Etsy Goodness!

I've mentioned her before, but my good friend, Jenifer Rank, has a lovely Etsy shop where not only does she sell the items she lovingly knits, but also donates a portion of her profits to various charities. For this very reason, she has been invited to participate as a vendor in Portland State University's (Oregon) Earth Day celebration. They select local artisans who's philosophies and business practices mirror the "Earth Day Spirit." It really is an honor. Congrats, Jen!

One problem.

She needs to sell some of her inventory on Etsy in order to raise money for the entry fee. So let's help a sister out and order something fun for yourself, your kids, your mom, maybe your neighbor. Go for it!

(love these coffee sleeves... especially the one with hiking boots... CUTE!)

Be sure to take a peek at her Abby Collection. It's inspired by my little Abby J and she will donate a portion of those proceeds to Autism Speaks.

That Jen is a keeper, I tell you. Love that woman!

Art is the Creakiest Stair

I think I stopped paying attention to those "milestone" things when Abby was about a year old. You know the lists in books, magazines, websites, etc. I do get one that is sent monthly to my email inbox. It's kind of a good one. Not too specific and with good ideas for discipline, food, and whatnot. I always read the 2-year-old ones that come in regarding Bean, but generally just delete the ones related to "Your 4-Year-Old". It's just been too heartbreaking to read about what other typical 4 year olds might be doing, because Abby's not.

(2 years old, she wouldn't stop to let me comb her hair or even to feed her.

She was on a coloring mission that day!)

Well for the first time... it fit. Here's what it said.

Artist at Work

People, houses, and rainbows are favorite subjects for preschooler artists. Now, not only is it easier to recognize what's in your child's pictures, she actually planned to draw that specific thing. Younger children start with random scribbling and progress to make-it-up-as-they-go pictures. These days, though, when your child grabs a crayon, she often has a plan. Provide lots of opportunities to exercise this blend of creativity, dexterity, and intellect.

(Every artist needs a nose ring, right? She was 3 in this photo, trying on my nose ring... don't worry, her nose is not actually pierced.)

Abby does usually have a plan. She draws suns, people and towers. (she loves cellphone reception towers, smoke stacks, etc, and always points them out as we drive. We have a steam tower in our hometown and "he" and Abby are special friends. She worries about Tower-Do, as she calls "him", during rain, thunderstorms and fireworks in July.) It's been really fun watching her artistic side come out. She comes from a long line of artists and if you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up she answers, "An ARTIST!!" before you can even finish asking the question. Her Great-Grandma Nina would be as proud of her as I am.

This is our dear friend, Kari, with Abby a couple of years ago when we were still living in Vermont.

She is not only one of our closest friends,

but she is one of our favorite artists.

Check her out at karimeyer.com and remember... buy art!

Kaleidoscope Family

We went to the Grand Rapids Children's Museum a couple of weeks ago. I have a few more photos to post from that trip, but I'll start with the kaleidoscope shots, first. I thought these turned out really cool.

(I told Abby that she looks like a Walrus in this picture.

She thought that was really funny and laughed and laughed.)

Footprints on the Carpet

I'm changing things up just a bit here at The Gentle Giant. I hope you all don't mind. I'm planning to do more postings about myself, craft ideas, projects I'm working on and of course stories about Abby, The Gentle Giant. The thing is that I am just as much a Gentle Giant as Abby is. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose. But the description applies as much to me as it does to my little, Ab. Also, I've mentioned before that I'm cautious about becoming one of those parents... not that I'm even remotely close. I just want this blog to focus more on myself and my adventures as a parent of two kids, one of whom happens to have Autism. So this is one of those posts, which I'm hoping to do more of.

For those of you who play the Santa game, I found this great idea on a blog that I'm new to and wonder where it's been all my life... Not So Idle Hands.

I am sooo doing this next year.

Here are her instructions to create Santa's footprints. For my Wonder-Woman-Single-Mama friends who might not have a man's boot laying around the house, maybe pick up a cheap pair at Goodwill and keep one of them tucked away for this little project and throw the other out.

• Find your man's boot and trace it onto a large piece of paper and cut out.
• Then, use the "hole" for a stencil and use a fine mesh sieve to sprinkle flour onto the carpet.
• Next, tap excess flour off of your stencil and turn it over next to the 1st one to make the other foot (turning it over makes it the opposite shoe, so you only have to cut one stencil.)

