A Bit of Earth

The picture that you see is a tiny butternut squash that I am currently growing in our raised beds.  This year, I took charge of the garden, and butternut was a must.  It's one of my favorites.

In the book, "The Secret Garden" by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Mary Lennox does not want dolls or toys to pass the time.  Instead, she asks, "Might I have a bit of earth?"  I feel like Mary sometimes.  I've found that I am happiest and most at peace when I'm working outside, planting things and watching them change and grow. I learned almost all I know of gardening from my grandmother, Rose Hatcher.  She grew up on a farm in Tolar, Texas.  Almost all the food they had, they grew, and they canned and stored things in a root cellar.  Later in life when she found herself living alone in town, she made the most of her residential plot and created a huge garden every year.  I can still smell the tomatoes and okra, which grew to at least five feet tall if not taller.  I remember neat rows of onions and summer peaches.  And I remember sitting with her in her kitchen with the back door open while she snapped beans or shucked corn.

Now that I have my own kids, I have a huge herb and flower garden and my husband built a small section of raised beds.  For some reason, this year I have really been bitten by the gardening bug and can't seem to stop finding spaces to put things.  Any nook or cranny will do.  The raised beds have butternut and yellow squash, radishes, roma tomatoes, bell peppers, peas, and beans.  And zinnias.  (Hey, companion planting, right?)  I've also planted calla lilies, moonflowers, Rebecca clematis, pink climbing roses, sage, mint, basil, and a fir tree that my son thought would look great in the middle of my amaryllis plot.  It had to be uprooted and repotted...but I'm hoping for a living Christmas tree at some point.  Lavender, Banana Cream shasta daisies, sombrero blanket flowers, and Big Max pumpkins (what was I thinking?  They grow up to 100 pounds.  I know...I should have done it sooner!) round it out.

I'm grateful for the time I get to spend outside, and I'm grateful to my grandmother for passing her knowledge onto me.  If only she could see me now...did she ever think that the weekends she spent with her granddaughter would turn into something like this?  I only remember that going to her house was fun, because she paid attention to me and treated me like I was important.  She included me in everything she did, and even though she's gone, what she gave me will last forever, because I will pass it on to my kids, too.

What I Really, Really Want, and Not Just For Mother's Day

Above you will see a picture of me and my mother.  I think I was in my very early twenties in this picture.  My mom put up with a lot of stuff from me, but as you can see, she loved me very much, and still does.  When I think of the amount of Play-Dough stuck in her gold shag carpet, or the meltdown over jeans that didn't fit magically overnight (brought back the wrong size from the store by accident), I realize that she is probably destined for sainthood or deserves to meet Paul McCartney in person (except she would have a heart attack, so she can't).  It got me thinking about what moms really want for Mother's Day, and then I started thinking, no, just, what do we want?  Besides on Mother's Day?  It's a given that we're going to get flowers, or breakfast in bed, or a cookie, or coupons for free hugs, or something cute that our kids make, and we love it!  But what about the rest of the year?  So here is a list:


1)We want our kids to be safe and happy.  That's why we have rules.  To prevent them from doing something that will, ultimately, put them in danger or make them unhappy.

2)We want our spouses to be safe and happy.  That's why we have rules.  Just kidding.  No, really.

3)We want our bodies to return to their original size and shape.  We all do.  We would like it to be a given that after we're done having babies, then this will happen, that some magical person will appear and say, here's twenty thou.  Go get nipped and tucked or personally trained or whatever you have to do. *sigh*

4)We would like to not be asked why we are upset, stressed, angry, demented, grumpy, etc, etc, etc.  Every now and then, we will have a bad day.  Why?  Why is the sky blue?  Why does cereal turn soggy in milk?  Because there is some sort of chemical reaction going on.  That's why.  No, actually, it's because I said so.  Now beat it.

5)We would like you to pick up after yourself.  You live here.  We should not have to tell you.  We should not have to ask you.  Just pick up your dirty clothes and dishes.  This is not a frat house during Rush Week.  Unfortunately.

6)We want to pee.  We want to pee without someone banging on the door or yelling at us.  You should be bleeding. You should be coding on a crash cart.  Make sure you are doing these things before you bang on the door.

7)We want to go out with our friends every now and then.  With no children attached to any of our bodily appendages.  And we don't want to feel guilty about it after.

8)We want to run.  Away.  Screaming.  Sometimes.

9)We would like our husbands to experience PMS at least once.  We'll provide the bathrobe and the Midol.  Whether or not they get chocolate depends on how well they maintain their good mood.

10)We want to shower in peace,or perhaps, take a bubble bath.  It's essential to our well-being that we clean ourselves up, put on makeup, and fix our hair.  No wait.  It's essential to YOUR well-being.

11)We want our families to know that we love them so much we would die for them, and that's why we cook, and clean the house, and do everything that we do.  What?  No, we don't actually enjoy cleaning and waking up early.  Get out of here.

