tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4336397286328087422023-12-07T15:31:53.085-05:00Perfectly Imperfect ParentingCandid Confessions Of A Mom On Her Journey Raising Two Unique Children!Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-21436624293424354422013-09-20T18:42:00.000-04:002013-09-20T18:42:19.772-04:00Eggs!Ashton has this new obsession with watching You Tube videos of people opening eggs with toys inside. <br />
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Apparently this is a "thing" people do. This particular video has 2,411,389 views! Seriously? I don't get it, but he absolutely loves these videos so much he acts them out. hehe<br />
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Has anyone else heard of this?Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-49829260048989313892013-09-15T18:51:00.000-04:002013-09-15T18:51:03.379-04:00Make A Difference!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: start;">Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.</span></div>
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One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.</div>
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As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.</div>
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He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"</div>
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The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."</div>
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"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.</div>
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To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."</div>
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Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"</div>
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At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: start;">-Loren Eiseley</span></span></div>
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Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-66552555615995584942013-09-15T18:43:00.002-04:002013-09-15T18:43:40.162-04:00Our Story!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-86119416765865425172013-09-13T22:12:00.001-04:002013-09-13T22:12:36.624-04:00Thank You!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am still in shock and awe from the events of today. We got the amazing opportunity to meet some truly fantastic individuals and are so utterly and thoroughly thankful! Our fence is up! Not only that but they built the kids a swing set, repaired our deck, sprayed our yard for bugs and so much more. There is far too much to be thankful for today! =)</div>
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I would first and foremost I would like the thank God, I know so cliche...right?! Seriously though, with Him nothing is impossible and anything is possible! His master plan orchestrated all of this! So...Thank you very much for holding Ashton in your hand and for always placing your strongest and quickest angels around him. Thank you for touching hearts and allowing all of this to work out perfectly. Thank you for giving all those who helped today the strength to do so! Thank you for loving Ashton even more than I do (which is more than I could even express). Thank you for everything!</div>
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Next up would have to be Jessica Toney! From the time we initially spoke on the phone I felt like we had a special connection. You truly are an amazing woman whose compassion, sacrifice, hard-work, dedication and pure awesomeness set you apart. You surprised me at nearly every turn through this process, exceeding my hopes and dreams for this project. I am still in complete awe. You have taught me so much! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart....THANK YOU! PS. I am so glad that Ashton gave you a hug! If anyone deserved that, it was YOU!</div>
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To the Home Depot team leaders and volunteers, you guys are utterly and truly amazing! To take time out of your busy schedules to come and help do all that you did today means so much to me and my family! Your skill and hard-work made all the difference today! Dan, thank you for your GREAT idea to install the fence panels the way we did! That was perfect! Lionel, Thank you for the swing set idea! I know you put your heart into it, we appreciate that so much! As you saw, the kids LOVE it! I could go on and on about each and every single one of you. Thank you so much for everything. You have really touched our hearts and have created memories that will be with us forever! Today we laughed and had a great time and hope that you did too, you are truly an amazing group of people. I can honestly say that it was an absolute pleasure to meet each and every single one of you. Ashland Home Depot is lucky to have such an amazing leader and team! Thank you, thank you, thank you!</div>
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Rachel Reynolds, thank you so much for all you did to help with the grant application and paperwork. You were a very important part of making this happen and we really truly appreciate all you did in this entire arduous process. You have done an amazing job with the school since you took over and this just goes to show that you are more than willing to go above and beyond and that means more to me than you will ever know! Thank you, Rachel!</div>
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To the family and friends that came and helped today, Thank you! Your support and help means so much! We are really lucky to have such amazing family and friends. I know you each love Ashton (and Kayleigh) and it warms my heart to see that love in the hard work that you did today. We love you each so much, THANK YOU!</div>
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Thank you to those who were unable to be there but have been there through prayer and support during the last several months, you know who you are! A special thank you to Sheri, I could tell that this was something close to your heart. Thank you for that, it really means a lot!</div>
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Please stay tuned for pictures! Here is a teaser...</div>
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Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-36581673880538336992013-09-08T15:39:00.001-04:002013-09-08T16:00:02.270-04:00Grandparents Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My kids are so blessed to have such an awesome Grandma, this post is for my mom! My mom is a superhero without a cape! She does so much for everyone around her without expecting <u>anything</u> in return. </div>
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Kayleigh is really developing a special relationship with her and it makes me so happy (most of the time). When she cries when it's time to come home, it makes me sad a little. ;)</div>
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Ashton also loves his grandma so much he is often found stalking her house on Google maps on his Ipad. Anytime we go anywhere he asks for "Grandma's House" so we usually have to prepare him in advance if that is not where we are going. He will still get mad when we take a "wrong turn" (any turn that doesn't lead to her house).</div>
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Thank you, Mom for being the best Mom and Grandma my kids could ever hope for!</div>
Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-9322429889584439592013-09-08T14:04:00.001-04:002013-09-08T14:42:29.108-04:00A Fence For Ashton<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ashton absolutely loves being outside. Due to the location of our home (surrounded by woods, lakes and curvy roads), the only time he is outside in nature is going to and from the car when we go places - which isn't very often, to be honest. I hate that he can't go outside to play and explore like other kids. Ashton elopes, just like 50% of other kids on the autism spectrum. What that basically means for him, is that he will wander (run) away from a safe environment without caution or awareness of danger. He has pulled away from us and ran down the middle of the road, he has gotten out of school and our home on multiple occasions once he has timed and planned each perfect escape. He has walked into a random house, nearly been hit by a car and more. The danger of wandering is very scary which is why we limit going places and being outside. He does have a fenced in yard and playground at school, which he ADORES. The playground is so motivating for him that it is one of the first things he verbally asked for when he began to talk. "Playground" became "I want playground" which evolved into "Follow me to the playground, please" which is what he said to his daddy last week during the open house at Kayleigh's school.</div>
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In May of this year, Jon and I began actively perusing fencing our yard to give Ashton the opportunity to play outside. We had just received our tax refund and thought it would be the perfect time. We began collecting bids from fencing companies and people we know in the construction business. The first bid we received was from a guy that I knew from working in property management, he would be doing it on the side so I thought it would be affordable. I was shocked when the estimate came back at $4,500. The other two bids we got were even more than that! YIKES! </div>
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Not only was the $4,500 way more that what we thought it would be but it was more than we had. We are not monetarily wealthy by any means, raising children with special needs is a very expensive task and siphons away any and all "extra" money! We ended up again experiencing this the first week of June when Ashton was hospitalized for a few days again due to his "wonderful" gastrointestinal issues. Away went the cushion of "extra funds".</div>
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With all that being said, to be perfectly honest, I am one of those people who do for themselves and find it extremely hard to ask for or accept help even when I really need it. When a friend suggested asking for donations it was really hard for me to even think of it as an option but the way that she phrased it made me really think. She said "Allow people to directly help a child with Autism". All of a sudden a realization came to me that people love to help, people get joy from helping. I have been stealing joy by not giving people the opportunity to help in a situation like this where my own pride is keeping Ashton from playing outside. MY OWN PRIDE! That really sunk in. OK God, I get it! </div>
