I was over reading djuggler's blog about his son and his entry was regarding his son saying noises over and over again.  DJ started doing this a few months but instead he mimics everyone around him.  And, of course, the TV, commercials, etc.  I've tried mimicing him back but that doesn't work because he thinks that is just too funny (brat!)  Here went our conversation the other day:

Me:  DJ
DJ:  DJ
Me:  DJ, I want to ask you a question.
DJ:  DJ, I want to ask you a question.
Me:  Seriously.
DJ:  Seriously.
Me:  I'm not playing DJ.
DJ:  I'm not playing DJ. 
Me:  You want to play?
DJ:  You want to play?
Me:  We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union...do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.
DJ:  Huh?
Me:  (Smile)
DJ:  That's so NOT fair, Mom!

I do know this will only work but for so long.  DJ has one heckuva memory and will memorize ir probably around the 3rd or 4th time I say it to him again.  But I still have the Declaration and the Gettysburg Address under my sleeve.  He, he.  I'm so evil:)  But he always gets the last word in.  ALWAYS!  That's so NOT fair!

Problem:  People who drive down I-95 after it snows doing 25 mph, when there is NO SNOW ON I-95.  Come on...we got an inch - maybe.

Solution:  Move to Florida.

Problem:  People who drive down I-95 everyday doing 25mph. 

Solution:  Take the back roads. 

Problem:  People who are merging onto I-95 from the entrance ramp doing about 10 mph and decide to jump in front of someone (Me) who is doing 65mph causing this person (Me) to slam on my brakes.

Solution:  Go back to driver's ed.  Evidently you don't know what YIELD means.

Problem:  The girl in my office who thinks the heat should stay at 79 degrees farenheit.  Then proceeds to turn it up 10 times a day after I turn it back down to a reasonable 72.

Solution:  Get some sweaters.  If not, I'll be coming in wearing a tube top and hot pants and scare the crap out of you.

Problem:  Same girl who keeps blasting classical music while I'm trying to work.

Solution:  I turned up my radio to drown out hers a little and got a major sigh in response and a request to turn my stuff down.  Whatever!

Problem:  Same girl takes up two parking spots every day when parking.  When brought to her attention, she doesn't understand why she should have to change her way of parking to please other people.  

Solution:  OK, she is the rudest, most inconsiderate person I ever met.  We've been stuck in the office alone for a week and I hope I don't get fired for doing something crazy and violent.  I am so NOT a violent person.  I'm all mouth:)

I think she just needs to find another job.  I'll be happy to help her.

I remember this one time, my co-worker T and I were at lunch together.  He is worse than me.  On the way back to the job, he picked up a free career paper from the vending machine and left in this woman's mailbox.  I think we need to do this to PrimaDonna.

Santa stopped by at our house and left DJ a gamecube game, Shrek Uno, a Harry Potter dvd, Spiderman 2 dvd, a boombox, a Magna Doodle, accessories for the Magna Doodle,  a jigsaw puzzle, a cash register, Shrek cd, Godzilla cd, Lion King cd, a strobe light, a Lite Brite, Simon, Sorry and assorted other odds and ends.  PIC gave him a VideoNow and some videos for it. 

PIC gave me a mess of beauty products.  I'm going to look and smell so yummy.  I can't wait:) 

We have enough ham to feed the neighborhood and lots of liquor left.  We never did get around to eating desert.  It was a quiet dinner with just myself, Pops and DJ.  PIC went to her mom's house and none of the people Pops invited showed up. 

Hoping your holidays were just as nice!

Now I get to go back to work tomorrow while Pops and DJ get to lounge around until January 3rd. 

Before work this morning, I was reading Moody Mama's entry about how MG might be coming down with something.  Five minutes later, DJ is in the bathroom puking.  Grrrrrrrrrr!  He still insisted on going to school.  Pops thinks he's just nervous and excited.  We'll see. 

I've been reading some blogs here and there and for many people, this is the time of year they get a bonus.  Not my company.  They did give us presents, though.  Are you sitting down?  I opened my present to find an (drumroll, please) umbrella.  A damned UMBRELLA.  Our CEO explained how it was symbolic.  "An umbrella offers protection," or some asinine crap like that.  I'll show you some symbolism...

