I'm Glad Their Priorities are Straight...

I debated posting this, since it was so short, and since I should really be focusing on the current financial crisis and the bailout proposal. But since Sen. McCain can debate tonight, I guess I can post a quick post:

Linda got a call from the school today, went something like this:

"Yes, Linda, this is the nurse from Grace's school. We wanted to let you know that Grace ate a piece of crayon today. But please, rest assured that they ARE Gluten/Casein free. Another child had eaten a whole crayon and her mother checked up on it and found out they are indeed GF/CF."

I'm just glad to see that we first have them properly trained on GF/CF protocol and that they are working hard to make sure that all foreign objects my children eat will meet their dietary requirements. I'll also be happy if they minimize stimming on bagel knives and redirecting fixations on small house fires...

More Sleep Deprivation

I scanned back through my old blogs to see how long it's been since I complained about not getting enough sleep. It's been long enough, time to vent again:

The past month, basically since before school started, we've been having the tag team twins of early morning madness keeping us on our toes (and stubbing them in the dark!). It seems like the past 3 weeks it has been every...single...night. Sometimes, it's Liv; other times it's Grace. Sometimes, one kicks off the other and we get both in the ring at the same time (I have to check the WWE rulebook, I'm sure two in the ring at the same time is not allowed).

All this leads to some pretty unorthodox sleeping arrangements. Grace is a restless sleeper and it's not uncommon for her foot to wind up in my face or for her to fall asleep sprawled out over the both of us. Our remedy is to send her out to the living room on a kid's futon with Linda on the couch. On more than one occasion I wake Linda up in the morning, looking for Grace, only to realize that she's curled up at her head like a cat or scrunched behind her wedged like a puppy in a brood.

Liv is another animal. We do have and use Clonidine to calm her down if she wakes up, but we like to leave a gap of at least 4 hours before she has to wake up. So before 3:30, we can use it, after that; one of us has to deal with her antics because she will often go 2-3 hours before konking out. I'm usually the one taking the hit on that, Linda escapes to the couch. It's interesting trying to sleep while holding on to a toe or holding her in place. Interestingly enough, she has the most 'pop outs' during the night and she will frequently go through her list of words she knows and I will respond in kind. "Da da, juuu" "No, I'm sorry honey no juice, go back to sleep".

The only other saving grace is that Liv will not open the door and come out. Grace though, will open the door and will request the door be open whenever she's conscious. So, it'll be Grace that will show up at our door in the middle of the night like a ghost. Liv will just take advantage of the opportunity to get out as well. Her preference though, is to go in the living room and turn on the lights and TV (THAT'S a wild wake-up call!).

A week or two ago, I heard Liv on the monitor, went to open the door, only to find both up like Pop Tarts (uh ooh better explain that reference to a link, in case Pop Tarts are not a global thingy). I stood there for a minute trying to get my logistical brain to function. "Two girls up, where should Livie go? Is it past 3:30? Are there any potty accidents to consider?". I can't remember much about that night, I only know that Linda and I had two different bedmates in the morning...

It really sets a bad tone in the morning, being down 2-3 hours, especially when Linda has her bursts of energy after they go to bed and winds up staying up late catching up. This morning, it was Grace who was up at 5; getting her to rise at 7:15 is like raising the dead, since she can sleep on anything in any position. I took away her blankets...no movement. I stood her up; she leans back on the couch and sleeps half standing. Finally the thing that aroused her was "Grace, do you want pink game?" Grace is absolutely addicted to Nintendo DS and we try to limit her; but these are the occasions you hold it back for, and we did get her up and ready for the school bus.

Sometimes there are reasons, like Grace having an ear infection 3 weeks ago; sometimes we just scratch our heads as to why and what is causing them to wake up. We certainly hope that it's just a restless spirit and not a pain and discomfort reason. What makes it difficult is always the lack of communication to tell us when there is something really wrong; when it's just a nightmare, or a bathroom urge or a thirst or whatever. Jason will wake up probably more than once a month, but we usually get the scoop (although sometimes he's a walking zombie talking nonsense).

Humina Swajusay Huh?

I'd like to take comic license on a recent conversation with our insurance company. The conversation isn't entirely true, but the gist is here:

We had found out in the summer about a program where another insurance company was offering grants to help pay for therapy expenses not covered by our insurance company. We applied for a grant to cover Liv's occupational therapies, since they don't consider covering 'chronic' conditions. The deadline for completion was September 30th and we submitted around the 4th of July. We received notification in the beginning of September that grant needed amongst other things, a denial letter for Liv's apraxia, since that is how we worded the application, we only had a denial for autism.

NEVER throw down the gauntlet in front of my wife. Less than 30 days, getting the required paperwork. Coordination and insurance document acquisition is her specialty. Got the info from the Ped Neurologist, from the therapist; got a package of all the info needed to send to the insurance company and sent out the fax; probably took less than a week. Now comes the fun part; the call from the completely baffled clerk who wound up with this on her desk:


