I Want It…I DON’T Want it! OH HUSH UP will ya…

Well it has been long enough. It’s about time I bore you to tears with a DRAKE update …you know…that cute little scamp of a kid who’s pictures I always have plastered on my wall like a Wanted Poster! 

This relatively new thing he likes to do actually causes your brain to crash around inside of your skull like a hockey puck gone wild. It can make your eyes bulge and make your ears bleed…OK, OK…a tad dramatic but remember as a writer you fall under poetic license…Got it? Okie Dokie!!!!

I suppose you can say this new thingy falls under flip flopping, or more like a form of mental water torture. Here we go! 

Ladedadeda as we all pile into my daughter’s mini bounce house that has air bags, steering wheel, brakes, gas peddle and windows. It is astounding to watch…a vehicle that turns into a friggin’ BOUNCE HOUSE and it is me and my daughter doing the bouncing. It can start just like this: Drake will ask, “Can I get a slushie?” One of us will turn and say “sure my love!” “Can Riley get one too?” he asks.  If she wants one she can. Let her say what she wants…and you can say what you want. UGH! OMG! WHY, OH WHY, OH WHY did one of us say that? What the hell were we thinking. I can now feel the slight tremor of a bounce working its way through my body, and can see my daughter’s face turn a wonderful shade of fuchsia. It was absolutely lovely! 

Without skipping a bit, and totally oblivious to the brain crunch about to happen we hear:  I DON’T WANT A SLUSHIE…starts out on volume one, slowly escalates to volume two, and bypasses three through nine straight to an astonishing ten without missing a beat and NOOOOOOOOO volume controller to TURN HIM OFF! Good grief. Open up a can of worms and a Rattle Snake pops out. 

So now it’s: OK! So you don’t want the slushie? While looking at us like we are nuts he says: I want the slushie. OK! OK! So you do want the slushie! NOOOOOOOOOOO I don’t want the slushie. By this point my purplish looking daughter and I both NEED A GOOD STRONG DRINK…most certainly not a slushie…if you get my drift. This can happen at any given moment and pertain to ANYTHING!

You never know when this will start. You never know how long it will take to end. The only thing you do know is: you don’t know. 

Seems like every time something that can make you tear your own hair out stops, (he’s too cute and wouldn’t want to see any bald spots on his precious head, I’ve lived a long life so who cares if I go bald) something else comes along to take its place. Half the time you don’t even realize it until he stops doing this and then starts up again. I can’t tell you how many times my sweet daughter and I have said: OH! Didn’t even notice it stopped. As I have said many, many times, thank goodness for ADVIL…

Will I Die in My Head? NOOOOOOOO My love!

Yesterday I met my little love at school for "LUNCH WITH SOMEONE "GRAND" DAY. Seeing as how I am GRAND I met him and first attended his school's book fair. Out of the blue he decided to start jumping around and acting quite silly. I reminded him that he has to watch out for other people…so of course he continued to keep jumping…what the heck, he was so happy I let him have at it and at the same time made sure he didn't stomp on someone in the process. All went well.

All of a sudden he turned to me and asked if he could run out into the street. I looked at him and said, "what do you have to do when crossing the street?" He stood there and said, "not this way turning to the left…not this way, turning to the right!" That's his way of saying no cars are coming. I asked him, "what do you always have to be?" His answer was, "SAFE!" There ya go I told him and we slapped each other five!!!!!! He turns to me and asks, "If I run out into the street will I be dead in my head?" OMG! DEAD IN HIS HEAD…where does he come up with this stuff. 

How do you explain the dangers…how? Their thinking is so concrete…say something the wrong way and it can take forever to correct it. Sometimes they hear something once and it is forever locked into place. At that moment I just told  him "NO BOO BOOS ALLOWED right?" He seems to get the concept of boo boos, so I went on to tell him that running into the road could cause BAD boo boos. He looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes and said, "I WON'T DIE IN MY HEAD?" All I could do at that moment was HUG him, tell him I LOVE YOU…and no! You won't die in your head. Man oh man…they challenge you at every turn. You want them to understand yet you don't want to scare the hell out of them at the same time. We just watch him like a hawk.

