How about some granola with your butter

Living in this house you learn not to question things sometimes but to just roll with it sometimes. Case in point: This morning I opened the refrigerator to get cream for my coffee. I noticed that the butter tub was sitting on the shelf without the lid.  I also noticed it looked like someone didn’t clean their knife well when using it in the butter.  I figured it was my father again as he likes butter and peanut butter on his toast (dirty butter really does bother me, so does uneven strokes with the knife in it but somethings you just have to let slide when living with others) when I put my cream away I noticed on a different shelf was a lone butter lid (usually one puts the two together when putting them away but again lets not question things) I put the lid on the butter and went on my way. Later that morning mom comes down and tells me what she was served for breakfast. You see for over 20 years (or as long as I can remember) my father has always brought my mom breakfast in bed. It started off on a nice try, with a fresh rose in a vase, usually a fruit plate with the fruit forming a happy face. Yes folks he did this everyday for as long as I can remember. Over the years it has changed a bit. I have not seen the tray in a while, usually the rose doesn’t get past the kitchen sink, and a lot of times some of the fruit is rotten and at times may even stink. I guess once your in your 80′s you loose your sense of  smell as well. Mom is learning to always check things before putting them in her mouth. One morning she even had tomatoes on her plate as her fruit. But back to this mornings breakfast. It seems that this morning my father confused the yoplait container for the butter container and stirred in her granola into the butter and served it. (seems like the consistency would be a little different, but I am not going to ask) mom announced “this is butter!” “It is?” (insert a big duh here) he asked. I asked mom how he handled her bringing this little “mistake” to his attention. Oh he was a good sport about it and laughed, she replied. He found it a lot funnier then last night when out of frustration with the “  TV remote” he told her “it must need new batteries” “no, I don’t think so” mom replied. The phone works just fine, try using the TV remote. Not the first time he has had a hard time turning on the TV with a phone! I really have to give mom some credit here, mom and I are just natural born, sarcastic people. To bite your lip and not make a smart ass comment takes a lot of restrain believe me! We have to hold it in till we see each other and can share.

As the day came to a close, and I was preparing family night dinner, I heard a very loud sawing sound from around the corner (guess my dad found his electric saw he was lost earlier in the day) he got the sudden idea to saw off part of his desk that was in his way. Eighty three years old, no safety glasses, no ventilation in the small hall way he is sawing away, smoke and dust flying all over into the kitchen, filling the laundry area. Yes, I did the brave thing and high tailed it upstairs to tattle as surly mom must not hear and smell what I am as she didn’t come a running. There she was, in bed covering her face just hoping the sound would pass I guess. Ahh, you might want to get your clean laundry out of the laundry room I said. That worked, she came down. No one wanted to say anything to the man with the handsaw so we let him finish and covered up the food, and moved out the once clean laundry. Once he turned the thing off mom hollered ” did you find your safety glasses out there?”  “Oh yes, I did” (do they really think we are stupid or something?) Lucky for mom and I we had my brother there to clarify that she only asked if he found them, not did he wear them.  (ok 3 smart ass people in our family)

Yes, today was just another “normal” day living with the ‘A’ family! So, how about some granola with your butter today?

A is for Amputee

I was thinking today about being an amputee. While I am not an amputee myself, I have learned a lot about it from my youngest son. My son has basically been an amputee for as long as he can remember, since he was a week old. When you don’t know any differently it becomes your ‘normal’. It is the world around us that reminds him he looks different. If I had a dollar for every person who walked into a wall because their head was cranked back staring at my son as we walked by we would be quite wealthy! When my son was little we (being 2 armed parents who thought we knew best) took our son to the best hospital around for kids with missing limbs-The Shrinners Hospital. By age one, our son had a passive arm (a fake arm that didn’t do anything but ward off half of the stares) he wore it well and learned to put it on and take it off by himself.  This arm was completely paid for by the Shrinners. At Christmas time the Shrinners invited us along with other family’s they had helped to a Christmas luncheon. Out of appreciation for what this group does, and how it financially helped us we decided to show our appreciation and attend. Now I’ll be honest, a luncheon with a 4 year old with ADHD and a 2 year old is not my idea of a good time but we went. I am not much for large groups of people I don’t know and it was a very uncomfortable lunch for me and after staying what I felt was an efficient amount of time, we attempted to slip on out.  Oh no, not till after they got their “group picture” of all the “kids” (this is the nice picture of all the handicap kids they helped out that they could hang on their wall) so much for being discreet! Well my 2 year old was not going to wait around for all the kids to get wheeled over and grouped together so 30 minutes later when they were all gathered together someone picked up my son and placed him in the front and center of the group of kids. Now picture this, about a half a dozen older Shrinners with funny looking hats standing in front of a group of handicap kids trying to get them all to smile and my cute little blond hair, blue eyed cutie standing in front past his 20 second opportunity of attention got board and reached over and popped off his arm and decided to chew on the fingers of that several thousand dollar arm paid for by those taking his picture. Now really, what is the right thing to do in this situation? Jump in the middle of the picture and grab his arm away from him and put it back where it goes? Run out the door and pretend he is not my child? I can’t tell you because honestly I don’t even remember what I did. What I do remember was a lot of camera flashes and the fact that from then on out I decided to just appreciate what they do from afar.

