Double Digits

Since Liam loves numbers, I thought it only fitting to share that he achieved double digits at the end of May. The big one-oh. On the day of, we returned to his favorite place, with a new friend from Urban Homeschoolers, Jasmine. Universal Studios gave him a birthday pin and he got lots of special treatment, from being invited up to do the show in Olivander's Wand Shop to front of line passes for his favorite rides.

On the weekend, we had a party with a theme Liam chose - a Goombirthday Party.  Temperatures soared over 90 degrees (and our back patio is all concrete), sooooo the outside party I'd planned was quickly re-invented as an inside party. We had 9 kids and 11 adults in our little house. I set-up t-shirt painting using drawstring garbage bags as aprons and larger, cut-open lawn and leaf bags as a dropcloth in our newly-airconditioned sunroom.

Around the house we set up "Goomballoons" - balloons with sets of eyes I drew, attached with double sided tape and mouths drawn on with a sharpee to look like Goombas from Mario Brothers. Brown cake plates were cut for feet. Liam created a Goomba cake topper too.

After the planned activity in the sunroom, which is usually our gym, the kids spotted the mini-tramploine leaning against the wall. John helped break down the tables and chairs and what started as a "bounce-off" turned into a full cage match. The girls at the party are both studying Krav Maga, so they were in the mix too (and kicking the boys' butts, by all accounts). In the end, my husband had a pile of kids on him, all trying to do a takedown. By that point, Liam had retreated to his room, as he had off and on throughout the party. He never minded kids coming in and joining him there, but I think the chaos of so many people kept him out of the mix.

For the record, it was Liam who insisted on a party. And ironically, every year, he insists on having a cake, which he never eats. I think he just associates birthdays with blowing out candles on a nicely decorated cake while everyone sings "Happy Birthday." And so we did. This year, I picked the cake - Chocolate Grand-Marnier Mousse from the best cake-shop in town - Porto's Bakery. The kids may have come for the shirt painting and cage match, but the grownups come for that cake!

And I know it was a great party. Because I forgot to take a single picture of it. That's right. Not one picture! Later, John and I joked about the Louie CK routine about parents watching their childrens' recital through the lens of a video camera,"Check out the definition of the live performance - it's incredible!"

There may have been no pictures, but I got several wonderful take-aways from that day.

1) Our friends are awesome. The people at that party came from many different areas of our lives and they all meshed together so nicely.

2) Liam is different than other kids, and kids are cool with that. There is something about Liam that engenders acceptance and kindness in kids around him. Liam recently got hooked on singing old nursery rhymes and was singing a few during the party. Instead of teasing a 10 year old for singing kiddie songs, the others joined right in!

3)  Planned things are fun, but unplanned things are even better. I was a little worried that I wouldn't have enough in our wee space to entertain the kids. I forgot how easily a group of kids can make their own fun.

After the party ended, we left the Goomballoons to gradually deflate and have enjoyed watching their expressions change. Here is all that is left of a happy, 10th Goombirthday!

Happy birthday, kid!

Free-Falling

Bringing a child into the world was amazing and terrifying.  Holding a new life in my arms, I was overwhelmed by feelings of love, protectiveness, devotion and the sudden, jolting realization that I had brought both life and death into the world.  After all, we can only promise one thing about life, that it will end.  His life, my husband's life, my life are finite.  What could I give him between the entry and exit points on this trip?

No parent outruns these thoughts.  We all race to provide enough of a foundation, enough education, enough wisdom to see our children off onto a future we may or may not join.  We all feel, from time to time, that we cannot possibly be enough.  And if your child has special needs, there is another, terrifying thought, "what if they CAN'T make it on their own?  What if life claims its promise of us before we can prepare them to make their way, or protect them from those who could harm them if they can't?"

So we run harder, faster from the fear and towards the hope of help from "experts" and those that came before.  Hoping that their answers will be THE answer to see us through.

Early on in the "race," my husband and I started to sense that "fear" and "hope" were far more the enemy than inadequacy.  Our son's brain is unique.  There is no expert who knows him as we do.  Our templates for how life is "supposed to be" and our "hopes" that he could have the lives we've had, needed to be re-examined.  What does HIS life look like?  What does HE love?  What is that thing we are filling in between jumping on and jumping off of this ride?  Do we want a life of constant therapy, working to fit into a school system that we don't see as all that useful, even for typical kids, towards a future we might have wanted for ourselves, but may not be at all useful or happy for him?

