Blessings

1) Liberty is very healthy with a strong immune system. Thanks, Dr. Bock.
2) Liberty is a very happy and joyful soul. Thanks, God.
3) Liberty is eating and detoxifying and calmer! Thanks, Thomas Easley.
4) Liberty slept through the night. Thanks, Daddy for playing with him all evening.
5) Liberty is trying to talk, communicate and picking up signs. Thanks, Kathy the teacher.

So much to be grateful for. And, all of this on my mind after a peaceful full night's sleep.

What a different perspective rest creates.

Shelley Hendrix Reynolds, You are MY HERO

"Everyone should be allowed a pity party when a storm hits. You have to get it out of your system -- whether that is by talking. Guilty. Throwing up. Guilty. Crying. Guilty. Screaming. Guilty. Being angry. Guilty again. But after all your tantruming, in the end, you can either wallow in it or get out of it." - (excerpted from an article by Shelley Hendrix Reynolds)

This is undoubtedly one of the best and inspiring articles I have ever read. It's called, "Navigating the Cone of Uncertainty," (a Hurricane metaphor for autism),and it's in the Huffington Post. A friend sent me the link, and, well, if you read my last post, you will see why I needed to read this today.

It's a little lengthy, but oh so worth it. I'm telling you. It's perfect. It really moved me and gave me H O P E. I know it will for you, too.

And, I had no idea that Baton Rouge was wiped out by Gustav, did you??

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/shelley-hendrix-reynolds/navigating-the-cone-of-un_b_129266.html

Tomorrow is Another Day

Many thanks to Drama Mama today for nailing on the head what I have been going through for the past five years. What would I do without my blogger friends?

I've said that there are bad days and there are good days and you just kind of ride the wave. But, I don't always ride the waves well or with grace. I usually have a few fear thoughts crop up like weeds when I'm particularly vulnerable, when I'm tired which is most of the time, or hormonal which is some of the time.

The thing is, I think about my son 24/7. His autism is always in the background. He has some very odd mannerisms that have popped up over the last week (in the middle of some "good" behaviors). Lots of visual stimming, unusual arm movements, and lately, God-awful ear sensitivity. He could not get off the bus on Friday because he refused to take his hands from his ears. He dove for me from the third step of the bus crying. I've never seen him like this.

I cannot count on a full night's sleep anymore because invariably somewhere in the middle of the night or morning, the screeching begins. Actually, it's more like a squawk. It happened this morning and I went to check on him and all he did was throw an arm around my neck, so I thought he was dreaming. It happened an hour later, so I staggered in there to see what was going on - same thing. Checked the pull-up to see if he was wet or something but he wasn't.

I have the thought that he is detoxifying. I took him to an herbalist and did some muscle testing and we saw a difference in him immediately when we changed the probiotic and added in some other things for his gut. But, I get a little tired of hearing phrases like "it's a healing episode," or that when they are getting better, they are "more autistic." Some days I want to say, oh pleeezz shut up. And, maybe they're right, but I don't know. How do I know if it's a healing episode or he's sliding deeper into autism?

Around 7:30 AM, he is wide awake dragging his two pillows into bed with me. I finally just got up and slugged down some coffee and watched Sunday Morning. I realized it was awfully quiet in his room and he had fallen asleep again and did not get up until 12:30 PM. I scurried back to bed to get some shut-eye, but all I got was a bunch of random thoughts that tumbled through space. Weird stuff from my childhood.

I'm stressed.

My son does not speak. He makes all kinds of noises. He has said a few words here and there. I try to accept the fact that he may never speak, but if he does not pick up signs faster...if he does not make eye contact to pick up the signs...what then? When other little kids his age are learning their numbers and letters, what is my son learning? How will he ever catch up? This is where my mind goes in the wee hours of the morning.