I don’t have the heart to let any of them know that by age 3 that boy decided he was better off with one working arm and a stump then some fake arm on the end and we , as two armed parents decided that for one armed decisions we would leave those up to the one-armed family members as they knew better than we did.

It’s good to know people in high places!

For the last year and a half my family has been living with my parents. This has been both a challenge and entertaining at times. My father has Alzheimers and unless you have lived with someone with it I don’t think anyone can truly understand what it is like. Each day brings laughs , challenges, and frustrations. I think sometimes if I told any one person what it was like in this house each day they would never believe me.

Today I was beginning to prepare dinner. It was one of those rare times where everyone was busy doing something by themselves and it was quite (this doesn’t happen often) My oldest was sitting at the kitchen table working on Grandmas new computer, my youngest was upstairs playing a video game, mom had a client she was working on (mom is a massage therapist and has a few clients that continue to see her at the home) and Dad was in his office on the phone which is always scary as you never know what kind of trouble he may be getting into that he will forget after he does it. Can I add a note here to say that people who sell time share or vacation packages to people over 80 years should be locked up? talk about taking advantage of the elderly!

I was cutting up items for a salad for dinner when the door bell rang, I answered it and found a familiar looking policeman standing on the porch. “Hey there, how are ya?” I said, thinking maybe he was here to see how I was doing . This just happened to be the same officer who came to our house a few years ago when we had a break in and I have run into him many times since at church and he always asks me how it its going etc. “Someone here called 911 and hung up” was his reply. You can imagine my surprise to find out he was on business. “I think it must have been my father since he is the only one on the phone, must have been a mistake” I said. “I need to make sure everyone is ok” was his reply back to me. Now I have nothing to hide, and usually I would have welcomed him in the house but several things flashed through my head at that instant. Mom was in the middle of doing a massage and how might that look if I had to bring in the police while she had a naked man on the table, how might that naked man feel if we all walked in while he was getting his massage, and did this officer really have all day to wait while I explained to my father it was him who called him in the first place? At that moment I was relieved when he said “Hey, when did you move in here?”  (this is the point I thank God for the gift of Gab I have) I told him the whole story of renting out our house, moving in with my parents, and of coarse my father having Alzheimers and how “I bet you get a lot of  mistaken 911 hang up calls with Alzhemers people” He smiled and laughed and said yes they do and decided  things were under control here  and he would be on his way (without the poor timing house tour) and left.

Later, when my father got off the phone , I told him that it was the police at the door and that he had dialed 911 and hung up. “Why would I do that?” was his reply. “I don’t know why you would do that” was my answer .  “I called 911?” he said “Yes you did, and they came to make sure you were ok” I said. “I don’t know why I would do that” Why did I do that? Ok, I am stepping out of this conversation now as the circles we are going in are making me dizzy and I am starting to question my own sanity.

I’m still not sure what he was doing on the phone today, I can only hope  he didn’t sign up for anything, buy anything, agree to anything, or that in the future no numbers he calls start with the numbers 911 ! For today I am just thinking it is good to know people in high places so that I was able to avoid an even bigger story today!

