autism, Emma, and gender stereotype obsession

If you've ever wondered why Emma talks about pink anything, sparkles, hair bows, eye shadow, lip gloss, dresses, dancing, fashion, pop music sooooooo much, this is a screenshot of an excerpt from an article I came across that will give you a little bit of insight. Yes, it is just who she is. But it is also typical for her to obsess over these gender-specific stereotypes as an Autistic person. It once (as near as a decade ago) was only noted in boys on the Spectrum to have obsessive interests and to talk about them in a one-sided conversation. Two specialists we took Emma to as a preschooler did not recognize this in her and told us she couldn't have autism because she talked too much and she was doing pretend play( dressing as a dancer and dancing.) It took a third (a wonderful, wonderful, educated doctor and psychologist who was extremely thorough in her observations, to finally diagnose her. ... even after a neurologist telling us Emma had autistic-like characteristics at the age of 1! Anyway, just a little Autism post for you. <3 .... and Emma does attempt to make conservation. :-) she asks your opinions on colors and favorites and likes. And she asks again. And again. We often have the exact same conversations day after day, if not for weeks. Even months, some topics persist. It's a little like Groundhog Day sometimes. <3 We once were talking in the car, and I dropped her off somewhere. I picked her up later, and she started up the conversation right where we had left off. :-)

not gonna buy them. nope.

I am a sucky mom. I don't give a shit about Spring Picture day. I never dress my kids nice or do their hair neat. Those picture packages are twice as much as fall pics. We never buy them. I bet the kids looked fabuloso in theirs today.

a morning meltdown

Charlie sniffed the ground, looking for a good spot to relieve his full bladder. I held onto his leash, looked up at the deep, thick, blackness around me. Snowflakes, so many of them, revealed in the lamplight. I said a prayer to the Universe, to keep me going, to give me warmth and light and assurance and the right words to say and a calm voice to say them, when I returned to the house.

nobody likes a Monday (an Autism post)

Emma slept until after supper tonight. Missed most of her Papaw's birthday dinner. Lots of crying after school. I put her to bed. Felt bad because my temper was short. She slept so long-- I knew she must have been holding a lot in all day at school, trying to make it through. She ate and told Papaw "Happy Birthday," or rather I asked her to say it and she never did. :-) but it was implied ;-) After I put Noah to bed, we did a little homework. But not all. We need some sleep. -----> I <----- need sleep. <3

i get to be Emma's mom (an Autism blog post)

I read a post in The Mighty, and I really felt a connection to the writer. This mom and I feel the same about a lot when it comes to our Autism kids.
I got to thinking...

I remember when Emma didn't say door. She would say, "Rectangle," over and over again. I remember when she obsessed over heart shapes, pointing them out even in old trim work in an ancient house we lived in and in the intricate patterns of Mamaw Virginia's shirt. She was a little over a year old. She didn't look at us. We wondered if she was deaf. She lacked fine motor skills to hold a spoon or pincer a Cheerio. She lacked gross motor skills and muscle tone to crawl or pull herself up. She didn't look through picture books with us but instead flipped the pages, flapping the back of her left hand on them. For the feel. For the noise. She would stare for a long time at the carpet, at the colored fibers. She would hum and rock and not answer if we said her name.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time. Hold her so much more. I would burn the books that told me to let her cry it out. I would hold her all night long. Fuck those 'experts' -- I didn't know.

I know it's not my fault. It wouldn't change a thing. But I still wish I could go back and hold her again when she was a roly poly chubby baby.

I remember all the times I cried. Because I didn't have answers. My baby was a sweet, "good" baby. But she didn't look at me. She never fussed, but she was like a ragdoll. The other babies crawled and walked and talked. Emma lay on her blankey watching the blades of the ceiling fan whir around. I was sad. I lost friends because the other moms' babies were beginning to toddle. Emma and I were left behind.

So I did my own research, when doctors failed me. I learned how to teach Emma. We learned and grew together. She still teaches ME so much.