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I set up a <a href="http://www.afenceforashton.com/" target="_blank">website</a> for donations, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/afenceforashton" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/afenceforashton">Twitter</a> pages for awareness. I also got some great ideas for allowing local businesses to help. I thought about Home Depot and the role they played in the recent <a href="http://www.lightitupblue.org/Markslist/home.do" target="_blank">"Light It Up Blue"</a>campaign for Autism Awareness Month in April. I decided to email the local Home Depot. I <span style="font-family: inherit;">called and got the email address for the manager, Jessica. The following is the email I sent:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Good evening, I was told you are the perfect person I need to speak with. I understand that Home Depot is known for its charitable work and volunteer programs within the community. I am also aware that your company was very involved with the “Light It Up Blue” campaign with Autism Speaks in April of this year which brings me to why I am contacting you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To make a long story short my 6 year old son, Ashton, has autism and exhibits severe eloping behaviors. A fenced yard would mean the world to our family and to Ashton. Currently he is unable to play outside like other children his age (unless he is at school or at my mom’s house, both areas are fenced). At any moment no matter how “supervised” he is, he could bolt (and does) and from experience it takes every ounce of strength from my 6ft 2in husband to catch up to him if he gets away. Our house is locked down like Fort Knox and we also participate in the project lifesaver program to dull the constant worry although it does not take the place of having a safe place for my son to play. If we are in a situation outside of the home, he must hold an adults hand which leaves very little freedom for my awesome boy to develop and grow by playing outside and develop his sense of self. My husband and I are trying to raise money to purchase a fence for our backyard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Please feel free to visit <a href="http://www.afenceforashton.com/">www.afenceforashton.com</a> for more information about my son, the importance of a fence and our unique situation. Please let me know if this is something that Home Depot would be interested in getting involved with. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you so much for your time.</span></div>
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I was honestly not really expecting much. I was hoping for maybe a discount on materials or something, but the response I received was awe inspiring I got an email back that evening stating that she would look into what they were able to do and that Ashton touched her heart. She told me she would contact me in about a week. She called me a week later and told me that not only were they going to be completely covering the costs of the materials, but were going to be recruiting volunteers from three Home Depot locations to help build the fence. WHAT? Seriously? How awesome is that? The Home Depot team came out a few weeks later to meet Ashton and take some measurements. They brought him his very own Home Depot apron!</div>
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I am sorry but if this entire situation didn't teach me something, I don't know what will. This whole process has been extremely humbling and amazing! There has been some red tape and planning but the official date of the fence build is this Friday September 13, 2013! We are extremely excited! Stay tuned for pictures and updates!<br />
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P.S. If you need anything for your own home improvement projects, check Home Depot first! They have our continued loyalty and I hope they have yours! They really do care!<br />
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Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-60348711185246476682013-08-17T21:01:00.000-04:002013-08-17T21:02:08.517-04:00Friendship is Magic!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On Friday we said goodbye to Ashton's preschool teachers. These six ladies are amazingly wonderful and have built such great rapport with Ashton that he has personally named each teacher after one of his very favorite cartoon characters. </div>
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I think Jon may kill me for this, but Ashton adores My Little Ponies. It is neat for me, as a mother, to watch my kids take the same joy in something that I did when I was their age. Albeit, they look quite a bit more awesome now!</div>
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What is more age appropriate, then using your imagination to name your teachers your favorite cartoon characters? This makes me so happy on so many levels! He basically began calling his teachers by their new My Little Pony names and at first they were not sure what he was referring to until one of them made the connection. On a side note, I do think they are all happy with the names that were chosen for them. On his farewell poster, each teacher put their corresponding My Little Pony sticker on their picture. It was a really cute gesture. I am so grateful that Ashton got to work with such amazing ladies, we are really going to miss them (except Ms. Emily - we will see you in two weeks!). =)</div>
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Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-69236104521483801402013-08-16T11:18:00.000-04:002013-08-17T21:05:52.383-04:00Autism and Wandering<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
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In July 2009 (Ashton was 2 ½) we got Ashton’s official autism diagnosis from a highly knowledgeable well known specialist in the field of autism. After asking us endless questions and handing Ashton a puzzle that he quickly completed. It went a little something like this, “Your son has autism he falls in the middle of the “spectrum”, get him into a class for kids with autism. Have a good day”. You know how people say that parenthood doesn't come with a “how to” book. Well apparently autism parenting doesn't either. I had no clue what to do. Jon was still in the denial stage of the diagnosis so I felt like I had no support. <u></u><u></u></div>
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I clearly remember a conversation I had with a friend of mine from high school shortly after that day. I wanted to reach out to someone who knew what I was in for. She told me a story about how her son (who also has autism) got out of the house while she was in the kitchen and he was in the living room. She went through the terrifying story and I felt so horrible for her. She warned me, be careful! I had no clue that it was nearly as common as it is. I thought this was a single incident. I wish I would have paid more attention and took heed to the warning. I thought: “Ashton would never do something like that, I am glad I don’t have to deal with that.” Being that Ashton was only 2 ½, I didn't see a big difference between him and typical kids his age. I always had his hand in public and at the house he wasn't quite tall enough to start messing with the doors or coordinated enough to make a quick escape. If it was something I had to worry about you would think the pediatrician would have mentioned it, right?<u></u><u></u></div>
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About 6-8 months later, Ashton began school in the local school system. I will never forget when I met my now best friend (another autism mom) and she asked me the following question “What do you do to keep Ashton safe?” I don’t remember how I responded exactly but I went through what little we were doing as we really didn’t have any reason to think of doing more. We “child proofed” our house wasn’t that enough? She mentioned Project Lifesaver to me and how her son participated in the program. She even gave me the contact information for the deputy to get Ashton enrolled. I am very embarrassed to admit the following thought ever even crossed my mind: “Ashton already has enough going against him right now, that is the last thing we need….something on his wrist or ankle that further sets him apart from all the other kids”. Can I please get a time machine just to punch myself in the face? I still did not realize why it was so important or how prevalent elopement was in kids with autism or honestly what it was exactly.<u></u><u></u></div>
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Spring/Summer of 2011 we started having brief elopement incidents. Ashton was 4 years old and his problem solving skills were evolving. He learned how to operate the child safety locks on cabinets, how to take off the door knob covers, how to unlock the front door. He hadn't quite mastered sneaking so he unlocked and opened the door right in front of Jon and I. He bolted so quickly down the stairs, I was shocked. Jon chased him down and caught up with Ashton half way down the street at which point Ashton was cracking up running down the middle of the road. Not funny buddy, not funny at all. “You have to stay with mommy and daddy” we said very firmly. That was our first real scare. We quickly got a door knob cover for the front door. We had always thankfully been right there when he attempted to get away from us. He would pull his hand out of our grasp and try to run or would take advantage of anytime the door was not locked (taking out the trash etc.) When school started the 2011-2012 school year, I called an IEP meeting making sure that everyone was aware of the new side of Ashton. Especially due to the fact he had a brand new teacher and new principal. He already had a one to one aide written in his IEP, but he had grown so crafty. I wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page and that a plan was in place due to his new found love of attempting to escape from safe environments. At that point I started looking up more information on project lifesaver and got the contact information for our county again. I still had not made the call. <u></u><u></u></div>
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Not until September 28th, read about it here: <a href="http://myperfectlyimperfectparenting.blogspot.com/2012/06/what-is-worst-phone-call-you-have.html">What Is The Worst Phone Call You Have Received?</a>. Almost exactly one month later an event that rocked our community made me so thankful I decided to make that call - <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/10/28/robert-wood-jr-missing-au_n_1064811.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">the story of Robert Wood Jr. </a> Robbie had gone to Ashton’s school. His younger brother was in Ashton’s class. I followed the story wondering how on earth I could live with myself if that was Ashton. Project lifesaver participation jumped dramatically in our county the following days and weeks. <span style="font-size: 11pt;">This story had a wonderfully miraculous ending however the majority of wandering incidents do not. This year alone, at least 14 children with autism have perished after eloping from a care giver and in the past four years wandering lead to the death of at least 60 children. </span></div>