Autism and embarressment

I was thinking the other day about how when you are the mother of a child with autism you can either live your life feeling like you want to dig a hole and hide in it, or you learn to not get embarrassed easily. Case in point, I have never cared much for those little pet names parents give to body part and their functions. You know the ones, a child will say they need to “go tinkle” or they refer to their “privates” or “their peter” I am a tell it like it is kind of person so when teaching my kids things I gave it the correct name. Our son has a penis, with it he “goes pee” you get the idea. Well I was reminded of the first time my youngest son went to Legree farms on a field trip. He was in public school at the time and I usually went on all the field trips with him. On this particular trip the kids all got to  go on a hay ride.  For my city friends this is a tractor pulling a flatbed covered in hay. It pulled the children to the middle of a field with lots of cows. This really is a cool way to see the cows up close. You see these cows knew when the tractor came up not only was it covered in hay but lots of little hands held out cow treats for them. When the tractor stopped the cows came a running. I for one, noticed how large their slobbery tongues were as they licked the hands feeding them. My son looked at them and shouted “Mom, that cow has 4 penises!!! Without hesitation I replied” no son, those are the utters and that is where milk comes from” I have learned to overcome most embarrassing moments in my life. I guess that is just another thing I can thank Autism for.

Autism and the Dentist

It  started when William was three. I was going to the good parent at least in the area of oral hygiene. After all, you only keep the teeth you brush!  I thought it didn’t matter if he had autism we would go to the dentist every 6 months and he would get used to it and love to go just like I did growing up. I got the book, we read about Mr. Thirsty and Mr. Clean, (hey a social sory for typically developing kids, this is great) I was prepared! Off to see Dr. Jan who turned out really to be a man. We can do this yes we can! In we went and on the chair we did not sit. Through clenched teeth he had his front top teeth examined and scared away 3 or 4 other kids. NowI will say Dr.Jan and his crew were very nice as I apologized all the way out the door.

Six months later, I was determined again, this would be a pleasant experience. We were better prepared this time.  They had us come the special time. Only 1 other child to scare. They were staffed well, 4 assistants just for us. One gal held his left arm, one held his feet, one held his stump and the other his head and I got the pleasure of sitting on my child doggie style. He screamed, yelled, cried and blew snot everywhere. Oh it was just like the great experience I pictured in my mind. They have this device that you can cram in a child’s mouth when they scream so that they don’t bit the dentist and are unable to close their mouth, He had his teeth cleaned and examined. I did what every good and holy mother does during this time and I prayed. . . Please God, don’t let my child projectile vomit on these nice people and Please God, don’t let them remember what we look like should we ever run into them in public Amen.

Two years later, same thing and now I am questioning my self as a parent and a human being. Why am I doing this? After all, it’s just teeth so what if they rot and fall out I can just use my extra ABA money and buy dentures. Now I know I am being irrational, I am not even making sense.  My child is now going to be scared for life and will be scared of the letters DDS!

Six months later, I have the routine down, I call give them my name, I spell it out (as if they don’t know darn good and well who we are) I remind them I have a child with autism (yea like they ever will forget that) we now get the special room by ourselves, the people are still very nice and reassuring to me that its ok and he will get used to it. They say it will just click with him some day (now I know they have been sniffing the gas before we get there we see Dr. Will, the new dentist (ok is this a joke on Dr. Will? Is this how they break in the new guy? Did we drive Dr.Jan crazy?) I resume position along with everyone else. The ordeal is almost over, I drop my head in pure exhaustion. Oh it can’t be, yes it is, my boobs have escaped my tee shirt!! I forgot the high cut shirt in my hurry to get out the door. This is not how I wanted to break in the new guy! I will pretend I didn’t see that and maybe just maybe no one else saw it eaither.

William is now 6 and a half and we went to the dentist yesterday. We are back to seeing Dr. Jan. I sometimes wonder what the ten hand written pages in his file say. Maybe these are the things a mother should never see. I can only hope he does well and doesn’t shout at everyone. We get the new assistant (so this is how they break in the new people) she says  “Hi William, I’m Sharon” he says “Hi Sharon, I’m William”. He climbs up in the chair and turns his head to the assistant working on the child next to him and say’s “What’s your name?” she answers and then turns to tears and tells me later I’m so glad he asked my name that means he doesn’t remember me holding him down! Well the cleaning went very well, he answered all her questions truthfully. Do you brush? Sometimes. Do you floss? No How old are you? 6 etc. etc. He was laughing, talking , sharing with the kids around him. (is that pride I see in his eyes?) now I will say he still does not like Mr.Thirsty. When Mr.Thirsty came out he looked at it and said “I don’t like that” so he spits in a cup. This is a  reasonable  accommodation. He did so well I walked away to check on his brother. I can hear William as he is counting steps as he steps up to the x-ray machine. They took 4 different x-rays!! William say’s for all of the office to hear “Can I come to the dentist again?” My answer, YES we can!! As I waited for his brother to finish I lost William for a brief moment, I found him leaning over some poor girl getting her teeth worked on and he shouts to me  ” Hey mom, I’m looking at this girls teeth” And guess what everyone? No cavity’s! I don’t believe he is scared for life, I will not be buying child dentures, we are and continue to be welcome at Dr.Jan’s, there have not been any more appearances from my boobs and the nw guy is still there. There IS hope for the dentist!! Keep on trying, it will get better! And if your new in town and looking for a great child’s dentist, Dr.Jan with Kids teeth is the best!

