Meltdowns and Milestones

I know, it's been a long time since I've updated you guys on all the happenings. As of late, the Prince is getting to be of the age of "Look at me!", "Give me attention, I'm cute!", and the ever popular "If yelling at you didn't get my point across, I'll try yelling louder." He's getting to be 2 years old. This is his way.There has been quite a bit that's happened since we've last spoken, Lovelies. So let's cover the basics first:

The Prince had his 2 year check up, and he's growing fabulously! Unfortunately, he is quite a bit behind on most all of his milestones, for various reasons, mostly lack of opportunity, and the chaos that is our lives. We're working with him and will check on his progress in a few months, but it may lead to Early Intervention. That's OK. The doctor isn't really concerned with autism being a factor for him, but does think that it may help in the long run. I can't disagree with that.

We've recently had some progress with the Princess, but not before we hit the biggest rough patch in our journey so far. You see, when I've talked about behaviors before, while the pounding her feet on the floor was bad, I never realized that it could get so much worse. Worse, it did get. Much worse.

We were going into a break at school, we'd just had the Princess' 4th birthday, things were looking great. Sleeping was still up in the air, but on most nights, once she went to sleep, she slept well.  The night of her birthday, I don't believe she slept well. Nor the night after. With each night that sleep was lost, the more angry her mood became, or seemed to be. She was waking in the morning in full on melt down mode, would have brief moments of peace, but they could end so quickly that my head was spinning.

Over the course of the next four days-- A weekend, no less.-- the behaviors that I thought were bad quickly faded, and what replaced them was something I wish I had never seen. My beautiful little girl was hitting herself. Straight slapping herself in the face, if she had toys in her hands they'd be used. She was banging her head into the wall hard enough that she caused 3 separate holes in them. Not only that, but headbutting objects as well. Running from one side of the room to the other to try to get as much velocity as possible.

The King and I were taking turns chasing after her with a pillow to make sure that she couldn't hurt herself. It was exhausting. Each cry, every sound. Always wondering is this round 2, 3, 10? The King scheduled a day off from work so we could take her into her doctor. What we needed, we had no idea. What we wanted was help. That's what we got.

It didn't come without it's own adventure. The night before the appointment, the Princess woke at 1am and was up until 6am. I had to be up at 7am to make the appointment-- emergency appointment procedure.-- I was able to get one hour of sleep in. Now, not knowing how to word what I needed to the receptionist was what stood in my way. Upon even saying tantrums, I was cut off and not allowed to complete what I was looking to achieve, especially if I had already spoken to her primary about it. I couldn't be sure exactly what counted as talking about tantrums, and it ended in my yelling through my own tears, "Please! You don't understand! Can I please see anybody else? Please!" When I was told no, that they'd leave a message, I felt defeated.

I couldn't wake my husband to tell him of my failure. That's all I saw it as. Failure. When the King did wake up, and I told him of the situation, he jumped to work. One hour and fifteen minutes later was our appointment. I was assured by the King that his only wish was that I had woken him sooner, that he couldn't blame me.-- I love this man for a reason, but I digress.-- The moment we walked into the exam room, I was overwhelmed with support. Each new person to walk into the room had a new piece of news that I was floored.

The doctor ordered a new prescription for the Princess to help her sleep at night. It was our last resort medicine that also helps with behaviors. It's worked wonders. Now my little lady is waking up happy, sleeping well at night, all night. Even more, she stopped hitting herself. She's more talkative, more affectionate, learning new things. Sure she still has the occasional outburst, but I know that she's not numb that way. And they are outbursts with reasons, she's actually hungry, in need of a diaper, or thirsty.
We also got a referral to a child psychologist. I'm still skeptical of this one, because for everything that I know-- As a layman, of course.-- about therapies such as this would require a patient that is verbal. I am going into it with an open mind, however. You never know what someone who is educated in the field can do, after all.

The referral that I'm most excited for though is a feeding/swallowing evaluation. These people specialize in children with autism, and can cover so much of the things that we are dealing with, that I just feel like that is the place we need to be.

I know with all of these new referrals that our lives will never be slow paced truly again. We're going to have a lot of doctors appointments in our future, but it's worth it. The independence that I am seeing in my Princess these days is nothing short of incredible. I'm still so proud to be her mommy.

I will try to do better to make more time to update you all, my Lovelies. With this new pace we are setting, it takes another period of adjustment. Once we get into the swing of things, I'm sure I'll be up regularly. I know I'll have so much to update you on, and I know I haven't covered everything up until this point either.
So until next time, Lovelies, I hope you all have a Happy Holiday season!

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today, October 15th, 2013 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness day. Oddly, it's also around 5 years to the day that I suffered a miscarriage. So, in honor of this day, while it has nothing to do with autism, or my little royals, I thought I'd open up and share a brief but profound moment in my history. I will try to keep the graphic details to myself mostly, but anyone who knows anything about miscarriage knows that these stories are not for the squeamish. So, if you would like, now is the time to go back.

The King and I had only been married for a few months, but together for years when I first started thinking about having a family. After some discussion on the topic, we had decided to start trying to get pregnant. After only a couple of months, we were blessed to have gotten a positive pregnancy test! I was so excited, my family was on it's way. I immediately started to day dream about what life as a new mother would be like. In my excitement, I shared with anybody and everybody who would listen to my news. I was to be a mommy very soon!

Then the morning sickness set in, but it didn't seem so bad. I was counting the weeks, one by one, and I'll admit looking back, my morning sickness did ease up. I paid it no attention, since I was nearly twelve weeks, and almost out of the first trimester. Morning sickness was supposed to ease by now. The morning of my miscarriage started normally enough. The King had to get up and go to work, and I was going to enjoy a nice quiet day at home.

When I started to experience the cramping, I really didn't think much of it, because I'd had some in the beginning part of my pregnancy, and I figured it was growing pains. So I laid down on the couch to watch T.V. and take it easy. They progressively started to get worse. By the point I was doubling over in pain with each cramp, I knew something was wrong. I went to the bathroom, only to confirm my fears. I was bleeding.
I didn't know much about miscarriage up until that point. I knew it was more likely in the first trimester, but once you hit the second chances where less likely. I knew you bled. I did not think it would happen to me. When I passed the first clot, I thought that it was the baby. I didn't know otherwise. I called my mother sobbing, unsure of what to do now. I called my doctor, while she called my best friend. They told me to rest and take it easy, and to come in if I felt the need to.

After about 20 to 30 minutes of handling this alone, my best friend showed up ready to bring me to the hospital. In this process, both my mother and my best friend had also been attempting to reach my husband, who while at work it's hard to reach him. When they finally got a hold of him, he left immediately to rush to the ER, only to beat us there. The way it worked out, I ended up sitting next to my best friend's eight month old son. It's just the way it worked out, I do not begrudge her this, never have. I digress. I remember sitting in the back seat, as he looked at me, thinking about the fact that my chances of motherhood where over. It was hard, but I got through it. When we arrived at the ER entrance, the King was right there waiting with a wheelchair, and had apparently already registered me.

It didn't take long to get back to a room, and finally they had given me something for pain. I laid in that bed, hopeless. I felt like the ultimate failure. My body couldn't do the one thing it was made to do. As ultrasound machines were rolled in, it only confirmed suspicions that the baby wasn't there, they could find no heartbeat. When checking the progress of the miscarriage, it seemed that my body wasn't doing what it was supposed to. It was soon decided that I needed an emergency D&C. D&C, also known as dilation and curettage, is a surgical procedure often performed after a first trimester miscarriage.-- This information was pulled from americanpregnancy.org and you can find the article here.-- I was taken to OR prep, where I was put under.

When I woke up in recovery, I was confused for a bit. As I grasped my  bearings about me, the events of the day came back. I renewed my tears again at the thought of the loss of the baby. MY baby. I no longer had a life inside of me, as I had when I woke up that morning. It was more than 12 hours later, and nothing was the same. I fell into a bit of a depression after that. I no longer wanted to try for a new baby. I didn't want to think about trying to replace what I just lost. Besides, my body failed me. After we left the ER, we decided to go get food. We went to our favorite 24 hour restaurant, and one of the regular waitresses saw us, walked right up to us smiling, and proclaimed "I heard you were having a baby! Congratulations!" I don't know who's face fell hardest, hers or mine when I had to tell her that the news was no longer.

After several months, I started to come around. I realized that my body didn't fail me, that there was likely something wrong with the baby. It was never discovered why I lost the baby, just that it didn't look like it made it past six weeks. I eventually came to the conclusion that I might be OK with trying again. Really, I decided not to prevent. Wouldn't you know it, it didn't take long to get a new positive pregnancy test. I was far more apprehensive this time though, not wanting to share the news with everyone, just in case I lost another. This one was meant to be, though.

Tonight, at 7pm my time zone I will be lighting a candle for my angel baby. I encourage you to do the same.