Ins Clerk: Hello, yes I'm calling about the fax we received yesterday regarding your daughter, Olivia
Linda: Yes
Ins Clerk: I wanted to let you know that we have to send this in for review, but occupational therapies are not usually covered for chronic conditions.
Linda:Yes, I know that I was looking for you to deny it.
Ins Clerk: I'm sorry, you want us to deny this? (Clearly, 'thank you sir, may I have another' is not covered in the "How to screw the Client" manual)
Linda: Yes, I am 99% sure you will deny this, we need a denial letter in order to apply for a grant for non-covered insurance expenses. We need it quickly as we have a Sept 30 deadline to apply.
Ins Clerk: We I uh....the review process has to go to another department and it usually takes 10-15 business days.
Linda: That's if you are evaluating it on whether it is going to be covered, I'm asking that you DENY it. (I mean, this is something that they do with deadly efficiency normally; it's page one of the playbook: DENY)
Ins Clerk: I'll see if I can get the adjuster to look at it, you DO want it denied, right?
Linda (somewhat exasperated, but remaining cool): Listen, you can either PAY it or deny it. Since I'm almost certain you are going to deny it, I only ask that you do it quickly (Lady, I'm painting a target on my chest and yelling 'KILL ME NOW', just do it!)
Ins Clerk: Well, uh, alright, I'll give you a call back

She gets the call back yesterday to say that indeed they were denying it (sorry, I don't have the strength to try and reproduce the conversation between the clerk and the adjuster). We're awaiting a fax copy of the letter. Of course, it's delayed, you couldn't expect them to have reprisocity ( I have to leave that bad spelling of reciprocity in, it made me laugh!) and make OUR lives easier after giving THEM such a slow pitch!

My wife is currently reviewing back issue of Soldier of Fortune Magazine, in case these yo yo's screw this up. It's bad enough that they don't give me THEIR money, but if they deny us the ability to get money from others WATCH OUT!

It was a day like any/no other...

It was a starkly beautiful day, blue on blue skies probably average for the time of year. It was primary day I remember. I was in the throws of the latest project at work, whatever it must have been. I remember the internet was unusually slow as I tried to find out about what my wife had called me about. Pictures were just starting to become available on the internet, in a format that didn't take 2 hours to load at least. I remember hearing more and realizing that something was terribly wrong.

I remember the person who told me the South Tower had collapsed; I remember telling people about the Pentagon. I remember them calling us into the largest meeting room we had and saying we should all go home, be safe...and pray.

When I got home, I remember finding a dead kitten in the road in front of our house and being so numb to it as I moved it into the bushes. I remember telling my kids what had happened and saying that what happened today could never be underestimated. I worried about my family, they country and the world.

I remember all the firefighters, so many firefighters, that were lost. I remember the candle I set out on a rock outside every night for days on end in the hopes that it might help find someone alive in the rubble. I remember finding out about Father Mychal Judge from the picture of him being carried out of the rubble; the priest only trying to minister to the injured and giving last rights to the firefighters he worked with. I saw hundreds upon hundreds of picture that disturbed me to the bone; of the attack, of the people, of the masses of humanity dazed, bewildered and obviously changed.

I remember the quiet at night from the lack of planes in the sky over the following weeks. I remember the static I heard instead of radio station which had lost their signal that was on the radio tower. I remember the lack of Channel 13 on TV for the same reason and the total lack of commercials for weeks. I remember the eerie quiet at night from the lack of airplane activity, and the times I did hear the sounds of F16's. I remember averting my eyes from the skyline when I drove to spots where I could see a gap in the way I expected to see it.

I guess this is not much of a tribute to those who lost their lives that day, God knows I've never looked at firefighters the same way again. I just wanted to put down what will probably be ingrained in my mind for the rest of my life, for the rest of all our lives. God Bless America and never forget...

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Getting them back to school that is. I really think that song should be reallocated to back to school. Let's start with some random thoughts:

1. Book Sox- anyone want to lynch the person who's marketing these? Between Book Sox and scientific calculators, these two items took up probably the majority of the near 200 dollars we spent at Staples for back to school supplies (OUCH!).
   
2. Nervous/depressed kids- I don't know about any of you adults out there, but in retrospect, I LIKE to learn new things; but my oldest daughter referred to school as a subversive plot to imprison the masses of children this morning.
3. Back to school night- otherwise known in our household as "How are we going to clone ourselves THIS year? I do like to meet the new teachers but, as far as the school systems in our town, we're old pros, not like these 'amateurs' with one or two kids that want to see what the cafeteria looks like. We should have some kind of easy pass where we can go to the front of the line and get out to the next one...
4. Paperwork- The amount of information they are asking from us nowadays borders on encroachment of privacy. If you think one of two kids in school is hard, try 5! Linda was up until one in the morning answering questions on the 'getting to know you' page like 'what's your child's favorite TV show.' Grace's teacher wants BIOGRAPHY! I just think we need in boxes and outboxes; I know, my office mentality showing.

Well good news is that the girls are in a school with good programs, Jason's in LOVE with his teacher (shhh, don't say we told!); Aly's has all her friends in the same lunch; and Dillan yet again has an opportunity to become Mr Popularity (he only knows a couple of kids from previous years, but this kid gets along with ANYONE, he'd make friends with the Grinch after 3 weeks in class).

Linda has 5 glorious hours of freedom between when the last one leaves and the first one gets back. Of course the law of linear sicknesses will have at least one kid home roughly half the school year, but we won't reminder her of that eventuality. Heck, we might even get caught up before the fist wave starts. Hope your school start is going as well as ours, and those without kids can stop laughing now, yea, nothing to do and all day to do it...hammock comfy?

N'orleans

Obviously we pray that all people will stay out of harms way as Gustav looks to be heading towards LA. But, if it's possible to pray for a city, New Orleans needs all the help it can get. I fear this may be a death nell for the city. I'm not so sure that Katrina and Gustav are just devastating coincidences, and we might be seeing the beginning of the end of this major Gulf Coast city.

