Autism isn’t cut and dried; there is no cure and there is no known reason

There is a lot of hype out there; a lot of different news reports, speculations, theories, and ideas about why there is such a huge influx of autism diagnoses in the world in the last twenty years.  However, Autism isn’t cut and dried; there is no cure and there is no known reason as to why there are more and more diagnoses out there...or even what causes autism altogether.  In the last twelve years I have read varied reports from different agencies and organizations about where and why there is autism…the truth is there is not answer and they are even farther from a solution since there needs to be a cause in order for there to be any advancements in a cure.

Certainly there is a lot of documentation about vaccinations (some just about the vaccination on its own; some about a preservative that was used in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s), some others about genetics, others about mercury rising in various places (water, food, the ground), still yet others related to diet (gluten, corn, dairy all seem to top a list), even others about the vast over use of chemical pesticides on our food.  The reasons could be as simple as none of the above to all of the above or just variations of the series of each theory put together…who knows?  I certainly do not and I started realizing that my independent search for a ‘reason’ was wasting my time and energy towards a problem that there is not real solution to.  I don’t disparage or think that parents are wasting their efforts that are looking for that elusive reason; on the contrary, we all have different ways of coping with a situation that we feel helpless in addressing.  My theory has always been:  if it doesn’t hurt the child, then what does it hurt?  Do what makes you feel better and what helps you cope with watching someone that you love more than life itself struggle in a world that relatively ignores him/her, judges him/her, or just doesn’t understand him/her…I am a firm believer in supporting people not bringing them down because what I do is different from how someone else might do it.  

I am extremely pragmatic and systematically look at most situations with a logical basis in deductive and sometimes (very rarely) inductive reasoning.  I saw that each claim was just that a claim; there was no basis in tangible or categorical scientific proof to substantiate them; not yet anyways (except the genetics course; however, not all children on the spectrum have Fragile X only some).  Just recently some courts have determined to accredit some of autism to the use of vaccines; however, just two years ago those same courts decided that it wasn’t the cause.  I don’t hold stock in courts that are ruled by men who are not scientists, often juries are not really those of ‘peers’ when determining a case outcome, and the fact that only scientists and other people of such education can really answer our questions for certain.  Until that time happens, the courts will flip-flop back and forth without really scientifically proving anything.  It is a system that just cannot be trusted to find the problem, when the scientific understanding is very limited and left unproven. 

At the end of the day, and as I have said many, many times in the last decade or so:  I am not a scientist, I cannot control or determine the course of how/why my sons are autistic; instead I will focus on what I can control.  I will try to socially educate the rest of the world a community at a time about these amazing autistic people and children who are being diagnosed these days in droves.  Attitudes have to change about how to deal with the situation now.  Sitting on our laurels waiting for a cause and a cure doesn’t help the families now that spend most of their time alone in the world; we are often excluded in the most basic ways.  No one means to; they just do not understand the difficulties in raising even one child on the spectrum.  Changes in the education system, in social attitude, and acceptance are what we need to focus on; let the scientists figure out the rest.  I would rather focus my time enjoying my sons rather than worrying about what I cannot change or control anyways.

Back in the Saddle again

Dating…it was problematic and frustrating in my twenties and now that I am in my forties with kids...the activity seems twice as daunting and doubly frustrating as it was before.  Let’s face it, under the best circumstances at my age anyone that is worth my time is already in a relationship/married, isn’t anywhere I can find him, and likely not someone I will find attractive.  I have had a fair number of folks recently assume that a woman my age who has two children with special needs is desperate and willing to date just about anyone...I am far from that.  My life doesn’t need to be defined by what a man can bring in my life; on the contrary, my life is defined by me and what/who I want in it.  My kids come first and after coming from where I came from before…I already know what I do not want and I am not about to settle.  The rules are strict and the standards are high; if a guy cannot meet them...well there are plenty of other fish in the sea that he is welcome to look for who might.  This is not a judgement on anyone else's life choices or preferences; I judge no one.  Life is hard and people want to find that special 'someone' and they want to be happy.  For me, my definition of happiness is just a little different; not better. 

