tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19785284374886030552024-03-13T17:32:04.538-04:00Musings of an Autism DivaThe rambling thoughts that
occur within my brain.NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-15690663252926378972013-06-21T18:33:00.004-04:002013-06-21T18:33:57.352-04:00Some People Are Just Assholes<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Wow... Some people, I swear. I fight for Autism Education, and light into someone who thinks that the diagnosis of Autism is "Bullshit", and I get reamed because I attempt to point out that perhaps said person should ask the parents who have to fight with insurance companies, school officials, have to leave a grocery store or a restaurant because of a meltdown, whether or not Autism is an actual disorder or not. Now apparently I'm a bigoted asshole, because I dare to say someone has a lack of empathy for these parents to someone who until just now has never made mention of his Autistic status? BS. Autistic or not, you're still acting like a spoiled brat with mommy issues. Believe me, I understand the difficulties. And if these recent news reports about parents and caregivers killing their Autistic children are upsetting to you, you're not the only one. I'm upset by them too. HOWEVER... They are not the norm. And to lump us all as "Monster parents who forget that Autism isn't about them." is a pretty serious accusation. If you have issues with how your parents treated you, take it up with them. But to say, "Ooh, poor parents, Fuck them... it's not about them." only shows just how angsty you really are. You come off as a 15 year old. Certainly not the autistic parent of three non-autistics who was raised by an aunt with neuro issues of her own and an autistic cousin... ::brain implodes a bit:: I wonder ( /endsarcasm) where all of that anger comes from? IF your story is true, and I say IF, then perhaps you have deeper issues than just autism. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">The facts remain the same. Autism isn't JUST about one person. It affects the ENTIRE family... especially when that family is a close family unit. These parents who do anything and everything they can to make the world a little bit less stressful for their children DO DESERVE to have some empathy. Hell, I'll say it.. We deserve a little sympathy too. And every so often, we deserve to have someone pick up the pieces for the night and say, "You deserve some time to yourself." If that makes me a selfish, horrible, monster of a parent, then so be it. I guess I'm a selfish, horrible monster of a parent, because I spend 23/7 thinking about my son, who has autism, and the effects his autism will have on him, and his neurotypical brother throughout their lives. I spend that 23/7 trying to advocate for better services, better insurance coverage, less political crap in our medical issues, attempting to educated the public about autistic behaviors that they may not understand, to help make the world more autism friendly so that other parents, like myself and my husband can feel confident taking their children out to a restaurant or a movie theater without fear of some ignorant jackass making a scene, or throwing us out because Malcolm decides to stim during desert, or through the opening credits. That one hour that I left out... I spend trying to squeeze in a shower, eat something that isn't part of Malcolm's typical 'yellow diet' routine, or I don't know, have a conversation with my husband that isn't autism/child related. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">So go ahead. Judge me, if it makes you feel better about your lack of whatever it is that has you so freakin' angry. I will tell you the same thing I tell my son though. Autism or not.... you do not get a free pass to be an asshole.</span>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-54204601737208074012013-06-14T08:31:00.002-04:002013-06-14T08:31:26.329-04:00What The Hell Is Wrong People???<h1 style="clear: left; margin: 0px; position: relative; width: 797px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=news%2Flocal&id=9135553" target="_blank">Alex Spourdalakis' mother, godmother charged with </a></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Do I understand the desperation, isolation and frustration that Autism creates? You betcha! We deal with these 'side effects' of autism EVERY day! HOWEVER!.... NEVER has my brain questioned whether or not KILLING MY CHILD would be the appropriate way to handle my own stress. NEVER have I endured a 3 meltdown in 5 hours, been punched in the face, kicked, spit on, yelled at, or watched as some expensive item in my living room shatters and thought, "A kitchen knife could fix this." </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Okay... it's taken me a couple of days to process my thoughts about this. They don't vary much from my initial reaction upon reading this story though.... So many people are so eager to jump up and defend and excuse these two women. "Ooh, no one understands how difficult Autism can be." or "The system failed them." </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Guess what? The system DOES work... if you do your part! These two women CLEARLY gave up on this boy. They gave up on themselves. There ARE resources out there, and I find it incredibly difficult to believe that they were handed the diagnosis and then sent on their way without ANY of these services and resources HANDED to them. Matthew and I left that particular doctor's appointment with our arms FULL of booklets, info packets, pamphlets, business cards, and more! Our job as an Autistic Child's parent and advocate does not end with the diagnosis!!! And clearly, she had enough of a voice to question whether medicating him with psychotropic drugs was appropriate for him. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The fact of the matter is this. Did the system fail her? It's possible. But who failed Alex? Stop crying about how tough SHE had it. Yeah, like I said, it's HARD! But imagine what this young boy was going through! I'm certain it didn't scratch the surface of HER stress. And here's the thing.. If she were truly justified in her actions. If she even FELT justified in her actions, why did she, and the Godmother, attempt suicide right afterwards? Most people, who are steadfast in their convictions.. don't run away and hide after acting upon them. They are clearly, two cowards who deserve everything they are going through now. THEY failed this child. Not his doctors. Not the government. Not any other 'They' that people want to throw out there in an attempt to prove that the system is broken. </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Someone, on another page said, "DO NOT FORGET WHO IS ULTIMATELY RESPONSIBLE" then concluded with "Hint: It is not his mother." </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">As his number one advocate, it wasn't the responsibility of the medical community at large to take care of him or his needs, it was HERS. If she felt they weren't listening, there ARE services out there, ACROSS America, that can help with that! Believe me, I understand the desperation and the isolation that she faced. I face it too. And I reach out for help. As hard as it is sometimes, I ASK for help when I am reaching my limit. I didn't HAVE a support group in my area, where I could connect with other Autism parents. So what did I do? I MADE one! No, it's not an easy road, Autism. It's a scary, ugly, lonely road. You doubt yourself as a parent, as a friend, as a wife/husband, as a human being. Regularly. Relationships suffer because of Autism. Self esteem and self care suffer because of Autism.</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">My point is... When does it STOP being everyone else's responsibility to take care of Alex? When does it become Mom's responsibility? She GOT the diagnosis. Is that where she believes her responsibility in all of this ended? She was able to use her voice and advocate her dislike of using medications to contain his behavior? Where was this voice when these other services and providers 'failed' her? </span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And that is the key for me. They failed HER. Well.. WHO failed Alex? If she was unable to cope... and she gave up... that isn't the fault of his doctor's, or CPS, or whatever other 'They' everyone is trying to blame. THAT particular fault, lies solely upon the two who executed this child. THEY GAVE UP ON THE CHILD. THEY FAILED HIM. So absolutely, yes... DO NOT FORGET WHO IS ULTIMATELY RESPONSIBLE for what happened to him...</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Hint: They wiped the knife they used to stab him with before taking a handful of pills to medicate and wipe their guilt away.</span></span></h1>
NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-85795620777326484412013-05-31T06:59:00.001-04:002013-05-31T06:59:11.308-04:00Is it October Yet? AKA: When Do The Back To School Sales Start?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So, I had the absolute privilege, and utter joy of reading this amazing blog, that pretty much described, to a TEE, my life as a mom of a school aged child, for the last four weeks or so of the school year. It was pretty amazing. Funny, most definitely. But beyond that, there was an amazing level of truth, that most mom's will never admit to. Who wants to be known as that mom that isn't perfect. To a Stepford level of perfect. Afterall, isn't that what we're suppose to strive for? I -DO- know a mom or two like this. Parenting, now that they're almost done with the whole 'raising' part of it, has taken on that notorious rose colored, nostalgic, afterglow that seems to come with the whole, "Aaah, we're almost done." They suddenly remember, with fondness, that time Jr. 'asserted himself with respect in the middle of the grocery store'. (I.E: What other parents call a full blown temper tantrum.) or how they displayed their God-given talent by painting on their bedroom wall. (With poop.) Yeah.. funny how becoming a parent of a grown child messes with the memory like that. It's about as annoying as these same people telling us, "Enjoy every minute, they grow up so fast." No. No I won't ENJOY cleaning up poop, or a public tantrum. Not every moment of parenting is a Joy.<br />
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But I digress...Go ahead and take a peek. I'll wait.......<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2013/05/30/worst-end-of-school-year-mom-ever" target="_blank">Worst End of School Year Mom Ever</a></span></div>
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Pretty awesome, yeah?</div>
