The last day of summer

School starts tomorrow, and I must say it's not a moment too soon.  I don't like summer.  I never have, and I don't think I ever will.  These last few weeks of summer with Janey have felt brutal.

I of course feel right away I must modify that.  There have certainly been worse times with Janey, many times, times when she was a lot more unhappy or manic or angry.  But in terms of sheer endlessness, these few weeks have few equals.

I have been taking the advice of a lot of my friends I've met here, and I thank them for it.  I've been trying to be easier on myself in terms of what gets us through the day.  TV is what gets us through a lot of days, and I realized lately I have a tremendous amount of guilt about that.  TV equals bad parenting, in my mind.  But in some ways, that is a selfish view, because for Janey, TV equals happiness, often.  She adores her shows.  Her default position in the house is in front of the TV, standing up and dancing and jumping.  She has strong opinions about shows, and even episodes of shows.  It's not random watching.  She'll get an idea she wants to see some certain episode, and she uses every bit of her available communication tools to let me know which one---a combination of phrases, pointing, and sometimes screaming.  I am pretty sure she knows all the dialogue of her favorite episodes of shows by heart.  She knows when the scary parts are coming up---she'll start screaming in advance (and by scary parts I mean often very, very mild scary, about as scary as Kipper or Angelina the Ballerina or the like gets).  She interacts with the shows, more than with people.  So---I am trying to relax and accept that.  But I'll admit it.  I feel like a bad mother when the day is mostly TV, often.

I think what most frustrates me is how hard it is to go anyplace outside the house with Janey.  It's partly that I get cabin fever, although I have a large tolerance for going no-place, but I do have my limits.  I want to get out of the house, but with Janey, it's so hard.  It's a tough thing to admit to myself that it just really isn't safe for me to take her most places on my own.  It might be fine for 95% of the time, but the 5%, when she gets upset and starts to freak out, and screams and bites her arms and sometimes, once in a while, lashes out at me or at possibly even someone else---that is not a good scene.  Taking Janey places is a two or more person job.  If there is backup, it can be great.  I'm thinking about our trip to Ohio, or the wedding, or visiting Maryellen.  If there's two people around or more, we've had some very successful outings.  But these weeks, it's been just me, and that's tough.  Again, I'll admit that makes me feel guilty.  I have an overactive inner voice, one that says "You are just lazy.  You aren't trying hard enough.  You just want to stay home and sit around"  I think it's time I told that inner voice to shut up and look at the facts.

We do one trip every day---the short walk to the "ice cream store", the convenience store near us.  I've been remembering the wise words of many of you, and realizing that to Janey, this is a special thing, a routine she loves, even if it might not seem like one to me.  She loves all the steps---getting shoes on, me talking about what I need to do before the walk, the short walk to the store, during which she only needs to hold my hand a little, the time in the store, making the choice from the rows of chips or the freezers of ice cream, going to the counter, getting attention from the cashiers (they seem to be an extended family from Bangladesh, and they are very sweet to Janey) my prompting her to say "thank you" or "goodbye", the walk home, the time in the back yard eating her treat---when I think about it, it's a lot of social skills and self-help skills tied up in a short time.

So, when I think about it, these weeks have probably been harder on me than Janey.  I think Janey is okay.  It's me that is stir crazy and sick of kids' TV and wanting to be able to go into another room without fearing toileting accidents or food thrown all over.  That is why I think of the first day of school as Mother's Christmas---forgive me the sacrilege.  I talked to Janey's teacher for the year yesterday.  It's her first man teacher, and the same teacher she had over the summer, the husband of the ABA supervisor who has been one of the most wonderful people I've worked with in the schools over the years, and he seems like a wonderful teacher.  I am looking forward to Janey's 6th grade.  I think she is too, as much as she looks forward to things.  So I say goodbye to the summer of '16.  I won't say good riddance, but I will say I'm ready for that goodbye.

Fourth of July

 Happy 4th of July from Toledo, OH!  It's been a wonderful vacation so far.  The best part, of course, has been getting to meet my friend Michelle and her family in person.  Michelle was the first friend I made through this blog, and her support, advice and friendship over the years has meant more to me than I can say.
 
Lindsey is Michelle's 16 year old daughter, a girl who is much like Janey.  What a remarkable and cool person she is!  She is non-verbal, but that certainly doesn't mean she can't communicate!  I think she said more to me in the first 10 minutes I was with her than many people do in a year.  Her facial expressions and postures and attitude are astonishingly able to say what she wants to say.  One of the coolest things was watching her watch Janey have  a meltdown.  She said with her face "I love this!  Janey is giving them hell!  And it's not me---I'm just getting to sit back and watch!  Go, Janey!"