What’s the Matter Sweetie?…”I Don’t Have the words”

I would like to preface this new entry with a bit of history. One of the main issues for people dealing with autism is continuity. It doesn’t take much to rock the world of a child or adult struggling in this crazy world of ours. They like to have all their DUCKS IN A ROW…literally. As a matter of fact, my little love had ducks in different colors and if one…JUST ONE…was missing (he knew every color that should be in his LITTLE ROW,) watch out! Your heart would actually start pounding if you saw one was missing, and of course the meltdowns to follow if it wasn’t found fast enough were brain crushing. OK…this is what I mean. They also like their day to fit into their plans. When too many changes (sometimes it only takes one) enter the organized world in which they live it can cause other issues to develop or COMPOUND current ones. One of his biggies is needing affirmation for everything he says…EVERYTHING! This can go on for hours and hours and hours and hours. Then if you say this he will say that. If you say that he will say this. I usually just give him the STINK EYE…works on occasion.

Here’s the thing…winter break rocks his world. Extra snow days rocks his world even further. Add that to any sort of emotional upheaval and you have one hell of a cocktail! Trouble starts rearing its ugly head at school as well as at home. One day his mom asked him, “what is wrong?” He answered, “I don’t have the words!” If ever there was an OMG! moment this was it. I will never forget him saying, “I don’t have the words.”

Now to the issue at hand. Because of issues at school a game plan is in the works. One of them being Skittles as a positive reinforcer…YUP!…worked famously during ABA. The other is to read a story to the class pertaining to autism…which by the way was written by someone at the school.

They are hoping to help educate the class…explain certain behaviors…like outbursts, throwing, and so forth. Because all children are different, there are kids in his 1st grade class that watch out for him and try to help him, without truly understanding…some kids are just nurturers. Then there are the ones who egg him on knowing he will say BAD WORDS and then watch him get into trouble. Thank goodness the school understands and that is why the book came into play.

Herein lies the quandary…how do we explain to this little guy that he has autism? Will he understand? If he doesn’t, I will be haunted by his words when asked to explain: “I don’t have the words.” “I DON’T HAVE THE WORDS,” shows he tries so very hard. He just wants to be like everyone else…no more…no less. He just wants to play yet doesn’t understand how to socialize. He doesn’t get nuances. He doesn’t read all the cues. But I am going to have a bragging moment so bear with me: he has come quite far when it comes to reading expressions…like happy, sad, angry, playful…truly awesome. He even knows how to SCAM YA!

Anyway, this is going to be a very powerful moment. Will the kids get it? Will he get it? Good God sometimes even we don’t get it. His mommy figures the best thing is to be there when the book is read and answer any questions. Do we tell them it is about Drake? Is it read as just a learning tool about differences amongst people? This is just one of those moments you knew would arise and now that it is here you pray you handle it right. If we stumble it will be a learning experience for all of us.

The School Just Called…He Said What ????…He Did Whaaaat??

While driving to the store I get a phone call that has an OMG! MOM, I am beside myself ring to it! I take a deep breath and brace myself for whatever is to follow. The dreaded words,  “the school just called and Drake is in the principal’s office in time out ma…timmmme oooout…he’s in trouble ma”…came tumbling out of my sweet girl’s mouth. I am quickly assessing the situation and thinking just how bad can it be? He is only seven after all. He is not known to be a trouble maker as a rule so I tell her to calm down and tell me what is going on. He said whaat??? He did whaaaaat?????? Now I had to take a friggin’ deep breath and calm myself down.