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The relationship between autism and elopement was not, for the longest time, in the forefront of conversations about autism. When something affects close to 50% (according to research published last year in the journal Pediatrics) of such a large group of people (according to a federal survey this year the prevalence rate of autism is up to one in every 50 school age children) you would think it would be highly publicized and known. I was so glad to see the <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory/deaths-wandering-autistic-kids-prompt-action-19929617" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">ABC News story</a> this week, that covers the topic of autism and wandering. Therapy and education are important for those on the spectrum but safety and safety education - awareness should be the #1 priority. <u></u><u></u></div>
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The National Autism Association are doing a great job bringing this topic to light and providing a much needed resource for parents, caregivers and first responders. Visit the site dedicated to autism safety at <a href="http://www.autismsafety.org/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.autismsafety.org/</a> and their main site at <a href="http://nationalautismassociation.org/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://<wbr></wbr>nationalautismassociation.org/</a><wbr></wbr>.</div>
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Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-4075764632577404132013-07-20T22:10:00.000-04:002013-07-20T23:04:26.706-04:00When fear comes to life, it feels like a dream...a very bad dream.<div style="text-align: justify;">
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I woke up this morning to the sounds of the kids bustling around the house. Jon had tried his best to let me sleep in. We had decided we were going to have a nice lazy day, one with no schedules. The last few weekends have been busy and full of planned activities. Today was going to be different, relaxing. God knows we needed it. The kids were already fed, so I ate some cereal as Kayleigh and I cuddled in bed to watch some My Little Pony episodes while the laundry washed. Ashton was going from room to room stopping to do something of interest then moving on leaving his typical trail of humming and other random noises echoing in his wake.</div>
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Jon came in and said he was going to mow the lawn. "Please make sure you lock all the doors so Ashton doesn't get out" I say automatically. I knew he would lock everything like he always does, but something makes me say it anyway. "I will, I always do" he replies to reassure me, somewhat mockingly. Through the years we have stepped up our game as Ashton's problem solving skills evolved. We went from a general child safety knob cover to a more sophisticated knob cover and chain to our current double sided keyed lock and chain lock. The sliding glass door has a door lock, bar lock with key, and a piece of wood tightly in the bottom as an extra measure. When we are both home the chain is kept locked as well as the main lock of course. When one of us runs out for a bit, we typically haven't been locking the chain lock due to the pain of letting the other person back in the house. We felt safe having the double sided lock on the front door, as safe as you can feel when you have a child that likes to bolt given the opportunity. </div>
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After the grass was trimmed, Jon came in, showered and offered to go get some pizza if I called in the order. I called the local Italian pizza place at 12:58pm. They said our order would take 30 minutes, so Jon left between 1:15-1:20 to get the pizza. I heard him leave, I heard the lock mechanism lock after he shut the door. I wanted to take a shower as I was still in my pajamas, but decided to wait until he got back. Ashton, Kayleigh and I were back cuddling enjoying our relaxing day when Ashton decided he was tired of cuddling. He heard the door close and bolted from the bed when the door shut, he likes to watch Jon leave from the window. I didn't think anything of it when he left the bedroom for the living room humming along the way. He came back in and grabbed the iPad and ran back out of the room a moment or two later. A couple minutes later I got up to use the bathroom, I left the door open as I always do listening for anything that needs my attention. </div>
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When I was done, I sat back down beside Kayleigh and noticed something that I don't notice very often.....quiet. No humming, no stomping, no singing, no crashing....NOTHING besides the TV. This was not normal...the soundtrack of our lives is a cacophony of noises, sounds, vocalizations, singing, reciting lines from favorite movies but <b><u>never</u> <u>ever</u></b> quiet. Quiet spawns panic. I briskly walk out of the bedroom to check on Ashton. I call his name...no response. The eerie quiet sustained. I look to the left and my heart dropped as I spy the front door ajar with <b><u>MY</u></b> set of keys dangling from the double sided lock. The dream state began...it felt like my feet were in cement. The air was thick with dread. All I could hear was the sound of my heart beating...quickly beating faster and faster. The thoughts, the terrible thoughts and feelings of guilt began to barrage me. I felt the stomach acid rise to the back of my throat. All the "what if's" began attacking me.... What if he gets hit by a car? What if he wanders into the woods? <i>What is he wearing?</i> I think to myself. Grey.....this is not good...not good at all. </div>
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As quickly as I could, I ran outside to see if I could see him. I yell his name a few times at the top of my lungs "ASHTON" and listen for any sort of response, any rustling of leaves, any humming any noise. NOTHING....not a sound. I couldn't even hear the normal sounds of nature, I was in a glass bubble. I immediately think about the pond that is less than 100 yards from our house. I ran back in and grabbed my phone and told Kayleigh to sit on the bed and not to move. I run back outside forgoing shoes "AAASSSSHHHHTTTTOOOONNNN" I yell again with terror laced in each syllable as I see my neighbor Christy rushing over. She yells, "what's going on?". "Ashton GOT OUT" I reply quickly. She bravely says "I will stay with Kayleigh, you GO". I resumed yelling "ASHTON" at the top of my lungs as I attempted to dial 911 from my cell phone. In this dream like state, I found it hard to think straight.</div>
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Before I am even able to physically hit "send" I hear a reply yell..."I HAVE HIM, HE IS SAFE" a female voice responds then quickly recites her address. "ACROSS THE STREET, I HAVE HIM, I called the sheriff" she yells as I dreamily follow the voice across the street and down her driveway, the gravel cutting into my feet. As soon as the trees clear, I see him beside her standing there as if nothing happened. He glances up at the sky squinting his eyes then focuses his eyes on me for a brief second. My phone rang just then at 1:29pm, I briefly looked down at my phone and didn't recognize the number. I wasn't thinking that it could be the Sherriffs office, I wasn't thinking straight at all. All I was thinking was "there is my boy, my heart, my life...SAFE." I didn't answer the phone, I ran up to Ashton. I try to quickly explain as I grabbed his hand and held him close to me. Holding him tightly I try and explain. "He is autistic, I am so sorry" partly to her and partly to him. How could I let this happen?</div>
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Thankfully she explains that she is a teacher and noticed that he had autism as soon as she saw him. Which I guess was very apparent when he rang her door bell, walked right in and started immediately playing with her daughters toys before she could even get to the door. She also noticed the tracking device on his ankle. I am so thankful for this awesome neighbor that I had never met before. I am thankful that Ashton's angels were working overtime to lead him to the perfect place that would recognize the situation and would do the perfect thing by calling the sherriffs office. I am so thankful that he is safe, sleeping in his own bed tonight. </div>
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The unspoken understanding is that we have to step up security measures yet again but words can not even scratch the surface of explaining the emotions and fall out of the event that occurred today. This was THE single most horrifying event that has ever rocked my life and I am thankful beyond words of how it played out. I am honestly still in shock, still shaken up. My head is still pounding and the nausea will not subside. I am unsure how long it will take for me to be able to get over this.</div>
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I understand, more now then ever, the studies comparing the stress level of a combat soldier and those with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) to an autism mom. Since Ashton's first elopement attempt we have been sitting in our metaphorical foxhole planning, preparing and waiting for the next "attack" facing it and preparing for the next, always stepping up our game. We don't sleep soundly, we have to be constantly vigilant day and night. We can not function like typical parents do. The constant nagging worry will be stronger and more toxic this time around. An event like this will have lasting effects on the both of us physically, emotionally and mentally. Please pray that we can find some sort of normalcy in the coming weeks, months and years. Please pray for Ashton's safety above all. As we saw today, he is a determined little guy that will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. </div>
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Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-22101667113965466562012-06-26T12:37:00.000-04:002012-06-26T13:00:41.013-04:00What Is The Worst Phone Call You Have Received?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwyVRQbYhcBeYZuTk9QaxYpMztTfdewi0-S6mnbQ7jUOD_kE_kXhm8nFZ7nLWMADOUDR1N-6dHVwVRX97XRDiAdpURimtLfIU7Oj1RjJfBoq9dgTJWH-J2theqs8zlKhiIF-Syy7W8D9n/s1600/Watcher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwyVRQbYhcBeYZuTk9QaxYpMztTfdewi0-S6mnbQ7jUOD_kE_kXhm8nFZ7nLWMADOUDR1N-6dHVwVRX97XRDiAdpURimtLfIU7Oj1RjJfBoq9dgTJWH-J2theqs8zlKhiIF-Syy7W8D9n/s320/Watcher.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Watcher - Painting by Thomas Blackshear II</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I feel that I am finally
able to openly discuss the alarming event that occurred the fall of
this past school year. Some of the recent frustrations that I am
facing are a direct result of this and to give a better background I
am now going to put it all out there.</span></div>
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At around 3:30pm
Wednesday, September 28, 2011, I received a phone call from the school
where Ashton attended. As a parent, anytime the caller ID reads “THE
SCHOOL”, I think we innately freeze and our heart stops beating. I
personally think that biological response triples for those of us who
parent children with special needs. <br />
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The following is part of the
reason why....</div>
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“Good Afternoon Mrs.