Sucess, Failure and Soup

When I first imagined life with my new Princess, I expected the first several months to be many ups and downs, and plenty of sleepless nights. Now, almost four years later, it's supposed to be mostly balanced. By now, most children are sleeping through the night, perhaps different times for bedtimes, different struggles to get there; but by the time they're out, that's it until morning.

4:00 am is a time where most are usually asleep. The only real activity amongst the family is deep breathing, and perhaps some snoring. Not in my house. Usually, at that hour, there are at least two members of our household up. The Princess and myself. Depending on the night, it could be pleasant, or it could be miserable. There could be many ups and downs, or there could only be a few. The one constant is that there is almost always someone awake in this house at all times. As I'm sure you've assumed by now, our first attempt at night time meds aren't working as effectively as we'd like.

The first week was great, from there we went straight down hill. The other night was probably the first time that the Princess had woken both the King and I. It was a particularly tumultuous night. The day before was a rough one. Paired with little sleep, and two royals who simultaneously felt the need to scream at the mommy all day, I was in tears by the time the King got home. This happens sometimes, but with the extra pair of hands, things went smoother and eventually everything was peaceful. Until 3:00 AM.

That's when it started. It started similarly to every other late night. The Princess is screaming, I try to change her, get her some milk and a movie. This was not enough for her, and that's when some head banging began. My nerves already shot, that was the final straw, and the tears started flowing again. I attempted to feed her, attempted to get her to calm down, but to no avail. The King decided to step in to lend a helping hand.

When usually the Princess sees her daddy, she's immediately all smiles, this night was different. She kept going right back to the wall to commence head banging. When he tried to redirect her, she went to a different wall. It came time to try to protect her from herself, and he fought to keep her in a hug with him. She's strong. Honestly, when she's in these moods, my only hope is to get between her and the wall. There's no way I can get her to stay in one spot.

Finally, we were able to get things settled down once more, and after reflecting with the King, I realized-- Probably for the very first time-- how lost he really felt in all of this. He's always held this stoic attitude, and perhaps so have I. For the first time I saw his vulnerability in not knowing how to deal with our autistic Princess. It was heart breaking, and heart warming all at once.

We both woke up sleep deprived the next morning, but honestly, I rather see him in a new light these days. He, like me, is just doing the best he can. That's all we can do. That and find extra things to channel the frustration that come with the hurdles. To channel my extra frustration lately, I've been cooking. It's funny because at one point, the word "domestic" in any way was akin to a four letter word. Never let it be uttered, lest it summon up something as unholy as, say Beetlejuice. I digress.

What I've realized is that for me, cooking has become an outlet. My "do-over" button. Life to me trying to raise a Princess with autism is like a series of attempts and failures. I attempt to get her to eat something else, I fail. I attempt to get her to sleep at night, I fail. With each new attempt, I hit another brick wall. Cooking though, I can follow the guidelines, I can experiment. Usually if I fail, I can pinpoint an exact step in which I failed, to correct and be successful later.

As selfish as I feel to say it, it helps boost my confidence. I love the fact that after all of my effort, I can taste it and be proud that I created this. The look on the Prince's face as he eats and enjoys each new menu item warms my heart. So much better than baby food. This is the confidence I think I've needed to continue to push forward and attempt and fail. Eventually, though I wont fail. There will always be small successes, and big successes. Small failures and big failures. Each as significant as the other. In the meantime, between the successes and the failures, I will cook.

Grieving the Loss of 'Normal'

If you know me, you know that I detest the word "normal". Maybe it's because of the Princess' autism diagnosis, but I think I've always disliked it. I've never truly believed that there was any such thing as "normal". Then again, I suppose there could be several definitions, or interpretations of "normal". The "normal" that I grieve is one of a different caliper.

Upon receiving the Princess' diagnosis, it shattered any remaining illusions that I had built up in my mind. To me at that point, "normal" was going to be watching my daughter grow, learn and try new things. I was going to sit in amazement at her ability to pick up words, watch with amusement the clumsy learning to roll, crawl and eventually, walk. I would baulk at my toddler's new found independence; while showing pride in my wide beaming smile, I'd of course secretly be wishing my little girl would remain my baby forever. After all, this is what MY peers where doing. The new mommies of little ones right around my age, in all different walks of life, from all different parts of the country.

So of course, when we received the diagnosis, my world, my dreams and fantasies came crashing down around me. I definitely have gone through many different phases of emotions since then. The most underlying of course is love for my Princess, for my Prince. I blamed myself for so long, that I almost didn't know what it was like to not feel guilty. It wasn't until recently that I've started to come out of this tunnel, and with the light that I see, comes a bit of clarity.

I've come to the conclusion that I had to grieve. I still do. Like the loss of a loved one, a diagnosis of autism-- Or any other illness or anything that affects us for the rest of our lives, for that matter-- can completely rock your world.  You have effectively killed off your fantasies of how life would have gone, could have gone, should have gone. Life as you know it, or have dreamed of it will never be the same. I now understand that I've had to go through my own five stages of grief. I'd like to share it with you, Lovelies.

1. Denial: 
My denial phase actually went on before we even received the diagnosis. I denied there was even an issue for so long. "Oh, look. She's holding her bottle now, she'll be fine.",  "She's just being stubborn, why should she if we will for her?",  "All that eye contact she gives me! Nope, no problems here!". The list can go on, but man. If denial was a river in Egypt, I would have flooded it with my additions. Absolute mayhem.

2. Anger:
Oh goodness, this one is what I feel is the most selfish of all, for me at least. Those who truly know me, know that I haven't always had the easiest of childhoods. I've never seen myself as a victim, I am a survivor. Once we received the Princess' diagnosis, that changed for a bit. I was angry! All I could see was myself and my life. It was gone. "Why me?" I'd ask myself. "Haven't I been a good enough person? Haven't I been through enough?" I was so focused on what this meant to me, to MY life, that I never stopped to think about one thing. This wasn't happening to ME. This was happening to HER. She was the one living in a body that wanted to betray her. SHE was the one struggling to get her want or need from herself and communicate it with me. Not the other way around. Once I understood this, the anger left. For the most part at least. This is one that likes to rear it's ugly head occasionally. Just to a much lessor extent these days. As soon as I was able to let the anger go, that's when the next step came in.

3. Bargaining:
Oh the bargaining. I sure did bargain. "Maybe if I had her do more tummy time as an infant...", "If only I read to her more...",  "Perhaps if I had just done...". Boy did I blame myself. I knew that this had to be something that I did or didn't do. This couldn't have happened to her if it weren't for me! It's taken time, but I do understand that it was absolutely nothing I did or didn't do. It just is. It's not because I vaccinated her, or didn't. It's not because she didn't go to daycare and get social interaction. This was meant to be her existence; and by proxy, mine.

4. Depression:
They say this one can come in many forms. It doesn't have to be debilitating sadness. We each process differently, after all. But boy did the tears flow. I cried at the Princess' loss of a "normal" life. I cried for her, I cried for myself. I cried for the fact that my world was shattered. I cried because she's the one who has to deal with it all, and she never asked for more than to exist. When the tears stopped coming, I was sad. Sad at the struggles, sad for the Prince the fact that he will most likely love his sister so much that he my decide to take care of her. When does he get to be a kid? That's one that I am still working on.

5. Acceptance:
Ah, the fifth and final stage. This is the one that it has taken me longest to get to, and I'm not always sure that I'm quite there yet. Almost. I know that autism just is, and I am learning that it is not the end all that I once thought it was. It's taken time and support to come around to this finding. I never would have come to this point if it weren't for the support of those around me. Those who loved the Princess and myself so much that they became our own cheering team. To those cheerleaders-- and I know you know who you are.-- Thank you. We couldn't have come this far without you.

The Cold Bug Strikes Again

Hello again, Lovelies. Welcome back. September marks many things. The end of summer and summer vacation. Fall is on it's way in, and with that comes colorful leaves, cooler weather and the start of school. Which brings me to the next thing that September usually brings. The start of the cold and flu season. It's back in full swing in our home, and frankly this is why I hate this time of year.

Let me tell you about probably one of the worst days I've had so far. It all starts with a certain Princess starting to sound a little 'off'. She's drinking her cups a little slower, seems to be breathing through her mouth a little. Was that a sniffle I detected? The next day, I learned that yes, it was in fact a sniffle. Two days later, the Prince seems to be starting this same process. Flash to Sunday evening, everybody is trying to wind down for the night. The Princess is given her night time meds, the Prince even seems to go down early. I take this as a moment to get some extra shut eye myself.

At about 1:30am, I awaken to the Prince screaming his little heart out. He's happy to see me, I try to get him a bottle and a snack. He's calm and settles back down into bed. Again, I decide to do the same. 3:30am comes around, and same story. We actually repeat this process a few times over the course of the night. At about 7:30am, we're back at it, and I have to admit, I'm cranky. As I am cursing the husbands name-- Audibly to him, I'm to find out later.-- I step out of my bedroom onto the kitchen floor, and before I know it my feet are out from under me and I've landed-- Hard.-- on my side.