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The point (today) is..<b>. <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">TODAY IS THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL</span>....</span></b><br />
and I'm not afraid to admit... I'm terrified. Because unlike the stepfords who cry about how happy they are about this event, none of them must face the coming battle that is bound to ensue on Monday. The dreaded....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Aok4SRjG34/Uah0kAQMWLI/AAAAAAAAAcc/k3uZd0rflMM/s1600/last-day-of-school.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Aok4SRjG34/Uah0kAQMWLI/AAAAAAAAAcc/k3uZd0rflMM/s1600/last-day-of-school.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Yeah.. this pretty much sums it up right now.</span></span></td></tr>
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Now, this isn't to say that we won't have some great moments, make some even greater memories, and have loads of fun. But seriously, who can smile for 90 straight days, while sitting in 95 degree weather with 99% humidity, at the splash pad park, and respond with complete and utter joy to the 836 billionth "Look at me, Mom!"?? If you can, Kudos. This page, and this post, isn't for you. "Super moms who do everything perfect" is three blogs down. I'm talking about REAL women. REAL men. Who have limits. Who require respite. Who are honest with themselves and realize, that the time spent away at school, is about the only breather we get sometimes. And on this last day of school, the only REAL thought coursing through our panicking minds is, "What the hell am I going to do on Monday!?"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Yeah, I use this photo a lot these days to attempt to convey just how overloaded and thinly spread I am. Sadly, it doesn't seem to get the message across to a lot of people.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br /></td></tr>
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So, of course, I couldn't ask that my child sleep until the alarm clock go off. He hasn't since last Oct. What made me think he would today? But in my chronic state of perpetual hope (that's what's I'm calling my state of delusion today...) I continue to tell myself, "Maybe tomorrow." I swear the last thing I hear before the boys nod off is giggling. Always giggling. Anyway.. </div>
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Yes, there <b>will</b> be many trips to the splash pad park. And to the nature trails. And to any other place in town we can think of to get them out of the house, to burn off some excess energy, and give Mom and/or Dad some time away from our chaotic little cave. But let's face it. It's a small town we live in. And the activities around here... well, they're in a small town. </div>
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And here we are. 6:30 in the morning. The alarm clock STILL hasn't gone off, since, it's not set to for another 45 minutes. BOTH of the boys are up, and incredibly... awake. Clifford the Big Red Dog is on the TV, and Malcolm is seemingly oblivious to the fact that today, is the last day of his established routine, and what little peace we had in our little cave. Monday, he will get up at the butt-crack of down, as usual, and demand "I need my PBS Kids dot org!" and look for the pile of clothes he is supposed to put on for the day. And when he doesn't find them, because quite frankly, I'm not opposed to a lazy day in our jammies, He's going to be mad. But the nuclear fallout will occur when, at 8:50, the bus doesn't arrive. That will be about the time I decide that a summer-time, alcoholic glutton doesn't seem like all that bad a career path. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I could think of worse things to take the edge off!</td></tr>
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So, at a quarter to 7 in the morning, and I'm already attempting to make a game plan for this afternoon. For 3:31pm, to be precise. I'm pretty sure, my first course of action will be:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Ned Stark was afraid of summer. Afterall, he is a Winter!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty accurate.</td></tr>
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After that.. who the hell knows? Begin a slow and methodical countdown until Oct. 12 sounds like a good plan. Write a song about it, perhaps. Start a petition, and a public campaign to implement a year round school program, at least for those of us who have routine depend kiddos? I don't suppose earbuds, LOUD Glee music and World of Warcraft would be considered 'good parenting'. That really is a bummer. ;) I suppose I will have to entertain myself, at least during their waking hours with daydreams of Oct. 12. It will have to suffice. But damn... won't <b>that </b>party be epic!!!</div>
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NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-32830005373158693572013-05-31T01:01:00.001-04:002013-05-31T01:01:27.191-04:00To Parents of Small Children: Let Me Be the One Who Says It Out Loud. By: Steve Wiens<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
I had the privilege of reading this just a bit ago, and while it made me giggle, it also made nod. A lot. And cry. Because we experience this SO.VERY.OFTEN. Thank you, Steve, for putting our emotions, and our struggles into such clear and precise words.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am in a season of my life right now where I feel bone-tired almost all of the time. Ragged, how-am-I-going-to-make-it-to-the-end-of-the-day, eyes burning exhausted. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have three boys ages 5 and under. I'm not complaining about that. Well, maybe I am a little bit. But I know that there are people who would give anything for a house full of laughter and chaos. I was that person for years and years; the pain of infertility is stabbing and throbbing and constant. I remember allowing hope to rise and then seeing it crash all around me, month after month, for seven years. I am working on another post about infertility that will come at a later date. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But right now, in my actual life, I have three boys ages 5 and under. There are many moments where they are utterly delightful, like last week, when Isaac told my sister-in-law that, "My daddy has hair all over." Or when Elijah put a green washcloth over his chin and cheeks, and proudly declared, "Daddy! I have a beard just like you!" Or when Ben sneaks downstairs in the morning before the other boys do, smiles at me, and says, "Daddy and Ben time." </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But there are also many moments when I have no idea how I'm going to make it until their bedtime. The constant demands, the needs and the fighting are fingernails across the chalkboard every single day. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my children is for sure going to be the next Steve Jobs. I now have immense empathy for his parents. He has a precise vision of what he wants -- exactly that way and no other way. Sometimes, it's the way his plate needs to be centered exactly to his chair, or how his socks go on, or exactly how the picture of the pink dolphin needs to look -- with brave eyes, not sad eyes, daddy! He is a laser beam, and he is not satisfied until it's exactly right. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have to confess that sometimes, the sound of his screaming drives me to hide in the pantry. And I will neither confirm nor deny that while in there, I compulsively eat chips and/or dark chocolate. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are people who say this to me: </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"You should enjoy every moment now! They grow up so fast!" </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I usually smile and give some sort of guffaw, but inside, I secretly want to hold them under water. Just for a minute or so. Just until they panic a little. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you have friends with small children -- especially if your children are now teenagers or if they're grown -- please vow to me right now that you will never say this to them. Not because it's not true, but because it really, really doesn't help. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We know it's true that they grow up too fast. But feeling like I have to enjoy every moment doesn't feel like a gift, it feels like one more thing that is impossible to do, and right now, that list is way too long. Not every moment is enjoyable as a parent; it wasn't for you, and it isn't for me. You just have obviously forgotten. I can forgive you for that. But if you tell me to enjoy every moment one more time, I will need to break up with you. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you are a parent of small children, you know that there are moments of spectacular delight, and you can't believe you get to be around these little people. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But let me be the one who says the following things out loud: </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are not a terrible parent if you can't figure out a way for your children to eat as healthy as your friend's children do. She's obviously using a bizarre and probably illegal form of hypnotism. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are not a terrible parent if you yell at your kids sometimes. You have little dictators living in your house. If someone else talked to you like that, they'd be put in prison. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are not a terrible parent if you can't figure out how to calmly give them appropriate consequences in real time for every single act of terrorism that they so creatively devise. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are not a terrible parent if you'd rather be at work. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are not a terrible parent if you just can't wait for them to go to bed. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are not a terrible parent if the sound of their voices sometimes makes you want to drink and never stop. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're not a terrible parent. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're an actual parent with limits. You cannot do it all. We all need to admit that one of the casualties specific to our information saturated culture is that we have sky-scraper standards for parenting, where we feel like we're failing horribly if we feed our children chicken nuggets and we let them watch TV in the morning. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the reasons we are so exhausted is that we are oversaturated with information about the kind of parents we should be. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, maybe it's time to stop reading the blogs that tell you how to raise the next president who knows how to read when she's 3 and who cooks, not only eats, her vegetables. Maybe it's time to embrace being the kind of parent who says sorry when you yell. Who models what it's like to take time for yourself. Who asks God to help you to be a better version of the person that you actually are, not for more strength to be an ideal parent. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, the next time you see your friends with small children with that foggy and desperate look in their eyes, order them a pizza and send it to their house that night. Volunteer to take their kids for a few hours so they can be alone in their own house and have sex when they're not so tired, for heaven's sake. Put your hand on their shoulder, look them in the eyes, and tell them that they're doing a good job. Just don't freak out if they start weeping uncontrollably. Most of the time, we feel like we're botching the whole deal and our kids will turn into horrible criminals who hate us and will never want to be around us when they're older.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're bone-tired. I'm not sure when it's going to get better. Today might be a good day or it might be the day that you lost it in a way that surprised even yourself. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Breathe in. Breathe out. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're not alone.</span></blockquote>