Parker, I am calling to inform you that Ashton got out of the school
today.” “Please don't worry, he is safe now, but just wanted to call and let you know what happened.” The
“downplaying” of the event promptly followed.
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Once I was able to get
the facts this is what occurred...</div>
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At lunch (around
10:30-11:00am), Ashton's 1:1 aide got up from the lunch table to fix
his oatmeal, once she was away from him, Ashton promptly got up from
the lunch table and proceeded to run through the cafeteria, down the
small rear hall and out the side doors leading outside. Once he was
outside the school he proceeded down the middle of the side road in
front of the school towards the major highway/byway the school
resides on (a major roadway where cars are know to travel the upwards
of 70 miles per hour-speed limit of 55). Thankfully when he was
about 15-20 feet from the highway a woman driving towards Ashton
stopped her minivan, got out and intercepted him. She then led him back to the school.</div>
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What isn't said here is
that I have recording after recording of IEP meetings (If you are not
sure what an IEP is read <a href="http://myperfectlyimperfectparenting.blogspot.com/2011/01/oxygen-please.html" target="_blank">here</a>) prior to this event detailing his
known elopement behavior. Especially once I knew that this school
year would start with a brand new teacher, a brand new principal and
several new aides working within the classroom I made sure that I
over explained during several IEP meetings WHY we have a 1:1 written
in the IEP and the importance of someone being within arms reach of
Ashton in order to prevent something like that from happening.
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There are many horrible,
terrible, devastating outcomes that I am sure were rushing through
your mind as you read the details of the event. I am beyond thankful
that Ashton's angels were working overtime that day and that nothing
horrible happened. It did not however, leave the school void of
responsibility. After multiple meetings it was finally decided that
it was appropriate for him to attend a private day school for
children with Autism at the county's expense. It was promised by the
new school, that he would have a 1:1 aide with him at all times and
thankfully we haven't had any successful attempts at elopement since
he started at his new school.</div>
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I am in shock at how well
he has done and how far he has come in the last several months since
this placement started. To find an environment where you see
tremendous growth in your child is priceless. It was like a huge
burden was lifted off of my shoulders, I felt like I didn't have to
fight so hard anymore. I felt like all my dreams had come true....No more
IEP meetings where you leave feeling like you want to crawl in a hole
and die, defeated. NO MORE!! These people really care!</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On to recent
frustrations.....</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the last day of school
June 15, 2012 I received a lovely letter stating that due to the fact
that ownership of the school had changed hands and that the
curriculum was changing they were not going to be able to provide a
1:1 student/aide ratio any longer.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The event that occurred
in September came rushing back full force. After speaking with the
representative from the school that following Monday it was
ultimately determined that NO ONE was going to receive a 1:1 aide and
there was no way around that. They understood if I felt that
placement elsewhere was appropriate for him. A flood of emotions hit
me in that moment and I again felt defeated. What happened to not
having to fight anymore? What happened to thinking that “these
people REALLY have my sons best interest at heart”. I felt like an
environment that demonstrated without question to help him was being
pulled out from under him like a deceitful rug. After I said
somethings that I now regret, I sat in my car and cried. I cried one
of those ugly cries...you know the ones I am talking about. Make up
running, sobbing with the ugliest possible contortion to your
face...Yeah, that’s the one!</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After a head slitting
headache and the drive home. I realized I can not do this on my own
anymore. Jon has never really been involved in the kids schooling.
That has been completely and utterly on my shoulders alone. I attend
IEP meetings alone, I go through IEP's alone, I research education
laws on my own, I draft/edit IEP goals on my own....I don't care if
he has no clue what is going on, I need support. We talked.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After I vented to Jon,
prayed and slept, I felt a little more refreshed the next day. I
called the representative back and started with an apology for my
emotional response and asked if we could call a meeting to discuss
options. We are talking about developing a safety plan for Ashton
that meets his needs to prevent elopement without a 1:1.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is my prayer..please
join with me!</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Heavenly Father, thank
you so much for continually keeping Ashton safe and getting him in
this program where he has shown so much growth. I know that you have
a plan for this situation and that you ALWAYS have his best interests
in mind. Please help us develop a plan that works. Please give
guidance to the teachers and aides that work with Ashton. I pray
that he continues to grow and learn in this new program. Above all,
please continue to keep him safe. Place your strongest and fastest
angels around him. In Jesus name, AMEN!</div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-4002147672078044252012-06-23T20:25:00.000-04:002012-06-23T20:27:18.765-04:00I Miss You!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRFG6vBw3gvF2FbsBKeS08SWCk-v1BNPHPT4akV3rWxXPlbI9Xt-zl9Q8_e-4IaiI71_fGG2Of1irH0sr0cVJrMm_uDEnzmkqkzmXVE3Ad5Q2WHcpyYLgbe2xGdgrF8le8hAJMVML6OcW2/s1600/dad+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRFG6vBw3gvF2FbsBKeS08SWCk-v1BNPHPT4akV3rWxXPlbI9Xt-zl9Q8_e-4IaiI71_fGG2Of1irH0sr0cVJrMm_uDEnzmkqkzmXVE3Ad5Q2WHcpyYLgbe2xGdgrF8le8hAJMVML6OcW2/s320/dad+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Dad, Shawna, Barbara, Shauna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This past Thursday, June 21, 2012, marks 6 years since my dad passed away. 6 years...wow!
To say that I miss him would be an understatement. I miss so much
about him, but most of all his sense of humor.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anyone who knew my dad, knew that he
had a nickname for everyone. I can still hear him calling me a
variation of Banny Rooster, Rooster or Roostie which apparently came
from the term Bantam (or Banty) Rooster. Banty Roosters are
typically ¼ the size of other roosters but make up for
their size in attitude and spirit. I may be small, but don't mess
with me or my family.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My love for fishing came from my dad.
I remember many times growing up that he would take my sister and I
fishing. We always would have a contest to see who would catch more (Shawna was usually off picking flowers leaving her pole unattended). I remember him making me feel so good when I caught a fish. He
would win most of the time of course, but I remember one particular
time that I kept catching fish after fish and he caught none. He was
a good sport about it but I could tell he didn't like losing.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He loved watching football, in
particularly the New York Jets. I remember his quirky game watching
preparation which always included green olives that he would eat
during the game. He swore it was good luck. Although, more often
than not it resulted in him throwing the green olives at the screen.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will never forget how my dad always
kept a beautiful salt water fish tank. I now know how difficult they
are to maintain but I don't ever remember him not having one. That
is part of the reason I became so interested in salt water fish and
ocean life.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My dad was a mechanic, a reliable and
hard working man that showed up to work on time and rarely ever
called in sick. He was knowledgeable and in my eyes knew everything
there was to know about cars. He always went above and beyond for
family and friends. If you needed your car worked on he would make
time to help you out.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dad, I miss you! I miss you so much!