To say at that moment I felt like one of the kids is an understatement. In that moment, my actions are exactly what I have witnessed my children do: Lay stunned for a moment, shocked that this just happened. Once that feeling wore off, I cried. Yes, I surely did. The King then came out to find me on the floor, crying and both children crying as well. Once I got over the fact that I fell, I pulled myself off of the floor, assessed my own injuries, then continued on to take care of feeding the Princess.

I'd like to say that's where the story got less chaotic for me, but alas, I cannot. You see, both the Royals are sick, and now I am injured. The King has to go to work, so I did what I do best: push through and hope for a smooth day. Half of my goal came true. I did push through. At different points of the day, I was dealing with one or the other screaming. One's nose is running, the other can't breath, we need a new movie. If it wasn't one or the other, it was both.

The way the Prince was screaming most of the day, I'd swear the "man cold" is starting way early. Is that even possible? He's not quite 2 years old yet, and still he screams louder than his sister on this one. He wasn't eating, or drinking. Just stuffy and miserable. In a moment of frustration, after the umpteenth attempt to get him to eat on his own, I busted out a jar of baby food. For the first time since he has started eating table food, he opened his mouth and allowed me to feed him this puree.
For the first time in the house all day, there was peace. Unfortunately, this took me until about 4:00pm and countless baths and tears to figure it out. I'm not saying it all got better, it just got a little easier to deal with. When the King got home, I did have a second pair of hands to help, but we still had many moments of chaos.

Today, the Prince has eaten eggs, at least. So, he's feeling a bit better. The Princess is foregoing her usual two jars of food a sitting for one. Anything more just increases the reminder that her nose is stuffy. So while we are doing more feedings, she's at least still eating. I can tell she's feeling a bit better, but I have a feeling that as far as moods go, it's going to be a while before she's truly her happy go lucky self.
I'm healing too, still very stiff and bruised-- Which is made truly known when the Princess kicks the leg I landed on.-- but I'll survive.

On another note, I did receive a phone call yesterday about the Princess' medical diagnosis. It seems her referral was approved, and now we just need to make appointments and keep them. I'm so happy to see this forward movement in the process that I just can't seem to sit still. Or maybe that's the sick Royals. Either way, I will most definitely keep you, my Lovelies in the loop! Until next time, stay healthy!

"You're Doing a Great Job"

Hello there, Lovelies. I know, it's been a while. It's been crazy busy, I swear we go through these cycles that last for a few weeks of chaos, then back to our "normal routine" whatever that may be these days. So what's been keeping me so busy, you may ask? Well, I recently had to have a tooth pulled, our washing machine broke down and on top of all of that, we were still struggling with sleep issues. Don't cry for me, Lovelies. The truth is most of these things are solved now. Most.

So finally, I made the appointment with the Princess' doctor to address the sleep issues. Due to lack of a car, I had to bring both of the Royals with me. I normally prefer to find a babysitter for the one whom the appointment isn't for, but when it comes down to it, you have to do what you have to do. Seeing as how it's the first week of preschool for the Princess, it's more important now than ever to really get these sleep issues under control. So, as usual, I planned my outing down to the very tiniest detail I could.

I made sure to find the diagnosis paperwork, should the doctor's office need it. I pre-packed everything I could. I couldn't find my purse, so I used my son's backpack. Yep, I was the mom carrying a backpack that was clearly for one of her children.-- My hubby later told me that he had found my purse, it has slipped behind the washer. Where it still sits.-- Everything was going according to plan. OK, maybe not fully according to plan, we were about ten minutes late to the appointment.

We arrive at the doctor's office, and I get the Prince out first. I set him on the seat while I work towards getting the Princess out of hers. When I did, I set her down so I could pick up the Prince-- My first mistake-- the Princess tried to bolt. I grabbed her, and we made our way into the parking garage to the elevator. The Princess had never stepped onto an elevator before, and that tiny gap between the car and the floor of the platform really threw her off. Carefully, she did. Riding in the elevator, she stared at the floor that she could tell was moving under her, but the room didn't look like it. I couldn't help but giggle at the wonder on her face.

We get into the office, and the first thing she does is start running back and forth. I checked us into our appointment, all while keeping an eye on my little lady. It was an hour long wait to get back to the examination room. All the while, the Princess was running. I had tried a few times-- To no avail.-- to get her to sit next to her brother on one of the chairs. At some point I was finally successful, but I had to kneel in front of both of them to keep them entertained.-- By the way, if you were in the office that day, and I blocked your path, I am truly sorry.-- another little girl, no older than 5 years old sat on the other side of the Prince and smiled at me and the Royals.

Eventually, the Prince demanded to be picked up, and once that happened getting the Princess to sit in one spot is next to impossible. So she started running. Someone left the door to the back rooms open, she noticed. Within seconds, she had run into the back offices. You bet, I was the mom who then carried my youngest in my arms while running after her. I got a friendly smile from the nurse, and I asked which way to go to get back to the waiting room. After giving me directions she said, "You've got your hands full, huh?"

What I wanted to say was, "Nah, just getting my exercise." or something equally as sarcastic, yet positive. All that came out was, "Just a little."

Upon re-entering the waiting room, of course the Princess started running again. The same little girl from earlier decided that it looked like fun, and ran after her. Too cute for words. Finally, we were called back to a room. The usual steps happen, lets check weight. Of course they wanted her shoes to come off, and of course she ran to a supply room before I had a chance to catch her. I set the Prince down, and retrieved her. Got her shoes off, then got her weight.

Next, height. Stand against the wall. As I'm trying to position her, there goes the Prince, attempting to go exploring. Thankfully the sweet nurse did get him, and we got her height-- 3'4", I might add.-- then she bolted down the hallway. Suddenly feeling a pull between the Prince who was right there wanting to explore, and the Princess who is now down the hallway already exploring, I made the quickest decision possible. To chase after the Princess. Finally I caught up to her and got her back, and we were on our way to a room. Thankfully the nurse carried the Prince.

Once in the room, the basics are covered as well, check her blood pressure, get a bit of the "why" we are here today, heart rate, etc. The Prince decided this is the point where he is going to start screaming. I try to change him, no luck. He wont take his bottle, he just wants to scream in my ear. The Princess is going back and forth on being moody, or happy. The nurse finishes her duties and informs me the doctor will be in shortly. While we are alone, I work towards getting both kids settled. Graham cracker for the Prince. He's still not happy. Toys for the Princess-- Yes, I did pack several-- I hear the knock on the door and the doctor comes in.

The Prince is still crying in my arms, and the Princess is losing her cool very quickly. She sees the doctor's laptop and wants to play. When she's denied, that is it. We go into full blown tantrum mode.-- Which is kind of a good thing, because she doesn't generally do this in public, but having the doctor see it was key.-- The Princess went down the list of all of the behaviors: Head banging, heel kicks to the floor, squeezing things-- like my arm, or her stuffed animal.-- All the while the Prince is still screaming in my ear, and the doctor is asking me questions, and giving me tips as to next steps to take for a medical diagnosis-- Yes, we currently have an educational one, that covers her preschool. Once we have a medical diagnosis, I will make sure to let you all know of the difference--  and I am busy bouncing back and forth between children to try to calm both.

The Prince was tired. He eventually fell asleep on my shoulder. We wrapped up the appointment with a sleeping medicine prescription having been sent in to the pharmacy. On the doctor's way out, she told me, "You're doing a great job." Man, those five words meant all the world to me in that moment. I wont go into all the details of getting the Royals packed up and out the door, as I'm pretty sure this post is long enough. I will say, however, that upon getting back into the car and taking my first breath, I looked down and yep. I found the graham cracker from earlier. Down my shirt.

So yes, I was the stereotypical frazzled mom, chasing after one toddler while carrying the other. Clearly overwhelmed. The thing that made it all better was getting the affirmation that I was doing a great job. So to you, Mom in the grocery store with the child having a meltdown because you denied them the sugary cereal or candy bar or toy, you're doing a great job. To you, the parent driving the car while your children scream at you and you try desperately to keep your cool to drive safely, you're doing a great job. To all moms, dads, caregivers, guardians: You're doing a great job.

Nap Time

Good evening, Lovelies. I guess morning. It's about 4:30 am here, and I've been up for an hour. At 11 pm, I just couldn't keep my eyes open. By 3:30 am, I was up with the little royals again. What a wonderful nap. Now I sit here drinking my hot chocolate-- After an agonizing hour of battling with myself whether or not to make coffee. I opted for not yet. That could change.