It can be hard to walk away from institutions and even well-intentioned friends, family and others "with children like yours" nearly shouting at you that, "you want to do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE for your child, don't you - because look how well it's worked for other people and some people don't even have access to these services and what if he wants to go to college someday and I know someone who did this and their child is graduating with honors now and you have to try gluten-free, chelation, RDI, Dan Protocol, ABA, Special Oils, Occupational Therapy, Speech Therapy, Allergy Testing, or you AREN'T TRYING HARD ENOUGH!"

Enough.

One thing my autistic son is, is very present in his NOW.  He is usually happy in his NOW.  What if we let go of the supports and the voices telling us what we should be doing and let his strengths, joys and struggles guide us?  What would it be like to free-fall?  Scary?  Of course.  But liberating too.  Realizing that there is no ONE WAY to do something - that the ride is as different as each brain is different, is a source of power.

And that may sound lonely, but we've found that there are others walking this path, without judgement, offering friendship and sharing stories to take or leave if it serves us.  Facebook groups like Unschooling Special Needs and Homeschool/Unschool Bloggers offer tips and advice and you can ignore posts that don't fit.  There are blogs by adults on the spectrum that shed light on their personal experiences and what helped or hurt them.

And once you find some like-minded folks, you can even meet some of them in person.  Maybe there will be one group that is great for outings, another that has some learning ideas, or unschooling support.

And you will learn that the eclectic life you create with your child and family in mind, is perfect for you and for them.  And you'll learn to ignore the critics, and those with methodologies too rigid for your needs.  You'll find a community you never knew existed, and a life that is nothing like what you imagined, because you never imagined what free-falling would feel like -  glorious, terrifying, surprisingly fun, sometimes disorienting, but FREE.

For those of you along on this jump - welcome.  If I learn any cool tricks, mid-air, I'll be sure to pass them along.  And you are always welcome to share your own stories, ideas and observations in the comments section.

Allons y!

What I Got For Mother's Day

The short answer to "what did I get for Mother's Day?" is "the stomach flu."  But in fact, I got hit with some life-lessons as well.

These are the things I wish I hadn't learned while curled in a ball in front of the toilet on Mother's Day weekend:

1)  The OxyClean boost in the Arm And Hammer laundry pods really does get out blood stains.

2)  The Dyson vacuum can pick up even the finest shards of glass.

3)  Advanced Formula Nature's Miracle will remove cat urine from wood, carpets and fabric.

4)  I would, without hesitation, voice a commercial for any of the above products.



These are the things I was happy to discover, while considering whether or not I'd need to go to the hospital for dehydration:

1)  My son is brave enough to pour Peroxide on his own wounds.

2)  My son can now empty the dishwasher and handle all aspects of doing the laundry (except folding) all by himself.

3)  My son now has a concept of when someone is feeling crappy and can ask about it.

4) My husband has my back and knows just when to step in and when to back away.

In case you were wondering, here's the expanded version:

With my brain wrapped in cotton, still shaking and sweating from the last, violent bout of vomiting, I staggered into my son's room, drawn by his cries and the sound of something shattering. My son launched into an autistic round of self recrimination and it took me a few moments to swim through the fog to see that his anxiety was not just about a broken coffee cup, but over the cut on his thumb, dripping blood down his arm. While my husband dealt with the broken shards, I steered my son past my my bathroom encampment and offered him hydrogen peroxide, which, after a brief protest, he applied to himself. I opened a bandage and sent him to the living room to await an all-clear on his room, then sank back to my knees on the thick towel before the commode in anticipation of the next round.

Feeling somewhat better the next day, I returned to the encampment to break it down and disinfect the area, when I was knocked back by the strong scent of cat urine, just feet away. My husband's weekend house project had involved installing plastic sheeting around the doorway of his studio, across the hall from the bathroom. Perhaps it was the odd, flappy material, my unavialability, sounds of construction, or just plain, old-age-orneriness that drove the cat to pull down a corner of the plastic sheet and pee in such a way as to saturate the hardwood floor, doorjamb and studio curtain. I grabbed what was left of a gallon of Nature's Miracle and poured it everywhere, using a microfiber cloth to work it into the floor and door jamb, pulled down the curtain for a pre-soak, then washed it on "sanitize" setting (using more Nature's Miracle as detergent). My husband hauled the plastic to the garbage for immediate disposal. I briefly entertained the fantasy of including the cat in that package.

My son's thumb, the hardwood floors, my stomach and the cat are all perfectly fine now.

But the biggest lesson for Mom was:

Let the guys do more.  They can.  Be less available sometimes (not just when it's physically impossible). And always, ALWAYS keep a sense of humor.