The bottom line for me is not will he do well socially, or how will autism ultimately affect his life, etc. It is the fact that I don't know my son. I have an idea of him, of his spirit and I can see what some of his likes and dislikes are by the way he reacts. But, I don't know if he has a favorite color. I don't know what he thinks about when he watches DVD or flips through a book. He's been on the earth for six years and I don't know my son. I've never heard him say I love you. I've never heard, "Mommy, I want..." Just a hand dragging me somewhere.

That's my heartache.

Alright, so spiritually speaking, maybe he did come in this way, knew this would happen and my soul knew it too. Even placating myself with this idea that somehow everything that has happened was meant to be doesn't take away the fact that I miss my son.

He's here physically but I'm lonely for him. It's like he's got one foot in this world and one in another one where I can't join him. Duh. I know, that's autism.

I am sure that one of the reasons I'm feeling particularly blue lately is because last week a little five-year-old boy much like Liberty, whose mom had a blog just like mine and who did all kinds of biomed stuff with him and chronicled his progress like I do almost each day...was run over in his driveway and killed. That woman has been in my prayers each day and night. I didn't know her personally, but I KNOW her. I can't go to the funeral, it would rip me apart.

I've hugged my son tighter, and I am so vigilant about his whereabouts outside. We don't live on a busy street, but there was a time a year ago he got outside and ran all the way down the street where there was an intersection. I've never run so hard and so fast in my life. The vigilance is always right there, like a panther breathing down my neck, "watch out."

I know what that woman would say to me after reading my above statement. "At least you still have your son with you." It's true. I don't understand what's going on with him. I might not ever really get it. But, he's here with me and I love him deeply.

So, to paraphrase what my friend said, I guess all I can do is be happy when the good things happen and try to do the best I can to get through the rough times. Because there is always ebb and flow, in all things. You can see from my previous posts that we have had some great things happen, like great teachers and great days, and then some other days where I'm scraping crap off the walls and falling into bed each night. Lib was doing so well that I even felt a little bit of the load lighten up, enough for me to post about the odd feelings that were released and my blogger friend Carrie remarked that I am experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder. I never thought of it like that, but it rings true.

I usually keep all of these down feelings in check by appreciating what I have. I kind of lost it this past week. That's why I haven't posted. I was afraid someone would accuse me of my blog being "such a downer" again. God. Forbid.

I guess I'm only human.

Just in Case You Missed Funny Cloris

It's a wonder I can get any work done at all...

How can this be 22 years ago?

My mid-life "crisis" or PTSD or whatever thing I'm going through often makes me think of the past - perhaps when there were not so many responsibilities. But, I really want to go back to 1976 - 32 years ago. It seems impossible that it was that many years ago. Time is faster now, slower then.

This song's for my old, dear friend in Florida. You know who you are.

Grace

I just returned from a meeting with Lib's teacher. My sister went along with me. It was the best meeting I have ever had regarding Liberty and his needs. I just wanted to find out what I can do at home to support what she is doing in the classroom. I came home with a great plan --- suggestions for what I can do at home that won't exhaust me or overstimulate Lib, and a list of signs we both agreed that need to be accomplished. I really love her method of teaching.

Here's the best part: When I asked her if I need to get an ABA therapist in my house a few times per week, she said, "No. He is getting it all day long, one-on-one with us. He gets ABA therapy five days a week. A kid needs to be a kid, too."

I about fell out of my chair. He's getting ABA therapy five days a week (she is an almost board-certified ABA therapist). My God, this is almost like camp was for six weeks this summer and it's not costing me $35 an hour.

She said all I needed to do was the little home program I am going to put together. She doesn't want me to be a therapist at home. Learning is supposed to be fun, she said. We can organize small sessions at home in the name of fun with plenty of opportunities for him to learn to sign. And I can still cook dinner and do what I have to do.

She also said he needs huge amounts of vestibular input: Swinging, running, bouncing on the trampoline, riding his bike, etc. I have seen this since his diagnosis. The first OT that ever came to our house would bounce him on the trampoline, hold him by his ankles and walk around, then tickle him on the couch. Right after that, she immediately sat him down and he performed tasks. He did beautifully every time.