Now, provided that this list doesn't happen (and I suspect that at least numbers 3,6,8, and 9 probably WON'T), then a macaroni bracelet will suffice.  Happy Mother's Day, to all women in the trenches.  You're doing good. No,  you're not done.  But, good job.

Bumps in the Road

I think I wrote an entry on this blog about the medications used to alleviate the symptoms of autism.  While there is no known cure for autism, there are some medications out there that have proven helpful in reducing anxiety, self-harming tendencies, and other aspects of the disorder.

For a long time, our son was on Risperdone, which is the generic of Risperdal.  Risperdal is an anti-psychotic medication that is used to treat schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, or "irritability associated with autistic disorder" (http://www.rxlist.com/risperdal-drug/indications-dosage.htm).  Unfortunately, Risperdone was voluntarily recalled by Johnson & Johnson in 2013 due to suspected mold contamination.  It's also under scrutiny because of numerous complaints of gynecomastia.  Gynecomastia is the abnormal growth of breast tissue in males, sometimes accompanied by lactation.  In other words, Risperdone might give your son "man-boobs".

It's frustrating and annoying for the parent of a special-needs child to switch medications, for a lot of reasons.  The top reason is that when you've found something that works well for your child, you don't want to have to change it anytime soon.  Some parents go through two or three different prescriptions-or combinations of prescriptions-in order to find the right one.  The other reason is that starting your child on any anti-psychotic is not fun and games...they have to be weaned off of it before they start a new one.  Sudden and abrupt cessation of medications can cause complications.

So, in light of that info regarding Risperdone, we made the decision to change Logan's medication.  We went to see a doctor, who took into account the fact that Logan was also diagnosed with AD/HD (yes, you can have that with autism), and agreed to put him on Concerta, which is an AD/HD medication.

It was a terrible mistake!

Logan was fine through out the day.  As the evening wore on he became more and more agitated.  He began to exhibit severe facial tics.  He couldn't sleep.  He would lay down, then jump up and wander around the house and say, "I want to play" or "I want to clean".  I gave him two melatonin.  They did nothing.  He screamed and wandered and ticced until 2 am and finally fell asleep. It was awful to watch and frustrating to know we could do nothing but wait it out.  And it was equally upsetting to know it was because of something I gave him...not knowing the effect it would have.

Later we did some research on Concerta and found that people with high degrees of anxiety and tics (which Logan has) should never be given this medication.

So, of course, we will never give him that medication again, and we now have something else more suited to him waiting at the pharmacy.  Important lesson learned:  always do mounds of research before trying out any new medication.  This is a no-brainer.  I made the mistake of assuming that our physician (who is a very nice man) had Logan's information there in his head and his memory, and assumed that anything he prescribed would be appropriate.  However, consider that a doctor sees so many patients a day, and they may not have seen your child for a couple of months.  

The other lesson I learned, once again, was that things are not always going to be easy where Logan is concerned.  There are always going to be challenges and bumps in the road.  

The next morning, I was so exhausted and disheartened by what happened, I just sat on the couch, trying to get up the energy to move.  Logan came in and said he wanted to fix my hair.  He got a brush and just brushed my hair and said, "I wuv you" over and over.

And that, my friends, is what makes the bumps worth it.

Awkward Hair and Stuff

So, a few months ago, I did this crazy thing and cut off all my hair.  I had really long hair and one day I got depressed.  Battling depression is serious business.  People deal with it in all kinds of ways, and in some crazy, stupid way I thought that making a change on the outside would help what was on the inside.  Why do women do this?  I don't know.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Well, the lady I went to had cut hair for more than thirty years and was very nice but did NOT listen to me when I told her what I wanted done.  So she gave me this odd haircut with ragged layers.  The first day I hated it.  After a couple of weeks I loved it.  Now I hate it again because I'm at that stage where I'm trying to grow it out and it's...awkward.  Awkward hair.  Nothing worse than awkward hair. But I'm going to stick it out and make it long again because that is just me.

This year, so far, has been a year of trying a lot of things.  It's been the busiest and fullest year of my life in a long time.  Going to school full time (16 hours), homeschooling a child, tutoring a high school kid, and raising four children and teaching on Sundays.  No big.  Disclaimer:  Do not try this at home.

In all of the bustle and all of the going back and forth and doing I cannot shake the feeling that changes are around the corner.  I am sending my  home school kid back to regular school next year.  Is he happy?  No, he is not.  But he is getting used to it.  Will I add another sixteen hours next semester?  Probably NOT. (Probably stick with thirteen ;) )  For the simple reason that a)I value my sanity (if there is, in fact, any left)  b)my youngest daughter is starting to talk and becoming interested in books and I want to make time for her  and c)If you try to pile on too many things, something inevitably gets left behind.