Bring on the New School Year

We're on vacation this week. So far we've been on vacation from two things you would not expect. We were on vacation from electrical power on Sunday for 7 hours; we've also been on vacation from normal sleep patterns as BOTH girls have been waking up at night. Lucky for us, we can adjust OUR sleep patterns and get our full 6 or 7 or 8 hours of sleep.

This week is also the week of testing the new schedule. We have them both in camp from 9 to 1. It's incredible what you can get done in that amount of time. Linda has the potential to get at LEAST a 9-2 out of the fall schedule as both Liv and Grace will be in the same school. I may have mentioned that this is the longest break Linda has had since Jason was...wait since Dillan was... since Aly was...heck EVER! This is going to be a monster year for determining whether we can get enough hours out of the day having both in full time classrooms. A whole buncha new things are coming in 08-09 but that is the key. 5 hours of freedom to get done what needs to be done. 5 hours to see whether the 'base' of their education/therapies will be good or bad. School is where all drives from; if we get good teachers and aids and therapists, we KNOW we have good private therapists, so things will go well, but we need that good base to launch from.

Yes 2008/2009 will decide much in what we do and how we do it. The other three are in a steady state; same schools, basic same routine. But Grace and Liv drive the mood and tenor in the house; where they succeed or fail the rest of our mood/household follows. If may sound extreme, but it IS 40% of our children and a larger % of our efforts. May your year go half as well as I expect our year to go....

TOOK A LEAP...

Some may think that a night out with the family is no big deal. But when you are seven and two are autistic, a night out with all seven of us has NEVER occurred. All that changed last night thanks to an organization called POAC and a restaurant in Aberdeen NJ called The Court Jester. Forget that we barely FIT all of us in the minivan, forget that any number of things could have set the girls off. I walked into this restaurant expecting to explain "Well YOU invites US" and having at least two of the family waiting for the rest in the van at the end of the night.

Well the evening went off without a hitch. Hardly an outburst from either child; no major fighting between the older three. People coming around every now and again willing to take a child off our hands to entertain them while we eat. It was great to have volunteers from both POAC and New Horizons in Autism there willing to help out. A gluten free menu was available, although we had backup food which proved to also be a lifesaver since both rejected the fair.

What was really great was the sense of community I got out of the experience. We are somewhat isolated in who we interact with; we really only see parents and children in our own age group at the current school. It was nice to see varying ages of autistics, from toddlers to adults all enjoying themselves. It went so well we thought why we hadn't done this in a 'real' restaurant. But I think having that ability to let our hair down, have an occasional 'whoop' come out of Liv, that a sense of worry might have affected our mood and made it more probable that a meltdown would occur. It's a shame that people in the 'real' world can't get over their need for quiet, perfect enjoyment of their evening to accommodate our differences.

Speaking of, one of Grace's aids was there and almost didn't recognize her. You see, last week we had a bit of an incident where a pair of scissors went missing and Grace decided it was time for a makeover. Thank goodness no major accident occurred, but the styling job she did on her hair left much to be desired. She has 1 inch long bangs now and a good sized gash of hair missing from one side. It took a professional to get her to the point where she did not look like a train wreck, but no one in their right mind would have chosen her current 'bob', to put it euphemistically.

So, we may now have a once a month date at this restaurant since they are planning to do this monthly. Hope to see you there...

DAD'S TAXI SERVICE

WOW, almost two weeks without a post! But between my physical therapies during the week and just stuff backing up over the girls being done with summer school, times are tough for free time.

This weekend was sort of a blur, but refreshing because I actually got out of the house a couple of times. The first was yet another excursion into the paranormal. No really, ghost hunting has become a hobby. It's cheap (put out maybe 100$ for equipment and 20$ for a lifetime membership to the NJ Ghosthunters Society; it's conveinient...the cemetary investigations start right around when the girls go to bed; and it lets me utilize my internet investigation techniques to find out about various histories of the area around Monmouth County. Won't get into it all here, maybe I'll start a new blog, rather than clutter my autism blog.

But the real fun started on Sunday morning. Liv has been housebound for several weekends, I had been worried about my ability to lift her over these last few weeks so we hadn't gotten out. Grace was stricken with an ear infection that we discovered on Saturday (and that *I* was the one to push to have her go to the doctors for once). I'm gearing up for the afternoon around 1:00. Aly had been pushing to hang out with her friend, she gets hold of her and decide to go to the movies. 2:10 showing, I have to shower, but I can make it. 1:30 getting set to go, packing Liv to take her along. Dillan gets a call from his friend...playdate at the friends house. OK, I can drop him off first, tell them you'll be over in 10 minutes. Get a little delayed, call Dillan's friend shift that to 1/2 hour. Pick up Aly's friend, drop off at the movies; drop off Dillan. I am now free to roam about the county for the next hour and a half.

Things didn't go as planned for me and Liv. Local bay-front, Laurence Harbor...packed to the gills, both parking lots; swing back around to Keyport, flea market, that lot's packed too. I remember a dirt road back around Union Beach from my travels and decide to take a chance. A quarter mile hike on a road lined with reeds yielded a neat little outcropping on the bay during low tide. We got to wade through gentle flowing water and tide pools full of little fishes, seaweed and hermit crabs. She has a lot of her sensory issues in her feet so the varying sand softness, the shells and water were just to her liking. Fisherman wading 100 yards out into the shallows, a Mexican family clam hunting in the reeds, a photographer taking shots of the scenery and dozens of sailboats dotting the bay and it was a nice little distraction we had to leave all too soon.