Written by me in 2006

Things can change moment to moment. . .

Tonight we decided to have dinner on Sullivan’s Island at a new place called Taco Mamacita. I highly recommend the  nacho’s but be prepared to share them as it is too much for just one person. Since Dave is working nights, my parents and I and my two boys went. We had a great dinner and then when we left as we were approaching the draw bridge I saw the lights go red and knew we would be there for a good 20 minutes while we waited for a very slow container ship to pass by. As luck would have it it was a wonderfully cool night and the sun was setting just below the march. We parked the car and got out and took pictures of the beatiful sunset.

The smell of the marsh and salt water was heavenly! It was one of those moments were you think life just couldn’t be better.  After enjoying the view for a while and watching the ship pass we got back in the car and continued home. From the back seat my 11 year old said “Holy Crap, there is bug in here” I reminded him how the word “crap” was not a very nice word and explained how if was offensive to some people. Grandma chimed in and said how it was really another word for poop and was not very nice and my son reluctantly said ok he wouldn’t say it. About half way home my same son announces he has to go to the bathroom, I let him know we were almost home. “I know, but I really have to go” he said. “Do you want me to pull over right now so you can go?” I asked, quite sure he would say no and quit talking about it.  “no, I think I can hold it just a little longer. Can I poop on the side of the road too?” he asked me. I now had a better understanding of the situation in the pack seat. No, I said, I am almost home and you can hold it just a little longer. I sped up just a little at this point, considering the preciousness of others in my car. Suddenly from the back seat he yells “On man, I have to CRAP now!” Trying so hard to watch the road and hold in my laughter I could not reply to his correct usage of the word crap so Grandma jumped in and said “It’s ok, you can use the word crap  as long as your using the word as a noun”.  Suddenly from the back seat we hear “oh man, I can feel it on my shorts” It was about that time that all memory’s of  the sweet smell of marsh and saltwater were instantly gone and the smell of . . .  well crap filled the car. Down came all the windows as we raced into the subdivision, opened the garage door and let my son out of the car first. He ran into the house holding his little behind together as we no longer were able to hold in the laughter and watched him sprint into the house with the round wet stain starting to show through his shorts! Later my son yells from the bathroom “I feel a thousand percent better now”!  I am so glad children with autism don’t hold anything back, I would have nothing to write about if they did!

Hello world!

Well I finally did it! I am sitting here and learning how to do this blog thing. I have thought about doing this for a long time. I have said for years that some day I need to write a book with all the stories of things that have happened in my life. There are many day’s I say to myself no one would ever believe it unless they lived with it. I also know that if I don’t start writing these things down I will start to forget them. I guess blogging is kinda like scrapbooking. I will just have to start with the present and go back.

I will start with a little about the title. I have two boys, currently they are 11 and 13. My oldest has an extreme case of  ADHD and is a combination of both types. My youngest son has Autism and happens to be an Amputee. Living with them has been an adventure to say the least. If  life was not crazy enough with that, a year and a half ago we were forced to move in with my parents due to job loss and the economy. Don’t get me wrong, this was not a totally bad thing as I have a fantastic relationship with my mother and living with her really is fun. My stepfather (who is 83) was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s after we moved in here however we have seen the signs for a while now.  With my husband working or sleeping most of the time, that leaves mom and I with the ‘A’ people. There are some day’s we ask ourselves is really them or us going crazy? There are many day’s we end up playing the “who’s on second” game and try to wrap our brains around how someone who thinks differently is thinking. Many days we have two choices, cry or laugh. The laughing is much more fun but usually comes after the crying or when re-telling the story which is always more humorous after it happens.

My hope is to be able to share the good, the bad, the ugly and even some helpful tips along the way. I want to be as honest as possible but know I am only sharing my point of view and what it is like being me. I hope others can either learn from my experiences or at least get a good laugh for the day.

Thanks for reading!