Now wait a minute, you say.  This blog is supposed to be about autism.  Why haven't you written about autism for a while?

Look at it this way. Me not writing about autism is me saying something about autism.  It is saying that autism is not my life.  It's not Logan's life.  And while I will be the first person to educate someone about it, or explain something, or advocate for it, sometimes, I don't want to talk about it, because there are a lot of other aspects to life.  I think it's hard for people to remember that.  For such a long time, my focus was the fact that my kid had this disorder.  It consumed me.  It's still important.  I still research it and write about it and talk about it. It's still a central part of my life.  But going back to school this semester and involving myself in so many other things reminded me that I had a life once, and that it was possible to live it even while dealing with his personal challenges.

That being said, the most important part of my life is and always will be the four people I brought into the world.  They make my life so much richer, and so much more fun and interesting, than it ever could have been otherwise.

What I Haven't Done

The picture you see above is a picture I took in the woods near our house.  The "woods" are sparse and do not cover a lot of territory..but there are enough trees there that once you walk in, you do feel a little isolated from everything.  Recently I've gotten into photography; specifically, taking pictures of strange or unusual things and applying filters to give them special effects.  It's always fun to discover a new hobby or interest. There is so much out there, and so little time to experience what is out there.

Recently I have been assisting a neighbor with tutoring her son for some of his classes.  For one assignment, he had to come up with a pretend vacation and include latitudes and longitudes and other information about his "destination".  I said, "Oh, I can help with that.  I used to be a travel agent."

"Is there anything you haven't done?"  she exclaimed.

Well.  I have this list, and it's longer than the Great Wall of China.

Seriously, though.  I'm at the tail end of a second semester of school.  I've decided that I will never stop going back.  I will get my degree, and use it to fund the next degree, and then the next, and the next...

Pay Attention

The other night I went to Wal Mart kind of late to pick up some stuff, and to get out of the house.  The woman who rang up my groceries was about my age.  It was almost ten o'clock.  We had a conversation that went sort of like this:

"You much be ready to go home," I said.

"Yes.  But when you think about it, who does want to be working, late at night,  away from their families and their homes?"

"True," I said.  "And then you must get some customers that are hard to deal with."

"It's really not so bad," she said.  "People are nice.  The people I work with are nice.  It's a good place to work.  Sometimes, people just have a hard time and they're going to be in a bad mood.  As long as you understand that every now and then, you're going to get someone like that, then it's okay."

I LOVED her attitude.  She had every reason to be in a foul mood herself.  She was working late, had been on her feet all day, and was obviously tired.  But her perspective changed everything!  She had made a conscious decision to view her job and the people she came across in that job in a certain way, and she was better off for it.

In the past few years I have found that this applies to many things in life.  It's easy to get up in the morning and complain, and to express our unhappiness over things that aren't quite going the way we want them to.  It's challenging to take a less than desirable situation and turn it into something that can be enjoyed or at least make you content.  But it can be done.  How do you do this?  How do you change your attitude?

The biggest tool I use for this is prayer.  Because God has an eternal perspective, praying about a situation can actually give you peace.  If you're going through a trial, praying can ease your mind and help you to remove yourself from the "here and now" of the problem and look at it from a distance.  This is also useful in solving problems that arise in your life.  It keeps you cool headed.  It helps you act after thinking, not act without thinking.

The other major tool that can help you is empathy.  Stop and switch places with someone.  Being with Logan and witnessing his struggles with communication and behavior has taught me that when someone is acting a certain way, there is always a reason.  Whatever that reason may be...I try to think about the person I'm dealing with and understand their behavior. Sometimes there's an explanation.  Sometimes not.  But either way, you are still accountable for how you are acting towards them.

As I write this Logan is sitting in a rocking chair next to me, pushing on my arm with his foot and yelling (or "singing" as he sometimes tries to call it.)  It's annoying.  But he's telling me something.  He's saying, Stop writing, mom, and look at me.  Pay attention.

Score One For Mom

Yesterday I took advantage of the somewhat mild weather and walked with my oldest son to his favorite fishing spot.  He wanted to check his fishing traps and I wanted to spend some time with him.

At one point we had to go down a steep bank and jump over a gully.  I complained to him, "Didn't you stop to think that your poor old mother would have to jump over this when you went this way?"

He stared at me for a minute with a bemused expression on his face.  "Whatever, mom, you exercise!"

This made my day.  I am not super skinny.  I'm just not built that way.  But I try to stay healthy and I do work out at least three times a week.  I didn't think he really paid attention, but he does!  And if he pays attention and notices something like that, then that means my oldest daughter does, too.

What's the moral of the story?  That we, as mothers, sometimes think that how we treat ourselves goes unnoticed by our children, but it doesn't.  My kids notice that I take care of myself.  I hope that this influences them in a good way and teaches them that taking care of yourself and taking the time you need to stay  healthy is time well spent.