He is now almost 50 lbs. I can't hold him upside down, but his father can. So I have to find ways to give him this stimulating input. He becomes more alert when he engages in lots of physical activity. Therapists say he becomes more aware of where he is in space.

Everything at our meeting was so clear, straight to the point, and upbeat. My sister LOVED her. She said my son is in the best possible hands. And, she should know, she worked in special education for 30 years. So, now my family, finally, after the last few years has a much better idea of how to communicate with Liberty.

Most meetings I walk away feeling down. This one, I walked away hopeful. She really loves my son and she has designed the best possible way to encourage him to come out of himself, to interact, and express himself.

Ironically, this is the same teacher I did not like about a year ago when I was going to hire her to do therapy in my home because she said PECS (picture exchange system) was not a good option for my son. The last school he attended and the therapists there insisted on this method of communication as being the right one and told me she was not a "team player" and that she didn't know what she was doing. I listened to them. What did I know?

Never judge. That's all I'm saying. She knew what she was doing all along and I didn't. But, by the grace of God, we got moved to her school and put under her care this year.

Before school began, and before I knew she would be teaching Lib this year, I ran into her in the grocery store. She saw Lib and she bent down and held out her arms and he ran to her and gave her a big hug and a kiss. That's when I knew that she would be his teacher --- long before I got the assignment in the mail. That's the way the Universe works. It was telling me that she was a good match for him all along. To let go. It would be okay.

We are so blessed.

I'm floating on air today.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

I have been gently reminded again, that I have been so focused on Liberty and his well-being, that I often forget about my own.

Well, six years is a long time to let self-care lapse.

I had a strange day yesterday. I awoke feeling pretty good. We have gotten a nice change in the weather here and so I walked one and a half miles yesterday morning. I did some yoga. I meditated. It was lovely. I felt great for the first time in a very long while. Then, the day got strange. I began to feel anxious. I became emotional. I cried while watching Avalon on HBO and folding laundry. I cried over other people's blogs. I kept thinking, "What happened to me?"

Then my loving sister told me that, when we have been under a strain like I have for so long and we see a little bit of blue sky, when the load lifts a little bit, we begin to unleash the frustrations and feelings from it all. She said it's a process that could last awhile. That made sense to me.

Yes, it's really been an ordeal. Is it over? By no means. But, I AM getting some relief now. Liberty is much better, he's on a good road. He is making gains each day. He is happy. He is very healthy in most regards. He is in school, so I am getting a bit of a break, even though I do work at home and stay busy just keeping up with our life but I don't have him 24/7 each day.

He has changed since I last posted only three days ago. I started giving him a natural supplement his doctor recommended to see if some of the stimming behavior goes down. It is beginning to work wonders. He is calmer. He went to sleep at 8 PM last night finally. He slept all the way through the night. His eye contact is improved. He is pretend playing with his little people and horses, etc.

I still have my head full of Liberty -

What to feed him?- he has fallen into an eating pattern that does not include the variety of food he started eating last year and that has created the problems he is experiencing of constipation. He is picky about textures. It makes it hard to come up with new food items for him. This is always running in the back of my brain. Not to mention finding the time to try recipes that wonderful people have sent me.

He needs to learn more signs because suddenly he is using the sign for "pretzel" for everything. He needs more words so he can express himself. What I can do at home to support what they are doing in school, getting someone in my house - all on my mind.

And, we have eventual appointments for occupational and speech therapy, developmental eye doctor, possible ABA therapist, a new pediatrician/DAN doctor in our town, an herbalist, the teacher, etc. So my plate is still full. Very full.

Add in financial strain and lack of sleep and good nutrition and I guess you have a recipe for disaster! Perhaps I can see it as amazing at all that I have made it this far and this intact. This journey has been recorded in my body, my face. I've aged.

But, my sister is right, there is a little more hope, a little more of the door open for me to take care of myself.

I have to get a root canal next week. I've put it off for three months by doing pranic healing on myself while I try to come up with the money. It's just something that has to be done since I did not take care of my teeth like I should have when Lib came along.