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NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-33639973228129614582013-05-29T10:25:00.000-04:002013-05-29T10:25:20.907-04:00Over Tired, Over Stressed and Over It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8-Wm2JIqwz4/UaX1UVVedBI/AAAAAAAAAbA/OBeFiHqU3lo/s1600/caution_tired_mother_edited-13.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8-Wm2JIqwz4/UaX1UVVedBI/AAAAAAAAAbA/OBeFiHqU3lo/s400/caution_tired_mother_edited-13.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yeah. The above graphic pretty much describes the last three days for me. No profound words of wisdom, witty tidbits of advice or even a heartfelt dedication to those who struggle and rise to the top. This is just about me. A human being, on the brink of losing her mind. At least that's how it feels right now. And it seems, no matter who I talk to, no matter how I plea for help, I continue to bang my head up against a brick wall. </div>
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Let me attempt to explain the inner workings of my brain. </div>
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There are a few things in this world that make my brain jump to hyper-speed level thinking and over working. Silence as a response. Being ignored. Being mocked. And lately, Too much noise. </div>
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But right now... the levels of irritation that I feel when faced with those is NOTHING compared to the utter hopelessness and despondency I feel when faced with all of these things, on top of being just utterly and completely exhausted. I'm not talking about your everyday, run-of-the-mill "Oh man, I only got four hours of sleep last night." or "I shouldn't have stayed up so late." exhausted. I'm talking about that exhaustion that comes from months, or sometimes years, of interrupted sleep, chronic worrying and obsessing, and constant amounts of high level stress. You know, the type that causes Post Traumatic Stress. Don't believe me? Ask ANY special needs parent.. Or read the following article: <a href="http://www.disabilityscoop.com/2009/11/10/autism-moms-stress/6121/" target="_blank">Autism Moms Have Stress Similar To Combat Soldiers</a>. Pretty scary stuff, right? </div>
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This past weekend, a three day weekend for most, was particularly stressful. One more week of school left. Most wonder why I'm so stressed about it. See, with our son, waking up Monday through Friday, getting dressed, eating breakfast, brushing hair and teeth, and playing with Hot Wheels until the bus comes, has become our standard routine. A very IMPORTANT routine. This routine is now about to change. He won't get on the bus. He won't see his friends, or his teacher. He has no break, away from a little brother who idolizes him, and wants to hang all over him. And we, his parents, have no break from Autism. Until August 31st, when school is back in session.</div>
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Okay. Let's get one thing straight. Yes. I fight for awareness and education. It HAS become my passion. I will say that, gladly, and whole-heartedly, everyday, until the day I die. However. I am also human. Just a girl, who every once and again, needs to FEEL like a girl. Who needs to feel like what she's doing, and what she's done, matters. And has made a difference. Believe me, I appreciate all of the kind words, and sentiments. "I don't know how you do it!" "You're an awesome mom!" "You're an amazing woman, and a powerful Autism Warrior." Sometimes... "Do you need anything?", "How are you feeling?" or "What can I do?" is MORE than enough. Sometimes, it's the only thing that makes me feel better. I am not altogether comfortable with the "Autism Warrior" or "Awesome Mom" title. I feel like, what I'm doing, what I do, is nothing any other parent would do. I know, not all special needs parents advocate. Or Mentor. Or start their own support group. Not all parents are called to do that. I was. And I know, I bring most of my stress on myself. Because I strive to be perfect in everything I do. And I often come up short. I have huge dreams for myself, and my children. And most often times, they go unfulfilled. But I forge ahead, hoping to teach my children that if you continue fighting, and working, for the things you want, they WILL happen. </div>
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However, this week, it looks like a new lesson plan is needed. Sometimes, you HAVE to ask for help. That's it. That's the lesson. However, in putting my proverbial money, where my mouth is, I've come to realize a couple of things. See, I've ALWAYS been labeled the 'melodramatic' one. That particular moniker dates back to before I can remember. "Stop being so..." "You're being..." You get the picture. Point? I'm not BEING anything. I just happen to feel. Everything. A lot. Sometimes, too much. So much, in fact, that it's overwhelming at times. And if I bottle it up, or push it down, and pretend it's not there, it's bad for everyone. That includes you. But the same people who roll their eyes and whisper about how over the top, or melodramatic I am, are the same people who ignore my flat-line pleas for help. </div>
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"I'm so exhausted, I overslept and missed an IEP meeting."</div>
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"Oh tell me about it... I ran out of milk for my coffee.. I'm so stressed out." </div>
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"I'm stressing out about summer break."</div>
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"Oh, I don't know why. I always love summer break. All my kids are home, It's great fun!"</div>
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"I haven't slept for more than 4 hours in the last 3 days, can't remember when I showered last, and still haven't been to the grocery store this week."</div>
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"I can relate! A dog pooped on my carpet. I need a vacation desperately." </div>
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Seriously? </div>
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Screw you too.</div>
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Do I sound angry? Bitter? Hateful? Good. It was supposed to come across that way. The fact of the matter is this... Unless you are raising, or have raised, a special needs child, you CAN'T relate. And your little idioms about how much you MISS, or ADORE the chaos in YOUR house, does NOT comfort those of us dealing with an entirely different breed of chaos and stress.</div>
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I realize this is long. And it's rather rambling. But this is just another facet of how my brain works. THIS is why I don't sleep anymore. Because one thought... Turns into 30...turns into 120... etc etc... So, to keep those thoughts at a relative calm, I occupy myself with mindless tv, Facebook, and World of Warcraft at 3am. No. It's not wise. It's probably not even healthy. But what are my options? Drinking 4 pots of coffee, while taking six bottle of antidepressants with a bottle of wine? Because I'm thinking that's the ONLY way right now, to curb the constant exhaustion and mood swings. </div>
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So here it is... all laid out for the world to see. I'm not perfect. I'm not a super-mom. Hell, sometimes, I don't even feel like a GOOD mom. There are even days when I feel like, "They're still breathing, and nothing got broke today. I did my job." And yes... sometimes... I need a break. A break that doesn't come very often. And sometimes, I just need to be reminded that someone, ANYONE, appreciates what I do everyday. Even if it's just slapping together a peanut butter sandwich and mixing a cup of chocolate milk, to deter the inevitable meltdown for just 10 more minutes. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-__hMYavames/UaYPjdyRlOI/AAAAAAAAAbY/jPPpm33U1-I/s1600/iStock_000015669261XSmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-__hMYavames/UaYPjdyRlOI/AAAAAAAAAbY/jPPpm33U1-I/s400/iStock_000015669261XSmall.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br />NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-57159331938683471192013-05-26T01:33:00.000-04:002013-05-26T01:38:49.172-04:0010 Years is Coming Up Fast!Hard to believe that in just a couple of years, Matthew and I will be celebrating 10 years of marriage together. Quite the accomplishment, these days. But it doesn't end there. We will have actually been together, a solid couple, for 16 years! I'm pretty proud of that too.<br />
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So yeah, it's not taking place until June of 2016. But you know what? I'm a planner. That's what I do. Plan. And I'm not afraid to admit, I can be anal about details. If I enter into something, without feeling confident about the details, I panic. Big time. So... I'm checking out bridal fashion. I'm checking out venues. DJ's, Flowers, Cakes, all of the typical bridal fanfare. Why? Because, the ONE economy on this planet that has remained relatively stable, is the bridal economy. In three years, the cost of weddings isn't going to jump dramatically. And for the most part, neither are the trends. And let's face it. Chocolate cake will ALWAYS be in fashion. So... in order to put together a realistic budget, I am window shopping NOW. It gives us more time to figure it out. To save. And to pay for things, so that the cost doesn't kick our asses a month before the event.<br />