(all photos from NotSoIdleHands.blogspot.com)

For those of you who were at Bean's birthday party on Halloween, this is where I got the idea for the Jack-o-Lantern jars. Check out the pics and links on the lefthand sidebar of Not So Idle Hands. Emily has some great ideas and I'm excited to keep following her.

Abby Met Santa This Christmas

I really meant to write this like the day after my last Santa inspired post, but life has been oddly busy. I say odd, because I actually have barely left the house. We've all been sick. This weird cold that seems to get better one day only to feel worse than before the next. Abby has surprisingly been surrounded by sick people, but has only sniffled twice. I'm very thankful. Apparently those gummy vitamins really work.

This Christmas was a lot fun. This year, Abby REALLY got it. She has been in love with the movie The Polar Express since last year. I can't even begin to tell you how many times we've seen it over the past year. Since I never believed in Santa as a kid, it's been a challenge for me to play the Santa game, but as soon as I caught on to the "Naughty vs. Nice" brilliance, it's all starting to come together for me. In the days leading up to Christmas, I was able to bring to mind for Abby the scene in The Polar Express where the alarm goes off signaling to the elves that a boy in New Jersey was in danger of getting on the naughty list at the last minute for putting gum in his sister's hair and then... lying about it! *gasp* It's a very serious matter.

(Abby & Bean listening to their Dad read Olivia Helps with Christmas... they make him read this book over and over all year long)

And apparently Abby does not take "Naughty vs. Nice" lightly when it comes to Santa Clause. She was being particularly whiney just before the holiday. I'm guessing it was partially missing school, partially that she is four years old and partially because there were new family members around who weren't privy to her game.

(Abby's Uncle)

So I said to her,

"Do you know what is happening in the North Pole right NOW?!"

She shook her head, "No."

"An alarm is going off and the elves are saying, "Abby in Michigan is not speaking very nicely to her family. Should we put her on the naughty list?"

Her eyes got big and I asked her, "Do you want to be on the Naughty List or the Nice List?"

She answered, "I want to be a nice girl."

"Ok, then. Please stop whining and use your nice words."

And it worked. It's genius! (Mom, you really should have considered Santa if only for that reason. Though I do seem to have a faint memory of you trying to use it a couple of times. Nice try, Mom. Nice try.)

("Daddy! Do you want to cook Santa?!!!")

Abby attended a breakfast hosted at the Muskegon Art Museum the weekend after Thanksgiving where she got to meet Santa. She sat on his lap, which is a miracle. Up until this year she regarded Santa with the same affection as one would reserve for the clown from Stephen Kings 'It'. (He's just a clown, I shouldn't be afraid... but he's so terrifying.) She'd watch from a distance, but when asked if she wanted to sit on his lap, she'd scream with the same intensity that she used, well, for everything else really. But this year, at that breakfast, she sat on Santa's lap and when he asked what she wanted for Christmas, she whispered,

"Super Why!"

Of course, Santa didn't hear her, because not only did she whisper it in her patented barely audible whisper, but she also said it about 10 seconds after Santa asked the question. By then he'd moved on to saying something else. But Abby's Dad was there and he was paying attention. He saw her whisper "Super Why." I imagine she must have been discouraged that Santa didn't hear her.

That's the way it is with kids with Autism. For the ones who do talk, they need a bit more time. I usually tell people to wait longer than they think they need to and then wait a few more seconds. Abby usually answers all questions posed to her, she just needs more time to process the question. Sadly, many people miss her answers.

We waited to put any gifts under the tree until the kids were in bed, telling them that Santa doesn't come until they are asleep. Abby took this very seriously and was asleep within minutes of going to bed. She apparently wasn't taking any chances, what with how close she'd come to the naughty list and all. My brother joked that she'd probably lectured her little brother on not "screwing this up!"

(After Santa had visited)

They were thrilled when they woke up on Christmas morning to find the tree surrounded by gifts. And one in particular said on the tag, "I heard you tell me what you wanted. To: Abby J, From: Santa" She started to open the package with little regard for who it was from, but then when she saw the familiar eyes of Whyatt from Super Why, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her face went white. Her eyes were huge! She dropped the gift and ran out of the living room into the dining room and looked from afar. Trying to process what she'd just experienced.