Every single Father's Day that goes by it hurts a little more. I
hate that you are no longer here! I hate that I can't just call you
or come by. I hate that Ashton and Kayleigh didn't have the
privilege of meeting or getting to know you. I hate that they missed
out on getting their very own nickname from their grandpa or getting
their ears “widgeed”. I hope you get to take glimpses down here
often to see how we are doing. Ashton and Kayleigh are doing so
well, these last 6-8 months have been tremendous. I am really
looking forward to see what happens in the next several months. I
know you are too. Time is a funny thing, the older I get the faster
the years go. I know I will see you again, and I hold on to that. I
love you, daddy! I miss you!
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvpt04xzfzTBxazXwxCjdJX3WAeqBYVkWM7G06GzJfbnYLfjqTlLpgfRJ8RpxkNPS9l_JBw8MbISmcB7zGKz8xYyKM0ZtVa6j3TgJbcErBPMHiAScLTTG8qP4AW7cIAfMefgV_z2ICArX/s1600/dad1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvpt04xzfzTBxazXwxCjdJX3WAeqBYVkWM7G06GzJfbnYLfjqTlLpgfRJ8RpxkNPS9l_JBw8MbISmcB7zGKz8xYyKM0ZtVa6j3TgJbcErBPMHiAScLTTG8qP4AW7cIAfMefgV_z2ICArX/s320/dad1.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Keith Paul Potter
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">July 31, 1956 – June 21, 2006 </span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-69227314184332181162012-06-21T13:59:00.000-04:002012-06-21T14:04:13.704-04:00What A Ride!<h1 class="western" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Footprints in
the Sand</span></h1>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One night I dreamed I was
walking along the beach with the Lord.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Many scenes from my life flashed
across the sky.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In each scene I noticed
footprints in the sand.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sometimes there were two sets of
footprints,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">other times there were one set
of footprints.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This bothered me because I
noticed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">that during the low periods of
my life,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">when I was suffering from</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">anguish, sorrow or defeat,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I could see only one set of
footprints.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So I said to the Lord,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“You promised me Lord,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">that if I followed you,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">you would walk with me always.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">there have only been one set of
footprints in the sand.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Why, when I needed you most, you
have not been there for me?”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Lord replied,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“The times when you have seen
only one set of footprints in the sand,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">is when I carried you.”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-Mary Stevenson</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oq8kiw563iDqki78BMFjPnXmj2kDhuAYUkMV7Dr8JmePatagXVhV2J_g7ELXfR8FYs1VYmGPGhr4smkdmX8NtgaKzwZ6YA7WfurgnL7XLGg-gSzyXqb8HvRoxFJeez5TR_g2NEE2r02D/s1600/beachfoot.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_oq8kiw563iDqki78BMFjPnXmj2kDhuAYUkMV7Dr8JmePatagXVhV2J_g7ELXfR8FYs1VYmGPGhr4smkdmX8NtgaKzwZ6YA7WfurgnL7XLGg-gSzyXqb8HvRoxFJeez5TR_g2NEE2r02D/s1600/beachfoot.gif" /></a></div>
<br /></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-21918292240968209412012-06-19T12:03:00.000-04:002012-06-19T12:20:44.411-04:00God Won't Give Me More Than I Can Handle, Or Will He?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJudcEFtxkfQFFuPthA-0J83Yn3OGocmVFB-vncqibYpBr9yFoQ6nr_2Q3TTEF5FrDiw1cdrva_HtbpQY6e7KptF-5Zo-QcpYcUkSJiMkKybB07ICyLeENEywOE0UpvRSzUdu0EnXNkSLK/s1600/handle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJudcEFtxkfQFFuPthA-0J83Yn3OGocmVFB-vncqibYpBr9yFoQ6nr_2Q3TTEF5FrDiw1cdrva_HtbpQY6e7KptF-5Zo-QcpYcUkSJiMkKybB07ICyLeENEywOE0UpvRSzUdu0EnXNkSLK/s320/handle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These last 6 weeks or so have nearly gotten me
to the point of donning a “comfy” white jacket with overlong
sleeves crossed at the chest and wrapped behind the back. I am also
thinking of making a small white <span style="background-color: white;">cushioned</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">room my humble new abode.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You know the old adage “God won't
give you more than you can handle”. We have <u>ALL</u> heard it
from well meaning family or friends and may have even used that
phrase to make someone in a tough situation feel better. I am also
sure you can think of situations in your life where you questioned
this very statement and possibly even questioned God because of the
statement that we have just taken as fact due to hearing it so much. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have come to cringe when I hear that statement and thought I was a
“bad christian/parent/person” for feeling that way. Well guess
what?! It is not in the bible anywhere...period! Believe me, I
looked and looked and looked. God <u><b>NEVER</b></u> said he
wouldn't give us more than we could handle. I am no theologian by
any means but He did say that He wouldn't temp us beyond our ability
to withstand temptation and make good choices.
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">1
Corinthians 10:13 "No temptation has overtaken you that is not
common to man, God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted
beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the
way of escape, that you may be able to endure it."</span>
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Maybe that is why I haven't actually
turned myself over to the local mental health authorities demanding
they give me my padded room and straight-jacket. I am withstanding
that strong temptation.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It doesn't mean however, there won't be things in
life that overwhelm you, encumber you and completely wear you out pushing you well past your comfort zone and eventually past your breaking point. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He does promise however, to be there when we are weary, burdened and completely spent. I honestly think He </span><u style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>DOES</b></u><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> give us more
than we can handle sometimes so we do run to him for rest and solace.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Come
to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."
(Matthew 11:28)</span> </span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-44726163211844040242012-06-16T13:08:00.001-04:002012-06-16T13:09:35.994-04:00Count Your Blessings!Within the last several months we have found out that Ashton can read. He is actually sounding some things out but has an awesome memory as well; once he learns a word it is in his memory bank for good. The school sent me a video of him reading a book recently. Keep in mind, Ashton being able to attend to a book page by page is a huge milestone in and of itself. See for yourself...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw-P1TbWsF-O-VcfZR_13w7vi1_fJgyyzBgsRq9FDaqR1oxdSBoiF79kbuw4b2KpMgN-b8nnL7A9tUTK4n_1Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today I wrote out some flash cards with the first words that I thought of. Some of the words were those I knew he knew, others were very random. He did amazing. My little guy is reading! (I apologize for the loud woman in the video...do I really sound that obnoxious?) </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxpHRzC37WwuUVEX8dSJEREmbH2EjMrfCVcPw9b_GGId3emF6xc47xQx1ktgvrjBpTgM3YMUzsh92VOeb2Rew' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On a side note of progress...Ashton has pooped on the potty two days in a row!!! This is huge in and of itself and I am praying that we are finally on to something here. We have been very blessed within the last 6 months in the potty department. Kayleigh has become completely potty trained and is able to verbally request when she has to go which is HUGE! Ashton goes all day long dry and pees on the potty on a schedule. He is not quite able to request when he has to go, but we are working on that. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
However.....this "poop" progress is HUGE due to other underlying reasons, It has been my arch enemy lately. Especially within the last two weeks...in which I went through colonoscopy prep with him (YES, you read that correctly....that is an epic story alone) as well as a poop smearing art project (I will not bless you with a picture of this) on his bedroom wall only days after the colonoscopy prep madness. So I am here to say that two days with <b>no poop</b> <u>to clean up</u>....I am practically in Heaven!! </div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-48747012342738398662012-06-16T12:18:00.001-04:002012-06-21T14:02:56.244-04:00Special Needs Moms<br />
<div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.25in; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Special
Needs Moms</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">A Look Inside</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
may think us “special moms” have it pretty rough.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
have no choice. We just manage life when things get really
tough.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We’ve
made it through the days we thought we’d never make it
through.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We’ve
even impressed our own selves with all that we can do.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We’ve
gained patience beyond measure, love we never dreamed of giving.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
worry about the future but know this “special” life’s worth
living.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
have bad days and hurt sometimes, but we hold our heads up high.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
feel joy and pride and thankfulness more often than we cry.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For
our kids, we aren’t just supermoms. No, we do so much more.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
are cheerleaders, nurses and therapists who don’t walk out the
door.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
handle rude remarks and unkind stares with dignity and grace.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Even
though the pain they bring cannot be erased.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Therapies
and treatment routes are a lot for us to digest.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
don’t know what the future holds but give our kids our best.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">None
of us can be replaced, so we don’t get many breaks.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
wears us out, but to help our kids, we’ll do whatever it takes.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
are selfless, not by choice, you see. Our kids just have more
needs.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We’re
not out to change the world, but want to plant some seeds.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