Let's start with the comedy side of things

I decided that I was going to start dating after the divorce was finalized more as an introduction into the world again; I had just  came off of an almost eighteen year hiatus from this particular activity and I wanted to see what was 'new.'  Aside from the technological advances it's almost the same...well not quite because I am super rusty at it, but mostly the same.  The first really big problem that I have, is the misfortune of looking younger than I am (baby faces aren’t all they are cracked up to be).  Some say that I am lucky; however from my standpoint, looking like I am in my twenties is about the worst thing I could have possibly imagined.  Most fellows that seem to approach me are either in their twenties or in their sixties it is a rare thing when someone my own age sparks an interest.

First, let me start with the boys (and I am sorry if I am old enough to be your mother you are a boy)...due to my very young face and super short stature I have been asked out by very, very young men.  Nothing against these young bucks or people who date them, but I am just not all that into explaining that I actually do dress my age...Chuck Taylor Cons were invented before even I was born (I've been rockin' the Chucks for almost 30years now).  If they cannot get an 80's sitcom, movie, or music reference...we probably don't have anything to talk about.  And, to be honest...anything more than a four year age difference just makes me feel old.  Moving on...

Next,  there are the junior octogenarians (men just under the age of ancient and circling the drain on elderly) whose behavior when asking me out is just a little more than disturbing.  I mean I am not sure what seems to bother me more:  the fact that they think I am in my twenties OR the fact that they are old enough to be my father...probably it's both.  Their approach is usually slightly or even really creepy, but if one more old guy asks me if I want to ride his motorcycle or check some other high priced vehicle sparked by some mid-life crisis...I may have to duck and run for cover; screaming.  Ew.  Sorry old guys...I don't need a dad, I have one thanks.

My sons are the only people who matter to me…

Finally, the regular ol’ age appropriate guys that I have met in the last few months don't appear to enjoy following the rules.  I am open and up front about my kids and the rules that I follow when dating.  I have to be honest…typically most fellows tend to magically disappear when I tell them that I have two autistic sons in their teens... So they don’t really even make it to hear the rules.  But...there have been a small handful of brave souls who have managed to stick around.  They have been few for certain, however, I think they assumed that whole "she's desperate" thing because of my kids and worked feverishly to try to get me to break them along the way.   

So what are the rules? 

1.  No one…NO ONE meets my sons for a very long time and only after I decide that he is worth the effort and stress it might cause the them.  Period.  It isn’t even negotiable. Don’t even ask.
2.  I have criteria that must be met as far as what it is that I want in a man and if he cannot meet it (no matter how small the detail) I will not date him.  It is that simple.  
3. If a guy intends on dating me he needs to be prepared to move at something just less than a snail’s pace.  I have no intention of rushing head long into anything.
4. My kids have a dad and he is in their lives and always will be; deal with it.  We co-parent to make things work for the boys not for ourselves.
5. And last...refer to the previous rules.  I am not about to change them, they are there for a reason.

To put it simply, the rare few that have actually pursued anything past a first date inevitably have tried to bypass one of the rules and either end up frustrated and giving up OR me deciding that they just do not warrant my valuable time to invest in the situation.  As a single autism parent, I have a lot more at stake than just a potential for my heart to be broken...it is a potential for my sons to have theirs broken too.  This is likely the same for any child, the difference is that my sons in particular tend to hold onto that loss a little more profoundly than say a child that isn't on the spectrum.  How so?  Let's just say, my oldest son mourned the loss of an ice cream cone for three days...they do not always know how to process change well.  That is why I say "worth the effort and the stress that it might cause the boys"...I have to know if a person has got some "stick to it" in his demeanor.  I am not about to have tons of men gallivanting in and out of the kids' lives.  They just don't need it.  

So when I say, I am not desperate to meet a guy...I am not desparate.  I have much more at stake than me.  I have two very important and special boys in my life already that mean more to me than anything that any guy has to offer.  It doesn't mean I am not open to a future relationship it just means I am okay without one.  