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So yeah. Scoff and laugh, and ask "Why are you doing this NOW?" That's why! Not that I have to explain it to you. But hey.. Never let it be said I wasn't willing to explain things.. in full detail, with a touch of attitude and snark to boot. Just so that we're on the same page, and there are no misunderstanding. ;)<br />
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<br />NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-52110229159092252802013-05-18T20:52:00.001-04:002013-05-18T20:53:14.455-04:00A Blast From the PastSo, I was looking through some of my older files, looking for something in particular, actually, when I happened upon this. A manifesto, of sorts, that I had written in July 20, 2012. Almost a year ago. And my, how some things have changed. And even more, how some things have stayed the same. Sleep deprivation, lack of respite, Tag-team parenting.. Are still a big norm in our household these days. But it was shortly after this disaster, that my heart was touched in a way, that has changed our family forever. Advocacy, Mentoring, and Service for those struggling with Autism has been placed upon me, and in that almost year since this writing, amazing things have begun to happen!! MALS Place is up and running, and starting to grow. Already, we have groups interested in sponsoring and donating to our group. I have been asked to sit in on parent panels, that speak with our local and state governments, to take part in regional cadre meetings and classes, to become a Parent Mentor through Easter Seals ARC, And just recently, I was contacted by Autism Speaks, and invited to be on their Fort Wayne Walk's planning committee!<br />
<br />
I can't win every battle I fight. I'm not naive enough to believe that. But, if I don't at least fight... I won't win ANY of them!<br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It has been an especially trying week in the Dennis
household. Between the heat and the humidity, a bout of Autism-induced
insomnia, lack of sleep on Mommy and Daddy's part, and just the everyday
stresses of raising two young boys, Yesterday's disaster, put my husband and I
into a tailspin, to say the least.<br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Matthew is working very early morning hours at FedEx, having to get up at 2:30
in the morning, and coming home anywhere between 7 and 8:30 in the morning,
depending on their workload. Yesterday morning (Thurs. July 19) he was
especially tired, having not slept very well the night before. As for myself, I
had been up all evening with Malcolm, who, as I said, was suffering from some
Autism-induced insomnia. Of course, our two year old, Jace, snored happily
away. Anyway, After Matthew, my husband, came home, we were both pretty
exhausted, and about 10am, we decided we would put the boys in our room, turn
on a movie for them, turn the lights all out, and declare a 'Family Nap Time'.
After some fussing, the boys finally quieted down. The next thing I knew, I
heard my husband, from the living room, yelling out, "Oh my God... Oh my
God..." It took me a moment to realize, I was awake, and that I wasn't
dreaming. When I trudged out to the living room, I stood there in disbelief.
Malcolm figured out how to unlock our bedroom door. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
The night before, we'd made popcorn. In the midst of the insomnia, lack of
sleep and frustration, we'd left the popcorn bowl on the dinner table. That was
now empty. It appeared as if someone forgot to put the lid on the popcorn
popper. It was everywhere. Mixed in, were these multi-colored flecks, that
didn't register at first. Until my eyes focused on the back of the dinner
table. There was our fish tank. Half full. Popcorn (with extra butter) floating
in the water. The water, by the way, which I had just changed two days earlier,
now looked like skim milk. And there was Goldie, our goldfish, floating at the
top. Liberty, our Beta, was MIA at the moment. Matthew and I went into instant "parent
panic". "We'll deal with the boys later. First, we gotta find that
fish..." So.. the search and rescue began. It was a couple of minutes, but
I found him, next to the tank. I yelled out "I got him! Get a bowl!"
scooped him up, and ran after my husband, into the kitchen, who was promptly
bringing the faucet to temp, so that we could attempt to rescue this poor
creature. Finally, dropping him into the bowl, we waited for what seemed like
forever, before he finally fluttered about, and began swimming. Whew. Only one
fish lost. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Then the clean up began. It took us several hours to FIND all of the pieces of
our tank, to sift through the tank rock (the multi colored specks I spoke of
earlier), the popcorn, carpet threads and other debris that the kids had managed
to leave in their wake. </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
It was time to start dinner when we finally finished the last of the clean up.
My nerves and my sanity were frayed. Matthew was not far behind. The boys had
been relegated to opposite ends of the house. (Less clean up is needed when
they're separated. Apparently, in the field of demolition, they make one heck
of a team.) By the end of the night, the boys were in bed, looking deceptively
peaceful, my husband was heading to bed, and my brain was in overdrive. I sat
down at my computer, tried to distract myself with some mindless entertainment
(Reruns of Glee.) And without thinking, or even realizing I was ABOUT to, I
just looked up and asked, "What is it, you're trying to make me
understand? Please?" I was then compelled to open up Google. "Okay...
What am I looking up?" And without thinking, I typed in, "Bible
Verses for Autism". The same verse kept appearing. Entry after entry.
Matthew 25:31-46. I didn't get it at first. I had to read it 4 or 5 times. Finally,
I just looked up, put my hands in my lap and said, "Okay God. I appreciate
your faith in me. But please do not compare me to Job tonight. I do not have
near his patience on a good day. Just this once, treat me like the idiot child,
and just... give me the simple version." </span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
I read the verse one more time, and it was as if someone had come by with the
cliff notes version, or drew pictures for me. I couldn't believe the sudden
understanding that happened in my brain. So fast, so sudden, that all I could
do, was begin writing. (That's what I do. I write.)</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
-----------------------------------</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
“Disabled children are a blessing”</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
It is something that we have all heard; even long before we were parents of
disabled children. It usually is offered in a way that makes it seem like if
you have a disabled child, you also have some indefinable, magical fairy dust
kind of ‘blessing’ where an angel waves his hand and, poof, you are blessed.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Once you become the parent of a disabled child, you begin to see what that
‘blessing’ really means in concrete terms, because one of the first things that
happens to you, in your early grief, is that you become grounded. All of the
trivial distractions, the petty rivalries, the BS ego trips, the vain ambitions
and the frivolities of life suddenly become very unimportant. The crap in your
life starts to fall away and it is replaced by seriousness about things of true
value.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Diagnosis brings with it a choice, to continue to serve yourself, or to take a
hard look at your life and begin making greater and greater sacrifices for the
wellbeing of your child. Because we love our children, very few of us choose
the former.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
In light of Matthew 25, this is the blessing of the autistic child. God eases
you into falling in love with the Least of These, just like He is, so that when
diagnosis comes, the choice to serve them is automatic.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
For our children’s welfare, parents in our community give up their careers,
their houses, their retirement, their health, their relationships, their free
time, their dreams, their pride and a hundred other things that typical parents
‘get’ to hold on to. When we discuss the sacrifices that parents make, it is
usually from the perspective that parents are losing out on the better life
that should have been theirs.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Making this even more painful, some of these families will turn their lives
upside down for children who may not ever ‘get better’ or live independent
lives or even be able to acknowledge their parents at all. Some fathers will
never be greeted with excitement by their child when they come home from work.
Some mothers will never hear, “I love you, Mom.”</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
But Matthew 25 puts this phenomenon in a whole different light. What Jesus is
telling his followers, just as He is about to leave them, is that whatever they
sacrifice for the vulnerable in their world, they sacrifice for Him.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
In the Bible, God asks believers to give just 10% of their income to Him. What
do you think it means to God when a family who has lived all their lives in one
place, tear up their roots and move across the country to a state that has
better services for their disabled child?</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Read Matthew 25:31-46 again and pay particular attention to verses 35 and 36.</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave
Me something to drink;</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
We don’t just feed our children, many of us feed them gluten free, casein free,
organic, hormone free, dye free, non-allergen, supplement enhanced diets that
cost more money and take more effort than we would ever dream of spending on
ourselves.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
I was a stranger, and you invited Me in;</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Our children are strangers to us in so many ways, yet many of us spent much of
our time working hard to draw them out; to know them and to be know by them.