want our kids accepted. That really is our aim.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
we look at them we just see kids. We hope you’ll do the
same.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;">~April
Vernon</span></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-80779614817380132712012-02-17T20:15:00.000-05:002012-02-17T20:15:01.500-05:00My Valentines Gift<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEiPceZOB-HiHVtAjCtAeq98M5366uOOb82U-L_op5NNVGQnxtTdcn4noeTgGzN-kEV9uMUlfJBhQfSbhr9jTSKYTqBtYzayzqkmd8IIeXuHCaVc433bye7ZoAGvcYXyONg1D37UKYNBwK/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEiPceZOB-HiHVtAjCtAeq98M5366uOOb82U-L_op5NNVGQnxtTdcn4noeTgGzN-kEV9uMUlfJBhQfSbhr9jTSKYTqBtYzayzqkmd8IIeXuHCaVc433bye7ZoAGvcYXyONg1D37UKYNBwK/s1600/images.jpg" /></a>Yesterday was a super long day at work away from the munchkins. I left the house about 6:30am and didn’t get back home until well after the kids were in bed for the night. This gets harder and harder for me each and every night this happens. Going back to working outside of the home has been a very tough transition. Thankfully the 8pm entrance is not typical and only an occasional occurrence. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, after my super long day and commute I get in, change in to my comfortable clothes and hear Ashton still playing in his room. Ok before you start throwing stones….wondering why on earth we let him stay up and play in his room after we put him to bed, Ashton and sleep have a love - hate relationship. No matter what time he goes to bed, he is up at 6am (on the dot). His internal clock barely even gets confused when the time changes. With that being said, no matter what we have done or tried, he will not go to bed unless he is completely ready for bed. Most nights these days he is thankfully pretty ready for sleep within the first hour which is why the kids have a strict 7pm bedtime. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Our nightly ritual (ceremony, procedure or whatever strictly repetitive routine description you wish to place here) starts with giving a verbal queue to the kids that they have x amount of minutes to continue their current preferred activity…then another verbal reminder “1 more minute <s>torturing your sister/brother</s> playing on the iPad”. After that minute or approximate mommy minute, we begin ushering the kids to their rooms. They go to their respective rooms and await the blanket routine which entails being covered in a very specific order starting with each of their favorite crochet blankets. Then comes the nightly prayer, then the kisses….and in Ashton’s case, I kiss and kiss and hug and hug repeating “Good Night” or “Night night” until he repeats it back. Then comes the “I love you’s” until he repeats it back. It may very well be torturous, I’m sorry but I love hearing him say it. It took nearly 5 years to hear it, ok?! After the “I love you”, if he hasn’t gotten enough kisses to last the night yet, he takes my head and keeps pulling me down to his face until he is all kissed out. =) Which lasts longer some nights then others. After he is done and ready for me to leave he pushes me away from him. After all the kisses and love, I am totally ok with this part. =D I say one last good night and I love you and leave the room. For some reason Jon always has to be the last one out of the room, we found this out the hard way. Once daddy says his final good nights and I love you’s, we close the door. If he is not ready for bed he will get back up and play for a little while until he is ready for bed. He then will cover himself up and go to sleep.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Ok so where were we…oh yes, I hear Ashton playing in his room. Of course my heart leaps a little bit knowing that I can go say goodnight at least (even if that means ritual must start all over). I open the door and his little face looks up at me from the bed (which he jumped back in quickly covering himself back up when he heard me coming in). I lean over him and give him a huge kiss and hug and say “I love you sooooo much!” To which he appropriately responded with “I luh you tooo”!! This was a FIRST. You may be thinking….ummm, Brandi….you announced several months ago that Ashton said “I love you” for the first time. You would be correct. Let me clarify something for you though. Children with Autism commonly use echolalia which is repeating what they hear exactly as they hear it…such as if you would ask “how are you?” they would respond with “how are you?” instead of appropriately responding to the question being asked. This in and of itself was a great step for Ashton, appropriately responding to something said instead of just repeating. This also tells me he hears a lot of “I love you” and I love you too’s”. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">This concludes a wonderful Valentines week, pretty much the best one yet!!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-74351396845451899682011-12-29T21:39:00.000-05:002011-12-29T21:39:56.335-05:00The Santa Clause.....<div style="text-align: justify;">The Christmas Season these days is much different from the ones of the past. Take decorations for instance... I never imagined having to be so careful deciding what to put out/up based on the likelihood it will be eaten, demolished or cause bodily harm in any way shape or form. The (not so) annual village has been a definite “NO GO” for the last few years (which my mom saw first hand this year after a few gates were ripped from their hinges and placed where they were<i> really</i> meant to go in her bravely displayed village...sorry mom!). Everything from traditions and gathering all the way down to the actual gifts. This year I will proudly say that Ashton actually unwrapped his gifts with minimal assistance. Maybe we can work on the enthusiasm next year? Hehe </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">On to Santa.... </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">This year was the first year that we braved a Santa visit. I will admit that I was a bit nervous. I hate putting him in situations that overwhelm him but also scenarios that give people more of an opportunity to say something idiotic or downright hateful. First hurdle, the dreaded waiting in line....CHECK, he did amazingly well with minimal resistance and vocalizations. When we got to the front of the line the elf briefed us and was trying to engage the children in conversation. Kayleigh played along pretty well. Ashton just hummed his usual one note tune and looked at the elf briefly as he took the sticker being offered, knowing it would become a later snack. It was then our turn with Santa. We gingerly walked up to Santa. I placed Kayleigh on Santa's lap. She was just going with the flow...”Hi Santa” Kayleigh squeaks. I look over at Ashton as Jon gently lead him up to Santa. “I don't know how he is going to do, Santa” I warn. “Oh he is fine! Sit him up here on Santa's lap” Poor Santa didn't know what he was in for if this encounter didn't go well. Sweet ignorance! However, as Jon placed Ashton on Santa's lap he looked up into Santa's face and said in the sweetest little Ashton voice ever....”OH, OH, OH” It wasn't quite Ho, Ho, Ho....BUT IT WILL DO!!!!!! Of course I freak out...Santa probably thought I lost my mind...”GOOD JOB BUDDY, THAT'S RIGHT...HO, HO, HO!!! SANTA SAYS HO, HO, HO!!! YAY ASHTON” I then backed up with tears pooling in my eyes just in time to get out of the way of the picture they were trying to snap. The photo turned out great, although I am a little bias....you be the judge!!!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Ahhhhh Christmas Time.....Different Not Less!!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-72395129775296788202011-04-02T20:43:00.001-04:002011-04-02T20:43:49.437-04:00What Autism Is To Me...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Today, April 2, is World Autism Awareness Day the launch of Autism Awareness Month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Awareness has come a long way in the last few years which has led to a better general knowledge of the disorder; however, I feel that awareness is merely not enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We really and truly need to take the next step and push for acceptance and genuine understanding of those with autism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To do my part, I am going to try and explain what autism is to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism to me is a blessing and a continual challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism is a rainbow of abilities and strengths; it’s a kaleidoscope of difficulties and weaknesses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism does not define us but has become and forever will be an intricate part of my family and life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is every day, night, week, month and year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is with us during meal times when he will only eat from a very strict list of foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is with us when noises that I don’t even hear cause him to cover his ears in distress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is with us when he craves sensory input by crashing, tumbling, flipping and jumping. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is with us when he smiles and laughs for no apparent reason; I love those times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s his fascination with the intricacies of things; he takes in each piece, each part…watching and observing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the exaggeration of smell, sights, sounds, textures and tastes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s hand flapping and spinning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s taking off running into danger without understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s temper tantrums, throwing things; it’s his frustration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s sleepless nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the family holiday traditions that I have had to let die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism is constant adjustment and accommodation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is routine, everything is carefully planned and executed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Familiarity is a teasing presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Newness spawns chaos and unease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is accepting that my son isn’t and won’t be like other boys his age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He probably won’t play on sports teams or go to sleep overs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He may or may not go to college or get married or give me grandchildren…and that’s ok (most days).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just want him to be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is unconditional never-ending love, a true bond between a parent and child unlike any other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s knowing that your child loves you more than anything even when he can’t yet verbally express that love. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is not taking ANYTHING for granted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every single reached milestone and skill is cause for great celebration. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s seeing your child make great progress and then witness a regression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism is trying to stay focused on all the positives.