It's been terrific meeting Michelle's husband, too.  Fathers of our girls are the unsung heroes, and Dan is one of them.  Like Tony, he is fully there for his family, and Janey has taken to him instantly.  And Leah and Jacob, Lindsey's siblings, are amazing kids in their own right. 

And Michelle!  I think we could talk forever and never run out of things to say.  She has lived my life and I hers.  The cool thing for me is she's a little ahead of me in the journey, as Lindsey is older.  When she told me that it would get easier with Janey, I knew she really knew.  She gets the meltdowns and the isolation and the frustrations but more than anything, the love we have for our girls---the overwhelming love.

How has Janey been doing?  Pretty well, overall.  There have been meltdowns and arm biting here and there, and when she's gotten restless there have been a lot of walks and car rides, but she has spent a lot of time at Michelle's house, enjoying their hospitality, and we had a great swim this morning, lots of iPad hotel time, and a lot of doing things we do at home, in different surroundings.  It's making Tony and me feel hopeful that when he retires and we can travel even more, Janey will be up for it.

Today we are going to the Toledo Zoo.  One of our dreams for Tony's retirement is traveling around to some of the top zoos in the country, and Toledo's is one of them, so we are very excited!

 Toledo is great!  The weather has been so lovely, dry and warm but not hot.  The big Ohio skies and farms and friendliness make me proud to be an Ohio native, although Maine of course will always be the home of my heart!

I'll write more about the trip soon---I don't like writing on a laptop, so I'll keep this fairly short.  I hope everyone has a wonderful 4th!

The Christmas and Beyond Report

We're in that strange week, the one between Christmas and New Years.  Tony has the week off---he usually takes this week off, and the boys are both home, and it feels like an in-between time, a neither here nor there time.  That isn't always easy for Janey or kids like her.  So, how it is going?

Attempting to interest Janey in a present.  The cat is about as interested as she is.

Not badly, really.  Compared to other years, it's going quite well.  Christmas itself was a nice day.  It was nice in that Janey didn't cry, didn't melt down, didn't have any fits.  She also didn't really participate in anything Christmasy, but we can handle that.  She wouldn't take things out of her stocking, wouldn't open the few presents we had for her, and wasn't interested in them once we opened them.  I think we were all okay with that, though.  The boys liked their presents and we all had a good day.  I wish it was more of a special day for Janey, but that's not a huge deal.

This week, Janey is also doing fairly well.  She's going for many, many rides in the car, her preferred form of entertainment, and she's doing a lot of cruising YouTube Kids.  She's been somewhat tired out, and has been napping some, which is not her usual routine.  Overall, she's been mellow, and somewhat withdrawn.  Her talking has been at a low point for a while now, and that isn't changing.  She isn't saying much beyond the routine phrases asking for a car ride, soup (boiled kale) or salami, or help putting on a particular TV show.

I wonder sometimes if we are settling into the next phase of life with Janey.  It's a lot easier in many ways than it used to be.  The worst of Janey's rage and intensity seem to be gone for now.  However, along with that, she seems slowed down.  She isn't learning new things, or saying new things, or making leaps forward.  Progress with Janey was always slow, and often ebbed and flowed, but this feels different.

Janey with her brothers and our friend at our annual Christmas get-together

Maybe I need to think about this differently.  We can do a bit more with Janey now than we used to be able to, and this could be an opportunity for her to experience new things.  For example, our traditional Christmas Eve at our friend's house was cancelled due to their illness, so we went instead on Sunday afternoon.  Usually, Janey falls asleep early in the evening, but since this was afternoon, she was awake the whole time we were there, for about four hours.  At times, it would have been inconceivable to think of spending that long someplace other than home as a family, but although we did need to take Janey for a little car ride and a few walks, she handled being there all that time without meltdowns or screaming.

Things could change on a dime.  Janey could go back to the tougher times, or stay calmer but get more responsive and talkative.  For now, though, I've been thinking a lot about times people told me it would get easier.  I doubted they were right.  I didn't think it ever would.  But for now, it has, and I hope I can say to others that might be having very hard times right now---it truly does get easier.  I can say that from the perspective of someone who knows absolutely how tough the tough times can be.  Hold on.  Hang in there.

Christmas, not so much presents!