The invitation is constantly being extended.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
…naked, and you clothed Me;</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
If the time and energy that we spend clothing and diapering our children were
invested in the space program, we could have colonized Mars by now.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
I was sick, and you visited Me;</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
How many hours have you spent in doctor’s offices, at conferences, in training
seminars, listening to lectures, and reading books so that you could attend to
your autistic child's health? How many nights have you stayed up trying to
comfort your little one who could not sleep?</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
I was in prison, and you came to Me.</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
How many times have you looked at your child who would not or could not respond
to you and longed for him to be free enough to tell you what was going on
inside his mind? How many times have you held your little one and cried because
you just missed him?</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
All the love, all the acts of service, all the sacrifices, all of the other
plates that you have let go of so that you could keep just this one spinning…
He sees it all, and He says:</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
“You did it to Me”.</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Remember that night that you were up cleaning poop off the wall in tears at 3
AM after eight consecutive months of broken sleep? That injury you sustained
trying to save your child’s life for the third time that week? That beloved
thing that you gave up because you needed those resources for your child? He
was right there, He saw it all, and as far as He is concerned, you did it all
for Him.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
When your child was diagnosed with autism, or with any disability, God put you
on a new road. It is rocky and dangerous and to journey on it is hard. It
humbles you and strips away pride that would have been yours had you not gotten
the diagnosis. But Jesus said that He can only use broken people. People whose
egos have melted away, people who have been brought to the end of themselves
and had the love of the world’s economy squeezed out of them. People who are
dieing to themselves. It is only then that they can begin to see, and to love,
God’s economy.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
Your child’s autism lays the ground work for God to be able to make you into a
person who really knows Him and understands the world the way that He does.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
The Corps has to strip away much of the man that showed up on their door step
before they can build a Marine. My first three years as the parent of an
autistic child have been a spiritual Paris Island. I am having the crap in my life
stripped away by trying things based on the old paradigm, failing and having to
go back and relearn the basics.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
It has brought me back to a faith in God that I have not known in many years. A
more child like faith that was less concerned with how I appeared and more
concerned with just trying to learn from God how to get it right. His ‘Right’,
not the world’s right. It is a faith that is removing my independence and
accomplishments and taking me back to the dependency and instability that I
knew when I first met Jesus. As I am pushing forty, I am learning how little I
really know, how weak I really am, and how much the smallest thing that I give
to God really counts.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: small;">
And God has used Malcolm to do it.</span><br />
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
THAT is the blessing of the disabled child.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-86596992327487776362013-05-05T21:16:00.003-04:002013-05-05T21:16:26.715-04:00High-Functioning "Needs"<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">There isn't a week that goes by when someone doesn't tout off about how Malcolm "doesn't look", "doesn't act" or "doesn't seem" autistic. "Does he really need to be medicated?" "Parents today just want an easy fix for everything." (as if we were aware that this particular insult was being directed at us.) and "Well, those doctor's don't know everything."</span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Let me take this moment to clear the air, and educate and put to rest any misconceptions or ignorance you may have about Autism. In particular, HFA. Or, High-Functioning Autism. </span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">First and foremost. Unless you spend any significant amount of time with him. Don't believe for one moment that you have any knowledge, comprehension or insight about Malcolm, or Autism. I'm not sure I can make it any clearer than that. </span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">See. The biggest misconception we face is that because he's been diagnosed "Autistic"... he's supposed to rock back and forth, slap himself in the head, count fallen boxes of toothpicks with a scary degree of accuracy, and be a "really good driver.. yeah.. yeah... really good driver." </span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">His name isn't Rainman. He's never watched an episode of Jeopardy. We don't buy his underwear at K-Mart. </span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">His name is Malcolm. And he is not low-functioning, severe, or even classic. He is High-Functioning. </span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">So. What does that mean? </span><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><br style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Well.. let's first start with the basic meaning of Autism... </span><br />
<div style="clear: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.5em; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">
<h2 style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px;">
au·tism</h2>
<sup style="line-height: 16px;"></sup> <span style="line-height: 16px;"> [aw-tiz-uh<img /><img />m] <a href=""></a> <a href="">Show IPA</a></span></div>
<div style="clear: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.5em; padding: 0px 0px 10px;">
noun<div style="border: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 1.5em; padding: 0px;">
1. Psychiatry. a pervasive developmental disorder of children, characterized by impaired communication,excessive rigidity, and emotional detachment: now considered one of the <a href="" style="line-height: 16px;">autism spectrum disorders</a>.</div>
<div style="border: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 1.5em; padding: 0px;">
2. A tendency to view life in terms of one's own needs and desires.<br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />Interesting. I don't see anywhere in the definition, why, by the way, I did NOT write, that Autism is related to being Mentally Retarded. The next person who uses that particular phrases near, around or about Malcolm, will find ME, in their face, telling them exactly how ignorant that particular phrase makes them look. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />High functioning simply mean that some of these symptoms, are less severe. Individuals with high functioning autistic disorder may want to interact with other people. However, they don't know how to behave correctly. They have a difficult time understanding abstract language. For example, someone who makes a joke may be taken literally in conversation, causing confusion and miscommunication.<br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />This, however, does not make his "Needs" any less necessary, required, vital or urgent. See, we still have a laundry list of symptoms that we have to deal with...<br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" /><div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Symptoms that are indicative of high functioning autistic disorder are:</div>
<ul style="line-height: 16px; list-style-type: square; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px 10px 0px 20px;">
<li>Motor skill delay</li>
<li>Obsession with specific items or information</li>
<li>Reactions to stimuli such as smells, textures, sounds and sights</li>
<li>Rigid need for rules and routine</li>
<li>Average to above average intelligence</li>
<li>Perseverative thought</li>
<li>Lack of eye contact</li>
<li>Difficulty organizing time</li>
<li>Inability to manage conflict</li>
<li>Anxiety in crowds</li>
<li>Speech delays</li>
<li>Language impairments</li>
</ul>
While you, who live outside of our little bubble might only witness the speech delays, or his 'slurred' speech, and an occasional meltdown, do not think for one moment that we do not struggle, at home, in private, out of your line of sight, with the rest of these things. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />In Malcolm's case.. He had HUGE Motor skill delays. Obsession over specific items? It's usually the cause of a HUGE fights between him and his brother. Reactions to stimuli? Why do you think we DON'T go to movies? Or the mall? or to any place that is exceptionally loud? Need for routine? Yes. There's a reason getting ready in the morning right now, as we're headed into summer, and warmer weather is a challenge. He only wants to wear his blue polar bear shirt. And he refuses to do his homework until his cup, filled with chocolate milk, and a peanut butter sandwich is in front of him. He only uses his green pencil. I have no idea what we're going to do when that green pencil is 1 inch long, and can't be sharpened any more. Are you getting the idea yet? This is all stuff you don't see.. because you don't live in our house and see him everyday. High Functioning Autistics, for the most part, are able to 'hold it together', when outside in 'our' world, when they know they need to. At school. While spending a night away from their parents. Etc. At home though, he's safe to retreat back into HIS world. A world where sounds are too much. Textures make food inedible. Looking others in the eye is too distracting from what they're saying. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />Am I getting through to you yet? To understand a high functioning autism, it's important to know the symptoms of the more classic or severe types that are not evident in this milder form of the disorder. High Functioning Autistics typically display:</div>
