Welcome Back

I went through a funk at the beginning of this school year and finally,  the air is starting to clear. It’s just that with both kids in school all day I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. Actually, looking back, I knew what I really wanted to do, I just didn’t know how to start or if I could and so that negated the dream for a while.

I want to be a teacher. I want to help foster creativity and growth in little people, the way that so many have done for my children. My children have been lucky enough to have such wonderful people teach them every day and when I volunteer in their classrooms, which I do weekly, I find myself watching the way that their teachers interact with the kids and it’s like a lightbulb for me every time. That is what I want to do when I grow up.

I had been quietly researching going back to school for quite a while and was coming up uninspired and, frankly, a little scared. There is so much going on in our lives, with Eliot’s business and work schedule and the kid’s school and after school activities. When would I have time to go back to school? How would I pay for school?

Online university. This is what Eliot said to me when I told him my dream of being a teacher, followed by all the reasons I couldn’t do it. I love this about him. He will always, always find a way for things to work out. I come up with all these glass half empty reasons why something won’t work and he counters with at least one way that it could work. I thought I was an optimist, and I really think that I am, but maybe too much of a realist to see the creative solution sometimes. I began researching online degrees and universities and was encouraged by what I found. This was not the boring,  correspondence course work I had thought it would be. So, last week, I found myself applying to the University of Phoenix.

Of course, the entire time I was going through the application process, I was preparing myself for something to go wrong. I wouldn’t allow myself to get excited about the possibility of going to school and having a career that I love, just in case. I completed the application process on Friday and was expecting  to hear from my admissions counselor on Tuesday. I spent the entire day cleaning and scouring the house, because that helps me when I am thinking.

Right about the time that my skin was about to fall off on my hands from being in water half the day, the phone rang. It was my counselor, calling to congratulate me on being accepted to the Universities Associates in the Arts/Elementary Education program. I was also approved for my loan. I couldn’t believe it. And I was doubly shocked when I started to cry. I hadn’t allowed myself  too much time to think about the what if scenario of it all working out. I was and am so excited!

When I picked the boys up from school and told them my good news, they bombarded me with congratulations. Wolfie was unbelievably excited and wanted to know all the details of what college was going to be like for me ,and Hammy wanted to share with me all his ideas about where I could teach and how we could see each other everyday at school when I am a teacher.

I love that this is something that everyone in my family is excited about and will benefit from. I have been at a crossroads since the beginning of the year about what to do with myself now that I don’t have little babies at home all day.  I have looked down each path and tried to see what was up ahead. This path is the one I was most afraid of, but also the most drawn to. I think that is a good thing. Wish me luck!

Hurdle

Here’s the deal. I am an optimist. I really do believe that everything works out somehow. I have my moments of negativity like anyone else, but I try not to live there. Lately, I’ve been living there. Today has to be the day it turns around. I have one big thing standing in my way.

My seven and three quarters year old son.

He is going through this “I am going to challenge and attempt to negotiate everything that my Mom says” thing. Sure, he has always been a negotiator and he has always challenged convention. He has Asperger’s. That’s par for the course. The difference lately is that he is doing it with a very nasty attitude, a mean look on his face, and with a will of iron. I am exhausted. I am tense. And I am finding myself being really inflexible and drill sergeant-like, not because I consciously want to behave that way, but because I am so worn out. I just want him to back off the attitude. Be nice. Agree sometimes.

I know what this is about. We started ABA therapy at the end of August and the honeymoon period is over. He loves Miss N, his therapist, but he doesn’t love when she leaves and I expect the same things that she does. He doesn’t love that I am using the same techniques and language that she does. He keeps saying that he doesn’t love me.

Now, I know better than to allow myself to sink into self pity and wallow in the idea that my son doesn’t love me anymore. Logically, I know that he is acting out, trying to gain some control. The thing is that he was controlling the house before Miss N. His meltdowns would sometimes last an hour and who was paying attention to Hammy while we were absorbed in Wolfie’s meltdown? No one. It had to change. We had to find some balance.