So, I guess I need to allow my self to let the tears fall when they come and realize that I am also undergoing a process of recovery myself. I just want to feel like "me" again. And, even that doesn't happen overnight. It feels like it's a letting go a little at a time of all of the "stuff" I've accumulated since Lib's diagnosis.

And, speaking of stuff, since I have done a lot of clearing out around the house, getting rid of the old and outdated, the no longer needed and re-organizing things, I think that perhaps this has started a process of change within me, as well. In fact, I'm sure of it. This makes me rather happy.

I am ready for something new...a new vibration, a new tune to dance to. Fresh energy, fresh thoughts.

Who knows what will happen when I clean out my car?

Learning to Surf

Every now and then I go through some sort of phase with Liberty. I never can see it coming. It just sort of begins to appear and establishes a pattern that we endure anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. You think I'd feel the ground twitch or the faint honk of a horn as the freight train approaches.

But no.

Libby came home from school on Friday with a sniffle that looked like it would turn into a bad cold. Luckily, I gave him some of what I call our "magic" potions his doctor gave us, and it nipped the cold in the bud by morning. But, along with this cold, he has had a few loose stools that has made it even more interesting, as he just takes his underwear off anywhere he happens to be.

And, you know THE MOMENT I turn my back something happens --

Little brown hands.
A flash of a streaker out of the corner of my eye.

Needless to say, I have LOTS of laundry going constantly.

To say that I am beat is an understatement. Weary or maybe world-worn is a little more like it.

Lib also took an interest in the bathroom cabinet items again. He enjoys removing everything and inspecting it for size, shape and color, then he arranges it all in various places throughout the house.

I had to go on a scavenger hunt for my lipstick and eyeliner the other day in my own hallway. Suddenly, the most used phrases in our house are "Have you seen...?" and "I found it!"

We make him put everything back and play the "clean-up game," but eventually, there he is again, removing my shampoo from the bathroom, my husband's aftershave, etc. It's the never ending game. And there sit the Legos, the tools, the puzzles, the figurines, etc. unplayed with in his room. When he's got a good bottle of shampoo or a compact of powder, he's a happy little camper.

I bet you don't know what 300 Q-tips really look like. But I do! When they are spread out individually across the floor, boy howdy, that's a lot of Q-tips!

And it's amazing how many tissues there really are in one of those cute little boxes of Kleenex. He must have had an absent-minded ball removing each one and throwing them over his shoulder as he watched a video. We stuffed them back in, and by God, he uses them to wipe his nose! A minor miracle.

To top it all off, I made the mistake of offering him one of his little people to play with in his bath the other day. Instantly, you could see the light bulb go off in his little brain. Quick as a flash he was up out of the tub and rounding up ALL of his little people and figurines, etc. So, now the shower phase is over because he likes to bathe with his STUFF.

And, for some reason, after doing so well with potty training, he is suddenly removing his pants and having accidents. Is this normal? It's like he does not want to stop what he is doing to have to go that pesky old bathroom. What gives?

I am coping only because I have another really good book going (The Love Season by Elin Hilderbrand). Thank you, God.

Oh---and the spitting skill is growing strong. He understands that it is not cool to spit down the front of your shirt. He gets that he must go outside to spit, but lately, he has found that he can spit in the toilet. This is not all bad because one day, I found that he had stripped down to nothing and was standing at the potty spitting into the toilet when suddenly, he began to urinate in the toilet standing up. It surprised even him. It had never occured to him that he could stand up while going to the potty. He looked over at me and smiled.

In the middle of it all, he is learning about his world, his body. Soon, this phase will be over and another one will take its place.

It's ebb and flow. Big waves and little waves.

I'm learning to surf.

If I can just hang 10 a little longer...

By the way, I welcome all good book and movie recommendations.