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is a rollercoaster of emotions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s an ongoing loop of smiles and struggles, laughter and tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s fearlessness and helplessness; joyfulness and sadness; loneliness and companionship.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is a battle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s fighting with school administration to get appropriate scientifically based instruction for your child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s struggling to get him the speech, occupational and physical therapy he needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s being the “squeaky wheel”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Autism is worry, the nagging worry of will happen to my little guy when my husband and I can no longer be here to care for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s all of the “what ifs”, the uncertainties of the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fear of bullying when he goes to school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Worry about jail when I beat the crap out of said bully(s).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Last but not least, autism is a teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have learned so much about my son, myself and those around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism has revealed to me the dire need for acceptance of those with differences; the profound necessity for parents to teach their children to embrace differences and not judge others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I once frowned upon parents whose children misbehaved in public; Instead of assuming bad parenting, I now always assume there is some underlying circumstance occurring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who am I to judge?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand first-hand what it is like to be in public for a sensory overloaded melt down with my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand the stares and the mumbling under ones breath, the rolling of the eyes and blatantly rude and hateful statements directed at me and my son (THAT HE HEARS TOO).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism is not judging a book by its cover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being different is just that, different…not negative or less! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In closing, I urge you to not only be aware of what autism is but transcend mere knowledge into understanding and acceptance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Autism is here and it’s not going anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-2775393589302048692011-03-10T01:11:00.000-05:002012-06-16T13:10:23.924-04:00I Won't Let Go.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; 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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have always been one to relate to music. Today I heard the song “I Won’t Let Go” by Rascal Flatts. I immediately thought of Ashton and this path that we are on together. This song truly touched my heart today. As tears trailed slowly down my cheeks, I took this song to heart in two unique ways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">God has given me this amazing gift, a gift that has taught me more than I ever would have thought possible. God not only sees how much of a blessing and joy Ashton is to me; He also knows my struggles, the pain, the heartache and my incessant worries. He knows there are very dark days where I feel lost, helpless, hopeless and alone. This song reminds me that even on the darkest and hardest days, even when I feel so alone…..I’M NOT. He won’t let go! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This song is also a declaration from me to Ashton. Words can’t express how proud I am of my little guy; he works incredibly hard each and every day on things that come so naturally to most other children. I know we have quite a journey ahead of us but I am here; here to love, support, comfort, encourage, and fight the fight…advocating for him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><em>I love you, Ashton. Mommy is so proud of you and how far you have come. I know some days are so much harder for you than other days. I know you want so badly to be able to tell me what’s going on, I see it in your eyes. I know we have some hard days ahead but I just want you to know that I am here. You’re not alone. I will stand by you. I will help you through. When you’ve done all you can do and you can’t cope; I will dry your eyes. I promise to fight your fight. I will hold you tight and I won’t let go!</em></span></div>
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<br /></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-41772680005857606752011-03-03T18:11:00.003-05:002011-03-03T21:34:09.094-05:00First Love?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">Ashton rides in a county car to and from school, instead of a typical bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are two to three other children that ride in the vehicle as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beth, our driver, told me the cutest story that I have to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01BuqblW6YXsPr4SAFcOmHTSsNWq1K3NGVL3c2cs6_Zbk-c-xcuhtekXparDXpzz13ix5AdKpQ9tNvHaba7540NtnsJH_3fcdQQh5hfPhtV5legPwaPaaMIJS3Tt29y4NOlLYtUHpSnlU/s1600/pg-toddler-intro-holding-hands-full+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01BuqblW6YXsPr4SAFcOmHTSsNWq1K3NGVL3c2cs6_Zbk-c-xcuhtekXparDXpzz13ix5AdKpQ9tNvHaba7540NtnsJH_3fcdQQh5hfPhtV5legPwaPaaMIJS3Tt29y4NOlLYtUHpSnlU/s200/pg-toddler-intro-holding-hands-full+copy.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">Yesterday afternoon Ashton’s aide fastened him into his car seat; a little later the 4 year old little girl that rides in the car seat next to him was buckled in. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon as she was in her seat, Ashton took her hand, held it with his and lifted it to block the sunlight that was coming into the car shining brightly into his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He then let her hand go and she put it back down in her lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few seconds later, he looked at her and took her hand again, this time just holding it in his. They sat there holding hands all the way home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How cute is that?!</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">Thanks Mrs. Beth, for sharing this story with me as well as being an awesome driver!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We love you!</span></div></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-37556313815758736902011-03-03T13:45:00.001-05:002011-03-03T13:58:56.646-05:00Long Time, No See!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ok, so I have been MIA for a little while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really want to keep this going so let’s play some “catch up”.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><u>Updates:</u></strong></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VO4jlgBV0Gt8uxfcwu1a6cbBkAMHSPk9sUgLIlIoWp2Fb_AW_7-_T5jXz4lG1LFCCk6NFEaVhvLKIuK77AdwxRDCtViz8WOA5fz7niAiKHg2dZiy0Jy-OFEJwqSVdRZPg2hA_tB4QjUg/s1600/FSCN0432_edited-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VO4jlgBV0Gt8uxfcwu1a6cbBkAMHSPk9sUgLIlIoWp2Fb_AW_7-_T5jXz4lG1LFCCk6NFEaVhvLKIuK77AdwxRDCtViz8WOA5fz7niAiKHg2dZiy0Jy-OFEJwqSVdRZPg2hA_tB4QjUg/s320/FSCN0432_edited-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><u>Kayleigh</u> - </em></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It’s really amazing how far this little girl has come in the last couple of months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is now singing her alphabet (not 100% accurate, but it’s a working progress); She is requesting a lot now even without verbal prompts, which is awesome (drink, snack, she will even request kisses); her vocabulary is steadily growing; She can name and make the sound for about 20 animals; She has finally started correctly identifying body parts (eyes, nose, mouth, hair, ears, tummy, foot); She is labeling things like crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I am typing this I hear her in her room saying “eyes, nose, mouth” to which I am guessing she is identifying body parts on one of her stuffed animals, which she loves to do (all the time).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s really too cute to watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I will get a video and put it on here soon.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I would like to also note for the record, that she said “I love you” to me before bed this week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t describe how that felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know both of my babies love me beyond any doubt in the world, but hearing those three little words did something to me in that moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I cry?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I even have to answer that one? haha</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPtn23ZOyN872dImTAhyphenhyphens5KysVVzSCrv1bbWCX3mLKrTuzDykqJQPmNbQ9gR1CIOMCyUke7byZ9Dj8yuB7oMrLkHLvatY0_MYmvC4XAI1duoI09xlUKMaBbAeZ1z2ep1aWNGYn44CJZhm/s1600/DSCN0609_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPtn23ZOyN872dImTAhyphenhyphens5KysVVzSCrv1bbWCX3mLKrTuzDykqJQPmNbQ9gR1CIOMCyUke7byZ9Dj8yuB7oMrLkHLvatY0_MYmvC4XAI1duoI09xlUKMaBbAeZ1z2ep1aWNGYn44CJZhm/s320/DSCN0609_edited-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><u>Ashton</u> – </em></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My little guy is doing his thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last night when he was done with his dinner, he said “all done” and did the sign!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I cry..omg YES, I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He amazes me every single day, he is a trooper for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During a recent conference with Ashton’s teacher I was told that in a 30 minute session they have recorded as many as 20 random words from him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That just blows my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is loving singing and will request for you to sing his favorite song to him by saying “winkle winkle”, which of course is Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He even sings along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I catch him singing and saying things all the time but they are ALWAYS on his terms. Hehe </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I am really going to try and make an effort to keep this blogging thing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only is it nice to look back on the progress of the kids, but it’s just nice to write sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I did notice that I have some new followers, welcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hope you are enjoying it here. =)</span></span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-34089233086826408072011-01-29T19:05:00.001-05:002011-01-29T20:11:50.722-05:00What Ashton CAN do.