Life in our house is better in so many ways since we started ABA. Hammy is happier, he is getting more attention and he isn’t mimicking Wolfie’s challenging behavior in an attempt to get our attention. Eliot and I are parenting on the same page for the most part. We are leaving our own emotions out of it and helping Wolfie turn his behavior around on his own. Wolfie is accomplishing so many things that are positive. If it weren’t for that pesky negativity, life would be pretty great.

I signed up to volunteer in Wolfie’s classroom this year. He and I talked about how I would be coming to school and he said he was excited for me to come. When I got there, he was incredibly rude to me. He refused to cooperate with anything I was asking him to do, which by the way, was simply to come and sit down at the reading table with me and two other kids. Not a huge request. And not something that should be difficult for him. Once he did finally sit down he hit me on the arm and growled at me because I agreed to let another child begin the reading. I did this because I couldn’t reward his behavior thus far, and I explained that this little girl had been waiting patiently to start while Wolfie was refusing to join.

I tried so many times to change the negative to positive. At the end of the reading group, which he left early because he didn’t feel like sitting next to me, I went over to his desk and told him I loved him. I asked him why he was so angry. He didn’t like that I was bossing him around, he said. I asked him if he wanted to share anything with me in his desk before I left. I told him we could have a few minutes where he could decide what to share with me. He told me that everything in his desk was for school and it was P-R-I-V-A-T-E (he actually spelled it out) for him and not for Mom. That hurt.

I left. As I was walking out the kids had gone to lunch recess and his teacher was walking down the hall toward me. She clearly felt bad about how Wolfie was treating me. I am sure it was sad to watch. She told me that he never had acted like that in class before toward her. Ouch.

Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that he has never acted that way toward her. I am glad that he saves his best behavior for school. I am just sad that he isn’t happier when I am there. I know he wants me there, but he is confused when school and home cross paths. It makes him uncomfortable. Just like ABA makes him uncomfortable when Miss N isn’t around.

I know that all of this will work itself out. We have been through this before and it was hard, and then somehow it became easier. It will get better. We will find a way back to the positive. That is my mantra for today.

Spelling Bee

Spelling tests are on Tuesday and Wolfie loves this. He is an excellent speller. I think he must have a photographic memory because if he has seen the word, he can spell it. Practicing his spelling words is a lot of fun. They are words meant to challenge him as they have been picked to match his reading level. This weeks spelling words included adequate, occasionally, apparatus and rapport.

To practice for the test, we hold a home spelling bee. Eliot and I, and sometimes Hammy, will give Wolfie a word and watch as he closes his eyes, and twitches his arms as he spells out the word with a huge smile on his face. When he is finished, he opens his eyes and asks very excitedly, “Is that right?”

Each time was “Yes! High five, you got it right!” We went beyond the spelling words into words like philosophy and tyrannosaurus. He got them all right and he was so proud. So proud, in fact, that at one point he started to cry. He was just so happy! He was literally smiling, laughing and crying all at the same time. Which, of course, made me fall to pieces. I get so overwhelmed with emotion when I see either of my boys do things that make them feel proud. I remember how it felt as a child to be proud of myself. It was one of the best feelings ever. The build up of sharing the news that had me so proud or that brief moment between accomplishing something and turning my head to meet the gaze of one of my parents is a feeling that I will remember always. And it isn’t just about how I felt. It’s also that moment of sharing.  It wasn’t just my moment. It was our moment. I remember the pure pride and happiness on my parents’ faces and the obvious pleasure they got out of my success, and I understand what they were feeling now that I have my own children.

 Asperger’s can be isolating. It is difficult for Wolfie to connect with peers in a way that is meaningful to the other person. It has plenty of meaning for Wolfie, it’s just that for the other person the meaning is somewhat cloudy. It is interesting and sometimes painful to watch Wolfie with his classmates or his brother. He comes across steamroller-ish a lot of the time because he is excited. Maybe  he knows the answer or has something he feels is important to offer and it is hard for him to think before sharing.