SPECIAL EDITION: World Autism Awareness Day

It hasn’t been a mystery to many people reading this blog that I have a very personal stake in autism and that I am determined to advocate for my sons the best way that I know how:  education.  With statistics rising to 1 in 68 children diagnosed per year in 2014 and a projected average of every 1 in 2 children by 2025…this is something that cannot be ignored anymore.  I am not a scientist so my focus isn’t going to be finding a cure, but to educate those people that maybe do not know what autism is.  I hope to touch people with children with autism as well and to maybe help them in their journeys of discovery while they explore what it is to have a child on the spectrum. 

The road isn’t paved in gold and often times the struggles parents face has more to do with societal stressors and the defunct educational systems that still cannot seem to acknowledge just how imperative it is to provide the necessary tools for our children.  Then there are the people that just do not know…our neighbors, friends, or even our families that just do not know enough or really understand enough to confidently support our parenting.  It isn’t malicious (it can be hurtful sometimes though), but it is just about education.  Understanding what we go through and that it isn’t about good or bad parenting.  It will become about creative parenting a child that is so extraordinary that the only label he or she could be given was Autistic.  For these kids and adults are amazing and beautiful with precious insights into our world that we the average human beings just cannot see. 

I love my sons and part of loving them has been the ability to embrace the autism as it is a part of them; part of who they are.  It isn’t their sum total and I would encourage people to lose the belief that they cram all of these amazing kids into a singularly labeled box…it just cannot be done.  I often tell people that they only two things that my sons have in common are that they have red hair and an autism diagnosis; other than that, they are about as different as any two people could be.  I am proud to be their mother and hope that as I write about us and our journey together that there will be people that learn something that will help benefit other people with autism…and that for others that they will find solace in the words that I share.  We are all special in our own way; unique, it’s just that some of us have a classification on what makes us different.

With all of that being said, I might as well share that I am a photographer in the area that I live in and I am running a special there that will offer local families an opportunity get a free ten minute session with five digital images of their family and of course of their autistic child(ren).  It is my goal to post all of these images by April 2^nd in honor of World Autsim Awareness Day and to represent just how many families our area that are affected by ASD.  It will run throughout the month of March and a series of dates and locations as to where I will be doing this will be posted on my professional and blog Facebook pages to let everyone know where I will be. 

Help me to advocate through education and bring your families in support of autism awareness in our community.  Thank you.

I am not superhuman...

...There's no cape, I avoid tights if I can,  I don't wear a mask, or have any special powers.   I am just a mom that loves her kids and I am prone to moments of despair just as much as the next person.  There has often been a time or of two after a few nights without sleep that I have found tears stinging the corners of my eyes trying to escape down my cheeks.  

I can usually stave off those moments; however, there are times when the simple human being in me comes out and makes her presence known.  It's just part of the process; the journey I am on and although I work hard to laugh at situations where others fail to see comedy (laughter is the greatest tool that I have in my coping arsenal) I am just like anyone else and I can get a little down in the dumps.  The truth is, 'laughter as the best medicine' is also just a mask for what lies underneath the surface. It is the salve that only partially heals my wounds and camouflages them from the rest from the world.  

Like I said, I am just a woman; human in every way...plain and simple.  I cannot possibly manage to be cool, calm, and collected all of the time.  The waters of the dam break every so often and I am caught out on the river floating desperately and clinging to the raft that I have been riding on.  The whole while I am hoping to stay afloat through the tempestuous rapids until things finally slow down to a dull eddy where I can relax before the next waves come.

My stresses typically have come from a lack of support.  It has been a long road to go alone as many do not realize just how much work my children can be.  I think it is the isolation that I feel from spending so much time by myself couple with the frequent sleeplessness.  It builds up after a while I have to just let it all out with good solid cry.  Some of the stressors I can sit back and laugh about while others I have to work out...by actually working out (the second greatest tool in my arsenal: exercise). 