For You, Dad - One Ringy Dingy

Sleeping Cherub

The Five Rules of Happiness

1. If you like a thing, enjoy it.

2. If you don't like a thing, avoid it.

3. If you don't like a thing and you cannot avoid it, change it.

4. If you don't like a thing and you cannot avoid it and you cannot or will not change it, accept it.

5. You accept a thing by changing your viewpoint of it.


by Burt Goldman, instructor of The Silva Method

At Home in Mitford

Unbelievably, I haven't had much time to blog since we have been so busy lately, taking Liberty to therapy after he gets off the bus, getting his hair cut finally, blood tests, etc. But, I have done some cleaning out around here and I'm not done yet. I'm on a determined tear to get all in order and do some space clearing.

While dusting off my bookshelves, I came across my beloved Mitford series. If you have not experiened Jan Karon's At Home in Mitford books, you have missed out on food for your soul, my friends. When I was expecting Liberty, I wanted to stay focused and serene as I had had a miscarriage before him, and everything and everyone scared me. So, I delved into the entire Mitford series (over five books) and it saw me through. It kept my head in the right place. I laughed out loud and cried along with the people of this little mountain town. It was nourishing.

The setting for the story takes place in a town such as Blowing Rock, North Carolina (where Jan Karon is from) and it centers around Father Tim, a single sixty-something Episcopalian priest. The book is hilarious as you follow him through his encounters with his parrish and his evolving love story with his next door neighbor who writes children's books. The characters are unforgetable, and there is much wisdom to be gleaned between these pages. It is definitely a spiritual experience. It's one of those books that you put down a moment while reading, and think about what was just said, applying an idea to your own life...or you just put down so you can go get that box of Kleenex and weep awhile before moving onto the next chapter.

You can read an excerpt here.

I even have the companion cookbook and kitchen reader which is wonderful, as all of her books describe the food the residents of the town cook and bring to all of their events! You will be up and making homemade pies and macaroni and cheese in no time.

You might want to take up a sport while reading these books just to keep your weight in check.

Jan Karon's books are like comfort food - they are soothing to the soul and uplifting to the Spirit!

It's That Time of Year

Politics, ugh!

Space Clearing and Feng Shui

Check out Karen Kingston's website. She is the guru of Feng Shui for all types of dwellings. Clearing clutter is a great way to bring in fresh new energy, and this time of year is a great time to do it.

For some reason, Liberty is learning to spit and spit well. He gets a cup, goes to the refrigerator, fills it with water from the door and then goes outside and engages in a full spitting ritual all down the front of his shirt and pants. He comes back in, refills the cup, heads back outside and continues until his clothes are soaked through. To say that this boy has a fascination with water is an understatement. Maybe it is more of a kinship.

At least he learned not to spit in the house. Impressive.

Lib had a great first day back and I spent the morning getting my life back in order. This afternoon he is getting the long overdue haircut I am gearing up for as I write this.

The days are already getting shorter and autumn is now in full swing.

Time to sweep the hearth.

They don't call it Labor Day for nothing

1) Get up late after Lib was up at 2 and 4; realize storm was not bad.
2) Make pancakes and bacon and a gallon of coffee.
3) Make chili to freeze for Lib for school lunches.
4) Make spaghetti to freeze for Lib for school lunches.
5) Can't find the damned gluten free Italian bread crumbs I made for the meatballs, so have to improvise. Apparently out of gluten free bread.
6) Begin graham crackers, realize out of gluten free flour.
7) Begin gf/cf cookies, realize out of eggs.
8) Send husband to store. Publix just opened and they know us personally already.
9) Wash and fold all 18 loads of laundry.
10) Throw out unidentifiable items in fridge/freezer.
11) Liberty bored out of his skull - every item in our bathroom lined up down the hallway.
12) Every toy in Lib's room played with, strewn everywhere.
13) See child start to wipe something on walls...

14) Put on Patsy Cline and make baked beans while Lib dances in the living room and I belt out "Crazy" and "I Fall to Pieces..."

It's 3 PM. I have not even made it to the shower yet and I'm only halfway down my list.

My bright spot at the end of the tunnel: The bus comes tomorrow morning at 7:30 AM.

We'll be ready and waiting.