Sleeping issues are something that have been quite prevalent in my world lately, and frankly, it sucks. The Prince would be easy enough-- In theory-- to wake up after a late night, deprive him of a nap and regulate his schedule. He sleeps. When he does finally go down for bedtime, he is out for eight or nine hours. With anywhere from a two to three hour nap in the middle. This is what the King and many others have recommended. To be completely honest, the only reason I don't do it is because I'm exhausted. Usually on those late nights, I've been up with the Prince AND the Princess. When I do finally buck up and bear it, I'm certain this will most likely be successful. Again, he sleeps. The Princess naps.

That is quite literally the only explanation I can give. When she sleeps, she sleeps anywhere from two to four hours at a time, and that's it. She'll be up for hours afterwards. Then down for two to four hours, rinse and repeat.

A real example of her sleeping schedule the last week or so-- We'll start from going to bed:

10:00 pm-11:00 pm: Falls asleep after a busy day.
1:00 am-2:00 am: Awake, usually in need of a diaper change and to eat two jars of food.
4:30 am-6:00 am: (This one varies) Eat two more jars of food and fall asleep.
9:30 am-11:00 am: Awake for the day.

Gosh, seeing that written out is almost a little depressing to me. Especially when I think of the earlier days of our existence with our Princess. She was an amazing sleeper. I couldn't have asked for an easier baby on that front. From about 2.5 months she started sleeping in her own bed, in her own room. Through the night. OK, I lied. We'd wake once through the night, requiring a bottle; then right back to bed until morning. It wasn't until she was about 2 years old that she started regressing, and I haven't seen those easy days since.
I've tried everything. I've tried night time routine. I've tried Melatonin-- On doctor's orders. I've tried herbal tea that promotes sleep. It's supposed to be amazing stuff. Maybe I'll try it next time I get non-children induced insomnia. With her, I tried to sneak it into her bottle. First I tried the mixture the same ratio as I do water to milk in her cups. That did not go over well. A few hours later-- And a trusted bottle later-- I tried two droplets of the tea-- Lemon ginger, for those wondering-- in her normal drink. Apparently, it's the little things and she still refused. So here I sit with tea and melatonin and a very awake Princess.

The King made a comment to me last night before I crashed. Something about it not being healthy to adapt to this nocturnal schedule like I am. I don't disagree with him. I sense where it's hitting my health. Beyond being exhausted and bags under my eyes, I've noticed some digestion issues. My temper is a little shorter than I'd like. I get random twitches and ticks. I know that if I were to consistently get enough sleep, that will all change. It makes me think though. If lack of sleep is doing all of this to me and my typically functioning body, what is it doing to the Princess'?

I know part of her sleeping issues are her all-fruit-all-the-time-diet. All that sugar, natural or not, can't possibly be good for her. She just wont even LOOK at anything else. Any other option at this moment is public enemy number one in the Princess' eyes. But I wonder if maybe we were able to get her to sleep, maybe we'll be able to get over the dietary issues. And the behavioral issues. Maybe that babbling stringing together that's starting to sound like sentences will become sentences. Maybe, just maybe.

So how do I do this, you may ask? How am I going to possibly get the Princess to sleep? I don't know. I do know that with the school year quickly approaching, I need to do something. Her doctor had mentioned getting her on a sleep aid at one point. First we would try melatonin to reset her internal clock. It didn't work. I haven't gotten her on any other sleep aids yet. I've heavily thought on it, and truthfully I maybe should have already just done it. I just haven't been ready yet. Something about giving my almost four year old a sleep aid almost feels selfish to me. Like I'm drugging her so that I can get some shut eye. If I can just keep wading through these nights, maybe I'll get my amazing sleeper back.

I know it sounds silly. I do. I can't help it. I am facing the reality that in fact I might be helping her.  As the King said, it's not healthy to have this sleep schedule. Maybe this is just one more thing to buck up and bear.

Starting Over

Happy Monday, Lovelies! I hope you all had wonderful weekends! Our weekend wasn't a bad one, but it didn't involve much sleep. Lately, most nights have been consistent of night owl children-- I know I've mentioned it before, and from the looks of things, this wont be the last time-- and then they sleep all day. It's not my favorite process, but I can deal. So on Saturday night, I decided to call it a night at about 11:00 pm. Three hours later I woke up to the hubby crawling into bed. It always amazes me how he can go from zero to snoring in less than 60 seconds, but I digress. No sooner do I hear the snoring does the Prince start crying.

Not just crying, but screaming. At this point, the Princess is sleeping so I attempt to calm the Prince before that slumber is disturbed. No matter what I tried; cuddling, rocking, a new bottle or toy, nothing was working. He would just start crying again the second I tried to set him down. My last ditch effort was to feed him some graham crackers-- a personal favorite of his-- and try to get him down again. Though he is not crying anymore, he does stay up to play for another hour or so. By 4:00 am, I am exhausted. Fifteen minutes later, he is finally asleep. I crawl back into bed and try to close my eyes, but as it turns out, the soothing sound of snoring isn't so soothing after all. After tossing and turning for who knows how long, I start to feel that familiar pull of dream land.

It seems I've only slept seconds when I start to hear crying from the Princess' room. I shut my eyes tighter, hoping that somehow that will make the sound stop. It doesn't, shockingly enough. It's 4:30 am by the time I look at the clock, and my alarm is the sound of the Princess screaming. I go into her room and change her diaper, dodging kicks coming my direction. I try to get her a new movie and tell her that it's still bedtime. As the level of her crying increases, so does my frustration level. I decide quiet time in her room might do her some good, as sometimes this is the only way for her to calm down and relax.

After what seems like hours-- which was mere minutes, really-- the crying hasn't ceased. She kicks the walls and floor as she goes. Her face is beat red from all of her screaming, I know she's hungry, but she's worked herself into such a frenzy that she refuses a bite of her favorite food. All the while the crying, kicking and screaming doesn't stop. I start to yell, I'm so mad. Mostly because I just don't know what to do. I break down in tears myself. 'I just want sleep!' I think to myself. Then it dawns on me.

It isn't her fault that we're going through this cycle. Sure, she was probably woken up by the Prince, and when she found it to be dark and she had a wet diaper, she just wasn't happy. She wasn't the reason I had been up since 2:00 am. We were just feeding off of each other. I'm sure that my face reflected her beat red status. As I looked into my daughter's tear filled eyes, I resolved that I would change this. At this point I was still struggling to feed her. I took a deep breath.

"You and I, baby girl are tired. It's still dark outside. Let's end this cycle we're in and start over. Fresh. A brand new day." I don't know if the words were for her benefit or mine, but I said them anyway. While she had stopped screaming, I could tell that she was apprehensive. So I resolved to lead by my actions.
I wiped my eyes dry, slapped a smile on my face and started singing to her. I have no idea what I sang to her, I'm pretty sure I just put words randomly together to a tune. As we got through the first jar of food, her face wasn't red anymore. By the end of the second jar, she was smiling and giggling with me. The rest of the morning went really well after that, I'm happy to say.

The Princess eventually went down for a nap around 10:00 am. Shortly after, the Prince woke up. It seems that they effectively tag teamed an all nighter. So yeah, if you see a zombified woman on the streets who looks like she can't hold her head up, pay her no mind. That's just me. But pass the coffee, will you?

'The Look'

Hi there, Lovelies! It was another late night with the little royals last night, so they are both comfortably
sleeping in. Not me, of course. They've already conditioned me to wake early most every morning. I digress. I was talking with the husband the other night, and he was telling me about how his boss was asking him questions as to what autism was, what it was like to deal with it and what may cause it.

What I find interesting in this is that I do not get that type of response upon  a new stranger learning of the Princess' autism. I get 'The Look'. I can't recall if I've mentioned this look before, but let me give a quick description. 'The Look', as I've so dubbed it, is one that can only be painted as one of pity, empathy, confusion, curiosity and relief. Relief that they don't have to deal with it.-- I do totally understand the relief. I've probably had it on my face plenty of times before autism came into my life.-- With a slight tilt of the head and a raised eyebrow, this look portrays so much.

The problem here is that while this look says so much, our mouths usually fail us. Instead the actual worded response is "Oh, OK." and rapid change of subject. As if to say that I myself am so fragile that I would be offended by asking further questions. I wouldn't be. You see, if you talk to me about it, sure you'll see the frustrations that come with it. It's not a cakewalk. You may also find that my Princess is my hero. I cope with trying to raise a child with autism, one who is non verbal and is trying her best to communicate her needs. SHE is the one dealing with the body that betrays her. A constant onslaught of sensory overload that bombard,  overwhelm and downright frighten her. A world that she should feel safe and secure in can be the very thing that makes her feel insecure.

Mommy doesn't always get it. Mommy gets frustrated, she yells sometimes. Mommy sometimes cries and sometimes, she trembles. She does her best to treat each and every day like a brand new day. My Princess doesn't get the option to say "Today is a new day, today my body will give me a great day." But each and every day, she gets up with a smile on her face, ready to play and explore. Ready to try new things. This is why she is MY hero. She will always be my hero.