Just last night we were hanging out together by the fire doing homework. Wolfie was working on new spelling words and Hammy wanted to join in the fun. We started taking turns giving the boys words to spell. Hammy was so patient as he waited for Wolfie to spell his word. This may have been because there was no way he could spell the words that Wolfie was given, but he was patient none-the-less. Wolfie, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to “help” Hammy spell his words. Hammy didn’t want his help. We didn’t want him to help. We kept giving him reminders that it was Hammy’s turn. It was so clear that he just couldn’t help himself. He knew the answer and it was demanding to come out! Eventually, he settled down and got the message to wait his turn, or at least, wait for someone to ask for his help.

It is hard sometimes in those moments not to steamroll right over him because he is being so over bearing. Recognizing that it is excitement that is motivating him is so important  in order to teach him a different approach. He is much more receptive to our suggestions when he doesn’t feel attacked, which is so interesting to me, since he is usually the verbally aggressive one first.

It’s strange, he doesn’t feel it when he is over bearing, but is very sensitive when he is on the receiving end. I guess the difference is where the motivations lie. He is excited, or has something to share, and because of his lack of filter for his emotions, he comes across aggressive or larger than the situation calls for. He knows he isn’t trying to be aggressive, but his peers don’t.  When I am impatient is when I come across as a steamroller to him. My  motivation is not excitement or anything positive in those moments. I’m just impatient in that moment, and he knows it.

Of course, there are those times when he is aggressive when he is angry or impatient, but that is for another story.

I think participating in a real spelling bee would be good for him someday. He would love it. And I love the pleasure that exudes from him when he is successfully spelling a word. The way that he spells them out has a definite rhythm. He breaks the word up into parts and spells each part pretty quick  and I get a kick out of that too. The whole time he is smiling his infectious smile and looking to us to share in his pride. It’s impossible not to enjoy.

Serendipity

It is good to be reminded about the good parts of Asperger’s. When dealing with school and other activities where there is so much expected that just doesn’t come naturally for someone with Asperger’s, it is easy to forget to celebrate the good stuff. The stuff you love, the stuff that reminds you just how special it is that you have this person in your life.

I am talking about Wolfie who will talk to anyone, anytime, anyplace. It doesn’t matter how old you are or how you might look, he will treat you like he treats everyone. With excitement. He has the ability to cut right to the good inside people. I see it happen all the time and it is something that I enjoy so much about him.

I hosted a jewelry party last night at our house for some friends and he really wanted to be part of the party. So, I told him that he could answer the door and show the ladies where the drinks, snacks and jewelry was. He called that being the butler and ran upstairs to shower and change. He emerged from upstairs about 30 minutes later dressed in what he calls his “khaki suit”. This consists of a pair of khaki pants, his striped button down shirt, a blue tie, and this old brown corduroy blazer that I got from a thrift store that I never got around to putting buttons on or ironing. He insists that it looks just fine and wears it whenever he can. One of these days I am going to surprise him with some buttons.

He greeted all the guests and was such a little gentleman about it. One of my friends thought he was telling her he was wearing his “tacky suit”, and we all had a good belly laugh about it, although the joke was sort of lost on him. Another friend was feeling down about somethings going on in her life and was uplifted by his good natured spirit and enthusiasm. She sent me a message saying how much she enjoyed him and how he really turned her day around.

This morning I was tired and he was being sort of floppy and uncooperative. He was frustrated by everything I was asking him to do, which is all basic stuff like brush your teeth and put on your shoes. I forgot in the moment to honor who he is and remember the good stuff. I yelled at him which made him frustrated so he cut the laces off his shoes because he needed help untie-ing them and I was too busy loading the car with backpacks and trying to keep Hammy from joining in on the frustration to help.