DJ says to his teacher today:  Come and run away with me, my lady.  Where does he get this stuff?  This is a pic of my little munchkin taken last night.  I get his picture taken every year and have it put on a calendar at the local mall.  Gosh, darn, he's SO CUTE!

(WARNING:  PIC, don't read any further:) )

I've been out doing lots of Christmas shopping.  As I said, I went to the mall last night to finish start my Christmas shopping for everyone but DJ.  As I was going to pay for the calendar, I realized I left my Visa at home.  What the hell???  I don't believe this.  I was so mad at myself.  Luckily I had a bit in cash on me to purchase some stuff.  I also had my checkbook, but I hate writing checks. 

I've picked up 3 things for PIC so far.  They had the cutest Snowbabies at the mall last night.  So I grabbed one of them.  Then I found this great 365 day calendar of Bushisms.  I still can't believe there's 365 of them.  Wait, who am I kidding?  Of course I knew! 

Over the weekend, I picked her up a dinnerware set she wanted.  This was a pain in the butt.  We were in the store shopping for other things.  She saw it.  She wanted to buy it.  Mind you, she is one of the hardest people to shop for.  I've mentioned before she buys stuff ALL THE TIME.  Which means something I have on my list to pick up for, she will most likely buy herself beforehand.  So now we're arguing in the store about whether or not she should get it that day.  Me thinking, I could come back tomorrow and buy it for her for Christmas!

She wants to get it right then and there.  So I start making up this lie and saying about how cheap it's going to be after Christmas and to stop being foolish.  Blah, blah, blah.  Either she fell for it or she got tired of hearing my big mouth.  But this sucker was HEAVY.  It's been sitting in the trunk of my car for a few days because she is off work for 2 weeks (Lucky!)  Today, she was finally out so I grabbed my Maintenance Man and I had him get it up to the apartment for me.  Gosh he's such a cutie. 

I know she also wants a cookbook, some earrings, and Collateral.  Anything else,  I have no clue.  She does want this $100 ("but it's marked down from $248, Wendy") cashmere sweater that I think I talked her out of buying.  No, I'm not buying it.  Someone needs to pay bills around here:) 

The following was sent to me by a very dear friend written by Maureen K. Higgins. I want to pass it on to you.

Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores. I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring experience, experience you culled with your very heart and soul. You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world. You are my "sisters".

Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite sorority. We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail.

We were initiated in neurologist's offices and NICU units, in obstetrician's offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasounds. We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, x-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries.

All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We were pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn, or we were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed. Something wasn't quite right. Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs.

We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our children's special needs. Some of our children undergo chemotherapy. Some need respirators and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk. Some eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not discriminate against those mothers whose children's needs are not as "special" as our child's. We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes.

We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever materials we could find. We know the specialists in the field. We know the neurologists, the hospitals, the wonder drugs, the treatments. We know the tests that need to be done, we know the degenerative and progressive diseases and we hold our breath while our children are tested for them. Without formal education, we could become board certified in neurology, endocrinology and physiatry.

We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get what our children need to survive, and to flourish. We have prevailed upon the State to include augmentative communication devices in special education classes and mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy. We have labored to prove to insurance companies that medical necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects. We have sued municipalities to have our children properly classified so they could receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis.

We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that means walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during "tantrums" and gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the person behind us in line. We have tolerated inane suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have tolerated mother of children without special needs complaining about chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our closest friends can't understand what it's like to be in our sorority, and don't even want to try.

We have our own personal copies of Emily Perl Kingsley's "A Trip to Holland" and Erma Bombeck's "The Special Mother." We keep them by our bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours.

We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the neighbors' front doors on Halloween and have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, "Trick or treat." We have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have painted a canvas of lights and a blazing Yule log with our words for our blind children. We have pureed turkey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter. And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family.

We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how we'd make it through another day, and gone to bed every evening not sure how we do it. We mourn the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy. We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And we've mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things we needed for the trip.

