I’m supposed to be doing a lot of things, but instead I’m concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Some days feel rough around the edges, but there are parts that are like those chocolates that have the awesome gooey centers. Owen’s smile makes my day, his laughter is contagious, but his cries break my heart. Last night he seemed to be happy, and then as he laid there trying to sleep, he started crying. It’s emotions he can’t describe, but there they were. All I could do is hold him, letting him know I was here. He fell asleep quickly after that, and slept most of the night. I could hardly sleep last night. Everything, and nothing woke me. When I picked Owen up from school, he started talking to me. He recites all the different places he wants to go, and the phrases he knows. As we drove, we talked about each light as we were coming up to them. I’m trying to find ways to lessen the meltdowns over the one particular light. As we are approaching the lights I will say, “what color is it”, going on to tell him the color, and that we may, or may not have to stop. He now says, “what color is it” as we drive down the road, sometimes saying the colors. I was anxious, and hopeful as we approached the light that always causes him meltdowns. My new strategy hadn’t worked yet, but I felt good about today. The light right before it turned green as soon as we stopped, I was hoping the next one would turn green. I prepared him, I had to stay calm, and ahead we went. We had to stop. I talked, and talked, and talked as we sat there. His voice got a squeak in it. I heard it. I talked louder. Seconds seemed like hours. I told him to count to ten if he was upset, that we would be through the light soon. The numbers were rambled off quickly, and the light changed, but the meltdown did not start. I celebrate that huge victory with him. I shouted, “you did it I’m so proud of you”. He said, “we are home we will be soon”. And off to home I drove. This was a huge moment for us, thankful for his progress. I’m still walking on eggshells, but I think the strategy is working. Rejoice in your victories, celebrate your journeys, and keep moving forward. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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Owen woke in an interesting mode; happy, confused, mad, it all seemed to be mixed together. I did not turn the lights on in the proper order, and then I turned my bedroom light on. He certainly was not ready for that. These are grounds for meltdowns. “No”, he screamed. And he held it for a long time. I asked him if he wanted to go to school, I went on before he screamed again. I told him we had to get dressed if he wanted to go. He ran off to the living room. I heard his tablet going. I was thankful he had the distraction for a moment. I walked to the living room, he immediately started naming off the different days of the week, and what he does on those days. He can say the days of the week in order, but this was a mixture of the days, yelling them out at me, looking for some order in his routine. I have to really think through what day of the week it actually is. I’ve tried different types of schedule reminders with him, but nothing has clicked. I got a new schedule board, hoping this one will do the trick. I know that routine helps him focus, and I’m trying to figure out ways to bring it all together for him. It’s interesting how he processes time. It’s almost like he can sense time, but he can’t tell time. I got him his own clock, hoping that he will make a connection to when we do things. I set timers for Owen, so he can associate that with his actions. He is now setting his own timers, and telling me to set them when he wants to do something. I haven’t figure out how to explain to him that it doesn’t always work that way, but I’m excited that he is getting the concept. I am thankful for the leaps, and bounds he is making in our world full of routine, and boundaries. Find what inspires you, put time on your side, and make today matter. Smiles to all and donut daze!