Looking back, if I would have just stopped and helped him, the morning would have gone much more smoothly. Coming home and seeing my friends’ note helped me to see all the things I was missing about my own child this morning. I am so thankful for these reminders. They present themselves in the most unique way and somehow, at just the right time.

Second Nature

“Is Miss. N coming tomorrow?” Wolfie asked me this last night as we were getting ready for bed. These kinds of questions always give me momentary anxiety because I am not sure on any given day what answer will provide a positive response from him. Last night especially was an anxious one because he had been so sad after school and I didn’t want him to go there again.

“Yes, she is!” I responded with enthusiasm. Again, not sure if this was the answer he was hoping for. I know he likes Miss. N. She is young and makes the ABA really fun, but she commands some authority with him too. Usually by now Wolfie would have seen through all the fun and games and focused on the work. What he does in ABA is hard work. Learning to be flexible and going with the flow, not being stuck on his ideas and being willing to try new things. It is fun, but it is also challenging.

“Oh, good! I just love it when she comes!” He had an enormous smile on his face when he said it. I asked him why he likes it when she comes. “Oh, she is just so fun and nice. And we play T ball together and that kind of thing.” It is curious that he would mention the T ball since he hates playing T ball. It is her approach that he likes. She doesn’t make him hold the bat any certain way, or hit the ball any number of times. They just take turns and play together like two friends. She takes a lot of the pressure off of him and praises him for being willing to try. I love this about her.

I am thinking a lot about her approach with him and trying to apply it to other areas of his life and you know what? It’s working. This morning he didn’t want to go to school, but he didn’t tell me this right away. He got dressed and ate breakfast, watched a little television and then when it was time to get shoes on and get in the car, he decided it would be a good time for a shower. We never shower in the morning. After asking him repeatedly to not take his clothes off (as he is taking his clothes off), I decided to let him shower. I told him that by making the choice to shower, he was making the choice to not watch television in the morning for a week.

He didn’t like that. I just kept repeating that it wasn’t what I wanted him to do, but that I wasn’t going to stop him. He would have consequences either way. He ultimately decided not to shower. We were late for school, but I was proud of him for making a good choice. Since beginning ABA, I have noticed in myself a heightened awareness of how vulnerable he really is. And how his choices to do things that are defiant really aren’t conscious. It is just a reaction. Sometimes it is so unclear what he is reacting to, but sooner or later it is revealed. Eventually the behavior makes sense.

I knew all this before, but it feels different now. It feels more solid, more for real. Like second nature.

Defeated

“I feel like such a failure,” Wolfie said to me this afternoon, crying giant tears following a meltdown after school. It is in these moments that I feel like I have failed him. What am I doing sending him to school each day when mostly, it makes him feel like this? Really, what am I doing?

This thought goes through my head more often than I’d like.  I want so badly to take him out of school and home school him, but would that be better? Could I provide the learning environment that he needs? Is it fair to have Hammy in a school and Wolfie at home? Could I handle having them both at home all the time? Would I be stunting their social growth?

The trouble with all these questions is that it depends on who you ask. There is no right answer. It isn’t black and white. There is so much grey. I am not comfortable in the grey. When I really examine how I feel I have this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that I will regret this public school decision. It comes to the fore front of my mind like someone punching me in the face when I hear my 7 year old son tell me he feels like a failure.

I want to celebrate the good things about my children. I want to praise them for and give them opportunities to utilize their strengths.  I am tired of hearing that everyone is special and that in order to be fair, blah, blah, blah. Our public schools are set up for the most common denominator. They aren’t set up for the uncommon. Individual strengths are traded in for collaborative group strength. What if your strength is one that doesn’t mesh well with the group? What if the group can use the strength, but you aren’t comfortable with the collaboration? Is it still valuable? The answer lies in the individual teacher and how he or she chooses to run the classroom.

This is precisely the problem with school. It is one transition after another and very little consistency. One teacher might offer many chances and another only gives one. One teacher may celebrate the children doing the right thing, and another places the focus on what you’ve done wrong. To a typical child this is confusing. To my aspie child it is maddening, more than frustrating.