But we, sisters, we keep the faith always. We never stop believing. Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they will achieve in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra points and home runs. We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear their angelic voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palette smeared with watercolors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall. We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never stop believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this world.

But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing to do, is hold tight to their little hands as together, we special mothers and our special children, reach for the stars!

By Maureen K. Higgins

Wooo hoooo!  Release date on Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is set for July 16th in the US, UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa. 

I DJ can't wait!

I know I probably shouldn't be all giddy about this, but I am dammit!  I just found out my grades for the semester:

Intro - A+
Intro to Word Processing & the Internet - A+
Business & Financial Math - A+
American Government - A+

I can't believe I set those goals for myself way back when and I actually accomplished them!!!!!!  How freakin cool is that?

In the beginning of December, I posted this article to my blog.  Ellen Notbohm, the author of the article, graciously asked me if I would instead link directly to the article due to copyright infringement.  Ellen just emailed me and let me know I could show the article on my blog!  Ellen is also the author of 1001 Great Ideas for Teaching and Raising Children With Autism Spectrum Disorders.  Pick up your copy today.  She also welcomes emails. 

---

What Every Child with Autism Wishes You Knew

By Ellen Notbohm

Some days it seems the only predictable thing about it is the unpredictability; the only consistent attribute, the inconsistency. There is little argument on any level but that autism is baffling, even to those who spend their lives around it. The child who lives with autism may look "normal," but his or her behavior can be perplexing and downright difficult.

But the citadel of autism, once thought an "incurable" disorder, is now cracking around the foundation. Every day, individuals with autism show us they can overcome, compensate for, and otherwise manage many of its most challenging aspects. Equipping those around our children with a simple understanding of autism's most basic elements has a tremendous effect on the children's journey towards productive, independent adulthood.

Autism is an extremely complex disorder, but we can distill it to what I call The Big Three--sensory processing difficulties, speech/language delays and impairments, and whole child/social interaction issues.

Here is what every child with autism wishes you knew.

First and foremost...

I am a child with autism. I am not "autistic." My autism is one aspect of my total character. It does not define me as a person. Are you a person with thoughts, feelings, and many talents, or are you just fat (overweight), myopic (wear glasses) or klutzy (uncoordinated, not good at sports)?

Next, sensory integration may be the most difficult aspect of autism to understand, but it is possibly the most critical.

My sensory perceptions are disordered. This means the ordinary sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches of everyday life that you may not even notice can be downright painful for me. The very environment in which I have to live often seems hostile. I may appear withdrawn or belligerent to you, but I am really just trying to defend myself.

A "simple" trip to the grocery store may be hell for me. My hearing may be hyperacute. Dozens of people are talking at once. The loud speaker booms today's special. Musak whines from the sound system. Cash registers beep and cough. A coffee grinder is chugging. The meat cutter screeches, babies wail, carts creak, the fluorescent lighting hums. My brain can't filter all the input, and I'm in overload!

My sense of smell may be highly sensitive. The fish at the meat counter isn't quite fresh, the guy standing next to us hasn't showered today, the deli is handing out sausage samples, the baby in line ahead of us has a poopy diaper, they're mopping up pickles on aisle 3 with ammoniaI can't sort it all out, I'm too nauseous.

Because I am visually oriented, this may be my first sense to become overstimulated. The fluorescent light is too bright. It makes the room pulsate and hurts my eyes. Sometimes the pulsating light bounces off everything and distorts what I am seeing--the space seems to be constantly changing. There's glare from windows, moving fans on the ceiling, so many bodies in constant motion--too many items for me to be able to focus, and I may compensate with tunnel vision. All this affects my vestibular sense, and now I can't even tell where my body is in space.

Receptive and expressive language and vocabulary are major challenges.

Please remember to distinguish between won't (I choose not to) and can't (I'm not able to). It isn't that I don't listen to instructions. It's that I can't understand you. When you call to me from across the room, this is what I hear: "*&^%$#@, Billy. #$%^*&^%$&*" Instead, come speak directly to me in plain words: "Please put your book in your desk, Billy. It's time to go to lunch." This tells me what you want me to do and what is going to happen next. Now it's much easier for me to comply.