<ul style="line-height: 16px; list-style-type: square; margin: 10px 0px; padding: 0px 10px 0px 20px;">
<li>No physical or outward appearance of the disorder</li>
<li>May be able to perform most physical tasks without difficulty</li>
<li>Do not appear to have speech impediments or developmental delays</li>
<li>React appropriately when touched</li>
<li>No cognitive delays</li>
</ul>
Especially when out, in those places where they know they have to 'hold it together'. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />Again, let me reiterate. Just because they CAN hold it together, doesn't mean that they AREN'T Autistic. Doesn't mean that they can turn Autism on and off. And it certainly doesn't negate their very real "needs". Therapies. Routine. Doctors. Doctors. More Doctors. Awareness. Support. Patience. Family. Love. Steady, reliable and consistent relationships. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />Here are some things they DON'T need. Pity, Excuses, Isolation, People who "keep their distance", Stares, Comments, Spankings, Broken or Empty promises, Being ignored. Ignorance, Bigotry and Fear. There's many more things I could add to this list, but it would go on forever, and I'm getting tired. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />Ultimately, I'm writing this for one simple purpose. Treat Malcolm with the dignity, respect and love he deserves. You don't have speak in hushed tones around him. You don't have to relegate him to one corner of the house. You don't have to be afraid that he's going to break everything in your house, 'freak out' your kids, or pee his pants in the middle of your kitchen. In fact, it's probably YOUR kids that will freak him out, and unless you lock him out of the bathroom, he's completely potty trained. Just be aware of his "needs". Don't startle him. Don't turn the tv or radio up to 11. Don't expect him to eat the 11 course gourmet dinner. He's quite content with Mac N Cheese and other "yellow foods". Oh... and above all... Don't treat him like he's stupid. He's not. Chances are, he's a lot smarter than most of you reading this. I know he's a lot smarter than the one writing this. <br style="line-height: 16px;" /><br style="line-height: 16px;" />So yes. When I advocate and fight for funding, or services for ALL Autistics, because their "needs" are costly, please make NO mistake, I fight for Malcolm, first and foremost. And above all, make no mistake, the "needs" of Malcolm, and every child, teen and adult like him, HFA, are real NEEDS. </div>
NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-83621685822356591882013-04-30T08:57:00.001-04:002013-04-30T08:57:58.252-04:00I'm a Parent, and I'm human...My first thought is that The Orange Rhino Challenge was a utter failure. But then, as I think about it more, no. No it wasn't. It has definitely awakened something in both myself and my husband. And though we didn't manage to keep with the challenge for more than a week, we ARE aware that something needs to change.<br />
<br />
That said, I am reinstating the challenge. Day one. Afterall, we can't move forward, if we don't take that first step. Even if it's the second time we've taken that step, right?<br />
<br />
I will admit. I was unhappy, discouraged, and angry that the yelling started up again. I was disheartened by the ease at which we fell back into that old routine. But, something sparked, and I suddenly realized this could be viewed like any other adventure we undertake in this house. I mean, we didn't become 'experts' at World of Warcraft, Lord of the Rings Online, or any of the other multitude MMO's that we play, either overnight, or on the first try. In those games, when battling some new task, or monster, we died. A lot. And we respawned, back at the beginning, to retry said quest or task. So... This boss, that I am now calling "The Dennis Banshee", won the first battle. We have respawned though, and we will gather our wits, restock our inventory with the appropriate wares, and forge on, head first, once again into this evil spawn's pit of destruction, and hopefully vanquish her this time.NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-81040029646531890712013-04-30T08:32:00.000-04:002013-04-30T08:32:03.699-04:00A Different Kind of List for Autism Parents....<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">So, we've all seen the
multitude of lists published around the internet about what to say to an Autism
parent, what NOT to say to an autism parent, Things an Autistic child wished
you knew, etc, etc. I read them, these days, half-heartedly, and with even less
enthusiasm. Not that I don't agree with them whole-heartedly. I have just seen
so many, and most of them, anymore are just regurgitated, edited versions of
the originals. (Do we honestly even know where the originals are??) </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">I happened upon
another Autism Parent's blog, and saw his post about some of the things he
allows his Austie child to do, that most NT (Neuro-typical) parents would never
allow. Got me to thinking. (Not that it takes much to get the wheels turning.)
What behaviors and activities does our little prince get to take part in, that
most NT parents would cringe at? </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Some of these I encourage my son to
do because it's a typical thing that kids do. Some of these I let my
son do because I pick & choose my battles. And some I let him do
due to the limitations from his disability...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So here they are... no particular
order... the things we let the little tyrant…erm, prince, get away with:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>NOT DRINKING OUT OF A REGULAR CUP</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Sippy cups and sport bottles that stimulate
his vestibular system are a must. Even if he is 5. Just about every major milestone that Malcolm has hit, has come a great deal of turmoil, frustration and hard work on Malcolm's part. If he's not ready to give up this last vestige of 'baby-hood security', then I'm okay with that. The fact that I don't have to take it with us anymore is a major </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">achievement</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"> all it's own, and we rejoice in that little success, even as we're purchasing yet another bottle brush, so we can scrub out the rubber stopper that fits in the lid of the sippy cup that he uses at home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>TONS OF TV/VIDEO GAME/COMPUTER TIME.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is the ONLY time he can focus
and <b><u>relax</u></b>. So yeah, if he is
over stimulated I just let him play on the computer or veg out in front of the
tv for a while and it helps calm him down, while he is having fun. This is not
to say it’s the ONLY recourse we utilize. He spends time in his ‘safe zone’
(his bedroom, with the lights down, and the noise reduced.) but seriously, who
wants to be relegated to their bedroom everytime they’re having a bad day?
Sometimes, it’s okay to just partake in some mindless, meaningless activity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>NO HUGGING POLICY</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Not being "polite" by
hugging his relatives. Malcolm is not a touchy feel-y kinda guy. And I refuse
to make him hug someone he doesn't want to. That said, most everyone that
visits him regularly gets a hug and kiss from him, as long as you’re in his
‘inner circle’. If he </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">doesn't</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"> know you very well, or doesn't see you very
often, don’t get offended, and don’t take it personally. He has some severe
personal space and sensory issues. Remember, Mommy and Daddy didn't get to
cuddle with him until just very recently, and even then, it’s on HIS terms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>STAYING UP RIDICULOUSLY LATE IF HE
DOES NOT HAVE SCHOOL.</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We live and breathe our weekly routine, but occasionally,
we say to hell with it and just let him be the night owl that he truly is. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>MENTAL HEALTH DAYS</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Letting him out of school (or some
other scheduled activity) if he has had a really bad meltdown. I'm not saying
this is a regular fix. I’m not even saying it happens occasionally. In fact,
school has never been an issue, but some days- it really just is not worth the
battles that will occur if I don't bring him home or if we even leave the
house. Once he hits a certain point, the rest of the day is shot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>NOT MAKING HIM CLEAN HIS ROOM. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some days I require him to help,
some days, I just do it myself, but most days, we just leave it as is. Are hot
wheels, action figures, books and stuffed animals on the floor REALLY that
detrimental to anything else going on? Not really.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>EATING WITH YOUR HANDS</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is a combination of picking and
choosing my battles and adjusting my expectations due to Malcolm's fine motor
issues & major eating issues. When your kid doesn't eat very
well to begin with as long as he's getting it down I don't care that he uses
his hands. This might change in the future, but for now this is a
battle not worth fighting. If it gets him to eat a salad, I don't care if
he just shoves his face in the plate. He's eating, and that’s a win in my book.
