Nicky would never talk…
And believe me, I thank God that the child never shuts up. I rejoice that he chatters on and on.
I’m mad right now, So mad I could spit. I started this blog on a happy note, but now I’m angry.
Nicky has been faking illness for a few days, I forced him to go to school today. I get phone calls through out the day, he claims he has explosive diarrhea. I tell the nurse to keep him there and check. Nothing.
He comes home… He screeches in my face for not believing him. I stay calm on the outside, I know he’s hurting, I know he’s lying to me, he’s not sick. He tries to look imposing and then… He cracks and breaks down. Bullies. Nasty, slimy, little bullies. Snide remarks were made. And some shoving was involved… Nicky does nothing because they were girls. I tell him I love him more than the world, I hold him as he sobs brokenly, telling me how much it hurts. It kills me. He calms down goes with his (she’s like a PCA) for a bit while I fuss and stew.
I’m calm now, I’ve been away from the computer, Nicky has come home, he’s in bed.
I took names, events, and where, I’m calling Nicky’s case manager tomorrow. I’ve had it. There were some boys involved, too. I’m the b-word that took names, by golly. Enough is enough! His relief was so immense and then, he admitted to shaving his brows off because he wanted to look like Piccolo from Dragon-Ball Z Kai. I told him he could just pretend. He got excited, then I told him I would even put green on his face… Joy! Then…. I told him I would PLAY with him, you know, act out the characters. The rapture on his face, my heart melted. It’s like I waved a magic wand and fixed his world. And we’re getting Mom involved, too.
So on Friday, when he comes home from school. I will likely have to rasp like the Grand Elder, and sneer like Vegeta. Also, he wants to pretend to be Zuko and have a scar made on his face. And will I be sweet Katara? Not likely, because I can sneer and sound crazy like Azula, and you can bet Nicky will have me be Azula. I’m good at doing “Voices” I did them for my younger brother when we were little. Do I look forward to playing like a little kid with my son? I’ll treasure every moment and hope I don’t sprain or break anything trying to act something out. Ha! Ha! Ha!
They said Nicky would never talk…
And believe me, I thank God that the child never shuts up. I rejoice that he chatters on and on.
I’m mad right now, So mad I could spit. I started this blog on a happy note, but now I’m angry.
Nicky has been faking illness for a few days, I forced him to go to school today. I get phone calls through out the day, he claims he has explosive diarrhea. I tell the nurse to keep him there and check. Nothing.
He comes home… He screeches in my face for not believing him. I stay calm on the outside, I know he’s hurting, I know he’s lying to me, he’s not sick. He tries to look imposing and then… He cracks and breaks down. Bullies. Nasty, slimy, little bullies. Snide remarks were made. And some shoving was involved… Nicky does nothing because they were girls. I tell him I love him more than the world, I hold him as he sobs brokenly, telling me how much it hurts. It kills me. He calms down goes with his (she’s like a PCA) for a bit while I fuss and stew.
I’m calm now, I’ve been away from the computer, Nicky has come home, he’s in bed.
I took names, events, and where, I’m calling Nicky’s case manager tomorrow. I’ve had it. There were some boys involved, too. I’m the b-word that took names, by golly. Enough is enough! His relief was so immense and then, he admitted to shaving his brows off because he wanted to look like Piccolo from Dragon-Ball Z Kai. I told him he could just pretend. He got excited, then I told him I would even put green on his face… Joy! Then…. I told him I would PLAY with him, you know, act out the characters. The rapture on his face, my heart melted. It’s like I waved a magic wand and fixed his world. And we’re getting Mom involved, too.
So on Friday, when he comes home from school. I will likely have to rasp like the Grand Elder, and sneer like Vegeta. Also, he wants to pretend to be Zuko and have a scar made on his face. And will I be sweet Katara? Not likely, because I can sneer and sound crazy like Azula, and you can bet Nicky will have me be Azula. I’m good at doing “Voices” I did them for my younger brother when we were little. Do I look forward to playing like a little kid with my son? I’ll treasure every moment and hope I don’t sprain or break anything trying to act something out. Ha! Ha! Ha!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
You Can't Do That On Television
V and V: The Final Battle. The old tv movies and series was fantastic. I was watching it on Syfy. It brought back a lot of memories. I remember when it first came out. Dang, I’m no spring chicken anymore. What the heck? Where does all that time go? When it was first on, I was a kid. I never thought about what life would be like in 2011. I had always expected that Christ would return by 2000. Well, hey, I was a kid then. It’s funny, I’ve been seeing a lot of things that I watched when I was younger. Many of them were shows on Nickelodeon. What I like is that Nicky gets to see them now. He LOVES “You Can’t Do That On Television”. That was the birth of green slime being poured on a person’s head. If you said, “I don’t know.” The slime would get dumped on his or her head.