It was a terrible weekend, but it makes for a great story, giving me a Mother's Day where my family took care of themselves - and me.

I also got these flowers!

Real Magic

Nothing has quite ignited Liam's imagination like The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios, Hollywood.  It is the only place Liam has repeatedly asked to go.  He loves to take his wand and do the magic that makes the animations work in the shop windows at Hogsmeade.  Since there are a limited number of spells, I thought it would be fun to invent some easy ones to use on the staff (if they were up for playing along).

This morning, I thought about simple commands like "laugh," "sneeze," and "hop like a frog" and looked up their Latin translations.  I presented the new spells to Liam with accompanying wand movements.  He loved them and added them to the leather-bound "Ravensclaw" spell book that we got on our last trip.  Below are the spells he remembered from Universal and wrote in his book, including the placards in front of each window, as well as our "original spells."  He did the work all on his own and added drawings and descriptions of what the spells did.

This spell makes a large Quiddich ball levitate.

This spell makes a bubbling cauldron stop making the bubbling noise.

This spell makes wind blow, which plays a number of wind instruments and stirs sheet music.

This spell reveals a chocolate frog in the window of the candy shop.  The frog coaks and wiggles!

This spell lights lamps.

And this one makes plants grow and move!

This is one of Liam's favorites.  It makes the cakes spin on plates.  The second spell stops the motion.

This spell stops a pen from writing in mid-air.

This spell unlocks a box and all of the draws slide open.

This spell makes a dress-maker's measuring tape rise and fall in the shop window.

This spell animates a music box with a dragon chasing Harry.

The wizard in Olivander's Wand Shop used this in his show.  It watered a flower.

Here's the first spell I wrote - it makes someone dance.  The second spell stops it.

This is another original.  It makes a person sneeze.  The second spell stops it.

This is a fun one.  It makes a person jump like a frog.  Second spell stops it.

This is a laughing spell.  Second spell stops the laughter.

The full spell here is "Rhyme Loqui,"  which makes a person rhyme with everything you say.  "Prosia" lets them speak normally again.

The local wizards were playful and willing to let Liam cast his simple spells on them.  And we met two young men who were also doing a circuit of magical spells.  One was a park employee who went by the name of "Wolfman" (his costume during Halloween Horror Nights) and his friend, Ben.  Both were obvious Harry Potter fans and among the many, I've learned, who come JUST to cast spells, like Liam.  

 Wolfman had a similar book to Liam's with more elaborate drawings and spells from the movies and books and even some originals.  We traveled together for a while and Ben asked what Liam enjoyed doing. When I told him he was very into special effects and had taught himself how to use Adobe After Effects, Ben revealed that he was learning the same thing (and joked that he could use Liam as a tutor).  I wished I had gotten a contact, so we could come back when Wolfman was doing his studio tour, but I have a feeling we'll meet this pair again.

Meeting Ben and Wolfman doing the same things that Liam loves to do, made me feel that we were moving closer to Liam finding his "tribe" and his path in life.  Sweet, friendly, talented geeks with strong passions and generous hearts.  The spells may just be special effects, but the magic of making connections was as real as it gets.

Ventus!

We live in a magical neighborhood.  Literally.  We live within walking distance of Universal Studios,  Hollywood and the new "Wizarding World of Harry Potter."  As subscribers to the "Globe Partner" program offered by Universal to residents within a few blocks of the park, we are invited to previews of new attractions.  So, I was excited when we finally got the invitation for a preview of the new Harry Potter wing.

Liam isn't much into watching movies at home, but he had never seen any of the Harry Potter movies, so I decided to rent the first one from Pay-Per-View before we went.  We managed half of the movie before our preview, but that was enough for him to see the world we'd be entering, and become familiar with things like chocolate frogs, wands and spells.

Our first trip was with a friend.  We rode the rides and went into the wand shop to see the show and purchase wands.  I learned, to my delight, that the wands were fitted with a sensor in the tip, which activated "magic" in twelve of the shop windows, when you moved them in a certain pattern with the "magic words."  The kids were smitten with spell casting and I got great shots of them being helped by friendly wizards, who are stationed near the windows (the sensors are very picky and don't accept any old wand waving!)

This is the wizard that stayed with us when Liam strayed.  I was able to thank him personally on our next visit.

As I was taking a video of Liam's friend, he dashed off to a previous window, without telling us.  This triggered my worst fear.  By the time he dashed off, the area had been opened to the general park attendees and there was a sea of people around me.  I am 4'11" tall.  I hate crowds with a passion BECAUSE I can't see past them.  I swallowed down the panic in my chest while my 6'2" husband scanned over the crowd.