He participates in the gifted program at his school and at the end of each day there is a sheet of paper to be sent home outlining the lesson and activity for that day. At the bottom of the page is an area for the children to rate how well they participated, listened, used their time, cooperated, and were committed to the task. The choices are 1, needs improvement, or 2, meets expectations. He gave himself 1 1/2 most of the time and a 1 3/4 for cooperation. The teacher gave him all 1’s. This is why he was so upset. He thought he had tried really hard, but saw from his scores for the day that it wasn’t enough. He said he felt like it was never enough. He said he felt like quitting.

Sharing Secrets

“Hey, Wolfie, I want to tell you a secret.” Hammy said this to Wolfie yesterday afternoon right after Miss. N arrived. Miss. N is our ABA therapist and it was her first day. Wolfie didn’t feel like hearing a secret so I asked Hammy to tell me.

“I don’t want to be violent or disrespectful while Miss. N is at our house,” he said in my ear. Little sweetie. He was remembering the time a few weeks ago that Miss. N came to have a get to know each other play date and things between him and Wolfie went sour. There was some kicking, hitting and a lot of back talk. He was embarrassed about that. I told him I thought that was something he could say out loud and I encouraged Wolfie to listen. Hammy said it and Wolfie agreed with him.

Miss. N said she appreciated that both of them were having such positive attitudes. I’m sure you can guess where the story is going.

Things were going fine until Wolfie earned 8 points and was given the opportunity to pick a choice out of the box. The box is full of special items that the kids will get to choose from when they earn 8 points. Once the playtime with the chosen item is over, it goes back into the box until points are earned again. The items in the box aren’t to be played with outside of when Miss. N is here.

This was explained to the boys several times prior to letting them see the box. Everyone said that they understood the rules.

I bought all the items in the box with both boys in mind. These are things that I knew they would be interested in, but that I didn’t want to give them access to all the time mainly because they are messy or have the potential to get messy or out of hand. In short, adult attention is pretty necessary.

Wolfie chose the fountain pen. He LOVES pens. He loves to make signs and he especially loves to make signs with cool pens. The pen is cool. Miss. N made signs with him and challenged him a little with how he makes the signs. He handled it well and earned a few more points. Then it came time to move on and so the pen had to go back into the box.

This is when things got ugly. I have seen things get ugly like this before, but there was a major difference this time. I had a professional there with me who was supportive and kind. She coached me in how to handle the meltdown and together we got him to calm down. It was hard. And it was heartbreaking. But at the same time, not. It’s weird, I think I have lived with for so long and become used to these meltdowns so much that the sadness has been squeezed out of me and in it’s place is resolve and determination.

I know that Wolfie can learn to control himself. I know he can do it without medicine. I know he can do it because we love him and are committed to helping him no matter what.

I almost think that the absence of my sadness is what makes things work when they do. He had to calm himself down. And after about 20 minutes he did.

I am a firm believer in at home therapy. There is so much good that comes of it. I am involved and learning, as is the rest of the family. This therapy isn’t just for Wolfie. Hammy, Eliot and I will all benefit individually and collectively. I believe that doing this as a family will strengthen us and solidify the relationship that Hammy and Wolfie have with one another.

“I think I have something that will help Wolfie!” Hammy was walking around on his toes with a piece of paper in his hand and a crayon. He looked excited and he was talking with urgency. He felt bad that his brother was having such a hard time and he wanted it to stop. He had written him a note and he wanted to slide it under the door to Wolfie. I told him I wanted to read it first. It said, “You are bad.” Miss. N looked at it and said, “Maybe there is something positive you could say to Wolfie instead.” They decided on something together and he wrote it down.

“I hope you get calm,” the note said. He slid it under the door. There was a brief silence followed by a a request for a pen. Wolfie sent the note back under the door. I turned it over and read his writing. “Thank you, Hammy,” was what it said.