Santa was real!

He had to be! I could see the wheels turning in her head.

There was Super Why.

From Santa.

He said he had heard her!

(Christmas Morning)

We finally coaxed her back in to finish opening the gift. She finished opening it only to drop it again. She was shocked!

It took her quite a while to wrap her mind around the fact that Santa had heard her request and brought her Super Why. She was so excited! For the first hour that Whyatt was out of his package, Abby had to cover his eyes. She needed more time to process the miracle of actually receiving what she'd asked for.

(holding her brother's Alpha Pig and her Super Why)

The note that Santa left for her and Bean said,

"Dear Abby & Bean,

Thank you for the milk & cookies.

I was so hungry after flying all around the world.

I saw the Great Wall of China and the pyramids in Egypt.

You have both been very good kids this year.

Abby, I enjoyed meeting you at the breakfast with your cousin, ______.

I hope you enjoy your gifts.

Be good listeners and try your best to be big helpers.

Love, Santa."

She was once again amazed and for me, it brought back all the magic of Christmas.

It was truly a morning to remember.

A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!!!

(Our first Christmas in our new home)

None, but Ourselves.

Abby came to me while I was making dinner tonight and said,

"I'm so tired. Time to put on pjs."

I gave them to her and said that she could put them on by herself while I finished dinner. She needed a little help with her shirt, but she pretty much dressed herself. I was struck by what a big girl she is becoming and told her how proud I am of her. Then I scooped her up like a baby and asked,

"What happened to my little, tiny, Baby Abby?"

She told me she is a big girl. I said,

"I know, but you used to be my little baby and I would hold you like this, and rock you while I sang, 'Oh, pirates, yes they rob I. Sold I to the merchant ships. Minutes after they took I, from the bottomless pit...'"

This time she sang along with me.

She remembered and sang a few lines.

Word for word.

I melted.

When she was that colicky little baby, screaming in my arms, I would sing every song that I knew word for word to her. Not only in hopes that it would soothe her, but also as a means of soothing myself. And what song worked most often on my little Nordic, blonde baby? Bob Marley's Redemption Song.

"Free yourself from mental slavery.
None but ourselves can free our own minds."

Unimpressed

I recently put up some Christmas lights in our front yard. I was quite proud of myself. This was by far the most lights outside that I'd ever done. I wrapped white lights up our swirling topiary bush, then multi colored lights on the shrub next to it and continued to alternate white and multi-colored lights along the bushes that line the front of our house. There are 5 decorated bushes in all and a peace sign I made last year hanging on the house. We are one of many houses in our new neighborhood that decorate with lights at Christmas. I was excited to show Abby our display.

She was fresh out of the bath with her pj's on, so I bundled her up in her coat and a hat and we went out to see the lights.

She looked at the neighbors houses, then ours and said simply,

"Needs more."

Then she walked back up the driveway and into the house.

Apparently my light show needs work. Clark Griswold I am not.

(image from 1989's Christmas Vacation via google images)

Propping my Chin Up

I'm feeling a little discouraged today, but I'm really trying to not let it get me down. Abby has made such progress in so many areas and yet I've noticed a little regression in others. I may have mentioned before that she is talking so much more this Summer. It's truly amazing. Just a few minutes ago, she suggested I turn off the lamp since the overhead light was on, because "it's too very shiny in Abby's eyes." And there are times that I can't keep up with her chattering. I really do love it!


I posted a while back about how Abby would let me do some pretty intricate hair styles. I also mentioned that maybe we would go get her hair cut for her 4th birthday. Well the best ideas often do not come to pass. Sometime this summer (I've blocked out the exact month and day) as I was getting Abby dressed and doing her hair, I discovered that she had gotten some tree sap in her hair the day before. It was a HUGE glob and there was just no getting it out. (Since this time, I've re-discovered the miracle of Goo-Gone) So I was forced to cut her hair. This freaked me out, which in turn freaked Abby out. Her hair cut turned out cute, which is nothing shy of a miracle, but now I can barely brush her hair without a scream fest and much anxiety on her part. Gone are the days of pretty braids and relaxing mother-daughter hair styling sessions. I have faith that they will return, but "when?" is the question.