So, with all of that said-- Back to my main point-- Why would the King get any different kind of response than I would? His theory is that when they hear he has an autistic daughter, they assume that I am the primary caregiver-- an accurate assumption.-- so it's a different feeling for them. I suppose that makes sense. Here's the thing: There shouldn't be a difference in how the parents are treated. Moms are no more fragile than dads in these cases.

Today, I think I'll wrap up this post with just a few pieces of advice when and if you ever come across a parent of a child with autism.

1. Unless told directly, don't ask if there's something wrong with the child.
Not that I've actually experienced this, but I figure it's worth mentioning. Unless the parent is forthcoming with the information, it's probably not best to assume that there might be autism-- or any other special needs for that matter-- involved.

2. If you have a question, ask!
I think the common misconception is that we might be offended, or you might say the wrong thing. I enjoy when someone actively engages me with their curiosities, and I am more than happy to share my knowledge. If I don't know something, I'll tell you. Autism is still a vastly unknown neurological disorder. The only way we are going to gain knowledge is by talking about it and asking questions.

3. Unsolicited advice is never OK.
This one I think spans the bounds of all of parenthood, but still worth saying. Unless we ask for advice, don't give it. Each child with autism is different, and even if you do know somebody who knows somebody, who knows somebody with a child with autism, and this worked for them, it may not work for us. We may have already tried it.

Look, we all need support. Some need more than others. If you're faced with a friend or loved one who is encountering autism, show your support. I've always believed in the saying "It takes a village to raise a child." That is no less true of special needs children. Be that support, and I can promise you that you'll soon share in the joys of what overcoming autism hurdles can bring to a family, that kind of love can change us all.

The Princess Likes to Party

Hola, Lovelies! Today begins a new week, new challenges and successes. Hopefully your weeks are starting off well. The little royals are both still sleeping, so our week hasn't quite started yet. They'll be up soon enough, and it will be back to the grindstone. So now that I have a little bit of time, I thought I'd share how our weekend got started.

Friday night was like any other, both the Prince and the Princess were fighting bedtime. They've both become such night owls lately. We had been up and down a few times that evening, but by 1am all was quiet. It was time for the King and Queen to take leave to our chambers and get a nights rest in. OK really, the King was already snoring by this point, so I decided to join him. I slept pretty well, not a wake up all the way through. Or so I thought.

8 am Saturday morning rolled around and the house was quiet. I do my morning stretch, get up and head out of the bedroom to start the day. Not yet having coffee, or even opening my eyes for more than five minutes, I was not prepared for what I would stumble into. As I step out from my adjoining bathroom into my dining room, one of my cats starts meowing at me fiercely. This is normal for our day, it usually means she wants to be fed. That's when my eyes started processing what I was seeing.

Directly in front of me, our dining room and laundry room area was in shambles. Papers, my reading glasses, diapers and clothes scattered everywhere. To my left is our kitchen. My eyes scan that way. I'm in utter disbelief. Cupboards are open, the garbage is scattered on the floor: eggshells, coffee grounds, dirty diapers. The cat's food and water dishes are flipped upside down. Contents that were previously put away in the cupboards where scattered with the garbage. Complete and total chaos.

My first knee-jerk reaction was that it was cats. I was looking at the cat who was brave enough to show herself to me while I took in the sights. So sure that the only perpetrators to these vicious crimes of cleanliness was my two fur babies having HAD to run amok that night. As I'm starting to yell, "Stupid cats!"-- With a few more expletives thrown in there-- one other sight catches my eye.

The baby gate has been knocked over. As I make my way over to this latest development, I was cautious. When I get to the downed baby gate, I peek into the hallway to the left. There I spot a diaperless Princess sleeping on her bed. Two pieces of paper that were previously in the dining room were scattered around her. I put the baby gate back up and really make a closer inspection of the mess. Then I see it. The details that point to a Princess who had free reign of the house apparently while we slept. There's two of her favorite blocks on the floor, presumably in trade for something that she played with. There's the diaper in the middle of the mess which she decided to take off. Yep, our mastermind wasn't four legged. She was a three year old Princess.

As the mess was cleaned up, some thoughts came to mind. First, was what it must have been like for her when she decided to have a run with it. I imagine it was something like:
'I'm up! I'm bored. Where's Mommy and Daddy? Maybe if I kick at the gate a little. Hm, it fell down. Maybe if I check over here, no there not there. What about over here? Nope. Maybe if I do this, that will get them out. Sweet, I'm gonna play!'

Second, I'm so glad that the Princess doesn't have the instinct to put random things in her mouth. I imagine if it were the Prince, well I don't want to, because I know that he will have tasted most everything that he came into contact with. The thought makes me shudder.

Yet again one step behind the Princess, we installed some pieces to make the baby gate more secure to the wall so that there wont be anymore late night parties while we sleep. At least not until the teenage years. Until next time, Lovelies. Let us pray for no more late night parties.

Unprepared

Bonjur, Lovelies! I hope so far your week is going well! Lately, the Prince has been hitting a lot of milestones and becoming more mobile than he already was. He is as adventurous as a little boy can get, and already working on giving mommy a heart attack. I was sitting around with a couple of my friends the other day, one of them a mommy herself. We were discussing the concept of "Kids will be kids. Accidents happen." To which I explained that my best plan of action is to learn and adjust. Then she asked me one of the best questions I've heard.

"Don't you ever feel like you should already know this by now, since you already have a child?"

Great question. It didn't take me much more than a second to respond with, "Nope."

The look of shock at my honesty made me smile. But that wasn't my goal. It was my real answer. I am in completely new territory. Aside from the differences of boys vs. girls, where boys are naturally supposed to be more adventurous than girls-- Which I'm not sure I believe that stereotypical nonsense.-- I'm still on an extreme learning curve. While all children are different and develop differently, the difference between autism and typical development are vast. The Princess was so content to stay where ever she was, that she didn't even crawl until after her first birthday.

With that came a lack of wanting to put things in her mouth, a lack of exploration that would normally put her in a more dangerous situation. She didn't stand until close to her second birthday, climbed shortly after. The Princess wouldn't take her first steps until she was two and a half. Sure, this puts her in the mobile adventurous category, though differently. The things with her that have ultimately made me worry are still different than what the Prince does now to make me worry.

One day, she decided to take the computer chair for a 'spin'. She was doing great, round and round and round she goes... Until she lost her grip. I was just on the other side of the baby gate, and while everything was OK in the end, that computer chair was taken out of her 'zone' and has remained that way ever since.
The Prince of course, is very different. He makes me second guess myself regularly. He's become quite an adept climber, and enjoys climbing anything he can. His favorites include: the couch, the coffee table and the Princess' bed. He's climbed onto the couch, fallen off and then right back up again. That's of course when he's not eating. I'm told these are pretty common behaviors in boys. I can't completely attest to that, other than watching my friends and their growing boys. I'm sure I'll learn soon enough.

So there you have it, folks. No matter how hard I try to be prepared for whats to come, I know I will always be learning and adjusting as I go. That's just my normal.

Imitation

Hi Lovelies! They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. In my house, it's that and so much more. We use it as a way to deescalate a situation and we use it to help with speech therapy. Of course, we use it to be silly too.

My favorite use of imitation is to help with speech therapy. Seeing as how the Princess is non-verbal, and the Prince is learning to develop his speech, this is a crucial time that we really focus on getting the back and forth of conversation. Most would simply continue a conversation with their toddler, even if their toddler isn't actually saying any words. Eventually they will. It's a little different with autism.

With autism, things just seem to process differently. For example, with the Prince, we can show him how to do something, like stack rings on a toy. We might show him once or twice, he'll watch intently, then try. If he doesn't get it, he will within the next couple of hours-- to a day or two-- while he ponders how we were able to stack those rings, and he wasn't. He will come back to it, and just do. Epiphany, it works! The Princess on the other hand, is a different story.

We can sit her down with the same stacking rings toy. Attempt to show her the same way as a we had the Prince. She may gaze in our direction once or twice, or even stare. Her focus is the rings. She will then get up, grab two of the rings and run off. We've tried this with the same result many times. She'll get it eventually. Consider teaching the to and fro of conversation in the same light. With the Prince, we can continue to have a normal conversation with him as he's babbling back to us. Words will replace the babble. We have to wait for the Princess to initiate with us.

It usually starts with her saying "Bah!" and going from there. It tends to become a game to her, where she is constantly trying to throw us off our guard. "Gah!" or "Bah, gah!" come into play. This is where it starts for her. The smile on her face as she plays this game while simultaneously learning is enough for me to continue this mimicry until she grows bored with it.

I mentioned that we use this also to deescalate situations, but this really pertains more to the Prince than the Princess. You see, he craves back and forth interaction, whereas the Princess is perfectly content to sit and play seemingly oblivious to her little brother. He also hates diaper changes. Anytime that he is getting worked up into a fit, one of the ways that mostly-- not always-- works is to start mimicking his sounds. He cries "Ahhh!" I repeat it back to him in a slightly melodic voice. We then start this back and forth until he is smiling, memories of upsets long forgotten.