It only took about a minute and a half for my husband to spot Liam in his bright yellow hat (he will forever wear that hat at the park).  As I heard him say, "there he is" and dash through the crowd, I heard the voice of one of the friendly wizards at my left elbow.  "Did you find him?"  He must have followed us.  I knew then that a whole series of "lost child" protocols were about to go into play if the answer had been "no."  Fortunately, the answer was "yes, thank you!"

A week later, Liam said, "I want to go back to Harry Potter to do spells."  In the intervening week, he'd been practicing his spells on us as we tried our best to repeat the animation in the windows.  I had just renewed our season passes and was thrilled to take him back.  We got up and got ready to head to the park just after opening.

"Should we get the ride pass? (the disability access pass that allows us to come back later for rides with a really long line).  "No," he said, "just spells today."  I was thrilled that 1) he was able to be so super-specific about what he wanted and 2) that we live so close that we could go to the park for just an hour or so and it wouldn't feel like a park-day wasted.  He made the spell-casting circuit several times. By the end he had become an expert wizard, and he'd also learned a few more important lessons:

How to handle waiting your turn, when there is no CLEAR line - the markers for the spells are in random places and people don't really form a "line" so much as just gather around.  He needs to learn to be aware of signals that others want to play (Are their wands out? Were they there before you got there?).

Listening to instructions - The wizards that assist with spells give very specific physical instructions.  Because there are lots of people waiting, you need to listen and do your best to follow, so the spell works and someone else can have a turn.

He loved mastering the spells!

Learning to TELL YOUR PARENTS when you want to go to a different place and to TAKE THEM WITH YOU.  The older Liam gets, the more independence he wants.  Being outside of a controlled school situation means that the boundaries are far broader and the need to communicate before heading off is even greater.

On that last point, I realize that I have lessons to learn as well. We need to learn to trust each other.  He's more likely to tell me what he wants to do, if he knows I won't stop him.  So when he wants to climb a tree, ride a bike or run around the track on his own, like any 10 yr. old, I need to let him.  Watch him - yes, but riddle him with cautionary advice or look worried - no.  In addition to living near a theme park, we also live near two parks with great climbing trees.

Time to let the wind blow through the trees - or as they say in Hogsmeade, "Ventus!"

Here Be Monsters

One of the things we are working on daily, is Liam's ability to communicate the idea of "why."  Although he clearly understands the concept of cause and effect, he's usually unable to articulate anything beyond the most direct physical observation (ie: Question: "why is the table wet?" Answer: "because I spilled the mug.")

Today we were driving home from Urban Homeschoolers and I took an earlier off-ramp than usual, to make a stop at Trader Joe's.  I was surprised when Liam piped up from the back seat, "that's the wrong way!" 

I explained that we had to go to the store before we went home.  As we traveled down Alameda Ave., I glanced back to see that he was laying sideways in the seat (as far as the belt would allow).  This isn't the first time he's done that on this particular stretch of road.

"Why do you hide when we are in Toluca Lake?"

"I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

No answer.

Later this evening, I heard a yelp from Liam's bedroom where he had been playing on his computer.  It was the kind of high-pitched squeal reserved for moments of pain or peak frustration, so we ran to his room. 

Once again, we tried asking what had happened. 

"I didn't like it."

"What didn't you like?"

"I cry when I don't like it."

"I see that you are upset.  What made you sad?"

Eventually, we teased out that something in the video he had been watching had disturbed him.  I guessed it was the baby crying - he is really bothered by babies crying. 

"Today has had a lot of scary things, hasn't it?"  I offered.  I was hoping that a little time might have allowed Liam to be able to talk about hiding out in the car.

"First there was a fly in science class, then you hid in the car in Toluca Lake and now this."

At the words, "Toluca Lake,"  Liam's eyes grew wide and he ran to me to give me a hug and keep me from going any further.  "Don't talk about it!" 

"OK.  I just wondered why you are scared of Toluca Lake."

"Toluca Lake is a monster."

"A monster?"  I ran through a mental roadmap of the area, trying to imagine what "monster" he had seen and then it made sense.  "Does the statue in front of Bob's Big Boy creep you out?"

From his reaction, I could see I'd hit a nerve.  I remembered that he always ducked down just before we reached the historic Big Boy's with the giant statue of a hamburger wielding Bob.

I don't blame him.  It is a creepy statue. 

It was a tiny, but important step - being able to tell me a detail about what scared him.  But at last, I've solved the mystery of the Toluca Lake Monster!