Back into the car to pick up the girls at the movies; drop off at her friend's house. Hit up a new take out place for a menu, check out a new supemarket in the area. Back to get Dillan, head home for the dinner break, then back out for my final pickup of Aly. The 1 to 9 shift is finally over.

Certainly not the day I had planned, but all in all a great tour of my local Bayshore area...and I wore Livie out with her being a co-pilot...

DOORS

Reading through my last post, I realize that there is a back story about something that is critical in the lives of, not only parents of autistics, but of parents in general...and that includes those of you who are parents to the four-legged variety (all living breathing beings for that matter). Doors play a critical role in all our lives; I'm not sure if they play a more critical role in our household...you be 'da judge.



We have 11...no, make that 12 living breathing entities in our house, including the one fish. Each has their own unique needs for containment and/or access to the outside world. Fish, no prob, self contained, we only have to watch out for unwanted intrusions from the 4 felines and Liv who loves to stim on the water. A little duct tape and we're set. Next, felines...so, you have to keep them inside...check, don't leave doors open. They need access to the garage to do their bidness, kitty door...check. Our newest kitten has a little specific incontinence trouble (she likes to pee on bathroom floors), right now she is relegated to our room with her own littler box. I think this is where it begins to get complicated.



Bedroom door shut to keep the cat in, that works for the most part, except for the girls. Livie cannot open doors, so we're safe there. Grace, however knows no boundaries, can and will open all doors. I also made the unfortunate mistake of unlocking the bedroom door in front of her. Now she is always on the lookout for coins to unlock the bedroom door. Livie DOES however like to shut doors. They're like a tagteam, Grace is the security expert and Liv is the mastermind. Unlock the door to look for mommie, let the cat out, Liv goes in and shuts the door after. Now, cat is out, Liv is in our room potentially doing damage to our computer or whatever. Luckily, Grace is locked out and complaining; there's our alarm. Get cat in, get Liv out; all is hermetically right with our world.



Now comes the full effect of the human/door/animal interactions of the house. The gate and the doors to the outside world pose the greatest challenges. Grace, the locksmith, has already proven herself many times with her Houdini like (lemme get with the times, Criss Angel-like) escapes. Her two latest accomplishments are using stepstools to get to the front door chain and discovering that there is a back door slider that is sometimes open. That on top of her ability to open the child proof gate and unlock doors and she is virtually unstoppable. Thank Gawd she hasn't discovered she fits through the cat door in the garage! So, in and out of house must include a lockup or a designated lockee for after we leave. Likewise, when someone comes in, the doorbell sounds and someone has to let 'em in. We USED to have the older three go through the back, but Grace is now a threat. Chain, lock or gate undone...BIG trouble for the non-do-er.

At night, we also have special challenges. Since Tim Allen resides in our house, the girls' door does not quite bolt (yea I'll get to moving that latchy thingy next weekend), so unless you close it JUUUUUST right, anyone can leave, and they do. Nothing like having Liv come in our room at 2 am and turn on and off and on and off the light. Or maybe she'll go in the living room and turn on the TV. How about she goes into the bathroom to start the great flood. Or Grace come quietly in the shadows of the room like a gremlin and squeeze in and begin reciting a Big Comfy Couch episode. WE HAVE A JAILBREAK...

I guess, looking at it from the 20,000 foot level, it ain't all that bad, it just seems at times all I do is worry about who's where and what are they doing behind closed doors...or outside of them.

Friggin' Kite Eating Trees

I suppose everyone can relate to Charlie Brown. From the kite eating tree, to the losing-est baseball team, to Lucy pulling the football at just the last minute, we all get to feel that 'nothing's going right' feeling. Well, you are all just posers because, as the line in the X-mas special goes, "of all the Charlie Browns in the world, [I'm] the Charlie Browniest".

My wife asks me why I'm so cranky all the time. "Not right now, per se," she says "but just in general." I gave her one of those blank stares; of course I am cranky, it's one of those things I need to work on: temper and quick frustration threshold are two of my worst traits. " I don't get to have ANY fun, and even when I try, it turns into a disaster!" Then I proceeded into a tirade that I did not perceive to be all THAT funny, but she receives with convulsive hilarity:

"You wanna know why I'm so cranky? You wanna know?" I said in my Kramden-esque voice. I had purchased online last week what I thought was the perfect mid-summer game-booster, something called a Bax Stop, an inflatable back stop for the games the boys have in the cul-de-sac, a game that's combination, stick-ball, wiffle-ball and baseball. They use a big fat plastic bat and a tennis ball; but they always have to use a player as catcher; this inflatable contraption would have put an extra player on the field, and settled balls and strikes to boot. I would be hailed as the grand summer saver, making the summer classic...classic-er. The Bax Stop was not only an incredible bargain at less than half the price it normally sells for, it came with a bonus electric pump making it the deal of the year... as well as being the hit of our little world.

I would suspect you have an idea of where this is going. I inflated it fine, but I spent the better part of 1/2 an hour trying to figure out how to tie the net to the backstop, only to discover that I had missed a critical piece of string that 'tied' the whole thing together. 10 minutes later, the net intact, I make the grand presentation to the gang. Appreciative ooos and aaaahs in front of our driveway...just as I had planned. "Let's bring it over to OUR driveway and get a game started." one of the neighbor's kids said. My good feeling work done for the day, I retire to the garage to find a plumber's 'snake'; Liv has thrown an unidentified object into our toilet, and no amount of plunging has sped up the flow. I need the snake to see if I can push whatever it is through. Ultra-dad AND Bob Villa in one day...could it be possible?