One such instance of the human in me eeking out was when I found myself completely exhausted and alone.  I had gone 48 hours without sleep and the prospect for any seemed distant and ever eluding.  Aiden was about eight or nine months old; Seamus was nearly four and he was in the process of potty training.  Both boys were sick from the stomach flu.  The vomiting had stopped and the next phase of diarrhea had taken over.  Let's just say, having two little ones in the throws of a vicious stomach virus with one who has just learned to take his diaper off and the older one is working on a sensory breakthrough at the worst possible time...is more than just a little overwhelming.  I don't think I had spent that much time cleaning and doing laundry in my entire life; the task was monumental.  I remember calling my mother absolutely exhausted and trying to keep my calm, but breaking down in tears all the same,  "...my life is sh*t; literally!  I just don't know how I can keep doing this all on my own.  I am just so tired."  She started laughing at what I had said and after I reflected a moment I started laughing too.  Right through the tears running down my face.  The moment of crisis had passed and I was able to regroup.  Sleep did eventually come, even if only a few hours.

It was a human moment.  It's one that I survived and on my own. Help comes rarely for me.  I have carried a lot by myself even while I was married.  Life isn't simple and it wasn't meant to be; it's just what humans do.  They fall apart and lift themselves right back up again; resilient.    

I think aside from the most poignant lessons of unconditional love, patience, and joy that my sons have taught me would be the lesson that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be.  I am capable of holding on; even if just barely.  I am a parent...who loves her sons; it's what we do.  Anything worth having is worth working for.  

"You sure have your hands full..."

"...or I am so sorry" are a few of the things that people often say to me when they hear my sons are autistic; the latter typically spoken in a whisper.  I realize in some way people saying they are sorry is their way of being nice or trying to be sympathetic.  So I forgive it as often as I can, I am only human so I have to admit it rankles me a bit.    I love my sons and am not sorry that I have the privilege of parenting them; loving them and being there for them.  We as parents make a choice to be mothers and fathers...and I choose to be happy with who my children are.  There is no need to be sorry for me.  But I understand the motive and know it comes from a good intention.

Next:  

"You've  got  your hands full..." typically finds itself being said while people watch me patiently working with my sons (more usually Aiden these days) to calm down while we are out and about.  Autism is often plagued by sensory issues that make the world so scary, and in some cases, so physically painful for them that they appear to be acting up or misbehaving.  There are just too many sights, sounds, smells,  and even tastes that it overwhelms their senses to a point where they cannot focus their attentions on any specific thing for too long and it causes them undue stress.  It almost makes me think of those movies where the camera pans around spinning and swirling frantically in all directions just before someone passes out or faints.  This is how it is all of the time for my sons all of the time.  

My poor youngest son has these issues the worst of my two children and he has verbally expressed physical pain at times in certain instances.  I became a fan early on of compromise and in rejoicing in the small victories and our goals together are often based on their needs.  One of those compromise/victory things was keeping clothes on him.  It was painful for him and added to the stress he already had, so I just kept working with him and comforting him when we left our home; hoping he would stay dressed and that he wouldn't be too stressed.

Some instances at three were cute and funny, like the time I turned away from him just to pull an item off of a shelf in a grocery store only to turn around and find him completely disrobed in the cart; silent and quick (two minutes, tops).  A myriad of playful giggles from other shoppers seeing the little backside of a tiny toddler was enough to make anyone smile. I laughed, too, and then put his clothes back on, telling him quietly, "Clothes on, we keep our clothes on."

It was funny, but a small warning signal went off in my mind that no one would find a nude teenager as cute or sweet..  So I worked on it and I invested in many onesies and overalls and eventually he learned to stay dressed.   It is hard as a mom to have your toddler cry and tell you how much the clothes hurt his skin.  Certainly the pain left no visible marks, but I knew from his despair just how painful it was.  It took years, but I have come to rejoice that he keeps his clothes on in public and has resorted to boxers at home.  This I the compromise. At least he is covered.  Small victories and I know our work together is paying off.