I recently asked if people on the Facebook group that is a companion to this blog wanted to talk about their girls at Christmastime (if they celebrated Christmas), and many did---thank you to all of you!  (and if you are reading this and have a girl with autism in your life, and you aren't already in the group, I'd love to have you join---it's a friendly and welcoming place!)

A few things stood out about our girls and Christmas.  One is that it's not about the presents, for the most part.  Another is that it can be an overwhelming time.  But with those things kept in mind, most of the girls and their families did find a way to enjoy Christmas and make it a special time.

The part about the gifts was striking to me, in that most of the girls were like Janey---not big fans of gifts.  Of course, there are exceptions, but for the most part, gifts were one of the toughest parts of the season.  In a way, that might sound like every parent's dream.  We hear over and over that Christmas isn't supposed to be about getting presents, and of course it isn't, but presents are a big part of it, and to have a child that no only doesn't much want any presents but can even be actively upset by them is hard.

There were some great ideas people have.  One person talked about making the Christmas stocking full of small unopened toys, instead of having presents under the tree that had to be opened.  Another idea was having one box with all the presents in it, to reduce opening.  A great idea was giving a little present each Sunday of Advent, to practice.  An important thing is finding presents our girls actual like---like sensory toys or food.

I've always struggled with presents for Janey.  Part of it for me is a feeling of equality.  I don't want to just give her brothers presents and not her (although, to be honest, Janey would not notice or care).  And I ENJOY getting toys and gifts for Janey.  But she hates opening presents.  She doesn't get it, and it is not fun for her.  This year, there was a wonderful moment when I asked her what she wanted for Christmas and she actually answered "a book", so of course there will be a pile of books for her under the tree, but I won't wrap them.  I will give her one wrapped present---a tabletop drum set.  And her stocking will have a lot of chocolate in it (yes, I know I've said in the past chocolate makes her crazy and insomniatic, but she loves it, and I want her to get something she loves)  I won't try to make her watch her brothers open things, and I won't be upset if she shows no reaction to anything she gets.  That's the plan, anyway.

I think one of the most stressful parts of Christmas for us as autism parents is that our kids often have a hard time sharing Christmas with extended family and with friends.  We can control things to some extent at home, but it's hard when visiting others.  And it's hard sometimes for grandparents and other relatives, too.  They want to share Christmas, to give presents, and it seems to go against what is expected that the very sharing and hospitality and presents can be a source of stress.  A lot of families just don't make visits, or if they do, it's to one place each year.  We go every Christmas Eve to a dear friend's house.  Janey knows the family well, and I think knows that is the plan.  She is an early to bed kid, and so we have a lot of the night after she falls asleep for the our two families to have time together, but while she's awake, they know her and make sure there's food she likes and routines she understands for her to enjoy.  That means a great deal to me.

What do our girls like about Christmas?  A lot of girls like the tree and the decorations.  Traditions also seem to fit naturally with autism!  They are routines, after all.  And for Janey, and some other girls, the best part of Christmas is the music.  Starting at the beginning of November, I switch my iPod to an all Christmas list.  I know a lot of people hate Christmas music too early, but for Janey, that's a compromise---she'd listen all year, and at least keeping it to two months makes it a little more special!  I sing carols to her every night at Christmastime as she goes to sleep.  She seems each year to pick a carol or song that she loves best.  This year, it's been "Hark the Herald Angels Sing"  She especially seems to like later verses of carols.  She's gotten very annoyed with me a few times for not remembering all the verses of "We Three Kings", especially the depressing one about sorrowing and dying!

One of the most amazing and wonderful moments ever with Janey, one of those I hesitate to mention almost because it seems like one of those "autism is magic" stories that in daily life don't really happen that often---when Janey was about 6, she heard the Hallelujah Chorus from The Messiah for the first time, in the car.  She was quiet and looked to be in awe for the whole thing, and when it was over, she burst into applause, clapping for a long, long time---something she had never done before for a song, much like the first time George II
of England heard it and stood up in honor, which has become the traditional thing to do.  It was a moment I'll remember all my days.

Autism never takes a holiday.  That can be very tough at times like Christmas.  It's hard having to adjust plans, presents, visits and expectations for the whole family to avoid meltdowns, but not doing so is even harder, as a meltdown filled Christmas is not fun for anyone.  Overall, I felt encouraged by hearing from others about their Christmases.  We seem to find a way to find joy in the season even with the challenges.  It's not easy, but not much of this autism parenting gig is.  I hope all of you have a wonderful Christmas and/or New Year.  We are all in this together, wherever in the world we might be, and that truly does help.  Merry Christmas.