10 minutes pass; no snake in sight. Then Dilan calls from the font door, "Daaaad? The Bax Stop's got a hole innit! I think Jason stepped on it." Across the street I go, with the insider info and accuse Jason without benefit of jury. He bursts into tears, a sure sign of a guilty verdict. Meanwhile, my once virile Bax Stop has become viagra-less; the boys had tried some duct tape, but the patient was not responding. Back to the backyard for the Bax Stop; I retrieve the only two bandages that come with the unit. I open the duct tape that was already applied...it's not looking good. A seam rip a centimeter long;. One patch and the medical students surrounding me proclaim "It's still leaking!" I put the second one on..."It's leaking on the OTHER side of the patch now!" Much as my medical knowledge hates it, in desperation I call for the duct tape (actually packing tape). Four strips later I declare the patient dead, with objections from the medical peanut gallery. Monday morning surgeons ensue detailing what we should have done, one asks "You gonna call the company? It's defective!" An hour ago, I was victorious in my Superdaddom; now I just get rid of the 'dad' part and that's how I felt.

Back to today, I keep throwing one liners at Linda, to continue her gasping for air in laughter. I realize that despite my nominal failure, I CAN make some good out of my tragedy. I renew my resolve; I CAN make some good this weekend (I WILL kick that football this time). I resume my search for the snake in the garage. I find lots of other fun things (two year old Easter candy, a pennywhistle etc) but no snake. I DO however find a reasonable facsimile: something I bought 4 years ago, a vent brush, for cleaning dryer vents. Right size good length...I'll give it a try. Unfortunately, the cord does not have a wire core...it's hollow plastic. And in my bathroom, I have a brush eating toilet bowl. Hello Rotor Rooter? Bob Villa has eluded me again, replaced with Tim Allen...as usual.

UPDATE...$147.00 later, the mystery object is discovered. A Dora truck was lodged in the bowl deposited by Liv during one of her disceet excursions into the bathroom. As our local Rotor Rooter rep said "Too small not to go down; too big to get through." At least I know that my efforts were in vain and we would have needed to call a plumber whether or not there was a brush stuck in the bowl. All the kids were certain that the Rotor Rooter truck in the front meant that Jason and Grant were visiting from TAPS.

One Step Up, Two Steps Back

I guess it's not that bad, it's more three steps up and one back or something like that. Oh wait, let ME take a step back. Grace has recently made some significant improvements in her behavior regarding patience and her ability to 'hold it together' when things don't exactly go her way. But last night my wife Linda sat me down and was very upset about the fact that Grace has been very echoic lately and not answering questions, but instead just repeating words back to us.

A month ago, she had, for the first time, SHOWN my wife where she had gotten hurt and had begun answering questions in more than one word answers and had not needed to be prompted. For those with kids not on the spectrum, you probably watched milestones like this just whiz by, like markers on a highway; for us though, these are milestones are more vertical in nature, like hitting the 10,000 ft marker on the side of a mountain. So, the fact that she had slid back to on these skills was quite disheartening.

It turns out that the teachers and aids, who have been doing a wonderful job at working her behavioral issues, had underestimated her abilities from a language perspective. Instead of pushing her for answers to questions, they had been prompting her so she had become 'prompt dependent'. For those on the planet Earth, that means that when the held up a ball, instead of saying "What color is this ball?" and waited for and even pushed for "The ball is blue", They would say 'Gracie, what color is the ball? Blue. What color is the Ball?" and then grace would answer one word: "Blue". This method is great when you are trying to get words out and building up the child's question and response, but if they're already past that, it brings them back to a simpler time.

Big todoo anyway, notes flying back and forth, they are going to quickly 'fade the prompt' and get her on track. Part of the issue with this school is that Grace is a little too high-functioning from a language and play area; her real issues are with socialization and transitions. Sometimes if you are not explicit with the teachers, they kinda revert to 'simpler time' and somewhat expect the child to be lower functioning than they are. We are still happy with the school but we are just frustrated that we are halfway through the 6 week session, and she'll be hard-pressed to get her 'non-prompted' abilities back by the end of the session. It's all about not regressing in the summer sessions, after all.

It just goes to show you how easy it is to not be coordinated between the schools, your therapists and your child's needs and abilities. It also shows how nutzo some of us parents get with the details. I'm not sure whether some 'normal' parents go nutzo on the details or maybe within the autism parents' circles some let it slide and some are nutzo. I guess I'm just glad that we caught it and we can do something about it...

Of Course You Know, This Means War

That's the phrase from the old Warner Brothers Cartoons that came to my head when I read about this site:

Opposing Views Launches As A Debate Site Where Experts Go Head-To-Head

Getting average know-nothings to create content for your site is easy enough and well understood by now. But how do you get experts to create in-depth topic pages about the hot-button issues of the day, complete with videos, links, and healthy commenting? Russell Fine is trying to do that with Opposing Views, a site that launched a few hours ago. It pits experts against each other on topics such as the economy, global warming, health issues, and politics. "We are trying to create a site where people can get well-informed on a topic quickly," says Fine.
Opposing Views is an information portal disguised as a debate site. Experts debate hot-button issues, and readers can comment and vote on who they think is right.