The sensory issues don't end for Aiden (or any person that suffers from them) at his clothes staying on; in fact the very fact that he is wearing clothing often makes his stress worse as the sights, sounds, smells of people, animals, trees, cars, etc add up and usually a panic attack ensues.   He has regularly expressed pain in both verbal and nonverbal ways to his surroundings.  One of the nonverbal ways come from biting; not others, but himself.  He has a callous on his hand from where he often bites himself when the stress is just too much for him.  When it first started happening, I became so panicked and distressed over it that I started trying to temper it.  No parent wants his or her child to hurt himself/herself, but in the end only made things worse for him.

Then...I read something written by a young woman with autism that suffered the way my son does (I wish that I could find the link, it has been years now).  Her words finally put an insight on what he endures every day of his life, (paraphrasing):  ....imagine 20,000 fire ants crawling all over your body every minute of every day of your life with pain so excruciating that the only way it stops for even a moment is by banging your head against the wall.  It still hurts, but it's one pain is not thousands of painful episodes reoccurring over and over again. 

The proverbial lightbulb went on above my head when I read that, and I realized...that is what Aiden was doing.  Aiden is trying to make all of that pain he feels disappear, even if for but a moment.  The rate and voracity by which he bit his wrist was equal to the amount of overwhelming pain he was feeling from everywhere around him. 

I won't lie.  I cried; I cried knowing just how much pain my son was enduring every day of his life.   The only thing I really hate about this disorder is that is there are pains I cannot fix, there are discomforts I cannot soothe, and there are things I cannot just make go away.  So I work on those things I can.  I still try to help my son calm down when he is stressed, but now I am not as hysterically persistent about making him stop biting himself (I still calmly and quietly say, "No bite, Aiden.  No biting, sweetheart," I just don't try to pull his hand away).

 I understand that for a brief moment...the briefest moment he isn't in as much pain as he was before.  It's a small thing...but it will have to be enough for right now.  I will take the compromise and wait/hope for a future victory.

My hands are not nearly as full as my heart is and I really feel that when you love anyone as much as I love my children any of my own discomfort  compared to theirs is small indeed. I truly believe that anything worth having is worth working for.  

Who needs sleep anyways?

Who needs sleep anyways?  This sentiment is one I often proclaim as many of my friends can attest to.  It is funny, this last week I was sitting and pondering on this very subject.  Sleep.  It has been an ever eluded thing in my life these almost thirteen years or more.  I have spent many nights sitting with my youngest son as he struggled with sleeplessness.  It has been by far the most physically difficult part of having a child on the spectrum.  For those parents whose children suffer, and it is suffering at the highest level, from lack of sleep you understand what I am going through.  

Although insomnia, sleeplessness, or sleep disorder (the latter is what I classify it as) is quite common amongst children on the spectrum it is not considered part of the disorder since there seems to be no impirical data to support it.  Truth be told, not all people on the spectrum suffer from sleep issues.  In fact, my oldest son wasn't plagued by this issue at all.  I was graced with at least eight full hours of sleep per night starting the moment he was brought home from the hospital.  It was amazing!  (I dare to daydream of dreaming these days).

It wasn't to be so with Aiden, poor guy.  He hasn't  really slept more than four hours at a time since he was born and for a grand portion of his early childhood he went with even less than that. It has been hard on his little body and he often gets sick far more often than other children.  It is something that just breaks my heart, since I understand just how tired he really is.

When he was first diagnosed I brought up the subject to his specialist, who proceeded to tell me that although it was a common question and one that many parents have reported as an issue it could not be officially classified as an autism symptom.  This was because there was no way of scientifically proving it; it was just conjecture by parents at this point (said the man with a full night's sleep).