By now my fight or flight mode was engaging and as anyone who has read my blog would know: I was in fight mode…welllllll, kinda sorta, because he did say some bad, bad, words and did pull his pants partially down (thank goodness) during recess. Oh good grief! Part of me was thinking…wow…he is doing stupid seven year old boy stuff, while the other part was thinking, BUT it is hard to make him understand not to do this. What he would do is this: He would say don’t say blankety blank because it is a bad word. Don’t say blankety, blank, blank because this is a bad word. He certainly has quite a litany of blankety blanks. Smart kid this little imp! Leaves ya wondering if he is reaffirming the fact that he shouldn’t say these words, or using this as a ruse to use them. I tend to lean towards the latter and that means his higher thought process is working because has has actually scammed me before. OK! OK! I will explain and then continue with today.

A few  years ago I saw him getting ready to throw something he was drinking into the garbage. I said uh, uh, buddy boy…you asked for it so do not do that…DRINK IT ok? The little bugger put it to his lips like he was sipping and then unceremoniously flipped it into the pail. I was stunned. I was elated. I was friggin’ beside myself. Could barely contain myself. He was scamming me because nary a drop touched his beautiful little boy mouth and I knew it. All I could think was: He has to be using a higher thought level…logic…OH YES! my little love, I shall let you win this go round but I will surely keep an eye on ya, ya little creep. Scamming grandma like that; how wicked, how wonderful, how wickedly wonderful. Back to the now!

That little anecdote should explain why I wonder about the bad, bad, some very bad words. Although there is more to this story than meets the eye. Apparently three boys in his class like to egg him on, not understanding this is like opening Pandora’s Box. Are they doing this to get him into trouble? Are they doing this because they think it is funny? Is it a combination of both? Did they tell him to take his pants partially down in the play yard? If this is the case they certainly need to be talked to. Their parents need to be talked to as well. The little boys need to be taught that he needs their help in good ways…not ways to amuse and get himself in trouble. Are they laughing with him or at him? Education is power and these kids and all kids and their parents and all parents need a bit of EMPOWERMENT ya think?

Back to the principal’s office, (I do tend to get sidetracked at times): They really were treating my little love nicely. They are being educated along with everyone else as far as autism’s little nuances. When the Principal went back to his desk I leaned towards “the Masher” and whispered, “No more baddie, baddie words, right?” and he replied in a whisper “no more bad words.” I leaned in a bit closer and whispered, “why did you pull your pants part way down?” and he leaned in closer and whispered, “I had to pee!!!!” OMG! Was that the simple explanation? My head was too busy reeling from the fact he was whispering back to me…NO ONE IN THIS SCHOOL TRULY UNDERSTANDS HOW FAR THIS KID HIS TRAVELED…THEY THINK THEY DO BUT THEY DON’T…you had to be there from the beginning. Oh well, such is life. We did pinkie promise that he would behave. Said I love you, and left him happily coloring his way through the time out stay in the Principal’s office, who by the way supplied the paper and crayons,  and was secure in leaving him.

As I was leaving the school and walking towards my car I saw the kids walking back to class from the lunch room. One little boy stood out and I thought how cute with his little mohawk. As I kept walking I heard a teacher asking, “Did you do something to him? Did you? Tell me the truth?” She was directing this to the cute little mohawk guy. Drake my love, at that very moment I realized the little boy in you was truly coming out…we just have to figure out how to turn off the switch after it comes on. You go my love…you go! Called my daughter and once again she sounded like my precious Jefner!

Anecdote: Got to Have This Balloon…Got to…

Now this is where the balloons become…ohhhhh…all consuming? As luck would have it, my little love fell TOTALLY in love with friggin’ BALLOONS…I mean to the point that you made sure to have a HUGE stockpile at all time…huge, folks…no exaggeration here I tell ya. Kinda still learning about autism at this point and this was quite a lesson!!!!! Never, ever run out of something they like. NEVER, EVER, EVER…tends to make autism verrrrry angry; which in turn can lead to majorly, major meltdowns. Go figure. Who knew?

My sweet daughter had her lungs feel like they were exploding on many occasions due to blowing up balloons. One after another, after another, and so on and so forth. What did he do? Took the balloon that just finished sucking the very life right out of you and released it across the room…clasping his little hands in unimaginable joy…weeeeeeeeeeeeee! I kinda got out of balloon blowing up duty because I said I am TOO OLD TO HANDLE THIS. <wink, wink> No dummy here folks!