I remember:
pictures of beans and pictures of juice on the fridge door. If she wanted something, she had to point to the picture. Because yelling or grunting wasn't acceptable.

pictures and words on cards taped all over our house, labeling Door, Window, Bedroom, Cups

flashcards I made from magazine cut outs and my own (poor) drawings taped in the bathroom, detailing step by step instructions on how to go about doing your business in the correct order, then washing your hands

a binder of cards that had pictures of the stores we went to, so I could show her in what order we would go to them. in hopes of avoiding a meltdown

I also remember soooo much laughter. the happiest child you ever saw. I remember milestones-- nevermind when she achieved them. It's not even important. We celebrated each and every one.

I get to be Emma's mom. And Noah's. <3 and I celebrate THAT.

just look at her now! my dancing girl. my sparkling girl. She shines!

We have conversations sometimes. She is interested in what others have to say.
Yes, she tells me every day what her favorite colors are. She tells me what her dolls are doing in their "lives." It's nearly always the same. Sometimes I say "uh huh... yeah," but she is telling me. I don't care if it IS a scenario she saw in a Monster High video, she is still telling me about it. And it's so beautiful to me.

cats are enablers...and other thoughts i had while wishing to the stars that noah would fall asleep)

I got this dog, Charlie, for Emma and Noah. Mostly Emma, i told myself. Turns out, my soul has needed him the most. And apparently my subconscious likes a good challenge. Ugh, way to go, subconscious. ;-)

Things I have learned about dogs and cats (and myself) in the last few days:

1. Dogs need to be let out a lot. I need slippers and a hat by the door at all times.

2. It is f%*king cold outside.

3. The constant fresh air is invigorating.

4. My arms & legs are getting stronger from being pulled around by a dog AND me pulling him another direction. ;-)

5. Cats are enablers. They encourage depression. Think about it: my cats are living for the days when all I want to do is burrow under blankets, eat ranch dip, and cry while binge-watching Netflix.

6. Dogs are a super good reason to be more diligent about emptying the trashcans and taking it outside.

7. I now have company on my walks. Company that never says a word, but makes me work harder, never slowing down.

8. Young cats are stinkers who like to tease a dog.

9. Cats appreciate us more as life begins to resume some normality. The purring is louder.

10. I have less time to dwell on negativity when there's a dog who requires my attention.

11. 40 pound dogs can magically fit through a door intended for cats. I seriously hope he doesn't break it.

12. Sometimes our dog needs me to sit with him while he falls asleep. Because he's never had love before now. But I love him. And the kids love him. And even though I am often exhausted, I have lain down with the kids many, Many, MANY nights. So now I have a furry baby too.

13. This dog tells on Emma when she's up in the night digging around in the kitchen. Charlie would like everyone to be sleeping.


I would like to be sleeping. I should be. ...goodnight.

a Charlie for Emma

So... for quite some time now, the kids have wanted a dog. I personally have not been ready for one. I told them we would wait until this year, doing lots of research until now. I knew we can't handle a puppy. Not a big dog that knocks kids over. Not a tiny dog that barks incessantly. A dog for both of my children but one who can especially bond with Emma.

We have cats, and cats are cats --bossy and nitpick-y. And they tend to shy away from Emma because of her sometimes impulsive movements and loud breathing and noises.

I finally came upon this adorably handsome guy on a dog rescue site. He's approximately 6 years old and medium size, weighing in at 40 pounds. He was rescued from people who had him chained in filth for years. His fur was matted and had to be shaved. It is growing back nicely and so soft! The rescue lady thought he would be a good match for Emma. He's quiet. His description reads, "... is a gentle soul, and he carries a bit of sadness." Well, that melted me.

My biggest concern are these cats, who rule this house. I hope everyone can adjust okay.

He comes with a name: Bullet. We think that's a silly name for such a small, shy guy. He looks just like a Charlie. So Charlie it shall be. *thank goodness he wasn't answering to 'Bullet' anyway!

Here we are, January 2015, learning how to care for a dog. Lordy, you have to let them out to pee and poop and play! ;-( we do have a big fenced in yard and live super close to the nature trail.

I wrote some of this while Emma slept on me *rarer than rare. She hasn't done this since she was 3,* and Charlie slept on Emma's carpet.

Wish us luck. Peanut attacked him once. And he peed on the carpet once.

I know we have a lot of love to give him. He's so sweet.