Autism on the Airplane and the questions it raised for me

By now, if you are reading this, you've probably heard the news story about the pilot who made an unexpected landing to remove a girl with autism from his plane, after her mother requested a hot meal for her so she wouldn't have a meltdown.  If you haven't, here's a link.  I'm not going to get into all the ins and outs of this incident, but it seems to have caused a lot of discussion---some of it focusing on the mother and what she should or shouldn't have said and if she was or wasn't handling the situation well.  I'm not going to give an opinion there, because I don't have one---I wasn't there.  I can't speak just from the perspective of being the mother of an autistic child, because we don't speak as a group.  Autism hits people randomly, and the mothers of autistic kids are not any one type, with any one characteristic.

What I can discuss is the questions this raised for me about Janey specifically---the one autistic girl I know well enough to talk about.

If Janey is having a severe meltdown, she is very capable of hurting people.  And she has.  The nightmare moment of my whole life so far was when she freaked out in the emergency room at Children's Hospital, bit me badly, tried hard to bite some nurses, threw objects around and attracted a crowd in the room, including some police officers.  If I ever have a worse moment than that, I hate to think what it might be.

We don't always have a warning that Janey is about to melt down, or much of one.  And even if we do, we can't always fix the situation that is causing the meltdown.  I do feel a responsibility to the people around Janey to keep them safe.  So---what does that translate to?  Do I never take Janey anywhere at all, because there is a chance, however slight, she might melt down and start lashing out?  If this is the solution, Janey wouldn't go to school.  She wouldn't go to stores.  She wouldn't go anyplace.  I can't feel, right now anyway, that that is the correct solution.

How do I balance Janey's right to live in society with society's right to be free from being hit, scratched or bitten?  I think I have a responsibility to take reasonable precautions.  I would not let Janey run around free at a playground full of smaller children.  She can be hugely provoked by crying, and sometimes just randomly she lashes out at littler kids.  If we take her to a playground, we stay right by her side, and I don't attempt to take her alone to places with a lot of kids.  When Janey is out of the house, she is under the direct supervision at all times of an adult.

So, what if I got into a situation with Janey like the one on the plane?  What would I do?  I'll leave aside for now that we aren't going on any planes any time soon, because we can't afford it and because I am terrified of flying.  I'll imagine that somehow we ARE on a plane, and something has triggered Janey---maybe a baby crying.  I'm imagining her freaking out, lashing out, acting in ways that sound far, far beyond anything the girl on the plane in the news did.  What do I do?

I don't have an answer to that question.  I'd of course try to keep her from hurting anyone.  I'd try to calm her down.  But she would attract attention.  It would be a scary scene.  I don't know what I'd do.  I really have no idea.

Most kids with autism are NOT like Janey. She is not the majority.  But other kids like Janey do exist, to be sure.  And exactly how we as parents and we as a society deal with them, help them---that is a question we need to figure out.  It's a question I personally need to figure out.  Janey has much to offer the world.  She is amazing in so many ways.  But the world is in many ways not set up to deal with Janey, and I am just not at all sure how to handle that.

The Mother's Day Card They Don't Make

If you stroll the aisles of your local card shop in search of a Mother's Day card, you will find almost anything you need.  My husband actually gave me a card this year from our cats.  Like that card, many of the cards are made to speak for kids that don't talk, or who aren't likely to pick out a card---which, truth be told, are most kids under the age of 20 or so.  Kids aren't extra known for planning ahead to make Mother's Day special.  That's more the work of husbands or teachers, and I appreciate all the work both those categories do to make sure I get some Mother's Day wishes.  However, the card that I've never found is one to give to the mother in your life that has a child with autism---a very specific card from our specifically special kids.  Here's some of what it would say, if it existed....

"Thank you for all the nights you stayed awake when everything in you wanted to sleep.  I don't know why I sometimes wake in the night, but you are there for me when I do."