We also made the mistake of introducing flash lights to bedtime. We thought it would be fun, but little did we know the chaos that would ensue. Abby has never been afraid of the dark. And yet with the introduction of flashlights to the routine, suddenly she wants two lamps, two nightlights, her flashlight, her GloWorm and her Moon Light. After all that, we may as well turn on the overhead light. We obliged some of this behavior for a while. Turning off each light one-by-one over the first 20 minutes of bed-time, eventually leaving only her nightlights and flash lights. But then she'd fall asleep with her flashlight on and if we forgot to sneak in and turn it off, it would run out of batteries. Then we'd wake up at 3-4:30 AM to Abby SCREAMING her head off, because her flashlight was out of batteries. And the screaming would only stop once the batteries were replaced. Well... I've had enough of that! All flashlights have been removed from the situation. No more flashlights at bedtime. Last night was the first night without them and it went well. Fingers crossed that the quiet nights continue.

The scream-fests that Abby is famous for had really subsided. It was so nice & encouraging. Now we've had to experience quite a few this last week or so. We had one first thing this morning actually, because I wasn't ready for bright over head lighting at 7:30 AM (it's too very shiny in Mama's eyes... haha!) and only had the lamp on in the family room. She FREAKED OUT because she wanted all of the lights on. I sent her back to bed and told her she could get up when she was ready to interact with the family without screaming. What a great way to start the day. Ugh!

So I am propping my chin up and carrying on. What else can I do?

Geography

Quick post today due to the fact that I have a long to-do list and while it does include,
*Lay on the couch and watch a movie,
it does not include, *Blog.
But I just had to share another of Abby's milestones that
blew my mind a little bit.

We went to the post office today and the clerk gave the kids a couple of stickers. One of them happened to be of a globe with the continent of Africa emphasized. I handed the sticker to Abby without an explanation or saying anything about it at all.

Later, as I was making lunch, Abby called my attention to the sticker. I asked her what it was and she said it was "the world" then added "It's Anafrica." When I corrected her by asking, "Is it Antarctica?", because that's what I thought she was trying to say, she answered,
"No, it's Africa."

Clear as a BELL!

Wow! She can identify the continent of Africa. Without even seeing it in context with the rest of the globe. She just knows its shape. Amazing! It is days like today that give me so much hope for the future.

Abby's Room

Here is Abby's room in our new house.
She has requested purple walls, which she may get, but not for a while.
In the mean time, I think it turned out pretty cute.
The castle was a hand-me-down gift from her cousin.

She has a CASTLE in her room!

What a blessed little girl!
She does have to temporarily share her room with her brother, but I think the castle more than makes up for that.

It's the Perfect Color!

When we moved into our new house (yay!!!) there were a few seagull yard ornaments in the front yard. I'm not big on yard ornaments (probably because I've never owned a yard) and most likely wouldn't choose seagulls to decorate it. (I think "Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine." from Finding Nemo) So I was just going to throw them out, but in the meantime I just moved them to the side yard.


Abby & Bean were spending all their time in the side yard and I could not for the life of me figure out why, when we finally have a big yard and a sand box, would they choose to spend all of their time in the rocks and sidewalk on the 5' x 6'-ish space on the side of the house. Then one day, I noticed that the seagull had a large rock between its wings. Then I heard Abby talking to the bird on another day. And it dawns on me. "Oh! She digs the seagull!" So the seagulls have been spared. But I had to put my own little spin on them if they were to live in our yard, so I spray painted them in high gloss paint. The two small ones are black & white. Abby chose the color for the large seagull.


Purple seems to be the color she favors most these days.
The birds live in the back yard near the play house.

Directive?

We were talking about the movie, Wal-E the other night and I just randomly asked, "Directive?" quoting a line from the movie and Abby responded "Classified!" without missing a beat. Here's a couple little videos of her. She loves watching these. I should take video of her watching her videos. Too cute!

Like Mother Like Daughter

I was asked last weekend by a blogger friend how my upbringing influences the way I parent my children. I thought it was a great question that would make for a great blog posting. Especially since it was so close to Mother's Day. I thought about it and thought about it, but everything that came to mind was sounding so cliche and very "Hallmark Card"-ish. I wanted my blog to be genuine and honest. As usual.