It was one of the sweetest things I have ever witnessed.

It is no secret that life is challenging sometimes in our house. We have shared stories in hopes that it will help another family and we have sought help from our families and close friends who understand. But there is something about having someone who doesn’t know the back story witness what happened yesterday. It made me feel lighter. She has no emotional ties to Wolfie or to me, yet she was empathetic and offered no judgement. She had the ability to see what none of us on the inside can see because we are so attached and so in love with our little boy.

I am glad that the big meltdown happened on the first day of therapy. Maybe now, we can begin to make some headway. I know it isn’t the last big meltdown we’ll ever see, but it is a step in the right direction and that is how you start. Baby steps.

It’s The Little Things

I got to eat lunch with the boys today at school. That is always so much fun. It was especially fun today because they were both having really great days. I was proud of Hammy because he walked into school on his own with Wolfie this morning. No tears and very little fear about it. Wolfie was very proud because he could help Hammy and do a good job at being big brother. I drove away from school this morning without that dull ache in the pit of my stomach and I was grinning from ear to ear. 

Today was fancy day for Wolfie. I have agreed to let him wear his fancy clothes to school once every two weeks. He loves to dress up in his nice shirt, his tie, dress pants and dress shoes and belt. He looks like he is going to work. The image of him dressed like that, holding Hammy’s hand on the way into school is one that I will always remember.

I was standing in line at Subway getting ready to order Wolfie’s lunch when my phone rang. I recognized the number immediately. It was school.

“This is Mrs. S’s room, Wolfie speaking!” This is what I heard when I answered. He sounded so happy!

Before I could finish my hello to him, he was telling me as fast as he could that he had just had a fire drill AND an intruder drill and he did just fine. He said he was a little afraid of the intruder drill, but that he was really OK. He was so, so proud of himself.

There was no announcement of the drill. It just happened and he was absolutely fine. I am so glad that the new school counselor was willing to try this out with him. Removing the announcement at the beginning of the day elimated all the anxiety that he normally feels about drills. I couldn’t be happier.

We had a fantastic lunch. Hammy and I ate together first and put together a car from his happy meal. Then Wolfie and I ate together and he invited two friends to join us. Watching him interact with his friends and seeing how proud he was of his accomplishment with the drills was wonderful.

Our school situation may not be perfect, but I am happy to have such good people working with Wolfie. All it takes is someone to take ownership and try to make a difference and today his teacher, his special ed coordinator, and his counselor really did a fantastic job.

All I can say is Thank You.

Following The Leader

“I want to quit REACH. I’m just a quitter and I’m not going back.” This is what Wolfie said to me when I picked him up from school. I knew something wasn’t right when I saw his face as he walked toward me after school. He had that look. The one where he was trying not to cry and not to smile. He was confused and embarrassed and he didn’t want to talk about it.

I just gave him a hug and told him we didn’t have to talk about it until he was ready. Poor guy. There is nothing that I dislike more than the idea that I send him off everyday to a place where he feels misunderstood the majority of the time. It is heartbreaking and frustrating to see such an able little boy with so much to offer struggling because he can’t conform socially.

Rules are hard. People constantly telling him what to do about trivial stuff clouds what is important. Wolfie’s greatest assets are his inventive ideas about systems and his knowledge about technology. His greatest asset socially is that he is outgoing and wants to engage with you. He wants to share his knowledge. How I wish there was a school that understood this, embraced it and encouraged it.

REACH is the gifted program at his school. He isn’t actually “in” the program, but is being allowed to audit because he is clearly gifted, but had a hard time proving it on the various tests he was given. I appreciate that he is being allowed to audit, but I find myself wondering if it is worth it.

It looks like, for Wolfie, REACH is more of the same on a more intense level for one day, three times in that day, once a week. There are a lot of transitions over the course of the day and he misses much of what happens in the regular classroom. The program is designed for kids who enjoy being challenged and thrive working and collaborating as a small group. The challenges are provided by the teacher and do not necessarily embody anything that Wolfie is interested in or motivated by.