And, of course one of the first debates is the vaccine/thimeresol/autism debate. Get your tickets, ladies and gentlemen, this should be an epic battle:

http://www.opposingviews.com/questions/are-autism-and-vaccines-linked

Have fun folks...

Tame the Savage Beast

I'm going to continue on a streak of two politically charged posts in a row, and attempt to assist in a groundswell to get the Michael Savage character off the nationally syndicated airways. If you haven't heard his comments, here is what he said on his radio show a few weeks ago:

SAVAGE: Now, you want me to tell you my opinion on autism, since I’m not talking about autism? A fraud, a racket. For a long while, we were hearing that every minority child had asthma. Why did they sudden ⎯ why was there an asthma epidemic amongst minority children? Because I’ll tell you why: The children got extra welfare if they were disabled, and they got extra help in school. It was a money racket. Everyone went in and was told [fake cough], “When the nurse looks at you, you go [fake cough], ‘I don’t know, the dust got me.’ ” See, everyone had asthma from the minority community. That was number one.Now, the illness du jour is autism. You know what autism is? I’ll tell you what autism is. In 99 percent of the cases, it's a brat who hasn't been told to cut the act out. That’s what autism is.What do you mean they scream and they’re silent? They don't have a father around to tell them, “Don’t act like a moron. You'll get nowhere in life. Stop acting like a putz. Straighten up. Act like a man. Don’t sit there crying and screaming, idiot.”Autism ⎯ everybody has an illness. If I behaved like a fool, my father called me a fool. And he said to me, “Don’t behave like a fool.” The worst thing he said ⎯ “Don't behave like a fool. Don’t be anybody’s dummy. Don’t sound like an idiot. Don’t act like a girl. Don’t cry.” That’s what I was raised with. That's what you should raise your children with. Stop with the sensitivity training. You’re turning your son into a girl, and you’re turning your nation into a nation of losers and beaten men. That’s why we have the politicians we have.

Originally I thought, let it slide, he's a nobody looking for publicity. Then I found he is the third most listened to talk show host in the US. This guy has to get thrown out into the street. So we all started our letter writings to the various sponsors. I got to writing to Anheuser Bush and I got stuck:

Dear Sirs...nah that's sexist
To Whom it May concern:
As a lifelong consumer of your product...WAIT what am I? A confessed former underage drinker?
As a consumer of your product...nah, sounds like I'm drunk right now.
As a current user of your product...same problem.

I hate copying and pasting the form letter into these internet 'send us your comments' things, once they see that pattern aren't they going to just throw it into the virtual trashbin?

OK, here it is:

As a user of you product, I would like to call to your attention that one of your outlets for advertising, The Michael Savage radio show nationally syndicated has taken a severe and disturbing turn. Recently, Michael Savage saw fit to disparage all individuals suffering from the disorder autism, calling them everything from brats to idiots and claiming that parents of
autistic children are involved in a 'racket' to bilk the country out of services.Of course, if you ask people at your company with autistic children (there are statistically more than 1 out of 100) you will find that they are in serious need of help in their day to day lives, and these comments by Savage are not only hurtful to them personally, but also perpetuate a decades old prejudice
that will cause children who desperately need services to not receive them.

I implore you to reconsider advertising on his show. Realize that, with the rate of autism climbing from 1 in 150 (my state of NJ has an autistic rate of 1 in 94), he is offending at least 10 percent of the population indirectly or directly, as well as much of the rest of the population, especially those with disabled children. I trust that you will arrive at the right conclusion and
pull your advertising from the show, thank you for your consideration,
livsparents
NJ
Father of two wonderful autistic children

I hope that we can create enough noise to get this guy thrown off the air. Apparently, he was thrown off of MSNBC a few years ago for attacking the gay community. Let's hope he's on the street in no time...

Is It Time for a Lunch Counter Sit in?

I'm not sure why this one got me so incensed. Maybe because I feel for the mother. Or I 'feel' something different toward the good 'ole boy Chief of Police (who apparently knows the family and the situation). Or maybe it's the 'we want our quiet enjoyment of our meal and no re-tard is going to disrupt that' attitude I get from the article. In any event, anyone want to carpetbag into Jackson, SC with me and do a good old fashioned sit in at the lunch counter to protest the treatment some get for 'not being able to control their kids?

Family ordered to leave restaurant because of crying child

JACKSON, SC (WIS) - At first, Gail Martin says she wasn't sure who was yelling at her to leave the Buckhead Café in Jackson. It turned out to be Jackson Police Chief Dennis Rushton, asking Gail and her family to leave.
"I didn't know what he was doing," Gail's daughter Lauren said.
The family was just about to order when 4-year-old Alyssa began crying; she suffers from autism.
Gail says Chief Rushton yelled across the restaurant again.
"He said, ‘You need to pick her up and you need to get out of here now,'" Gail said.
Lauren is upset with the chief.
"That was very mean to say -- just very mean," Lauren said.
The embarrassment was too much for Gail and her daughters, who soon left the restaurant.
"I wasn't embarrassed of Alyssa's behavior, I was embarrassed of the way it was handled," Gail said.
Chief Rushton would not make a statement, but he did say he felt Mrs. Martin's daughter was being extremely loud and bothering other customers.
Even though he knew the child was autistic, he said he did ask the Martins to leave.
Gail says she feels like Chief Rushton should have been more understanding about what was going on with her autistic daughter.
"We can't just lock them up, they have every right to be out in public like everyone else," Gail said.
Now Gail hopes her story will bring more awareness about autism.
"If it can happen in a small town in Jackson, it can happen anywhere," Gail said.
Chief Rushton says he is open to going through training through the South Carolina Autism Society to help him better understand the condition.
Rushton also says his police commissioner has invited the Martin family to meet with them at City Hall.
The Martins say they are open to meeting with the commissioner.