Also- cleaning your plate is never required in this house.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>SPLASHING IN THE TUB OR POOL</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's a rite of passage for kids to
splash around in the tub. So what if water gets ALL OVER the
floor! That's what towels are for. Not to mention, it
took us YEARS to get him to a point where bath time wasn’t a nightly occasion
for a meltdown. And the pool?! That's what pools were meant
for... Splashing! Why are all the NT parents discouraging
splashing? What am I missing? Did I miss the memo? :-) I'm
the one Mom in the pool who's splashing water in my son's face. I
must look like a big jerk...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>EATING BREAKFAST FOR DINNER ...OR
POPCORN FOR BREAKFAST OR... SPOONFULS OF JELLY FOR LUNCH</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Again my kid's got major eating
issues, so when he's hungry he gets what he wants (usually) and that's
it. Other ASD parents know what I'm talking about. If he
wants cinnamon toast for Lunch, so be it. If he wants Spaghettio’s for
Breakfast, I’m breakin’ out the can opener. If he wants oatmeal for dinner,
open the box of Quaker Oats and rev up the microwave. I'll give my
kid a multivitamin to make up for the lack of nutrition.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>GETTING DIRTY IN THE PLAYGROUND</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every time I take Malcolm to the
playground I overhear at least one parent say "your getting your pants all
dirty!" WTF? This is what playgrounds are for! Getting
dirty!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>WATCHING TV DURING MEALS</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not every meal... but again you
gotta pick and choose your battles. If having a show on will get him
to eat more then I'm putting a show on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>NOT EATING AT THE TABLE</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mr. Malcolm usually does pretty good
at Breakfast. Lunch, he seems to do good at school. (At least we’ve gotten no
“He won’t stop wandering” complaints from his teachers… yet.) Dinner? We try to
make him sit at the table, but usually, it ends up being kind of a wandering
around-graze-fest, as he finds something else that is much more interesting
than mom’s cooking. He does return to refill his mouth, only to jaunt off as he
begins the slow process of chewing. Very few meals have captured his attention
long enough to turn it into a ‘sit down meal’. Mac N Cheese. Pizza (about half
the time.) Spaghetti. That’s about all I can think of at the moment. There
might be one or two more. Probably not though.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>JUMPING IN PUDDLES</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Back at the playground I hear NT
parents yelling "don't jump in that puddle!" Meanwhile I'm
on the other end of the playground trying to TEACH my kid how to jump in a
puddle. Jumping in puddles is another rite of passage, a part of
growing up... (Except between the months of November and March-ish, in the
Midwest… when most puddles also contain a great deal of ice and/or slush.) Then
I turn into the puddle-nazi. “NO!!” ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>TALKING TOO MUCH OR TOO LOUDLY</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My kid was non-verbal until about a
year ago, so usually, the chatter doesn’t bother me. We don’t tolerate
screaming, for the sake of screaming, or screaming at his sibling,
but for the most part, his voice is nothing but music to our ears. We love
hearing him go off on a tangent, even if others barely understand him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>SITTING IN THE CART AT THE
SUPERMARKET/STORE</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He’s been pushing him to walk more
lately and he's been doing pretty good... due to his school going on field
trips every 2 or 3 weeks. But if we need to get in & out
of Walmart quickly or if Malcolm is having a bad afternoon I have no problem
stuffing my 5 (almost 6) year old into the cart and giving him a bag of popcorn
and a book to keep him happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>JUMPING ON HIS BED..</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I can remember just a few years back
when Malcolm didn't know how to jump. And they would work at it in his
occupational therapy sessions. Now he's a jumping machine. And we
encourage it. Why? It’s good for him. It’s called compression therapy, and it
helps bring his little body into alignment, calm him down, and divert meltdowns
before they happen. It gives him some much needed input, that he
isn’t getting otherwise. We don’t have a trampoline, so uses his bed like a
trampoline. Now 3-5 more inches and he'll be hitting the ceiling
when he jumps on the bed. But we will allow it until the bed breaks or he hits
his head on the ceiling....whichever comes first. :-)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-37330168146988719172013-04-05T20:55:00.000-04:002013-04-05T21:12:26.699-04:00iPad Frenzy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Please help us earn an iPad for our son, Malcolm, who was diagnosed with Autism 3 years ago. Just remember that Malcolm Dennis is the challenger, when you're placing an order!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.thepuzzlingpiece.com/products_ic.thml" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;">The Puzzling Piece</span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
^^^^^^ Click this link to ^^^^^^^</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
head over the Challenge product order page!</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #171717; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-15313838459596877852013-04-04T10:05:00.002-04:002013-04-05T21:11:51.939-04:00You Can't Yell When You Have A Mouth Full Of Jelly Beans!<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">4 days and still going! It's definitely been a challenge, but I feel so much better about my parenting! I've also discovered that it's almost impossible to yell with jelly beans in your mouth (thank you Easter bunny!) Until I get the hang of it, I may have to find a lower calorie way to 'distract' myself! LOL!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some other Distractions I've discovered that work a LOT better than walking away or counting:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Sticking my head in the freezer to 'cool off'.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Grab a glass of water and "Swallow that Yell". A sip of cold water works wonders!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Grab the camera. It makes a much better picture, and my boys are such cheeseheads, they stop WHATEVER they're doing to pose for a camera</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Yeah, the urge to snap and yell is still there. A LOT. It's only been four days. But a deep breath, and a silent, "I can do this." helps me to remember, I'm not just doing this for me. I'm doing this for them. </span><br />
NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-29406567289251555322013-03-31T07:05:00.000-04:002013-03-31T07:05:20.938-04:00A New ChallengeFirst and foremost, let me wish you all a very Happy Easter! I haven't blogged in quite some time. I know, I know. Bad Blogger. Life has been kind of crazy. And when I say "kind of" I mean like "totally-completely- lock-us-up-in-a-white-padded-room-and-slap-on-the-straight-jacket-crazy".<br />
<br />
We all know the challenges, frustrations and difficulties we parents face raising our little ones. Having a 5 year old with Autism and a 3 year old at home has proven to be not as picturesque and movie-bliss-like as we'd thought. Who's know that 75% of our time would be spent reversing inappropriate behaviors, reinforcing time-outs and losing arguments to the little people that have taken, by force, control of our house. (When did little people develop such strength and determination??)<br />
<br />
So, we have found ourselves in an age old dilemma. "When did I become that parent that yells all the time?" I don't like it. Swore I would never become it. Have no idea when it started, or how it got so out of control. The one thing I <span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><b>DO</b></span> know.. is that it's not working.<br />
<br />
So, in my latest attempt to escape the chaos that is my house, I found myself on pinterest. Scrolling through the memes, the "I must have's" for the closet, the house and the garden, dream wedding ideas, and various projects to keep the little ones occupied during spring break, I happened upon a rather non-descript, simple little pin, of a child (or small adult) in a bathroom sink, reading a book with an orange rhino on the front. The caption was "[Tired of Yelling?] .... " I clicked it, and lo and behold, there was a link. Hmm.. I clicked it, and a bright orange website popped up. WOW. Can't miss that one! But at the top, there was a button. "417 days without yelling!" Hmmm...This might be worth clicking around for a few moments. Let's see....<br />
<br />
Nothing spectacular. No "4 easy payments of just $19.99". No annual membership fee. Simple, easy ideas, to curb the yelling. Like Sticking your head in the freezer for a couple of minutes, until you 'cool down'. Pounding your chest like a gorilla to vent frustration. Silly, yup. But apparently, it's working. And it makes the kids laugh, which is a bonus, whether we realize it or not. Remember what they were doing that caused you to explode? Yeah... They're not doing that anymore, because they're too busy giggling at their frozen gorilla momma. Hey.. at this point, I'm willing to give up some self-respect, for peaceful quiet and harmony in my house.<br />
<br />
So....<br />
<br />
What wild and insane project has prompted me to pick up the pen and journal once more? (Okay, yeah, click my link to my blogger page, and pound on the keyboard for 10 minutes.) I've decided that this Orange Rhino Challenge was worth checking out... and definitely worth putting some effort into. So, here, and on my facebook page, I'll be documenting my progress... Wish me luck!<br />
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<a href="http://theorangerhino.com/" nbsp="" target="The Orange Rhino"><img src="http://theorangerhino.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/button5.jpg" /></a>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-61025081602377678662012-03-23T19:59:00.001-04:002012-03-23T19:59:34.921-04:00The Walking Dead Season 2 Finale!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">***WARNING!!!***</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">If you have not yet seen this, or are still catching up on Season 2, there ARE some spoilers in this video!!! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Watch only if you do NOT care about spoilers!!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="243" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/K4TpOEa3bZs" width="420"></iframe></span></div>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-60408280702036585962012-03-23T19:56:00.000-04:002012-03-23T19:56:24.354-04:00Little Rose Dialogues 03-23-12<span style="background-color: white;">Just a few of my thoughts <span style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">about lack of etiquette on airplanes, during debates and amongst some home-based business fanatics.</span></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="243" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/XMjkSFsZn-0" width="420"></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-40478618453702481602012-02-13T14:53:00.000-05:002012-02-15T11:28:08.485-05:00How to create Victory Rolls!Whether you want a new everyday look, or you're looking to WOW them at that Retro Party next Saturday night... THIS is how you do it!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="233" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ALMekX6WzA4" width="400"></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-3086791097239240112012-02-13T14:48:00.001-05:002012-02-15T11:28:08.486-05:00Dramatic Rockabilly MakeupWant that dramatic Rockabilly look for Saturday night? Watch and learn!!!<br />