After turning a startling shade of blue, my daughter taught him how to blow up his own darn balloons. YES! He did it folks! He could now blow ‘em up and let ‘em go all he wanted and squeeze his little hands together in an explosion of joy and mommy was able to get her breathing under control. Another miracle.

Found out very quickly how ugly it could get when we went into stores. Didn’t know that every store in the entire State of TEXAS had balloons…I mean every stinkin’ one. Of course when we entered the store and he spotted them it would get…how shall I say it…a bit sticky? If he couldn’t have one he would clear out the store. Oh my oh my was he the master!

On one outing with my little bud, he spotted a monkey balloon…A MONKEY BALLOON: $10.00, can you believe it? TEN DOLLARS FOR ONE BALLOON…UGH…OMG!…aaggghhh. Almost caved but he had sorta misbehaved in the store and off we marched back to my car.

Oh good grief, he really is the MASTER. We weren’t in the car one minute when he grabbed my hand in a death grip, big beautiful brown eyes filled with huge tears, saying balloon…balloooon…BAAAAALLLOOOOOOOON? Okay I caved. SO? Haven’t ya ever caved? To a TEN DOLLAR BALLOON? Please tell me I am not alone in this: PLEASE!

Okay, Okay, so I take him back into the store and yes…yes…yes…made the little guy happy and myself ten bucks lighter, but he was so excited. He was soooooo happy I would have spent $100 on the friggin’ monkey. I now felt like the “BEST GRANDMA EVER,” and he was honing his skills, all at the same time.

We get home and he couldn’t wait to show it to mommy and Nicole, who was visiting from Easter Seals. All was right with the world; Chunky Monkey had his own monkey and life was good until…

Here is the kicker dear reader; here is the TEN DOLLAR KICKER: When Nicole got up to leave , we all followed her to the door to say goodbye. As we were doing this we watched in horror I tell you…HORROR…weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, said the little guy, clasping his hands together in pure unadulterated glee as he let the balloon go. Yes you read that right! He let the balloon GO! Kinda sorta forgot he liked to do that. People must have wondered for days about the flying monkey. I still laugh to this day. I just wish there was a camera at moment to catch all the different expressions: Horror, horror, horror…JOY! God I love that kid, BUT, I am now very selective when it comes to balloons. Would I do it again? YOU BETCHA!

Anecdote: You Can Have Any Balloon You Want. You Want Them All?

One day my wonderful daughter (Drake’s mom,) and I took Drake to Toys ‘R’ Us to pick up a gift if memory serves me correctly. As we were standing on line at the register I noticed the little guy looking at all the helium balloons floating with sheer abandon up, up towards the ceiling, yet in every kid’s eyesight…of course. Great marketing ploy, ya think?

I wandered over to the large display and picked out a balloon and thought: Hmmm, wonder if he will like this, look at it, or even play with it. What the heck; had to try!

I handed it to him and got back on the line with his mom. All of a sudden I feel these little fingers  encircling my hand and leading me back to the big balloon display. HUH? Is he trying to show me something? Is it possible?

I let him lead me to wherever it was he wanted to lead me. Actually, this kid says jump and I tell him not to make me jump too high; TOO FRIGGIN’ OLD MY LOVE, TOO FRIGGIN’ OLD!  Back to the gaggle of balloons floating above us like a rainbow of color and mish-mash of shapes. He looks up and says, “other one?” I am like WHAAAAAAAT? Did you just say other one? OTHER ONE? You are telling me my choice sucks and you want that other one??????? Here is where OMG! is perfect…OMG! OMG! Like the idiot that I can be I gave the balloon back to the salesperson, explaining this foolish old woman picked the wrong balloon, and proceeded to say to him (quite loudly and with excess animation) “you want that one? That one? You can have any balloon you want! Do You want them all?

I know people were looking at me like I was totally nuts but I did not care; not one whit! He communicated with me and that was music to my ears. It was music that all the unfortunate shoppers never got to hear—although my daughter was dancin’ to the tune!