So you see, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. In the right hands, it can be a most useful tool. It's a favorite of mine, and until the day it becomes ineffective, I will continue to wield it.

"Your Princess Falls on the Spectrum."

Hello, Lovelies! Today, I wanted to do a bit of a follow up piece to the "Not MY Child" post.-- If you haven't read already, you can read here.-- seeing as how that was simply when the word "autism" entered our world. It hasn't left since, but there were steps that lead us to this point. If you are a parent of a child with autism, you're probably going to be at least remotely familiar with the process, though each of ours is different.

As I was leaving the appointment that fateful day, the doctor told me that she'd be setting up a referral to Early Intervention. What they would  do is evaluate the Princess and we'd go from there. I had absolutely no idea what to expect. I agreed, and then went home and proceeded to have my breakdown. A few weeks had passed before I heard anything at all about the appointment, and we were in the process of moving to a different town. When I told the lady on the other end of the line, she told me the best thing to do is wait until we know for sure when and where we are moving to, as we may be in a different county and therefore a different office would be taking over.

OK, time consuming, but at least I was able to ignore the greater problem for a bit. I'd been in a cocoon of denial anyways for the time being, so what was a couple more weeks? Finally, we found a place to move into, and were on our way. Which left me with the next step of contacting the Early Intervention people, and figuring out where to go from there. We had indeed moved to a new county, and had to go through the new office. They told me that they'd be passing the referral on to the new office, and I should get in contact with them in a few days. So far, all it had been was a whole lot of phone tag. Great fun!

Once I did get a hold of the new office, we set up the appointments. The previous office we had gone to had appointments within weeks. This new office had an appointment in three months. Longer wait, but feeding my now living, breathing butterfly of denial wasn't so bad. The three months passed by way to quickly regardless.

First, we started with an office visit. They tested her hearing, which was a totally new experience for me, since I had never gone through this process. The Princess in my lap in a booth with various toys and noises going on around us. All the while they're noting if she looks or responds in the direction to. She didn't always, so they put little ear buds in her ears and told me her ears where working properly. Maybe she was just distracted. Then we moved to a room where for about an hour and a half or so, we watched the Princess play. They asked me questions, they tried to get her to respond. They left the room to tally the score.

"She qualifies for early intervention," they told me, "but we're not autism specialists, so we can't say to that. We do recommend an autism screening." We signed up for it. So far all this means is that my Princess is very delayed, but we don't know much more. Yet.

The autism screening was even more different than the early intervention. They come to your home. I was so not prepared for that. Now it means on top of everything else, I have to make sure to keep my house clean? To my standards of clean for company, you'd barely know there are children living here. Alas, we must move forward, there is no going back. Over the next couple of months, we had various people come into our home, from special education teachers, to autism specialists, speech therapists, occupational therapists, the works.

In each, we'd sit in my living room while the Princess ran from her room out to the living room. And back again. They would ask me the same questions that I'd already been asked a dozen times before. Making notes. Always making notes. While I hated this process, I was more than happy to be doing what was best for the Princess.

After what seemed like forever in this process, it was time for the fateful meeting. Everybody was there, each and every one that had come and gone through my front door to observe and evaluate my beautiful little Princess. Now they were all sitting in my living room. Each with their notes, each with their opinions. One by one, they told me where they saw her delays and her successes. With each one, I look and nod and smile. All the while wondering, 'Yes, I know this. But what does it MEAN?'

Finally it was the autism specialists turn to talk. I focus in on her, looking for either my damnation or salvation. Whichever it chose to be. And then I heard it:

"Your Princess falls on the spectrum." I think my world went a little blank at that moment. The end of that meeting really is a blur. I think we spoke about some assistance's. We spoke about what this would mean for the Princess, and for us. We were now her autism team. Her support, and we would all be fighting for and with her.

That was around a year or so ago. Since then, I wouldn't say she's a whole new child. An improved version, yes. We are making progress, very slow, but it's still progress. I know that we made the right choice for her. I also know most of all, that I am blessed to know this beautiful girl, and for her to allow me to be in her world.

Grateful

Welcome back, Lovelies! I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend! I have had a weekend of reflection, myself. I've been thinking about all of the ups and downs, the back and forth. Being the parent of a child with autism can be one of the most stressful things any mother has ever gone through. You know what? While I wouldn't wish a child with autism to any parent in the world, let alone that any child be diagnosed with it; I'm actually grateful for my Princess with autism.

I know it sounds strange, but there is a reason for this. Yes, autism has become the X-Factor in our household. We wont know how a day is going to go until we hear from Senor Autism. But the fact is, I'm growing weary about seeing some of the fear producing tactics used to justify something is unsafe. Vaccines for instance-- No, this is not a debate. It is only an example.-- have been a culprit for years about the dangers of vaccinating leading to autism. The way it sounds is as if it's the worst thing in the world to have your child diagnosed with autism. I'm here to tell you it isn't always pleasant, but it certainly isn't the worst thing in the world.

You see, with the Princess, you can take any and all affection at face value. If she hugs you, she means to hug you and give you all the love she can give. Her smiles are so genuine you can't help but smile back, because she's truly happy. Her laughter is equally as infectious. When she's upset, sure, the varying levels of what might be wrong can be up for interpretation. The point is that she isn't pretending. Something is very wrong to her.

The other great thing about having the diagnosis for autism is that suddenly, you are not alone. Teaching, training and guiding, all of it you have help with. Since her diagnosis, the Princess has been in specialized preschool. She has teachers who know and love her and will fight for her. She has occupational therapists and speech therapists to help. Yes, I am a stay at home mom which means the child rearing stuff, that's on me. For everything else, I have help. It's wonderful.

I know now, because of her diagnosis that her delays were not something that I was doing wrong. This knowledge and acceptance has benefited me the most. I spent my days leading up to her diagnosis wondering at each and everything what I was doing that wasn't allowing her to hit those basic milestones. Now, I understand that it wasn't me, it was her autism holding her back. Knowing this, I will help her move forward through the murk that is her autism, I will be by her side all the way.

The absolute best part for me? Probably when we went on an outing to a park with many others with children of varying ages. In that park was a gentleman wearing a speedo. Not sure why at the park and not a beach, but to each their own. Every other child there the Princess' age and up-- To a certain point, of course.-- turned to their parents and asked why. Not mine. While all of the other parents there had to come up with answers and explanations for their little ones, my little royals were blissfully ignorant. I was grateful.

Don't get me wrong, if I could turn back time and somehow fix the Princess' autism, I would. In a second. I can't. I can't change what is, I can only accept and move forward. I need to teach my children how to do exactly that, and I will lead by example. These are life lessons I think we can all stand to learn. Even in the darkness of your worst fear coming to life-- In any form, for me it was my child being diagnosed for autism. For you it could be something entirely different.-- if you find something to be grateful for, you have all the light you need to get through it.

Actions Speak Louder

TGIF to all of my Lovelies out there! I hope those that are working aren't working too hard, and to those who get the day off, enjoy! If you're a stay at home mom like me, you're probably just hoping that this gateway day to the weekend goes so easily that it's like it's our weekend already. For me, the Royals are still sleeping-- Apparently, they wanted to sleep in today, I am not going to argue!-- So I'm doing what I can to entertain my time. I don't want to clean after all.

I know by now you all know that the Princess is non-verbal. This is part of who she is right now, and that's just all there is to it. It wont last forever, but for right now, it is a part of our existence. While there are definitely some things I wish she could say, like "Hey, Mommy! I pooped!" That would be a good one. Or maybe, "I love you, Mommy." That would be a GREAT one. It's funny, but you'd think that if she were non-verbal, we'd still be in that phase where Mom and Dad are trying to gauge the pitch of cry to what need. In reality, if you open your eyes too, you'd realize her actions speak far louder than words.

There are some actions that I still don't have answers for. For instance, why she takes off her diaper as frequently as she does, astounds me. If her diaper were always soiled when she did it, I'd say there's your answer. But we will sometimes take off diapers within mere minutes of putting a new one on. For the most part, though, we are starting to interpret most actions. If she stands just outside her bedroom door, she needs something. What that something is, well, your guess can be as good as mine. If she runs up to you, and looks you in the eye, throwing both hands in the air, this could mean one of two things. Either she wants a hug, or wants to be picked up. The only giveaway there is if you do one and she wanted the other. Watch your eardrums, Lovelies. She's gonna blow. Then, there are these beautiful actions that are so incredibly self explanatory, that you'd be crazy to miss.

Picture it: The Princess is standing in the hallway. She's got a toy in each hand. You pick her up and over the baby gate, set her back down and say "Go to your chair." And she's off! You watch as she runs through the kitchen, into the dining room, straight to her chair. Can you guess what this means? I'll give you a hint: She's hungry. As you round the corner with 2 jars of baby food in hand-- Because who could eat just one??-- She giggles and smiles telling you that you've gotten it right.