"Thank you for changing diapers and pull-ups, and occasionally cleaning up from what happens when they aren't changed quickly enough.  Thank you for understanding that I'll be trained when I'm developmentally ready, not when my age says I should be"

"Thank you for finding your inner tiger to speak up for me when I can't.  Thank you for overcoming your fears and being an advocate for me"

"Thank you for focusing in on me when I am melting down in public, and ignoring the stares around me.  Thank you for finding the strength to keep taking me out"

"Thank you for having the courage to follow your instinct as to what will help me best, and thank you for having the flexibility to change course when what you thought would work isn't"

"Thank you for taking joy in my accomplishments.  Thank you for realizing that a triumph is a triumph, no matter what age it occurs at"

"Thank you for finding a way to communicate with me, however you can.  Thank you for knowing that talking in a conventional way isn't the only right kind of communication"

"Thank you for enduring my tantrums, my meltdowns, my crying, my manic laughter, my rituals.  Thank you for understanding I am doing the best I can"

"Thank you for seeing all the ways I am amazing.  Thank you for secretly thinking, as almost every mother thinks of almost every child, that I am one of of a kind, special in a way that no other child is"

"Thank you, most of all, for loving me---loving me with a love that is fierce and all-consuming and never-ending.  Thank you for being my mother"

And my own voice here---thank you to all the mothers of autistic children everywhere.  You are my sisters.  You are my heroes.  You are my strength.  You are amazing.  Thank you.

Everything magnified by ten

I'm trying to think of a way to describe Janey's behavior this week, and the title of this post is what I came up with.  She's not doing anything she hasn't before, but everything is done in a bigger way---louder screaming, more violent reactions to being told no, more hysterical laughter, bigger acts of destroying things around the house, more night waking----it's like she just decided to kick it all up a notch.  It's been pretty tough, to put it mildly.

It's hard because this is probably the most unstructured week of our year.  No summer school, regular school doesn't start until September 4th (and believe me, that date is circled in red on my calendar), Tony is at work, we are just hanging out.  And I had planned to try very hard to take Janey places, to keep her occupied, but when she is acting the way she has been, I can't do it alone.  Literally.  I can't handle it alone when she runs away from me, when she decides she wants her clothes off, when she starts screaming and lunging to bite me, when she scratches herself until she draws blood---it's not a one person job.  Even taking her in the back yard is getting tougher, as she suddenly gets unhappy there and freaks out, and does the clothes off routine, which she knows means we have to go inside.  I'm starting to wonder if she's using it as a way to tell me she wants to go inside, instead of just saying that, which she can say easily, but what am I supposed to do if she is?  Let her stay outside without clothes?  No.

Yesterday we did get out, by taking William with us.  He is leaving for college on Sunday, and we are piecing together shopping for that.  Janey did fairly well with him there, but that was by means of him whisking her away the minute she got crazy, for escalator rides or quick walks.  And by means of literally grabbing the first 3 towels I saw to buy William.  We then went to ToysRUs, which she enjoys looking around at.  However, she quickly found a toy she took an immense liking to, a hugely overpriced electronic counting Elmo toy.  It has flashing lights and an annoying song---what else could you want?  She has some birthday money, and I had hoped she'd like something else, but she now knows what the checkout counter is for, and pulled me over to it so we could make the gadget ours.  Time used up---about 10 minutes---leaving many hours left in the day to fill.

I made some calls to try to get something started to help all this.  I got a referral done by my pediatrician to get Janey seen at Boston Medical Center, which I am told has a good autism program.  We have an appointment in October for just Tony and me, to do intake.  I also made a sooner appointment for myself with a new rheumatologist, to try to get some health answers so I am better able to handle things.  Tony is going to call Janey's psychiatrist today, to see if we can adjust her medication.  We are doing what we can, but there is honestly not that much that can be done.  There are times when her behavior is such that one's instinct would be to take her to the emergency room.  If it were something physical wrong with her, and she was showing symptoms of the severity of the ones she is showing, I bet I'd get very quick and wonderful care.  But I've read enough accounts of people in desperation taking their melting down autistic kids to the ER to know it's a waste of time.  Which is, of course, a crying shame.

My theory as to why things have gotten worse, besides the unstructured time---Janey is getting closer to puberty, and I know how that affects any girl.  She is rapidly getting stronger, and bigger, and she is frustrated, I am sure, with her limited speech and independence.  During calmer times this summer, she was showing me in many ways she wants a little more freedom from me---the tiny bits she can have, like sometimes walking without holding hands, like being in a different room---she actually said one day "I want privacy"---a concept I was surprised she understood.  But if I let her even go into the bathroom by herself, she wrecks havoc---towels in the toilet, water overflowed, all the toothpaste squeezed out---even as she is getting better at using the toilet on her own.  How do I figure this out?  What can I do?

I think I'm scared of a point arriving when Janey truly starts hurting me.  That is very hard to say.  But she is more often lunging at me with her mouth open, wanting to bite me.  The other day, angry I didn't change her Netflix show quickly enough, she smashed the remote on my wrist, and I feared for a minute it was broken.  What do I do about this?