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<iframe width="400" height="233" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tkgWVGgZxtQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-67114739222218874202012-02-13T14:46:00.003-05:002012-02-15T11:28:08.487-05:00Mary Kay Ultimate Miracle Set Facial Tutorial!For all of you who have been wondering HOW it works, How to do it, or in which order the products were used... This is for you!<br />
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<iframe width="400" height="233" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xn0zFfi8gH0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-71803877919678223922012-02-07T19:55:00.001-05:002012-02-12T06:03:45.499-05:00Pinup Hairstyle Previews<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1L9CT88eYhk?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="237" width="420"></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-27634052266095136112012-02-03T04:37:00.001-05:002013-03-31T08:17:31.339-04:00Licorice Induced Musings...Seeing as it's 4 o'clock in the morning, it would more than likely be frowned upon, if I had some Smirnoff induced musings... or would those just be drunken ramblings? I don't know. What I -DO- know is this... <span style="color: #cc0000;">Red Vines Rock at ANY hour</span>. But I digress....<br />
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So a lot has happened since my post. A LOT. So much, in fact, that for a time, I actually forgot ABOUT my blog, entirely! It wasn't until I was cleaning up my favorite's list, that I saw the link and thought, "Omg, I should start blogging again! How crazy is that, right?"<br />
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As I said, a LOT has been going on. Up's and down's. Well, without getting into TOO much. Malcolm is doing amazing. He's talking. A lot. But only when it suits him. Or the mood hits... Usually when he wants more of something. Usually Milk. And cookies. Of course, Jace is following suit. Hey, it works for big brother, right??? But every little bit of progress, is just that. Progress. So, I'll take it.<br />
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That's not to say I won't expect a little more later on. But I take what he's willing to give, when he's willing to give it. It's a forward movement. It's not backwards. (Which we were doing a lot of, when he was medicated.) And it's not standing still. :)<br />
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We're making plans to move. Out of state. To Texas, actually. Can I put into words just how excited this makes me? Probably not. Because I'm pretty <b>****in'</b> excited! (Yes, -I- edited that for all of you! ;P ) I just hope San Antonio can handle this Diva, because I have HUGE plans. To pretty much take over the city, and make it MINE. LOL! No one ever said my day dreams and goals were PRACTICAL. I just said they were big and fantastic.<br />
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The one thing I'm not really looking forward to though, is the loud, screaming, blatant, in-your-face absence of my Gram. While we'd been making our plans, and day dreaming of our new life in Texas, never once, did I include the scenario that she wouldn't be included. Did I honestly think she'd live to be 235 years old? Maybe. Probably. Okay. Yes. Yes I did. She didn't quite make it. She DID, however, make it to 90. Which is pretty amazing, in and of itself. She was definitely a fighter.And I <b>REALLY REALLY</b> miss her. <br />
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On the other hand, I think she'd be REALLY excited, and downright giddy, and my new obsession with retro/rockabilly. Especially hair and makeup. Like I wasn't already obsessed with these two things, but I'm loving this whole new Rockabilly Diva thing!! LOL. Yes. It's the little things. I take them when I can. Because a lot of the time, I'm so caught up in the small, isolating world of "Autism Parenting", that I often shelve those things that make me smile. So. When I -DO- bring those things down, and dust them off, they bring me immense amounts of joy. Playing with hair products and make up, just happen to be near the top of my list of 'Happy Pleasures'.... Sue me. No wait. Don't. I have enough people trying to get money from me already. ;P<br />
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And of course, seeing as it's 4:30 in the morning now... and I'm carrying quite a nice Red Vines buzz, and sleep is probably not going to return any time soon, I will plug in my curling iron, and get to work on some new self proclaimed amazing new 'dos. (Yes, self proclaimed. I honestly don't give a flyin' fig if anyone else likes them. I do.) And yes... I'll post pictures when I'm done with my own little private makeover session. ;))<br />
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Until then..... Don't be a drag..... Just be a queen! (Another new obsession = Lady Gaga! ZOMG!)<br />
<br />NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-62648022631653862972011-09-03T01:04:00.001-04:002012-02-03T03:50:18.176-05:00It's THAT time of year again!<embed align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" bgcolor="#ffffff" flashvars="datapath=http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/gadgets&curr=$&honorcolor=0x4f91cd&honortitle=Walk Now for Autism Speaks - Donors&supid=0&eid=470975&tid=4834856" height="220" name="flashhonorroll" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" src="http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/gadgets/honorroll.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="220"></embed><br />
<a href="https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorreg/donorpledge.asp?ievent=470975&supID=336151262" style="background-color: #4f91cd; color: white; font-family: arial; font-weight: bolder; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; width: 220;" target="_blank">Click Here to Donate</a><br />
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The Walk Now for Autism Speaks: Fort Wayne is coming up this Oct!! Our Team, "Team Malcolm" is committed to raising $500.00, and building our Team to TEN Members! Why wouldn't you help this amazing little boy, and hundreds of thousands just like him??<br />
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<br />NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0Fort Wayne, IN, USA41.079273 -85.13935129999998740.962107 -85.288715799999991 41.196439 -84.989986799999983tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-56640756021797064752011-08-29T20:49:00.001-04:002012-02-03T03:26:20.005-05:00This Diva LOVES Pink!I know, the title is a bit obvious. Right? Between the pink hair. My pink Facebook page, and all the pink I put EVERYWHERE, perhaps it's even a bit redundant. But.. I have a NEW Pink Love!!!!<br />
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Yup! You guessed it. As if there would be ANY strain on the imagination to come to this conclusion. I mean, seriously. It's skin care. And it's AMAZING skin care! The ONLY skin care company to earn the Good Housekeeping Seal! What does that mean for you? It means, that everything Mary Kay promises her TimeWise Miracle set will do, IT.WILL.DO!! And if, for some strange reason it doesn't, you can either exchange the product for something else, or get 100% of your money back! Guaranteed! Fabulous much??? I know!! <br />
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But also, they have this uber fabulous makeup line! And let me tell you, as someone who LOVES make up, I doubt I will EVER go back to experimenting with over the counter, mass production make up again. What do I mean by Mass Production Makeup? I mean, anything you buy at Walmart, CVS, or Walgreens. Not that they're BAD products, per'se, I have just found the ONE line, that does it ALL, as well as they say they do! No more mixing and matching to get that perfect look. And no more wasted compacts, because I've run out of one color faster than the rest. Yup, you know what I'm talking about. How super fab is that!?!? Sooo, if you want to try some Mary Kay, (and I know you do!), or if you've used Mary Kay before, and need a new consultant, I'm the girl for you! Pink hair and all!NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-48276274175250909662011-06-01T02:01:00.000-04:002011-06-01T02:01:04.805-04:00Malcolm's almost as big a Diva, as his mother!I'm pretty sure... Nothing else needs to be said. LOL!!!<br />
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<iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8KeMqdS5kwI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-71253339029356433852011-05-12T01:33:00.000-04:002011-06-01T01:59:27.361-04:00A Long Awaited Moment...Most parents take for granted those "I love you's" after hearing them day in and day out for months, or years. But what would you do, if for 3 years, you NEVER heard that phrases uttered? "I love you." "I love Mommy." or "I love Daddy." are often the first phrases we teach our children, and so often, they become the phrases parents most often take for granted....... <br />
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Hopefully, this will help you see. EVERY "I love you." is as important, and as precious as the first time it is uttered...<br />
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<iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jIbm-m0zLSg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1978528437488603055.post-52020375357976760402011-02-04T10:35:00.001-05:002011-02-04T10:38:02.160-05:00She's BACK!!Yeah, I know. I've been less than diligent when it comes to updating. Life tends to take on a life of it's own, when you have a 3 year old and a 1 year old. Crazy, huh? <br />
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And I don't have much to report (well, actually I do, but it would be a years worth of catch up, and I just don't feel like the typing it all out. :P ) so for now, I will just leave it at.... <br />
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The Diva is Back! <br />
And for your viewing pleasure.... One of many updates I plan to make with this particular blog. <br />
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I'm taking it to video! <br />
<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="400" height="255" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EgCynRtQbZs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>NyteBeautihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04748060450312129034noreply@blogger.com0