When we walk out our door I’m on full alert, always. Our house has a porch, with steps that leads to a walk, with more steps. These steps cause my heart to race. Owen can walk up, and down steps perfectly fine, when he wants to, and when he is paying attention, but when he is trying to see the world in a different way, with his eyes squinted, and his ears covered, stairs become an instant source of concern. If you were to put an octopus in a fun house that has a monkey riding sidesaddle, and he’s trying to put on shoes, that is about as close as you can come to what it’s like. Owen’s arms are in every direction, his shoes slightly skate off the edge of the step so he clomps down on the next step, with me trying to hold his arm almost upwards to keep some kind of balance for both of us. And he can walk the stairs fine. I’ve practiced, and practiced with him. I’ve taken him to doctors, talked to therapists, read those how to books, and yet here we are slip-sliding away on the stairs. We got to the bus stop, and Owen was delighted. He was so excited that the few cars that passed got a big “tell them hi” from Owen, yelling across the street as the drove past. He saw a light in the distance, and he immediately started moving towards it. This meant him taking off down the street. He only got about four steps in front of me, but he easily would have run towards it. We had the talk about watching were he was going, and that he couldn’t go in the street like that, but, must sip my coffee to keep the tears away, he doesn’t even understand the boundaries of where the street, and the sidewalk meet. The world is one big open playground for Owen. This is so emotional for me. My baby has no understanding about the rules of the world. He was so happy when he saw the bus come around the corner. He couldn’t wait until he was on it. The joy in his eyes is something I wish everyone could experience. Truly amazing. Sometimes the simply pleasures in life are exactly what we need. Find happiness in your world. Share your joy, celebrate even the tiniest of victories, and know that today is the first day of the rest of your life. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Some days I want to sit. Nothing else. I don’t want to hear a noise. Not one noise. I want to reflect in my own thoughts. It’s funny, as I wrote “own” I automatically typed “Owen”. I walked to my bedroom, flipped my light on, and I instantly heard the scream. He’s in the living room, my bedroom is around the corner. He can’t see my room directly from the living room, but he either saw the shadows the light cast, or he heard the noise from the light switch. I turned it off immediately. I still needed to go in my room, but I used the flashlight from my phone; the work around to keep the peace. He’s been happy since we’ve been home; I don’t want the light to send him into a meltdown. Some days I leave the light on, if he doesn’t scream, or if he comes in the room with me; other days I know it is too much for him to process. He’s asked to go to all of his favorite places, and now he is bowling on one of his apps since we didn’t go bowling. I think he would be happy if we could install a bowling lane right here in the house. I never imagined how much he would love bowling. I’m trying to take him to more places, and do more things with him, but I’m still cautious about what we do. His anxiety runs high some days, mine does too. If I try to take him to places after he has had a meltdown during the day, the place we go to then gets associated with those emotions. He has cried about the post office for days, and we haven’t been in a month. I never bring it up, but he constantly talks about it. As many words as he now has he still can’t express all his feelings, and emotions. I see his growth, I hear his growth, and I long for the day my baby can express exactly what he wants to say. I look over at Owen, and we both smile. He giggles a little, and goes back to playing his game. The smile gets me past my own anxiousness. I’m trying to focus on doing more things for me. I know that it is important to take care of myself. Painting has become my new love, and luckily it is something I can do with Owen, as well. Find a new hobby, explore our world, or sit home, and read a book, but take time for you. You are important. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Owen slept until about five, got into bed with me, and then fell back asleep until after seven. He had talked a lot during the night. He’s been doing that more lately. His brain can’t seem to settle, but most days when he wakes he seems rested. I see more confidence in Owen, and he is learning to do things on his own. I now put his milk cup in the refrigerator, ready for him. When he wakes he runs to the refrigerator, opens the door, takes his milk, and puts it on his table. I have to remind him to close the door, but this is a big step for his independence, and this feels huge to me. He’s having a great morning, interacting with me, and listening to directions well. He doesn’t seem like he is anxious at all. When he is anxious, I’m anxious. Yesterday, as we were driving home, Owen looked at each of the stoplights as we were approaching them. “What color is it”, he said. I have been trying to find ways to comfort him when we get to the light that has caused him so many meltdowns. I explain that we have to stop at red lights, and what the green, and yellow lights mean. It’s helping him make the connection of what we are doing, and why we doing it. He also made the connection to a video that he watched when he younger, that asked what color different objects are. He has started watching the whole series again. I love watching how his brain works. We didn’t have to stop at the light yesterday, and I know that one day he will be able to tell me more about the lights, but for today I’m excited about his growth, and the connections he is making. We can not change where we have been, but we can control where we are going. Find what inspires you, celebrate your victories, and belief in the possibilities of the life you want. Put your faith in the hope for tomorrow. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Feeling accomplished with a side of, what the heck did we just do. The overwhelming sensation of being overwhelmed has struck me today, but I’m pushing through it all. We sat outside Cabela’s, this time Owen wasn’t screaming, or crying, but he kept telling me he didn’t want to go see the fish. All morning he asked, and I told him we would go. We got there, and he decided he didn’t want to go. “Wanna nope let’s nope”, he said. He went on, “wanna go see the fish nope let’s nope”. I want to laugh, and cry. “Wanna nope”, that’s the best expression ever, but that’s my baby’s emotions. I sat there for a moment, wondering if it was the right thing to push him to go inside. He has loved the fish every time we’ve gone, but the last few times we’ve tried have lead to complete meltdowns. This is emotional for both of us. Nothing like having your heart race, and your head about to explode as you walk into a store, but there we went. He did fine, he did better than fine. He was excited to see the fish, wanting to see the long gone Santa, and talking to the people as we walked along. In fact he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to leave at all. He stood there counting the fish for me, referencing the gooey fish from the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and talking about the store. I walked him around looking at the other animals they have displayed, telling him what they were. I had to tell him we were going to “bobP ebins resRonT” for us to leave, promising that we could come see the fish again tomorrow. Sometimes I don’t know when to push us, or let go of something. It’s very emotional. I might as well say extremely emotional. But here we sit, eating at Bob Evans restaurant, after going to see the fish. I have to remember these moments when I’m struggling to put one foot in front of the other. He’s covered in eggs, and for that matter I am too, but we are getting out in the world, and this gives me so much hope for Owen. I can tell you it’s a lot easier to sit at home, even though I still can’t control all the circumstances, it’s easier to distract Owen, and keep him occupied. I’m thankful for his growth, I’m thankful today was successful, and we’re ready to set off on our next adventures for the day. Don’t wait for the life you want to come knocking on your door, go out, and make the life you want. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Owen didn’t want to wake up this morning. I was with him on that. He had gotten into bed with me around four, but luckily he fell quickly back to sleep; I didn’t. When we did get out of bed he immediately started screaming “no”. The screams continued. I told him it was a school day, and that he would be riding the bus soon. He seemed a little disoriented. The more I talked to him, the more it seemed he could focus on the day ahead. I’m always trying to stay one step ahead of his emotions, and mine. I wish he could tell me how his day was at school; I ask anyways. He is stuck on a loop he can’t get out of. We’ve been home for over an hour, and for most of that hour he has asked to see the fish, and go to the post office. He now cries over both of them, and that is what he keeps asking for. He was in the post office for all of five minutes, about a month ago, and it occupies so much of his thoughts. I get weepy thinking about all of this. He loved the fish too, until he didn’t, but here we are discussing the fish every day. I’m going to take him to see different fish, maybe that will help. He’s bowling on one of his apps. I hope that he continues to love bowling. It’s always a concern that something he loves will trigger emotions for him. One day at a time, rinse, repeat. I try not to worry. But I worry a lot. Some days I have to remind myself to stay calm. Some days that is easier than others. I have been distracting him by having him play his guitar. It seems to be working. The calmer I can keep him, the calmer I am. And the opposite is true too. I know that with his limited vocabulary he is also trying find ways to communicate with me, even if I can’t always understand what he is trying to express. We are both learning and growing. Today I’m thankful for Owen’s smile. It gets me through those moments when everything seems to be a big question, or I feel like I’m not accomplishing anything. Autism is as much about how I handle it, as it is about Owen having it. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. What are you waiting for. Make today matter. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Owen had a rough night. He woke around four, got into bed with me, and started talking to me about the fish. He’ll say, “let’s go see the fish”, but then when I say, let’s go, he immediately says, “no fish”. I’ve tried to take him anyways, but once we get to the store he immediately goes into meltdown mode. It’s so hard for me to process how to help him with this. He asked Santa for two things, church, and fish; yet he wants nothing to do with the fish. This in itself was huge, he asked for something from Santa. I feel like he is starting to understand more about Christmas, however we are still singing Christmas songs, and will for months to come. One day at a time I think. Owen is getting better about the days of the week, and what happens on them, but yet he still isn’t always connecting what day it actually is. I have to remind myself of what day we are on, constantly looking to make sure I’m correct. He has such a great memory, and the more words he learns, the more he makes those connections to his memories. I hear words I said to him so long ago tumbling out of his mouth. I’m amazed, and daunted all at the same time. It also keeps me on my toes now, making me reflect on my tones, and actions with him. I listen to his words, and the inflection he carries with those words. He will make himself sound