Lots of questions here, which are of course mostly rhetorical.  There aren't answers.  All I can do is hope that Janey gets through this phase and back to the one she was in previously, when she was a delight and I felt a lot of hope.  I need that hope.

Sleep, Depression and all that jazz

I'm starting to think that if I want Janey to do something, I should just say here on this blog she never does it, because then she will.  I said the other day she never naps, so of course a long nap of hers about ruined this weekend.

Friday night was a little tough.  There were meltdowns, which I wrote about, but I did practice what I preached here and got her calmed down and sleeping.  For a while.  She was up about 3am, ready to party. She hasn't done too much night waking lately, but when she does, well, it's not easy.  I'd say it's almost like torture.  I feel desperately tired but I have to make myself stay awake, to keep Janey safe.  I do everything within my power to try to get her to sleep, but if you have a child who has no desire to do things just to please you, who understands what you say only some of the time, who has an inner motor which goes off at its own times---trying to get them asleep is about as successful as trying to herd cats.  Janey alternated between crying and hysterically laughing.  We did what we often give in and do and put on Netflix, and let her watch some TV, which allows us to sometimes drift off for a minisecond if we are sure she's engrossed, but no longer than that, or she'll go into the kitchen and toss stuff around, or suddenly get a notion to jump on Tony or me, elbows out, poking us hard.  Even if none of those things happen, after a while something triggers a desire for a snack, and she starts demanding "I want ketchup!  I want sauce (tomato sauce)!  I want noodles!  I want chicken!  I want purple ice cream (which is what she calls all ice cream now)!" For variety she throws in a few "I want to go outside!  I want snuggle with Mama! (which always sounds so promising but only lasts a few seconds before she hops up again)  I want shoes on! (which means she wants to go someplace in the car)"  We say the right things---we don't eat in the middle of night, we are all going to sleep right now, it's not time to get up---but saying them, truthfully, does less than no good.  And so we exist in a zombie-like state until she falls back asleep, which she did about 7, and then she woke up again about 8.  

Usually she's up for the day, but for some reason, not Saturday.  She lay down about 11 and slept right until 2.  We tried to wake her half-heartedly a few times, but to be perfectly frank, it was pretty relaxing having her nap.  We had 3 hours of Saturday to do what we wanted with---of course, within the house and boys allowing.  When she got up, though, she was not in a good mood.  It was a fussy afternoon and evening, until she got back to sleep about 8 (no matter what, she goes to bed about 8.  Now watch that not be the case tonight).  And yes indeed, she was up at 2am.  We gave in pretty much and just got up with her.  We watched TV, including at around 4 a very interesting nature show about Australia.  Janey drifted off around then, and we were back to sleep until about 7.

That's a long story of sleep and not sleep---you are probably asleep now reading it.  And it has induced in me today a huge bout of depressed feelings.  When I have a few nights like that, I get NOTHING done the next day.  I don't get laundry done, work done, cleaning done, dishes done, anything at all.  Tony does a little better, and he has been a saint today---cooking and taking Janey to the playground and all that.  And I sit around and hate myself for being so tired all the time.  I try to reason with myself---I say all the right things---that anyone would be tired after a few nights like that, that just getting up and taking care of Janey every day is work enough, so on and so on.  But I hate days like this.  I hate feeling like a loser, like someone who barely has the energy to crawl to the couch and crochet all day.  I hate the mess around me that never gets cleaned up, because I never have the energy to do it.  I hate my medical issues that make me even tireder---the latest fun additions there are Sjogren's Syndrome  and Undifferentiated Connective Tissue Disorder, which I won't get into the details of because my mother always taught me that no-one wants to hear all the details of your medical issues, but you can click on the names for a link if you are interested---but they both have the side effect of severe fatigue, as does my thyroid disorder.  And yet I still feel like a lazy person for being tired, a hypochondriac although I have blood tests with concrete numbers to show I do have a reason for being so exhausted, beyond just being 47 and caring for a toddler in an 8 year old's body.

This isn't my best written entry here, I know.  I am rambling a bit, probably because I can barely keep my eyes open.  But it helps to write.  Thanks for listening, if you've made it this far!

Autistic Meltdowns ---- 3 Ideas

In the no-parenting-book-gets-it world of autism, a lot of figuring out what works is just trial and error.  I was reflecting tonight, after a few meltdowns, that it's actually getting better.  A year ago, the kind of meltdowns Janey had tonight would have lasted much longer and been much more severe.  A lot of that is just Janey getting older, but I think we have learned a little more about what works for her.  I know what works for Janey might not work for any other kid with autism, but I thought it would be worth writing about anyway, just in case!