This is hard for Wolfie. He has specific interests and would like nothing more than to explore those more to see where they lead. And why shouldn’t he? Why is our society so obsessed with group stuff? Albert Einstein wouldn’t have been the mathematician that he was if he was forced to participate in small group collaboration all the time. He probably holed up somewhere and immersed himself in his own little world of numbers and symbols. Was that expected? No, absolutely not. But aren’t we glad he did it?

I am not saying that this is what I want for Wolfie, but a little balance would be nice. Some acknowledgment on the part of the system that he doesn’t fit into their educational plan without it causing emotional pain and distress because he DOESN’T GET IT. The system needs to make room for him and his ideas. It needs to be soft and allow for his shape. He is driven by his ideas as we all are and he doesn’t come equipped with the social protocol filter that makes us all give a shit what someone else thinks. He has to learn that. And he is doing his part. He is trying.

I think the worst part of all of it is that he does have the capacity to know when someone isn’t happy with him. Today he didn’t feel that anyone was happy with him and he really didn’t know why.

He forgets how important it is to show the people around him that he is paying attention in the conventional way. He needs reminders of that because it doesn’t come naturally for him. If he can’t focus sitting in his chair then he gets up and moves around. He is still listening and in a lot of cases he hears better when he does this.

But it isn’t expected behavior to just get up in the middle of group work or when everyone is listening to the teacher from their seats. When he does this, it is distracting for the other students and for the teacher. Suddenly he is being reprimanded and he really doesn’t understand why. He wasn’t trying to be disruptive. He just needed to move a little. He feels misunderstood. He is constantly being asked to modify, to do it differently than his instincts tell him. No one is honoring WHO HE IS. What about what he needs to be successful?

“I want to quit REACH because it’s too hard. I don’t know what I did wrong today and Mrs. B raised her voice at me when she told me to go back to class.”  He started telling me about this again at bedtime. I questioned whether she really raised her voice. He said she did a little bit.

“It’s like she doesn’t understand that I have Asperger’s. And, anyway, I want to keep that private.” I reminded him that when we talk about his Asperger’s we are helping people understand why he does some of the things he does and that Asperger’s is just a difference. It isn’t anything to be embarrassed about.

We did a presentation last year to his first grade class about Asperger’s and what it means for him. Wolfie created the whole thing in Power Point and we went together and he presented it. The class loved it. They asked questions and made connections. It was one of the proudest days for him. From that point on, things changed for him in first grade. The kids made room for him and seemed to understand him better.

“I think we need to ask Mrs. N to forward that presentation to Mrs. B and Mrs. S so they can understand me better.” I love the way his mind works. Mrs. N is his first grade teacher, Mrs. B teaches REACH, and Mrs. S is is second grade teacher. I told him that we should create a new presentation or add on to the one we have and present it again. He liked my idea.

So the whole mess of an afternoon today was caused by Wolfie challenging Mrs. B and getting up from his seat to wander around the classroom. Maybe he was bored? Maybe he was uncomfortable in his chair? Maybe he listens better when he is walking? Either way, concessions should be made for different learning styles. Give him something to do that has meaning to him. Use what he has accomplished and build on it. His participation will be different from that of the other kids. That is a guarantee. 

He isn’t a follower of rules or of anyone just because you said. I have had to learn this over and over again about him. Really, this is true about everyone. No one likes to be told what to do. We are all unique individuals who have something to bring to the table. Wolfie’s is more complicated to get to, but if you are willing he will lead you there. You just have to be open to following.