I am a concrete thinker. I interpret language literally. It's very confusing for me when you say, "Hold your horses, cowboy!" when what you really mean is "Please stop running." Don't tell me something is a "piece of cake" when there is no dessert in sight and what you really mean is, "This will be easy for you to do." When you say, "It's pouring cats and dogs," I see pets coming out of a pitcher. Please just tell me, "It's raining very hard." Idioms, puns, nuances, double entendres, and sarcasm are lost on me.

Be patient with my limited vocabulary. It's hard for me to tell you what I need when I don't know the words to describe my feelings. I may be hungry, frustrated, frightened, or confused, but right now those words are beyond my ability to express. Be alert for body language, withdrawal, agitation, or other signs that something is wrong.

There's a flip side to this--I may sound like a little professor or a movie star, rattling off words or whole scripts well beyond my developmental age. These are messages I have memorized from the world around me to compensate for my language deficits, because I know I am expected to respond when spoken to. They may come from books, television, or the speech of other people. It's called echolalia. I don't necessarily understand the context or the terminology I'm using, I just know it gets me off the hook for coming up with a reply.

Because language is so difficult for me, I am very visually oriented. Show me how to do something rather than just telling me. And please be prepared to show me many times. Lots of consistent repetition helps me learn.

A visual schedule is extremely helpful as I move through my day. Like your day planner, it relieves me of the stress of having to remember what comes next, makes for smooth transitions between activities, and helps me manage my time and meet your expectations. Here's a great website for learning more about visual schedules: www.cesa7.k12.wi.us/sped/autism/structure/str11.htm.

Don't let autism cause you to lose sight of the whole child. Self-esteem is critical. Focus and build on what I can do rather than what I can't do. Like any other human, I can't learn in an environment where I'm constantly made to feel that I'm not good enough and I need fixing. Trying anything new when I am almost sure to be met with criticism, however "constructive," becomes something to be avoided. Look for my strengths and you'll find them. There's more than one right way to do most things.

Help me with social interactions. It may look like I don't want to play with the other kids on the playground, but sometimes it's just that I simply don't know how to start a conversation or enter a play situation. If you can encourage other children to invite me to join them at kickball or shooting baskets, I may be delighted to be included.

Try to identify what triggers my meltdowns. This is termed the antecedent. Melt-downs, blow-ups, tantrums, or whatever you want to call them are even more horrid for me than they are for you. They occur because one or more of my senses has gone into overload. If you can figure out why my meltdowns occur, they can be prevented.

If you are a family member, please love me unconditionally. Banish thoughts like, "If he would just . . ." and "Why can't she . . .?" You didn't fulfill every last expectation your parents had for you, and you wouldn't like being constantly reminded of it. I didn't choose to have autism. Remember that it's happening to me, not you. Without your support, my chances of successful, self-reliant adulthood are slim. With your support and guidance, the possibilities are broader than you might think. I promise you--I'm worth it.

And finally...

Three words: Patience. Patience. Patience. Work to view my autism as a different ability rather than a disability. Look past what you may see as limitations and see the gifts autism has given me. I may not be good at eye contact or conversation, but have you noticed I don't lie, cheat at games, tattle on my classmates, or pass judgment on other people? And I probably won't be the next Michael Jordan, but with my attention to fine detail and capacity for extraordinary focus, I might be the next Einstein. Or Mozart. Or Van Gogh.

They had autism too.

It won't happen without you as my foundation. Think through some of those societal rules, and if they don't make sense for me, let them go. Be my advocate, be my friend, and we'll see just how far I can go.

Ellen Notbohm is an author and consultant in Portland, Oregon, and founder of Third Variation Strategies in Portland, Oregon. She can be reached at ellen@thirdvariation.com. Her column, "Postcards from the Road Less Traveled," appears in Autism/Asperger's Digest.

Evidently I need to go to school with DJ.  I must have been absent years ago the day(s) they taught us how to use scissors to cut a straight line.

DJ's going to think the elves were tipping the bottle when they were wrapping presents this year.