Idea Number 1----Quiet it all down.  When Janey is melting down, crying, screaming, it creates chaos, both just from her meltdown but also, I've realized, some from our reaction.  It's very hard to stay calm with her kind of meltdowns, which can lead to her hitting herself, biting herself, tossing things, screaming in an ear-piercing way---you probably know what it's like.  So lately, our very first response is to eliminate all other noise that we can.  If the TV is on, we turn it off.  If music is playing, off also.  We talk as little as we can and in as low voices as we can.  I find sometimes actually having everyone but one adult leave helps, just because it keeps us from talking to each other (but the other adult stays close by, because you never know when she will need two of us to keep her safe).  I also turn off lights.  When everything else is calm, it seems to help Janey get control, or at least not be more irritated by the sounds around her.

Idea Number 2 ----  Soothing predictable actions.  With Janey, what I often do is rub her back, or if she is too upset for that, even just tap next to her on the bed or couch, something rhythmic and even.  Once she is quiet enough to make it worth the while, I sometimes sing a lullaby while rubbing her back or tapping, with the same verses being repeated over and over.  I think it gives her something new to focus on that, something that can quiet whatever is inside her mind making her upset.

Idea Number 3  ---  Sleep or eat.  Usually, when Janey loses it, she's in one of two states without realizing it, either hungry or tired.  She doesn't seem to know herself always when she's feeling either of those.  If it's close to bedtime, I do what I can to get her to sleep.  We are lucky in that she falls asleep pretty easily (staying asleep all night is more of the challenge, usually).  If it not bedtime (Janey never naps), we get her eating.  Although she asks for food all the time, when she's really upset, she doesn't seem to realize she's hungry.  So we just get food into her any way we can.  We offer her any of her favorites, we run to the little store nearby to get what she might want, we do whatever we can to feed her.  That works very well, often.

These ideas don't always work.  Sometimes, Janey is going to melt down and we aren't going to be able to do a thing about it.  That is just about as hard to deal with as it always has been, or more hard, really, because Janey is bigger.  But as the years go by, I think we are very slowly learning Janey, and maybe she is learning us, too.

Mean people and kind people

This morning, on the way to school, Janey and I stopped at the grocery store.  She needed more juice boxes for school, where they keep a cupboard of snacks for her, as her eating is odd and often doesn't fit nicely into school lunch or packed lunch categories.  Janey has been tough lately.  She's making big strides with understanding and with doing things for herself, but as often is the case with her, those strides come with a period of strife.  She had already freaked out in the car several times, but I really had to do the store---I wasn't going to send her off to school without the tools they need to get her through the day.  That isn't fair for me to do.  So I hoped for the best and went into the store.

At first, things were okay.  Janey stayed with me, was cooperative and it seemed to be going well.  It was just a quick shop, and I had hopes of getting out of there without problems.  But then I made a huge error.  I stopped at the magazine rack.  I was hoping to pick up a crocheting magazine---my latest passion.  But I didn't follow the rules of shopping with autistic kids.  I lingered there for longer than the allowed 30 seconds. I must have looked for that magazine for a full 90 seconds, or maybe a second or two more.  I didn't find it, and the damage was done.  Janey wrenched out of my hand and ran down the aisle screaming.  I caught up to her, but not before she had grabbed some crayons and opened them in anger.  I tossed the crayons in the cart to buy---not for her, but because I couldn't leave them open on the shelf.  She continued to freak out the whole time we were checking out---loud screaming, biting sleeves, a little head banging, general hysteria.  We only had about 15 items, but it still felt like a long time standing there.

The woman behind me in line, when I caught her eye, smiled at me in a wonderful way.  She then said "I hope both of you have a better day soon!"  I wanted to hug her.  It was exactly the kind of response that is so, so wonderful to get---a kind smile, a nice word.  Then we walked toward the door, and a woman that had been in the next aisle stared me down as we both approached the door.  She muttered something under her breath that I won't repeat here, but it was far from pleasant.  It used some swear words in relation to Janey.  I felt like she had kicked me.  I just as quickly as I could got to the car, unloaded it, and had a few minutes sitting inside crying.