One thing I learned was that kids with autism can find some of Sid and Marty Kroftt’s characters rather frightening. A few of them scared Nicky. Poor kid was afraid I’d be mad. He can’t help it if something frightens him. He’s also scared of clowns.
I know a lot of people who are afraid of clowns, many because of Poltergeist. They never bothered me.
I hate when Nicky worries that I will be mad at him for something. I rarely get mad at him, but it’s thanks to those nit wits at the other company I went through for respite. Many of the people who worked with him, treated him poorly. I can’t dwell too heavily on that because I will get angry again. Some of the things done to my child were close to… No, they were UNforgivable. That’s why I can’t think too long about it. As a parent, when you place your child in the hands of another, you expect that your child will be safe, and when something horrible happens, you end up with issues. He has issues because of it. Of course I am going to. I’m going to be mighty pissed off about it.
Mom is already moved into apartment four and she’s already getting settled in. She’s the only person I know that can move in a day. I wish I had her organizational skills. I bet she wishes I did, too. Much as I love my peanut, anytime I start to organize, Nicky decides to unorganize it. He can mess a room rapidly, and then he will blame ME if he loses something. Go figure. Is it a boy thing or boy with autism thing? I love him so much, but sometimes he can really frustrate me, especially when he gets angry at me. I do have to admit, I am really good at defusing his anger though. He isn’t mean at heart, though once in awhile, he will make a really cruel remark. It’s one of those things that will take a person aback because it’s so unlike him, and it will be so mean. After he says it, and he gets questioned, he usually bursts into tears. He doesn’t always know why he does it either.
I need to get some sleep. I was hesitant because when I tried to swallow some generic benedryl earlier, it caught in my throat, scraped it up, and I choked. I’m coughing up a little blood and some remaining granules of the dissolved tablets. I just hope I don’t end up with strep now. I’m prone to infections anyway because I’m diabetic, I’ve also cut the back of my throat before and ended up sick. I’m just grateful Mom was here when I choked. Had I been alone, it would have been more terrifying. I’m just hoping I can take my bedtime medication without a problem.
One thing I learned was that kids with autism can find some of Sid and Marty Kroftt’s characters rather frightening. A few of them scared Nicky. Poor kid was afraid I’d be mad. He can’t help it if something frightens him. He’s also scared of clowns.
I know a lot of people who are afraid of clowns, many because of Poltergeist. They never bothered me.
I hate when Nicky worries that I will be mad at him for something. I rarely get mad at him, but it’s thanks to those nit wits at the other company I went through for respite. Many of the people who worked with him, treated him poorly. I can’t dwell too heavily on that because I will get angry again. Some of the things done to my child were close to… No, they were UNforgivable. That’s why I can’t think too long about it. As a parent, when you place your child in the hands of another, you expect that your child will be safe, and when something horrible happens, you end up with issues. He has issues because of it. Of course I am going to. I’m going to be mighty pissed off about it.
Mom is already moved into apartment four and she’s already getting settled in. She’s the only person I know that can move in a day. I wish I had her organizational skills. I bet she wishes I did, too. Much as I love my peanut, anytime I start to organize, Nicky decides to unorganize it. He can mess a room rapidly, and then he will blame ME if he loses something. Go figure. Is it a boy thing or boy with autism thing? I love him so much, but sometimes he can really frustrate me, especially when he gets angry at me. I do have to admit, I am really good at defusing his anger though. He isn’t mean at heart, though once in awhile, he will make a really cruel remark. It’s one of those things that will take a person aback because it’s so unlike him, and it will be so mean. After he says it, and he gets questioned, he usually bursts into tears. He doesn’t always know why he does it either.
I need to get some sleep. I was hesitant because when I tried to swallow some generic benedryl earlier, it caught in my throat, scraped it up, and I choked. I’m coughing up a little blood and some remaining granules of the dissolved tablets. I just hope I don’t end up with strep now. I’m prone to infections anyway because I’m diabetic, I’ve also cut the back of my throat before and ended up sick. I’m just grateful Mom was here when I choked. Had I been alone, it would have been more terrifying. I’m just hoping I can take my bedtime medication without a problem.
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