It was during this timeframe that Aiden began the first of the longest days of his and my life...he went a total of 36 hours with out any sleep of any kind (thank goodness only two other times has this happened).  His sobs were uncontrollable as exhaustion had clearly take it's toll on him.  He was just barely three at the time.  I remember holding him and rocking him in my arms crying right along with him; I remembered just how I prayed for sleep to come and give his sweet little body rest and peace from his pain finally.  It broke my heart that I could not fix it or kiss his pain away.  There is nothing worse than that feeling of not being able to help your child when they need you most.  So I just kept rocking him, holding him, kissing his tears, and praying.

After his crying had gone on inconsolable for more than an hour, I called the doctor and begged for relief for son and the answer came in the form of Melatonin.  It doesn't keep him asleep and only really works when he has had zero bumps in his routine, but it has at least allowed him an average of four hours if sleep as opposed to the alternative which was much less.  There are still times when it doesn't help, but at least twenty-four hour stretches come less and less.  

I am sitting here typing this out as I watch the fevered little face of my son.  As I said, he seems to catch illness more often and this time more severely than his brother.  His little face looks so peaceful while sleeps and he as he has slept away the last few days and nights as his body fights off the flu.  It struck me as I was sitting here (likely what influenced me to write about this subject), 'How sad.  My baby who never sleeps when he is well can only seem to find sleep when he is so miserable that it is all that he can do.'

Autism brings more discomfort than most children and people on the spectrum can adequately express.  There is only one thing that I truly hate about this disorder, and that is knowing that my child suffers in ways that the rest of the world cannot comprehend and I cannot do anything to fix it or make it go away.

What is 'normal' anyways?

               As much as I love words and to use words as much as possible, I have to say in the last decade one that I find to be my least favorite word is:  normal.  What is normal anyways?  According to Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary normal (within the context I am currently referring to) is the measurement of what is the ‘standard’ or typical.  So, my question is…who is in charge of this measuring and how is it okay to apply this term to children or anyone really?  Since my oldest son was diagnosed as being on the spectrum I have found that more people like to use this term just after I have had to have a ‘teaching moment’ with them. 

               I am so very lucky that my sons do not have melt-downs in public often (melt-downs occur when a child is so stressed out and overwhelmed that they lose their ability to function; it is basically a panic attack), but my oldest son often makes noise or has verbal ticks in response to the stress he is having.  These noises get louder the more uncomfortable he begins to feel…it is upon those occasions that some people might make snide comments or stare at him.  On the rare occasion that he has had a panic attack in a public place (especially when he was younger) I have had people come right up and openly reprimand my parenting skills.  It is here that the ‘teaching’ moment occurs as I usually calmly express that he is autistic and that he is stressed out by the situation, etc.  It is always followed by the same statement:

“But…he looks so normal…”

               Oh how I hate that word, but it is because of that seemingly harmless statement that I have learned a very valuable lesson…never judge a book by its cover.  For all of those folks that randomly accuse or question what a parent is going through with their child it seems that the best course of action is to never assume that it is a parenting issue.  All parents are on a journey as soon as their child is born and we all need as much support as possible to make it through that journey.  I am certain that there are parents guilty of coddling or spoiling their child; however, unless you know for sure please try to think about it like this:  what if it were your child and what if your child was in so much discomfort that he or she was basically falling to pieces before your very eyes?  Do you discipline or try to calm them?

 Like I said, I am very fortunate in that it has been a rare thing for one of my kids to completely lose it in a public place, but I know many other parents that struggle to get groceries purchased, go to the park, go to their local church services, or any other public venue that people go to every single day just as the course of daily living allows all because their child might not be able to make it through the store.  I, myself, I have found myself leaving a half full basket of groceries in a store and walk out to the car just so that my child can have a moment of peace as he tries to calm down from the traumatic experience that he is having at that moment. 

 How much easier would it be for those parents if the people in their communities recognized their struggles and either offered a helping hand or let the moment slide by as if it weren’t even happening…It is all in how we look at our world and all in how we approach every situation, but I would hope that as more people are aware of autism that they will refrain from negative comments to people who likely are already struggling with the moment in the very best way they know how. 