(wearing Grandma's rollers)

The last couple of days in our house have been a bit rough. My 18-month old son, Bean (his nickname) has had a pretty nasty cold. He's been waking up during the night with a hacking cough and just not feeling good in general. Since he shares a room with Abby, she hasn't been sleeping very soundly either and this has not made for a very happy camper in the waking hours. Really it's been an unhappy camping party as no one in the house has been sleeping very well.

Last night I reached a breaking point. I've been so busy with school and life in general that I've fallen behind in one of my classes. I'm a good student and this is just plain unacceptable for me. I was in the midst of trying to download software that was crucial to getting caught up in this class and that would allow me to spend more time at home. The kids were entertained and doing fine, but then I had to get into the closet where the dreaded vacuum cleaner is stored. Dun-dun-duuuunnnnn!!!

(Christmas at Grandma D's)

Abby hates the vacuum. I'll admit we put off using it because of this, but when we finally do break-down and vacuum the floors, Abby usually hides in her bedroom, in her bed with her Blankie-Snuggle and her music turned way up. Even with all of her comfort scenarios in place, she usually screams and cries (loudly) until the vacuum is put away. Not just turned off. "Put away!" The cord has to be tightly wound, the vacuum in it's place in the closet and the closet door tightly shut. Even after she has made sure this has all taken place, she still mutters softly to herself over and over again, "All done. All done. All done. All done. All done."

So back to my story. I had to get into the dreaded closet. (Dun-dun-duuuuunnnnn!) And despite my many assurances that I was not vacuuming, Abby was screaming and screaming and screaming! I should have just said some soothing words and let it go, but for whatever reason, I was so annoyed that she wasn't listening to me, that I let it get the best of me.

(cooking with Grandma)

I yelled. I swore. I slammed doors. I bawled my eyes out.
It was not one of my most proud parenting moments.

So what does this have to do with Mother's day and my dear Mother? Sometimes my mom lost it, too. Minus the swearing part, I reminded myself of my mom last night. She was a single mom. She worked 40+ hours per week and struggled to make ends meet. We were typical kids.

She'd get home from work around 4:30 and walk in to a messy house that had been clean when she left it.
We didn't have our homework done and we'd spent the afternoon filling up on cereal and cookies, instead of saving our appetites for the healthy meal she planned to prepare.
Then we'd complain about the dinner she did make and hound her at every turn,
"Mom... mom... mom!"
I remember standing in the doorway of the bathroom once as she yelled at me,
"Can't I even go to the BATHROOM without an audience?!!!"
And every couple of months, she'd reach her breaking point and we'd all have to endure a fun-filled evening of yelling and inevitably, crying.

I don't look back on these memories with anything other than understanding and compassion. My mom was a great mom! She worked hard and when we repaid her hard work with typical childish thoughtlessness, she let us know how ungrateful we were in the only way she knew how. I'm sure she would have judged herself harshly for letting those moments get the best of her, but I learned a very important lesson during those times.

(In case you've ever wondered what I'll look like when I'm 50)

I learned that my mom was human.
That she wasn't perfect.
That she had feelings.
That being a grown-up was hard and to be thankful that I was still a kid.
I learned that I needed to help my mom out around the house,
because she was doing the job of two parents.
But it would be years before I truly understood just how hard her life was during those years. And because I'm blessed to have an understanding and helpful husband, I don't think I'll ever truly grasp the challenges that she faced.

Usually at the end of one of "those" nights we'd all end up hugging and apologizing for our bad behavior. My mother included. She'd apologize for losing her cool. We'd apologize for being ungrateful kids. And we'd all end up loving each other just a little bit more.

(2 of 3 ungrateful-turned-grateful-children with their amazing mom)

This does not excuse my bad behavior last night. Abby is not an ungrateful child. She is an Autistic kid who is terribly frightened of the vacuum cleaner. I should have been understanding and patient, but I wasn't. So I took a cue from my mom. I apologized to Abby for yelling at her. I hugged her. I kissed her. I vowed to try better next time. My loving and patient husband also had a talk with her and Abby came to me with hugs and kisses and apologized for not listening and screaming when I was trying to reassure her.

I hope that someday when Abby is an adult, that she'll look back on times like last night and recognize that I was human. That I made mistakes, but that I loved her the best way I knew how. And when I didn't do my best, that I turned around and tried to do better. I hope she loves and respects me as much as I love and respect my mom. She wasn't perfect, but she always tried to improve herself and in the long run I think she did a pretty darn good job.