New

On May 23, 2004 I woke up with contractions. I made Wolfie pancakes and tried to ignore the pain. I was not ready for labor. It wasn’t supposed to happen for another week and I wasn’t ready yet. I had no bag packed and Eliot’s parents were out of town. I drove to my parents house with Wolfie and we hung out there for awhile. Eliot was finishing up some things around the house and going to pick up a dresser from a friend. My Mom took one look at me and told me I was in labor. I didn’t believe it. It hit me like a ton of bricks around 5:00 why I had been denying that labor was, in fact ,here. Wolfie was playing with blocks on the floor and I was struck by his beauty and how much he depended on me. This would be the last time we would be a family of three. He was going to have to share. We all were. This was a time for bravery and I wasn’t sure I was up for the challenge.

All of those thoughts went completely out the window as soon as I looked into Hamilton’s eyes. He was a beautiful and healthy baby and I was in love immediately. Of course I had enough love for both. Why was it ever a question? Looking back on that day prior to his birth I understand that I was afraid. I didn’t know how it would all work out and that was terrifying. It was hard at first, but we found our groove and never looked back.

While my children were little, people would ask me what I was going to do with myself when my kids were both in school. I would think about what it would be like to ”get my life back”. What it would feel like to have hours during the day to focus on something just for me. I had no idea that time would come so fast. Or that it would knock me off my feet the way it did.

The first day of school I had a bad case of butterflies all day long. Pretty normal I thought. After all, I had just dropped both of my babies off for the day. I cleaned and organized closets and grocery shopped on my own, while obsessively checking my phone for any missed calls. The second day was pretty similar to the first. Lots of cleaning and organizing and checking of my phone. I avoided writing and now I know why.

Yesterday I was sick of cleaning. We didn’t have a good morning before school and I had an enormous lump in my throat. I took apart some toys that had been taking up space in the basement and I contemplated working in the garden. I settled on a shower and then sat down at the computer. I intended to write about the morning, which I did, but I also kept wanting to interject little tidbits about the kids that really had no bearing on the story. The floodgates opened and I felt the pain I had been stuffing down all day with full force. I missed my kids. My identity for the last almost 8 years has been wrapped around these little boys of mine and now that they were gone for the day I really had no idea what to do with myself.

I wasn’t expecting this. At all. When my kids were home all day I tried to stay in the moment and realize that the little phases that we went in and out of wouldn’t last. Good or bad, they were all temporary and just part of them growing up and the beginning of a long lesson in letting go for me. I am here to tell you that it all went by way too fast for my liking. And I wonder, could I have embraced those times more? The answer is absolutely yes. Yesterday I found myself longing for someone to hold or someone to ask me a series of questions over and over until I thought I would explode.

I have never understood why people choose to have another baby at the precise moment their other children are in school all day. It seemed like such poor planning to me. I get it now. I completely understand the desire. I was immersed in it yesterday with a force so strong I thought it would pull me under. I had no idea I would feel this way. 

I am not saying that I want another baby exactly. I am not at all ready to make that leap. I have heard it said that you should do what you are passionate about. And, it turns out that what I am most passionate about are my children. I am okay with my role as Mom, first and foremost. Being Mom to my boys is the best thing I have ever done and while I miss them as babies, I am looking forward to enjoying them at this phase of life.

I no longer have complete control over what they do with their time. I cannot shield them from pain they will feel from the outside world and I cannot control what phrases they hear and who they spend time with at school. I have to place trust in the people educating them while I am not there and I have to trust them to ask for help when they need it. These are the years that shape who they will be as adults and I don’t want to screw it up. I feel an enormous amount of weight going into the choices that we make now for our boys. Choices are fluid, I know, but they seem so much more impactful now.

It was easy when they were babies to just love them up all the time. Feed them when they were hungry, change them, sing them to sleep and watch them learn new and exciting things. All under my guidance and love. I am giving over some of the job of guidance to school and I’m not sure about that. I think it is good to not be sure. It will keep me from becoming lazy in my quest for quality education and social interaction for them. My role is different, but the important stuff remains the same. Love, trust and understanding. This is what being a mother is all about. This is what I will do. It’s what I am passionate about.

This is the beginning of a new phase of mothering. Time to put my brave face on.