In those moments are my triumphs. At that moment, I've figured it out. I've taken the impossible and turned it into the possible! In my chaotic world, I often feel like I just fall short. I feel like I'm always two steps behind. That the moment I feel like I've got things figured out, it all comes crashing down around me, and I've got to pick up the pieces again. But then there's these triumphant moments that tell me if I keep plugging along, if I keep picking up the pieces, there will be fewer to pick up next time. And maybe, just maybe, at some point way way far in the future, there wont be any more pieces to pick up.

Free Hugs

Good day, Lovelies! You know those moments in life where everything just seems to be crumbling and the only thing that you know you need to make it all better is a hug? It's the simplest form of human contact and comfort. We crave that closeness, that comfort to the point where the second we get it, all troubles seem to melt away. The Princess has these moments too, they just seem fewer and further between.

We recently went to the King's company picnic. As you know, this requires a lot of planning and preparation. For myself, this also requires sleep. So when 4:30am came around and the Princess was crying and needed to be taken care of, I knew that all I wanted to do was get her settled and get back to bed. Things were going as planned. She had a very wet diaper, so I changed her and got her a new movie. When I went to change her outfit to a dry, warm outfit, I had the most unexpectedly beautiful moment.

As I stood the Princess up to finish zipping up her outfit, suddenly she wrapped her arms and legs around me in the biggest, tightest hug. In that moment, my mind released any inkling of going back to sleep. Instead, I embraced this moment as I hugged her back. I so rarely get these moments to be 'Mom' that I couldn't let go. We sat there for what seemed like 30 minutes-- Really, it could have been an instant, and it would have felt like an eternity.-- until I felt her muscles relax and she slowly let go. From there, I got her a cup of milk and she fell back to sleep. It was too late for me, so I sat on the couch dozing.

Later that day, as we were about to leave, I was working towards getting the Princess into the car, when she did it again. I felt her latch on so tight that a crowbar wouldn't pry her off. She wasn't ready to get into the car yet, she needed her comfort. Again, I lost myself into the moment and hugged her back as tightly as I dared until I felt her release and we got into the car without further incident. The car ride to the picnic, I was in my own little bubble of a utopia from all the hugs I was giving and receiving from my Princess that it didn't fully matter that she was having a fit in the back seat.

When we got to the picnic, things went pretty smoothly. The Princess set to running back and forth at her usual pace. At one point, she really wanted to be held and if she wasn't being held by one of us, she had decided she would get someone to hold her. So she set out, running up to complete strangers to her throwing up her arms in a way that the King and I know means "Hey, they're not carrying me, pick me up!" Instead of picking her up, she received hugs. Many hugs, from just about everyone she encountered. Only once was she successful in getting a random person to pick her up.-- Don't worry, we were with her the entire way.

As we were leaving, and I was about to put her in the car again, she latched on. This time, it didn't last as long before she was ready. On our way home, I reflected on the events in the day thus far. I was wrapped in the warmth of my bubble of hugs and love that I got from the Princess that day. Watching her socialize and get hugs from others was just icing on the cake! Even as she was throwing a bit of a tantrum in the back seat-- She must not like car rides today.-- I was in my own little happy world.

I think she's realized that she can get me to stop pretty much whatever I'm doing by hugging me. She now gives me big hugs whenever I'm trying to lay her down, or put her in her room. While it doesn't change the end result of what I am doing, I am more than happy to stop for a time and welcome her into our own little bubble of free hugs.

Same World, Different Dimensions

Bonjur, Lovelies! In my limited free time, I tend to watch videos online. Mostly things that entertain me, make me think or just give me a laugh. I also watch different videos on autism, people with autism and signs of autism. A lot of them give me hope, they really empower me to empower the Princess. Sometimes they make me cry.

There's one girl whom I follow with autism, who is non verbal but has found a way to get her voice out into the world. She uses her computer to type out her thoughts, and you'd be amazed at what this girl has to say. This lets me know that regardless of if the Princess can yet verbalize to me her emotions, her wants or needs, that they're in there. I really do try to bring myself to the Princess' world as much as I possibly can. Until recently, I thought I was doing a pretty OK job. Turns out, I think I was wrong.

The video that I watched was entitled "Carly's Cafe" and in it, you are Carly-- The girl whom I was speaking about earlier-- sitting with your sister and father in a cafe. You want a coffee, but can't seem to express that very basic want. In turn, you get hot chocolate. The video gets chaotic as your senses go haywire. By the end of this video, I was sobbing. It was my proof that I was not doing a good job of trying to get myself into the Princess' world.-- If you'd like to watch the video, you can do so here.-- That no matter how hard I tried, I just wasn't getting it.

Let me give you an example of where I think I go wrong:

The Princess is hungry. She looks to me as she tries to convey this very message. This is how I imagine it goes if we were looking at it from her perspective.

Princess: "I'm Hungry, Mommy."

Me: "What's going on? Do you need a new diaper?"-- Proceed to change diaper.

P: "No, Mommy. I'm hungry."

M: "Hm, well that didn't work. A new movie then."-- Changes movie.

P: "Well thank you, but really Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we eat now?"

M: "Would you like a cup of milk? OK, I'll get you one."

P: "Great thanks, Mommy. At least you're trying."-- Drinks milk, but moments later is finished.

P: "OK, I'm really hungry."

M: "Are you hungry? Let's get you something to eat."

P: "Finally."

How it really came out-- don't worry, I wont go as long this time:

P: *Smile, giggle*

M: "Do you need a new diaper?"

P: *Smile, giggle* a few seconds later, *Scream, kick*

M: "New movie?"

P: *Scream, kick* *Smile, giggle* *Scream, kick*

You get the point. The point is, I try. I do my very best, but still it isn't enough. I wish I could figure out instantaneously what the Princess needs. I'm no mind reader. I can only do my best to interpret each sound, cry or smile. I'm not perfect. I have plenty of room for improvement. I will continue to do my best, to learn more, to improve.

Really, we're not in two different worlds, as I had originally imagined it to be. We're both living in the same world, just different dimensions. We just need to figure out a way to bridge the gap. Together we can. I know I'm trying and I'm sure the Princess is too. We'll just find our middle ground eventually.

Blinders

Lovelies, welcome! I hope that all is well in your prospective worlds. Things are the usual chaotic, stressful bliss around here. When I do get moments to myself, I usually find myself meandering around on the Internet. Reading one article or another. Indulging in my mindless sense of humor, figuring out the latest crafting fad I'd like to try and ever since we received the diagnosis of autism, I devour anything I can learn on the topic. I've found things that I've considered intriguing, and things that I've determined are heart wrenching. I've discovered more about myself, and more about the Princess' world. I've also discovered that there was a period of time that I had blinders on.

Let me explain. The other day, I found a video on the early signs of autism. In it, there were what I can only describe as early intervention meetings, and there were several children in the 14-18 month range. It showed both the children who showed signs of autism, and children who didn't.-- You can find the video here.-- I was floored. I knew when I had started this whole process that the Princess was delayed in many ways, but it never occurred to me that some other behaviors and movements where key signs to the bigger issue.

For instance, hand flapping was absolutely something she'd do. Did I admit, or even seem to notice it? No. If I did, I have to admit that I probably passed it off as she's being silly, or "Kids do the darnedest things." Makes sense if you think about it, but looking back at it, I wonder if I just missed it.  I wonder if some part of me just didn't WANT to see it. I didn't want to see that my daughter could have something-- for lack of a better word for it-- wrong with her. As she got older and less social and imaginative with her play, I figured it was because she simply didn't have many peers around her.

With each new sign, I had an new reason, a new excuse. She's not walking because she's so tall and grew so fast, that it must be awkward. She's not feeding herself because we do it for her, so why bother? She's not talking because we don't give her the opportunity to use her own words. She doesn't pretend play a lot because maybe we're not getting down to her level enough and playing with her. You see where all of this goes, right? We blame ourselves, we blame lack of opportunities, lack of siblings/friends. We stress ourselves out, pull our hair out to figure out what are we doing wrong?

The thing is, we're not doing anything wrong. We have blinders on. Not because we don't love our children. Not because we don't want whats best for them. Quite the contrary, actually. It's because we love them SO MUCH. We are willing to place blame on anything, anything at all if it means that she doesn't have to deal with and overcome so much for the rest of her life. I have honestly thought to myself that if I could just switch places with her, if it could be ME instead of the Princess; just so she could have as much of a normal, easy-going life as possible, I'd do it in a heart beat. I mean it, too. This is how much I love my little girl. I'd trade places with her in a second so that she didn't have to live with a body that  betrays her on a daily basis.