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxvAk9foyA8ed-tl5dteEik7aN4ssLm8alsUey5onleXW8geRVK0MYS5vvBhlxtV6gRdyphj9GebOntfTNVuQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">It’s easy to focus on what your child can’t do when you are faced with the day to day challenges of Autism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today I want to celebrate what Ashton CAN do and how far he has come since he started school last January. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">Ashton can sit during meals with minimal supervision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He eats with a fork and spoon successfully.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He can pull up his pants with a verbal prompt and assist with parts of his dressing routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He brushes his teeth with minimal assistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gives “high fives”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will walk while holding your hand with minimal resistance, which has helped tremendously with his darting and running. He can follow simple one step routine directions; such as throwing things in the trash and hanging up his book bag. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He can throw, kick and catch a ball.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He imitates actions/movements to songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is matching the names of his classmates to their pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He participates and takes turns in circle time with minimal support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is starting to say some spontaneous words and will echoic a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every night before bed he will say “night, night” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as a cue for me to open his bedroom door for bedtime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is playing with his toys in a more appropriate way and has even acquired some pretend play skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will actually let me read to him now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is interested in the pictures in books and is beginning to understand that the words on the page have meaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will give hugs and kisses with a verbal prompt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also now enjoys coloring and drawing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He can rote count from 1-20 and can identify some numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He can say his alphabet and can identify some letters and letter sounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows some shapes and colors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">It’s really difficult to establish a baseline for all Ashton knows and has learned because once he masters something he gets bored with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am extremely proud of my little guy and how much he has learned, overcome, grown and matured in these last 12 months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am excited to see what this next year brings; with God all things are possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-68564623441981093362011-01-26T14:08:00.001-05:002011-01-26T14:18:45.917-05:00Self-Discipline<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">Kayleigh has been throwing her food on the floor, when she is finished, for as long as I can remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is two now and is old enough to know better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been working with “all done” and setting her things to the side when she is finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When that fails, I have been making her clean up the mess when time permits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These seemed to have almost put a stop to the food/dish/cup/utensil throwing (for a day or two at a time at least).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has started again, with a new twist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now when she has eaten all that she wants, she will throw everything on the floor and promptly yell a variation of “KAYLEIGH”, “Kayleigh, uh oh”, or my favorite “Kayleigh, NO!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She will then keep repeating it until I address the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first time she did it I couldn’t help but laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know you have been there, when you know the last thing you should be doing is laughing at a disciplinary situation but you can’t help it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well yeah, now she does it and smiles looking for her daddy or me to start laughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She reminds me a lot of my sister in that regard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All she had to do was get my mom to laugh when she was in trouble and she was off the hook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kayleigh is taking after Aunt Shawna. ;)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">On the positive side, it seems she is finally gaining a sense of self which is one of her areas of delay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She is loving school. </span>Her vocabulary is picking up like crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is addressing her brother by name, which is something new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s so cute to hear her say “Ashton”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t ask her to say frog though….it totally sounds like another four letter word that begins with the letter “F”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>YIKES!</span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-90142636398881724352011-01-20T01:15:00.001-05:002011-01-20T01:18:48.904-05:00Oh The Joys<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">What do cows, baby birds and flies have in common?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vomit…I don’t do vomit, plain and simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hate it, despise it…I will do anything in my power not to myself, no matter how sick I feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The whole “puke, you will feel better” uhhh, NO … Alka-Seltzer, please?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s worse than your own?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cleaning someone else’s, yes that includes my flesh and blood. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may sound strange, but I would much rather clean up anything else the kids can possibly come up with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do realize that this aversion may stem from the childhood trauma of having to clean up my own puke when I was sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mom couldn’t handle cleaning it but I don’t blame her one bit….now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although, it seems as though she can clean the grandkids puke all day long…how fair is that? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";">Anyway, there are obviously times where I have to put on my “big girl panties” and deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last night was one of those times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who doesn’t love 2am puke clean up?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see, Ashton has a very VERY sensitive gag reflex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even the slightest runny nose causes him to have coughing fits which usually result in gagging and vomiting. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>FUN STUFF let me tell you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I enter his room at about 2am to find a half asleep little boy practically laying in the results of his latest coughing fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He takes me coming into his room as a cue that it’s time to get ready for school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He groggily exits his room and goes to sit in his chair in the kitchen, patiently waiting for his breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That at least gave me time to strip his bed and replace his sheets and blankets; then came the sponge bath, clean diaper and clean Pj’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a positive note, I am so glad he was able to fall back asleep fairly quickly once he realized it wasn’t time for school yet. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";"><em>Dear Vomit, </em></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";"><em>Good Riddance!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope I don’t hear from you again for a very long time.</em></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";"><em>Up Yours,</em></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia", "serif";"><em>Brandi </em></span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-433639728632808742.post-43369956577925009612011-01-17T14:01:00.003-05:002011-01-17T14:12:33.324-05:00Me Time!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKQbiHF9Gd6HJ5lwPB8R5BXm1wy-ZQJrptwAmFAfxUIaQg-qhAFXpydQBHW1_ng7PXjAPcb_cSEsXTt-2EOJ5SfLMNIq_9P-GJc-Zjde2lXeUAPUnT7urAtqahno53VO1u4SykQ7_g4A-/s1600/3E7F833F.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzKQbiHF9Gd6HJ5lwPB8R5BXm1wy-ZQJrptwAmFAfxUIaQg-qhAFXpydQBHW1_ng7PXjAPcb_cSEsXTt-2EOJ5SfLMNIq_9P-GJc-Zjde2lXeUAPUnT7urAtqahno53VO1u4SykQ7_g4A-/s1600/3E7F833F.jpg" /></span></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">After a week of non-snowy snow days, broken routines, grumpy children, a traffic ticket and stress all around;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am ready to start my week fresh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I would like to petition that winter be over this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who would I take that up with?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am done with ice, snow and cancelled school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last week made me realize a huge change that I need in my life, STAT!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Every parent knows how hard it is to get that coveted “time”, when you have kids constantly demanding every last ounce of your time and undivided attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By time . . . I’m talking about rejuvenation time, quiet time, alone time, personal time, self-care time . . . “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">ME-TIME”</b>!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have recently decided that I need to start having “me-time”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><s>God, that sounds so selfish.</s><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hate to admit it, but there are days I don’t even get a freaking shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone needs “me-time”, I am not going to mope and get all emotional or feel guilty for not spending every last second with my children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am going to accept any offers to watch the children from their father or any other competent caring creature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if I am just sitting alone in my bathtub soaking in the warm bubbly water with a good book, by God I am getting some “me-time”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>Brandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02322475222253976563noreply@blogger.com4