(Doing Grandma's dishes. Something I was never very good at doing.)

Every Now and Again...

Abby needed a bath last night and I was not in the mood to do bath time. So I thought she could just jump in the shower, play for a few minutes, I'd wash her hair and she'd jump out. She has done this many, many times over the course of her life.


So last night, I told Abby that I was going to go run a shower for her.
"No!" she yelled.
"Yeah." I said, "It will be fun. You haven't had a shower for while. It will be quick."
"No!" she yelled, a bit more emphatically this time.

Me being just as persistent as she is, went ahead and ran a shower anyway. There was a time when she preferred the shower over the bath and I assumed that once she was in there, she'd get over it and take her shower.

I was wrong.


She screamed all the way to the bathroom and once I put her in the shower, she screamed some more. Screamed and screamed and screamed as she clawed at the shower curtain trying to find a way out, screamed as she jumped out and ran screaming naked and dripping wet through the house. Screaming long after I said, "Ok, ok! You don't have to take a shower! It's ok, Abby! ABBY! IT'S OK! YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE A SHOWER! ABBBYYYYY! IT'S OK!"

Jeeze, Louise.

Screaming, screaming, screaming. It had been a while since she'd had a scream-fest like that. Let's hope it's a long while before we see another.


After a nice relaxing BATH, dried off and dressed in clean pj's, Abby sat quietly watching the latest DVR'd "Super Why" while I did her hair. She let me put it in 5 tight little buns to sleep in overnight, so she could have curly hair the next day. I'm always surprised by the intricate hair styles she lets me do. There are many quote/unquote "normal" kids her age who would NEVER let their parents do the buns, braids and ponytail styles that Abby lets me do. As I sat parting, combing and twisting her soft hair, I was reminded of another scream-fest we'd had when she was two.

Abby's hair was getting long and was constantly in her eyes. I thought of cutting it into a cute little pixie cut, but couldn't imagine the wrath she would bring on anyone coming near her head with scissors. I didn't figure that would be safe for her or for the stylist wielding those scissors. So I opted to go with barrettes and pony holders. But even those simple devices were regarded with extreme contempt. Whenever I tried to snap a simple butterfly shaped barrette into her hair, she reacted as if I was shoving thumb tacks into her skull. She would scream and rip it out taking a clump of hair with it.

(Notice the "Quiet" face posted in the middle of the mirror as a constant reminder)

Ok, so why force the issue, right? Right. I'm with you. Except that the only thing that would make her more crazy than her mother trying to put barrettes in her hair, was hair in her mouth. This would make her gag and scream and throw herself on the floor and scream some more. (Have I mentioned screaming in this post?) So after months of wrestling with this issue, I decide after one particularly "fun" screaming/gagging/hair-in-the-mouth session, that she was going to wear barrettes. Period.

I took 20 deep breaths, muttered some prayers for patience and persistence on my part, and gently (or not so gently) told Abby that she was going to wear barrettes that day, and if she took them out, I would put them back in, and if she took them out again, I would put them back in, and if she took them out... well you get the idea.


And I did. She screamed, I put the barrettes in, she ripped them out, screaming all the while, and I would put them back. This went on for about 15 minutes until she was sweaty and exhausted (so was I). I finally put her barrettes back in, pulled her up onto my lap with her blankie-snuggle and pacifier, and whispered softly in her ear,

"It's ok, see. Feel the barrettes in your hair. They don't hurt, do they? They will keep your hair out of your mouth. Mamma wouldn't do anything to hurt you, Abby. We're going to put barrettes in every day, so the hair stays out of your eyes and your mouth."

She settled down and literally to this day, has let me do her hair ever since, and rarely complains. I felt sooo bad that day, but I know Abby's temperament. Sometimes she needs to be forced to try new things. I try to let her make her own choices, but every now and again, she needs a little push.


Now let me say again that I felt terrible. I hate forcing her to do things. I question myself at every turn. Was that the right thing to do or the right way to do it?! Well this is one example of not liking the process, but appreciating the outcome.

After watching me get my last hair cut, Abby announced, "Abby's turn!" She wants a hair cut, so I think she's ready for her first trim. Maybe we'll make a day of it for her 4th birthday.