               Autism is not marked by physical identifiable features for your convenience and often times the most beautiful looking children you will ever know are autistic…I find it ironic that in a society that covets extremely, intrinsically attractive people that it is in this same society that can be so easily swayed to judge the character of an autistic child based on his or her same beautiful features.  In other words, society feels that because a person appears to be attractive that he or she is held to a different standard than say a person that may not fall within the same status of physical appearance.   
                The word normal is just an unfair word when applying to people in general, becuase the reality is that we are all different in some way or another; we are all unique and special.  I often tell my sons just how special they are all of the time and Seamus asked me once about him being autistic and I told him, "Autism is just a special word that helps to describe one of the ways that you are special and unique..."  He was pleased witht that response, because it is true...the difference between my kids and kids that aren't on the spectrum is that the rest of the world has given them a title to wear with all of the other amazing things that make them who they are...

Running isn't just running...

               Both of my sons are runners.  When I say that they are runners, I am not saying that they are taking up the activity of running.  It is a term often used for children on the spectrum that literally try to run away from their problems.  They become so overwhelmed or troubled by the stimuli around them that they engage in elopement; escape.  As a parent it is the most frightening and terrifying thing in the world and when my oldest son started engaging in it at the age of three years old it is sad that so many people seemed to jump to judgment without really understanding that when a child, who is likely a genius, decides that he or she is going to take a trip out of the home then they will find a way.  It isn’t an act of negligence usually and likely the doors are locked and the house is secure; however, literally in my case…every time an instance has occurred I was using the bathroom (we all have to; it is a natural process) and I can only believe that just like any child they will use the opportunities given them to attain whatever it is that they want.  In these cases, to escape whatever it is that is plaguing them at the moment. 

               With that being said, when my oldest son first started really engaging in elopement we had tried everything that we could think of to make the environment a safe one, but we were living in a rental and when I called the rental agent to ask about adding locks and alarms I was told that she would sue me if I did it (we did it anyways after a third attempt by him).  Yes, people, it is something that I have dealt with many times over the years:  people that just do not seem to care about anything more than the almighty dollar.  It isn’t their child; therefore, it isn’t their problem.  It doesn’t make it right and ignorance is its own form of special need.  

                At any rate, it was after Seamus had gotten out of the house while company was over (he had pushed the window out over the toilet and had jumped out of it) and was missing for over three-and-a-half hours that I realized that we needed to figure out how to make our home safe and to heck with the rental agent.  I can say though that it was from that moment on that I suddenly found myself checking doors, windows, and waking myself in the night to check if my son was in his bed.  I think what really seemed to break me was on that fateful day when he was gone nearly four hours and dozens of people had been combing the area and no one could seem to find a trace of him.  Since we lived by a lake at the time and no one could find him, the next stage was brought in:  search dogs and divers.  That memory is forever imprinted in my mind and likely I will have it with me always.  I could feel a lump form in my throat and my chest tighten; this could not be happening. I waited until the next day after he was safely returned home to completely fall to pieces with him sitting on my lap and my arms wrapped tightly about him.  All it took was simple cheap door and window alarms with batteries to stop Seamus from running; in his case it was an issue of impulse control.  He just needed something to break that urge and that was enough. 

  Then there came Aiden.  Aiden is the kind of boy that makes me hope that in his future adulthood that he uses his super powers for good some day.  When he wanted to run, he just turned the alarms off; next disarming them completely into uselessness, next we installed two key entry deadbolts…he solved that by figuring out how to pick the locks (pumpkin carving kits were his tool of choice), and then we had video cameras installed to help monitor his movements throughout the house...he proceeded to disable those, as well, once he realized what they were for.  Yes, a folks, Aiden is amazing and persistent.  He likely is one of the most determined children I have ever met, but it is only through hyper-vigilance and a speedy dialing finger that we have managed to keep him safe.  I am not afraid to call 911.  Don’t ever be remiss in calling; no matter if he is found safe right away.  I would rather have the cavalry on its way and him found safe than feel like I am worrying too little and then it’s too late.  This is autism parenting.  Not all autistic children/people are runners, but with so many missing autistic children that seem to plague the newsfeed of my Facebook I think it is important to know something about it. 