like a character, or a tone, even like me. We drove by a Taco Bell the other day, and being Owen’s tour guide I always tell him what places are, and how they relate to us. I told him mommy likes to get food there, I asked him to say Taco Bell. He said, “ding ding ding”. I can’t argue with that. I told him good job. I asked him to repeat Taco Bell, but he kept saying the noise. We’ll try again another day. On the way home Owen kept asking for his milk, repeatedly. I told him we would get some when we got home. As soon as we walked in the door Owen went to the refrigerator, opened the door, and got his milk. Feeling accomplished. I have been leaving his cup in the refrigerator full of milk, explaining that he could get his milk when he wanted it, and there he was getting it. I had to remind him to close the door, but wow, a huge victory for us. I see growth, and my little boy shining more, and more every day. Never give up on your hopes, and dreams. Celebrate the littlest of victories, because they can be the greatest of rewards. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Have you ever tried to dress a slinky that is slinking down the stairs, a hundred miles per hour, and has swim fins on. That’s about how it is getting Owen dressed in the mornings. He woke with his mission in mind. School. He slept all night, got out of bed, stopped in the hallway - this is a new thing, I can only imagine he is crouching there, and then runs to my bed. He got into it from the end, then changed his mind, got out, and came to face me, climbing on top of me. “Today is Monday”, he declares. He went on, “skoo let’s go to skoo today”. I told him, yes you go to school today. He immediately bolted up, “let’s go”, he says. I told him that he still had forty-five minutes before he could go to school. He moved on to milk to get me up. I told him we could get up whenever he was ready; he was pretty much laying across me at this point, so I waited. He got up, and I was getting up, but slower. He turns to me, and says, “timer went off get up fifteen minutes count to hundred”. There are so many great connections in all of that, my heart did a happy dance. He couldn’t wait to go to school. He was being very patient though. I kept telling him how much time we had left, and he was ready. Walking out our door brought the same school vibes as before. He tried to cover his ears, and his eyes, but yet wanting to see it all. He was talking about the days of the week, it’s Wednesday, but starting back to school on a day in the middle of the week is confusing to him. Sip of my hot chocolate to get me through this moment; my tears want to break lose of their barricades. He’s doing so incredibly well, but how do you explain that life is anything but routine. Time is ever changing, and moments don’t stand still. I have to remember this myself, some days. I know he will have a great day being back at school. It also might throw him off routine, because he has to get back in the swing of things, but the structure is exactly what he thrives on. One day at a time, one moment at a time, one second at a time, keep pushing forward, whatever it takes. Let yesterday go, and focus on what’s yet to come. There are great things waiting for you, make it happen. Smiles to all and donut daze!
Another year has come, and gone, but today I feel more determined than ever. I can dream, and dream, and dream some more, but it’s the actions that make the dreams come true. I know what will make a better life for us, and today I’m focusing on how to make it happen. I look at Owen, and he inspires me to be a better me. In the last few weeks I have seen more connections to everything we are doing. His vocabulary is becoming more fluid, and connecting to the moments in time. He looks like he grew overnight. How did my baby’s feet get that big, I wonder. His poor toes show the wear, and tear of his jumping constantly. He bends his toes almost under his foot, and then jumps. And if he isn’t jumping, he is banging them into things. Trying to convince him to wear shoes in the house is not even an option he would like to think about. When we walk in the door everything comes off but his shirt, and diaper. For that I am thankful. I watch his feet as he plays his app. It’s almost like his foot becomes a club banging the one repeatedly on the floor, and then changing to the other one. It’s all part of his stimming. I see his smile shining through his eyes today. He asked for all his favorite places. When he said school, I told him he would be going tomorrow. He got about an inch from my nose, repeating school over, and over again. I told him in the morning he would get to go. “Let’s go to skoo today”, he said. I can’t wait to see his face when he gets on the bus tomorrow. He keeps running around yelling “cracker”, which is what he calls veggie straws. He has a whole plate full, but keeps asking for more, for more than an hour. So I grabbed him up, and the tickle fest began. His laughter is contagious. We laughed for ten minutes, and he promptly got up asking for cracker. When something is on his mind he can’t let go off it. He is eating his beloved cracker, and has asked for it continuously since he sat down. Some days I can block out the words, other days it feels little tiny drill holes being pushed into my head when it is accompanied with the screaming, screeching, and shrill tones that brings him such delight. As I look to our future I focus on the amazing things yet to come, knowing that through hard work, together we will accomplish great things, and maybe eat a cracker, or two. Celebrate your victories, celebrate ours, and know that you can do anything if you set your mind to it. Happy New Year. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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AuthorI'm Lynn Browder. Owen's Mommy. The best moments in time are when I get to see the smile on his face and that giggle come from his heart. Archives
April 2024
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