Communication Breakdown

"The most important thing in communication is to hear what isn't being said."
~Peter Drucker (1909 - 2005)

One of the many roadblocks we faced when trying to
"diagnose" Abby's autism, was that she talked.
Kind of.
And the two main symptoms of Autism that people/pediatricians focus on is eye contact and speech. Abby participated in both of these things, so people were quick to dismiss our fears.

Abby actually has a pretty large vocabulary. The problem lies not in her inability to talk. The problem lies in her difficulty to communicate using those words. Until starting school this past January, she mostly engaged in what is known as Echolalia. As defined by Wikipedia,

"Echolalia is the repetition of vocalizations made by another person. Echolalia can be present in autism ... Asperger syndrome, Alzheimer's Disease and, occasionally, other forms of psychopathology. It is also frequently found in blind or visually impaired children, although most will outgrow this behavior. When done involuntarily, echolalia may be considered a tic."

It was very frustrating to know that your child CAN speak, but not to understand why she "chooses" to scream rather than use the words you know she has in her vocabulary. I remember many a time losing my patience and sometimes my temper over what seemed like her refusal to use the words she knew. Instead of asking for her drink or for the crayon she just dropped, she would scream and throw a fit. Then when I would ask, "Do you want your crayon?" She would repeat, "Want your crayon?"


Because I didn't know about Echolalia, I viewed this as Abby's refusal to use words. I would insist as she was throwing tantrums that she "use her words" before I would "give in" to her tantrum. Well this helped nothing. It only made the tantrum worse. Because what I didn't understand was that she might know how to say the words, but she didn't understand how to communicate her wants and needs using those words.

I look back on those times that I lost my patience with her, wishing I could go back knowing what I know now. I wish I could go back and be the patient and loving mother that I always wanted to be. Not the mom who had been screamed at ALL.DAY.LONG. by the little girl with the giant scream and the mom whose patience had worn very thin. I feel badly for the sweet little girl trying to communicate to a mother who had not yet learned to "hear what wasn't being said." I still fail miserably at this some days. But thankfully, those days are few and farther apart now. I can only move forward and do better tomorrow than I did today.

This morning I was treated to a rare gift. My husband let me sleep in until 10 am!!! It was wonderful. When I finally did wake up, Abby was seated at the table, coloring in a notebook with colored pencils. She said to me, "Hi, Mom! Want to color? Come sit down in the seat." as she pointed to the dining chair next to her. She didn't scream at me once. When I complimented her on her excellent choice of words, she smiled and said, "Come on, Mom! Let's color!"

I cannot express to you how proud and thankful I am to have heard those sentences from her today. I'm crying now as I type these last words. The relief I feel at knowing that it's possible! By being patient and looking to understand what it is that Abby is trying to communicate when she doesn't use words, she is finding her voice and finally, finally learning to communicate. This makes each scream a little more tolerable and thankfully, like my least proud parenting moments, those screams are becoming fewer and farther apart.

There is hope. Always hope.

Abby-bird gets the Worm

We all woke up late this morning and sure enough, here we are running late and Abby climbs into bed with me for a snuggle. I learned a long time ago that when Abby decides she wants to snuggle, you had better take her up on the offer, because it could be a while before you get the opportunity again. She was so sweet pushing her nose against mine and looking into my eyes for a few moments, before she'd look away and giggle. From what I understand about Autism, this is a rare occurrence and yet I am fortunate that Abby seems to regard it as a sort of game she plays with me. These are some of my favorite moments.


It was actually a miraculous morning. Generally when we are in a hurry, Abby fights me at every turn. She is a creature of habit and she does not like to be rushed. Who does? But this morning she cooperated in every way and not only did we get outside to meet the bus on-time, but we were early enough that I was able to snap a few photos while we waited.


I often take my camera outside to wait for the bus. You never know what will present itself for a photo. I was focusing in on the new green growth that the previously naked tree was displaying, not paying much attention as Abby searched the ground beside me for new dead leaves to smuggle into the house.


I heard her talking away about something and when I finally looked, she held her hand up to me and said, "The worm is wiggling! It's so cute!"


This is my little girl who FREAKS out when anything sticky, slimy or dirty is on her hands. They've been gardening at school and her teachers have said that she likes the lessons, but does not like getting her hands dirty. And here she is holding a WORM up to me telling me how "cute" it is. She surprises me daily. In this case, I think it's the cutest bird who gets the worm.