My blinders are off. I see the Princess for who she is. The beautiful little girl who graced me with her presence 3.5 years ago, the brightest little girl I have ever known. With a smile so infectious that I cannot fathom going a single day without seeing it. Since I can't trade places with her, I will do my absolute best to help her in any way I can, to show her that she is and always will be loved. That I will fight for and with her. Always.

The Great Diaper Rebellion

Good morning, Lovelies! Happy Friday! I do sincerely apologize that it's been a while since I've updated. It's been both because I've had a severe case of writer's block and because the Royals have been keeping me incredibly busy. In fact, I've actually been trying to figure out a topic for a couple of days now. Here's a bit about my process.

Let's take yesterday, for example. Yesterday, I was seriously sitting down and thinking what to write about. As I considered my options, equally rejecting them as they came to mind, I started to think about my chore list for the day. "Hm, the kitchen floor really needs cleaning. Maybe I'll do that." Before I could start that task, of course, I have to throw a load of laundry in. Somewhere between sweeping and mopping, the Princess is running around alternating in giggles and cries. I get her a a sippy cup of milk, change her movie and her diaper. As I return to work, out of the corner of my eye, a flash streaks by in the hallway.

Oh dear, the Princess has taken off her diaper. Again. I grab her a new diaper and pants, and continue to my task. I've just finished sweeping the kitchen floor, as the Princess has alternately watched me, her movie and back to me. At this point, the Prince-- Ever the dead to the world sleeper-- is still sleeping in. I fill the sink with what is to become my mop water, and again from the corner of my eye, I see a giggling flash run by. Again? Yep, she's taken off the pants and the diaper. Yet again, I get a new diaper on  her, this time throwing a pair of training undies on over the diaper and then the pants. That should stop it for a while, right?

I sit back down, trying yet again to think of a good post for this blog. The topics fly through my head and get turned down just as quickly. Oh wait, the living room could use a vacuum. OK, that's my next task. What's that I hear? Oh, it's the Prince. He's awake. So I change his diaper and get him his morning bottle. Turn around, and look at that! The Princess has done it again! I don't think I need to tell you how wasteful it is to go through three diapers within a 30 min to 1 hour time frame. But it is. I digress.

After I've gotten her yet another diaper-- This time putting pants on her, as clearly the extra layer did nothing. -- I set out to my task of vacuuming. The Prince is not completely OK with the noise of the vacuum cleaner, and I'd love to know what he thinks this thing is. Some crazy dragon that's growling and wants to get him? I'm not sure, but it's clear from the look on his face-- I can't hear him over the vacuum-- that he is truly unhappy and he's created some sort of scenario where the vacuum is the monster, I'm sure. When the task is done, I have to assure him that everything is OK, and this really only takes a few minutes. He's a Mama's boy after all; so clearly I'm the all powerful, magical Momma in his world and if I say that every thing's alright, he believes me.

It's quiet in the Princess' room, so I walk in to make sure everything is OK there. I step on a blanket. It's wet. And it smells. The Princess is naked-- Really? I mean, how hard is it to keep a diaper on???-- time for a new diaper. Now laundry. I pull all blankets and sheets from the Princess' room, trying desperately to hold my breath as to not smell the fowl odor coming from this pile. Really, I'm trying not even think about WHY they smell.

That's how I spent the rest of my day, really. Doing laundry. I wouldn't have a problem with her going diaperless if she had better control of her bladder/bowels. She doesn't, so I've only found one solution that works to keep the diaper on, and that's to butcher her footie pajamas into a muscle top-footless style of pajama. The zipper keeps it all in, she hasn't figured those out yet. It's summer, however, so I do try not to use this option as much as possible. It's too warm! But alas, I'm thinking my water bill will go up way too exponentially at the rate I'm doing laundry.

Begrudgingly, I put her in these pajamas and it keeps the diaper on. I've now vowed that until the Princess is either potty trained, or she learns to be OK with wearing her diaper, that this is my solution. So I will keep these outfits on her and save myself the laundry. I already have enough of that to do, we are a family of four, after all!

Home Bound

Hola Lovelies! It's July! Summer is in full swing, the temperatures are rising. You can feel the energy levels rise, as we all see more sun.  Every body's got their plans for activities to do to "beat the heat". Except me. You see, we're usually pretty home bound. It's rather tough to get out of the house with one child, let alone two. Add to that, an autistic princess.

You see, the normal things that people do as families, we don't. The King and I have always been more prone to the comfortable night home, in our comfy clothes. All we needed was a good show or movie to watch, and we were set. Little did we realize that it was all in preparation for what's to come. Grocery shopping is almost always done by the King. He's the one who's out with the car at work, so this is just much easier. We don't go to restaurants much because of the fact that the Princess doesn't feed herself, or eat table food, so there's really little point. Quite frankly, because I'm home with the beauties, I'm worn out by the King's days off that I really have no desire at that point to do much of anything. But there's more to it than that. Outings are never a single person job in this household. You always need back-up and an extra hand with the preparations.

The average outing for us require a lot of planning. Planning what outfits the little royals are going to wear, what shoes, which toys to bring, etc. We end up adding a couple of other plans to our array. First, we plan on how things will time out with nap time, as the Prince is still in that stage. The Princess, on the other hand, usually forgoes naps. We plan on when to leave, and what's our latest time we're comfortable with leaving. We usually plan on arriving late. Not because we want to be trendy, or whatever, but because there are many variables that may set us back. We can never guarantee what mood the Princess will be in on any given day. The final two preparations that we set out are the plan of whom to call and what to say to them should we need to back out last minute. That usually consists of "It's just not a great day for the kids." The toughest plan for me is the exit strategy.

The thing is, any and all trips out of the house usually end abruptly. By the princess having a meltdown. Honestly though, the outing was most likely so eventful, that I almost don't mind the quick departure. Let me give you an example of a most recent outing that we experienced.

It was my mother in law's birthday party; and since we don't get to see all of the family much, we had set out to go no matter what. Since it was at a restaurant, we figured the Prince could eat with us. We made sure to feed the Princess before we left to avoid having to bust out a jar of baby food and spoon feed our three year old daughter. Of course, we did pack extra jars just in case. The Princess was in fine form for the car ride down, save for the last 10 minutes, where she screamed bloody murder. Once we got there, we discovered that the birthday party had reserved a room to itself, so that was a bonus for us! The Princess was excited to run back and forth... Back and forth... Over, and over again. Actually, I don't think she really stopped the entire time. The Prince was a little dazed by the sudden outing, as he isn't used to leaving the house, but seemed amiable enough.

About five or ten minutes into being there, the Prince decided he wasn't happy. The King and I took turns either keeping up with the Princess, or walking and trying to soothe the Prince. Finally, we discover crackers, and this keeps the Prince very happy the rest of the outing. The Princess was still getting her energizer bunny on, running back and forth. At some point, orders were being taken-- And I came to the realization that I hadn't even looked at the menu yet!-- I over hear the King ordering, and tell the waitress I'll have the same, with a few minor alterations to my liking. This is of course the one moment that I had the Princess in a seated position on my lap, and the waitress looks to her for a moment. It dawns on me that she is wondering what the Princess might like to eat.

"Oh," I reply to her unspoken question, "She only eats baby food, so she's covered." I'm met with a shocked look and two words "OK, then." She then looks to the Prince with the same unspoken question, and I just let her know that he'll eat off of our plates and if we could get a spare plate that would be great. I never got that extra plate. Oh well.

The food takes a long while to start to arrive; the Prince is still happily munching on crackers, and the Princess is still running back and forth. I see a few family members attempt to keep up with her, but the truth is, she's hard to keep up with. So the King and I continue to switch between royals, mostly because one is sitting, and that's just a little nicer. The Princess needs a diaper change, so the King directs me to the bathroom that has a changing table, upstairs. Funny thing that I should have thought about ahead of time was that the Princess is too big to fit on a changing table, so we changed her diaper with her standing in the middle of the bathroom floor. As I'm coming back down stairs, I realize our food has arrived. The King and Prince are happily eating. Alas, I have the Princess who has resumed her exercise regime.

After the King has completed his meal, he takes over the Princess duty. I sit down and scarf about half of my cheeseburger-- That's what I get for ordering the same as the King.-- all while trying to keep the mess the Prince is making to a minimum, when suddenly the Princess goes into full meltdown mode. The King-- ever diligent to make sure not to disturb other diners-- whisks her out of the room quickly. I assume things are good for a bit, until a few minutes later I receive the text that we need to go, the Princess is just not having any more of this outing.

Thus, my dilemma. Why we are home bound. It's just so much easier to stay home and try to keep the children entertained, than face the big crazy world out there, where we'd only be gone for a few hours at most anyway. I suppose it's not such a bad life. I do enjoy my surroundings, and clearly we were homebodies anyway before we had children. So I will embrace this life. I will enjoy my homebound-ness with a smile on my face. I will go out only when the occasion occurs. I will bask in the glory of the smiles on my children's faces... Until the next meltdown happens, then will somebody please get me out of here??

Just kidding.