My favorites are the responses from the general public after the article:

As you can imagine, people have had plenty to say about this story.
Viewer Roger said, "The family should have known better than to take an emotionally disturbed child into a restaurant. When customers pay to enjoy a nice meal the last thing they want to endure is an uncontrollable child."

Please people! Learn how to control your kids and yourself. It is YOUR responsibility to keep your kids civil while in public. If you are unable to and fail to leave and just expect people to understand... you are a bad parent, bad citizen, and basically a bad person. Don't burden other people with your problems.

Let's take a different tack at this and see how the 'Cheif' would be viewed if say, a child with cerebral palsy in a wheel chair was dining at the same restaurant. Would it be right to tell the family to leave because the child was drooling or making patrons 'uncomfortable'? Of course not. What about a child or adult with Downs who was clearly mentally disabled... do we kick them out, Chief? Boy, what would you look like a day after the elections? I guess it's OK that because this child's specific disability can be construed as bad parenting, so it's OK to just override their civil rights and tell them to leave. Maybe an 'undesirables only' section, yea that's it! They can even just re-use the disabled wheelchair pictographs to easily depict those we don't want to see or hear.

We shall overcome...

Let's Talk About Insurance, Shall We?

Always a bad mistake to be tempted into reading AutismVox. Not because she doesn't have some of the most balanced, insightful and thought provoking things being written about autism in blogdom, of course she does; but simply BECAUSE they are insightful, balanced and yada yada, I then have to spend all my time thinking about that topic!


Well THIS ONE was no exception, because it's about one of my favorite rants: insurance coverage for autism services. We are roughly in the same position as Kristina/Charlie but a few years behind in that Liv is probably going to need services and assistance in some way for life, so the idea of 'medical necessity', when it comes to insurance coverage, comes into our vocabulary frequently. The idea of therapy, in the minds of an insurance company, is a repair/recovery-then-back-on-the-street sort of thing; physical therapy on a broken leg and get it back to working order in 6 months and they're done. But what if repair/recovery is not '90% mobility' definable? What if timetables of therapies are not measured in weeks and months, but months and years?


I really think we are at a crossroads of services for the disabled and who should pay for them. If you recall, the private sector predicted the end of civilization as we knew it when they were told what the Americans With Disabilities Act would really mean. "Making the country disabled-accessible would be cost prohibitive and would not float; the economy will sink, small business would cease to exist and the county's economy would wind up at the bottom of the fiscal ocean" according to those in business. Well, 15+ years later the dingy is still bobbing and we have an unprecedented awareness and diversity and access in the workforce and in public places. Well, OK, so it's not as rosy as all that, but going from nothing to a little is still unprecedented!


Not only has the private sector bore the burden of legislative disability access, but the public sector has as well, perhaps more, especially at the local school level. It has gotten to the point where not only are schools specializing their education for special needs kids, but they are providing therapies as well. No one in the late 70's would have expected their child to receive speech, physical or occupational therapy from a school system; today, it is commonplace and required. Again, rosy picture, thorny reality, but let's go with it.

So, here we all are at the crossroads of the next 'disability' intersection, that of neurological differences. Science is providing more detailed information about disorders and their potential therapies. Government is signing laws to have these disabilities provided for. Localities are trying desperately to provide these services. Parents are trying to fill in the gaps left in therapies that they see as still needed but not provided. And in the distance we see the devil incarnate in the form of the insurance industry quietly walking away from the intersection whistling and counting the souls he has stolen, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one's the wiser.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those 'socialize medicine' types (well, actually, I am, but besides the point), but I just have this funny idea that insurance is there to protect me from devastating medical losses. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I consider helping my child communicate and learn how to better use her body to be part of that protection; I'm sorry, but I don't buy that this is a cost that should be borne by society. From what I've heard, using the excuse that schools should be providing these types of services is illegal (citing from the law firm of Dewey, Cheatham and Howe which was recently bought out by the firm Burnham and Ruhn). But, behind closed doors, they are saying that this is society's burden, not theirs.

Now you know I'm no where near being a defender of insur-a, but maybe they DO have a point. We have insurance, schools, state and federal entities passing this very expensive hot potato around. If autistics are integrated into society through better therapies and services, who's the primary beneficiary? State and federal governments will benefit in the form of a more productive citizen. Families will also benefit because they will bear less of the support burden. So why should insurance get involved in this when they are not the beneficiaries? Let's leave the leg broken, let's not provide preventive checkups; let's not attempt to take people where they should or could be; let's leave all that up to the people and entities most impacted. Fact is that insurance bears a primary obligation to the insured and a secondary obligation to it's stockholders and not the other way around (at least in my socialistic mind). I know I'm straw-manning it a little here, but I just feel that insurance will do anything in their power for cost avoidance; if you don't believe that, your mom or your spouse probably deals with your insurer.