I don't understand what drives people to act like that.  Did she honestly feel I had just brought a brat into the store to ruin her day?  I know it's not fun to be around someone who is melting down.  I know that better than most.  But short of keeping Janey home at all times, I can't prevent the public from occasionally having to be present for one of her meltdowns.  I just can't.  And I'm sorry if they upset people.  I truly am.  I've become a little stronger over the years in dealing with stares and disapproval, but I have to say it's still incredibly hard for me to soldier through a time like today.  Which is kind of the point I'd like to make to that nasty lady---I very much don't need you pointing out to me how Janey was behaving or how it bothered you.  I'm plently aware of it.

But I'll end positively.  The sweet, sweet woman that was so helpful with her words and attitude---there are a lot of people like that.  And I hope they know how much a simple kind word can do.  I hope I have a chance in life to pay it forward and be like her as often as possible, because I have learned what a huge difference that kind of kindness can make in someone's life.

CVS Hell

Janey is happy right now, watching TV and cheerful.  Which is amazing, considering our ride home from afterschool today.  The great high school student that often is with Janey at afterschool reported she had a good day, but started crying just before I got there, which is not uncommon.  I think she knows when it's around time for me to be there, and if I'm not there right when her mind tells her I should be, she freaks out.  She was crying hysterically all the way to the car.  I told her I had chips for her, which made her settle for a minute, until she saw they were cheapo Lays BBQ chips, not the Pringles Salt and Vinegar that I am SUPPOSED to have for the ride home.  She pushed the chips away and screamed "CHIPS PLEASE!" It wasn't really the chips, I know, but that didn't help.  She screamed the first 10 minutes in the car at an unbelievable volume and in an unbelievable tone.  I was just barely able to drive.  She stayed in her seat belt, but writhed around so much I thought of a new fear, that she could unbuckle and jump into the front and cause an accident.  I made a decision---we would stop at the CVS for the chips she wanted.

I tried to use it as a bribe.  I told Janey "They don't allow loud screaming at the CVS.  You need to take a deep breath and calm down if you want to get chips"  She tried.  She really tried, but there was just no calming down.  She was too far gone.  I drove into the CVS parking lot and sat there a minute, trying to decide what to do.  Janey would cause a scene.  There was no avoiding it.  I hate being in a scene, hate being the center of attention.  But I needed to get home.  I knew the chips would buy me 20 minutes of quiet driving, not fearing for my life and hers.  So I took the deep breath instead and took her into the store.

It was as much hell as I thought it would be.  Janey was screaming the unearthly scream the whole time.  To add a little more of a bizarre twist, she also occasionally screamed out a phrase I have no idea where she learned "Ashes to Ashes!  Dust to Dust!"  I haven't taken her to any funerals lately, and I can't imagine any of her kids' videos feature that exact phrase, but who knows?  It added just the little touch of seeming possessed that made the whole thing that much more fun.  Every eye on the crowded store was on us.

I decided somehow, through the screaming and the stares, to just pretend Janey and I were alone in the world, and to do whatever I could to get us through the store and keep her calm.  I held her hand, talked to her in a low voice saying things like "I know how scary it is to feel the way you do. Mama loves you.  You are being a good girl.  Let's get the chips.  Let's get in line.  I am right here with you"  I was far more patient and loving sounding than I felt right then, but I figured I could control my part of the show, and the gawkers didn't need to see a crazed mother too.  I was hoping against hope someone would take pity and let us go ahead of them in line, but no such luck.  The woman ahead of me seemed to go as slowly as she possibly could, while repeatedly glaring at me to let me know how much she was being disturbed.  When I finally got to the counter, the cashier asked for my CVS card, and I said as cheerily as I could "I have one, but I can't get it right now!"  Yeah---because if I started searching for it, my daughter would escape and run screaming around your store, lady.  I handed her cash and got out of there.

In the car, as I expected, Janey ate the chips and I made it home.  She had a few more crying spells, but overall, she's over it.

Now, did I do the right thing?  I don't know.  To an outsider, it might look like I was giving in to Janey.  But I don't think I was.  She was upset, but not really about the chips.  The chips were just a part of the routine that wasn't met, and a tool to calm her down.  I needed to get home safely, and that wasn't going to happen unless I did something, so I did.

I can understand why people stare at Janey when she is acting the way she does.  I can't really blame them.  But I wish they would just catch my eye and smile, or at least not be quite so open with the staring.  I would think they would realize that I don't enjoy going in the store and disturbing their evenings.  I'd rather, quite frankly, do almost anything else on earth.  But Janey is a human being, one who, despite her sometimes very tough behavior, is part of the world, the community.  Figuring out how to make that work is not easy sometimes.