I mentioned briefly about people rushing to judgment.  It happens all too often.  They assume that the parents aren’t paying attention or hadn't done something that would could have...  It isn’t that simple.  These children are intelligent; their deficits include social issues and speech cognition in some cases; however, other parts of their brains work just fine and likely far better than us mere mortals!  It is their nature to be observers and although they may not understand intent they do understand when circumstances become available.  I would caution and suggest that people not jump to judgment but offer support of their neighbors in these instances for they all have a story that you do not know about.  I am currently lucky enough to have a great set of neighbors across the street from me who have often helped when I need them to and come to my aid when the occasion has arisen.  I hope that more people begin to really understand and offer help when it is needed.

Out with the old...

...in with the new!  This is the usual sentiment of most New Year’s beginnings and as I watch the social media light up with resolutions and goals for 2015, I find myself taking one last look back at the year I just left behind before I move on.  It was a year of great change:  great heartache and great joy.  Sometimes the two went hand-in-hand as with many things in life the hardest times are glittered with supreme joys, too.  I saw many victories that perhaps I wouldn’t have seen otherwise…With one such victory, I saw that even with such profound life changes that all of the hard work I had done to help my sons to deal with those incongruent moments that forever divert the course of our lives was paying off. 

          For those that do not know, change and autism are not synonymous with one another.  No one particularly likes change, but change for a child or person with autism can sometimes shake their foundations so much so that they regress or act out in very drastic ways.  From the moment that I found out the boys’ diagnoses it had been suggested that I keep a strict and tight routine to help them…I often felt like this just didn’t make any sense at all.  What good would that do them in the event that something major was to ever happen?  So, I started a regime of what I like to call ‘controlled chaos.’  What I mean by this is that from the beginning, I used to like to throw little monkey wrenches into their routines.  

Why?  Because for anyone the only way to deal with change is to just deal with it.

          Maybe I was a rebel or maybe just because I knew my sons better than any specialist or educator could, but I knew that such a rigid routine wouldn’t be able to teach them the coping skills that they needed to function in a world where change is the only certainty.  Such a routine would never help them deal with the eventuality of change in their futures.  How could it?

            As I said before:  Life is change.  It is always evolving and moving in directions that we don’t often choose for it to go.  Does this mean I am a genius?  No it does not.  It means I took what I knew about life, knew about my sons, and what I felt was a common sense solution to the issue of change and applied to my parenting.  I am not going to lie; I went many sleepless nights, endured many meltdowns, and sometimes even endured a little physical abuse from two very little boys that were trying to make sense out the confusion that they felt…but something else started happening too.  I saw them begin to change and to accept the little spurts of disruption just a little bit better with every passing eventuality.  Of course I spent time focusing on emotions and how they could be feeling about their situation; I used various coping mechanisms such as counting backwards from ten and even timeouts.  (Contrary to popular belief, timeouts are not always a discipline, but a means to help someone regain control of themselves…my sons sometimes put themselves in timeout when they feel stressed out).

          It was grueling and sometimes frustrating work built from love and a desire to see my boys have less pain as they got older.  The truth be told, in the end…the only thing that I felt was ‘easier’ did not have anything to do with Seamus and Aiden.  It likely would have made my life easier.  I guess I never really did appreciate anything that was easy.

          As I look back on it all, I could never have realized that the changes in our lives would have lead to where we are now for sure, but I realize that if I hadn’t put all of the groundwork in that what is happening now may have been much, much worse.  When this all transpired at first a year ago, I had a moment where I thought, “Are my sweet boys going to make it through this?”  But in the last half of the year things have begun to return to the way it was before and the boys are finding happiness with the situation.  In fact, as I have often stated…they have a better relationship with their father now than they did before.

          So with that I wish you all a Happy New Year and although I typically do not make New Year’s Resolutions I will say that it is my perpetual goal to continuously try to do what is right for my two favorite boys on the planet!!