What do we do then? How do we weave this safety net with government and private sector thread to catch poor unfortunates like my family just trying to give my daughter the life she deserves? I haven't a clue, but if the past is any indication, this battle is over money so it's going to get bloody. The only question is whether it remains a guerrilla war, where insurance and governments silently cut and run and work the denial of services covertly; or whether we can drag this out into the light and have a proper fight.

I Finally Found My Calling

It's been pretty much as I expected this past week and a half. I could get used to this: No driving; no lifting; much less housework; the ability to pull out the 'shoulder' card and get anyone in the house to do my bidding; Sleeping late at least four or five of these days ("I LOST COUNT!" he said in an almost half cackle). Yup, if it weren't for the pain; and being locked up in this house; and having a wife becoming unhinged because she has MORE work; and not being able to take myself anywhere; and these kids getting under my skin almost as much as I'm getting under theirs; and having work, both home-work and work-work, begin piling up...Yepyepyepyepyep, I coulda got used to this...



But it all kinda starts back up again tomorrow. I promised work that I'd start working from home full time tomorrow and go back to the office next week. The girls start their summer school tomorrow; shape of things to come, we have to get them BOTH out the door by 7:30 (any seismologists out there, please disregard the potential tremor at 7:25 AM EDT...that'll be Grace's tantrum). Linda's schedule looks more like a UPS route than a summer day: pick ups, drop offs, layovers. I get to play lazy dispatcher and watch the more perishable 'packages' so that they don't spoil in the car and drive her bonkers.


But, minus the shoulder recovery and this could be the ideal life. So if anyone wants to finance a six figure salary for me, I'll produce a regular post and raise a whole buncha kids...I could even have 'em wear T-Shirts to advertise your products. Give us a jingle and we can work out the details...

Deja Mew

Oh boy, what a sucker I am. I have exactly zero influence in my house when it comes to matters of the heart. First, let me take you back almost exactly one year, to my catiasco of 2007. Fast forward to today and it's more than a coincidence. Same issue with our eldest cat, bladder stones; same operation at the same vet. Same friggin phone call from the same friggin wife with the same friggin problem. To coin a musical phrase, and they call it- kitty love. My end of the conversation was reticent: "No!", "Absolutely not!", "They will not scoop, water and feed them right!" Linda took it blow by blow and promised to have the kids sign a contract to be in control of the cat duties. Linda was demure but steadfast...she wanted this kitten.

I could have vetoed the deal, really I could have. I probably would have been given the cold shoulder for only six to nine months. Secured my position in the Cold Heartless Bastard Hall of Fame. Instead, I get a cover story in IQ: Idiots Quarterly. I didn't even get a choice of names, by the time she arrived at the house Linda already had the name Amber picked.

I guess on the plus side is it's a baby that does not have diapers. The cat is perfect (that was one of my stipulations for ANY four legged animal that comes through these doors), she's fiesty AND loveable. She was bottle fed from one day old and is completely comfortable with people. Livie's high pitched screech did freak her out a little, and the shear volume in the house is obviously a source of discomfort; all I can say is "GET USED TO IT KID". Grace has got her name down pat already, and while there is no interaction between them per se, there have been several mid-living room near collisions between them. I even have several real poor Amber jokes:

What do you call Amber if she sticks her claw in an electrical socket? Ember
What do you call Amber if she pisses daddy off too much? Amberger
What will Amber say if she gets locked out in the winter? Damn! Burr...

So much for my shoulder surgery recovery. I'm last week's news, the latest chaos is a fuzzy brown kitty named Amber.

One of My Favorites...Trying to make St Peter Laugh

I can't let the passing of George Carlin on Sunday of an apparent heart attack go unmentioned. In case you haven't noticed, I try to be funny, but people like George made it look so damn easy! I remember sneaking into my sister's album collection in the mid 70's and pulling gems like FM/AM, Class Clown and Occupation: Foole out and listening to all those forbidden words. But he hooked me with all those references to my life; routines about getting a kid to laugh so hard in the lunchroom that he got Jimmy Smith to pass an entire tunafish sandwich through his nose: or the Spanish speaking Father Rivera and the confessional line that you saw moving and the way us 'catlick' boys confessed. Or Wonderful WINO radio and the broken clock or the weather forecast of "Tonight...dark, continued dark through the night, with widely scattered light in the morning". I must confess, I didn't get half the concepts he was talking about in those albums, being just 10 or 12 at the time, but I still laughed my ass off.

Funny thing was that those routines were ingrained in me, and I found them coming out years later, and as long as I would say "As George Carlin said" I could get away with using his stuff to make people laugh. As I got older, I found his brand of observational comedy irresistible. There's nothing funnier that looking at a bizarre or ordinary situation and finding that humorous twist to it; he was the undisputed king of it. He made people like Jerry Seinfeld look like they were observing the weather in comparison.

I just envision him arriving at the pearly gates and trying to talk his way into heaven, with St. Peter pointing out the various digs to organized religion he's done during his carreer. Let him through Pete, we can't let devil get all the laughs. He'll have you in stitches with a half hour on "what's with all the white up here"!

Thanks, George...

Outta Commission

I'm going in for shoulder surgery this morning. I can't decide which direction to take the next few posts. I could go with:

• The disability angle- realizing what it is like with some kind of disability.
• The wife/disability angle- Linda all of a sudden having 6 kids and one less adult...
• The I am in excruciating pain and need someone to b!tch at angle
• The funny, my kids are going to forget my shoulder out of commission and cause me excruciating pain angle

We'll see which way it develops. I'll talk to you later...