A 1st grade graduation present

Yes, I still have to finish the much-belated-long-awaited post about Ash’s birthday party.  Ditto for my medical update, and the bit about his CSE meeting, and, well, a bunch of other stuff.  The thing is, I’m trying to pack, and those updates take longer than I really aught to spend right now.  Trust me, packing isn’t what I’d rather be doing, context aside.  So, in the meantime, you get another quicky post.  It’s a quicky post about my big boy….seven years old, with his 8th tooth wiggly (he wants it to come out NOW so we can warn the Tooth Fairy about the move), and 2nd grade on the horizon in a whole new school.  My big boy, who mastered buttons (before snaps?!), who has started eating peanut butter sandwiches (and who will consume an entire apple, as long as it is cut into four pieces — they can be any shape, but it has to be four), and who thinks it’s silly that I can’t always remember that the puzzle he won at his school carnival has a shape technically called a stellated rhombic dodecahedron.  My big boy, who in the middle of all this chaotic limbo has grown into wanting to sleep with his knight light on, and wanting me to snuggle him to sleep in his castle bed in the first place, “For comfort.”

Did you catch the bit about how he’s moving on to the 2nd grade?  Good, because that’s the context of this post.  Ash did it!  He graduated from another grade, while in an integrated program, in the first try, for the second time!  I am so proud of him!!  And, because I have friends that are lovable dorks and who notice my inquiries to other friends into the existence of coupons which would help me get him certain things as a graduation present, sometimes those graduation presents actually come from someone else.  Someone else who needs to be tackled by the child they blame their impulse on.  *cough*

Ash opens the box.  Not so long ago, he might have had trouble getting to that point before he had finished examining the box.

Ash checks out his new dragon.  He likes that it’s so soft, as well as that it’s shiny and green with glittery gold parts.

Ash notices the strap-on wings.  Build-a-Bear probably did things that way because most of their animals get dressed in little outfits, but since we’re us, Ash learned the word ‘prosthetic’.  Of course, he immediately thought that we should bring his new dragon to the zoo to show the prosthetic wings to the zookeepers and suggest something similar for the one-winged birds that they take care of.  If they are unconvinced, he will make them watch the How To Train Your Dragon movie with him, where, of course, another dragon flies again with the help of a prosthetic half-tail.

Ash is pretty proud of his idea.

Now Ash wants to know about the pendant-style tag on a gold cord around the dragon’s neck.  The tag notes that this is a limited edition critter in honor of The Year of the Dragon, (and features what Steffan would like to note is a horrible rendition of even the simplified form of the Chinese character for ‘dragon’).  I explain.  Ash points out — oh, I’m so proud! — that this does not look like a Chinese dragon, and wants to know if perhaps the explanation was that it was adopted by a Chinese dragon family.

Ash reassures his new dragon that this is the last time he will have to be adopted, because now he is part of OUR family.

Ash is pleased to get confirmation of this notion from both Mommy and Daddy.

“And you will help the rest of my dragon family guard my castle at night so I can be safe to go on dream dates with Mommy.”

It occurs to Ash to ask whether I have to pack up his dragons for the move yet, or if they can continue guarding his castle.

Oh.  Oh, it’s ok.

Whew!  That’s a relief.

He wasn’t so sure about that.

Now that we’re all feeling secure, Ash decides it’s time to name his new dragon.

“The first part of your name is like your color, and I think the last part is “full” because you are full of shiny green….your name is GREENFUL!”

Ash thinks it’s pretty darn cool that he got Greenful BECAUSE HE GRADUATED FROM 1ST GRADE.

It’s also worth giggling over.  Of course, pretty much everything is worth giggling over.

Ash shortly discovers that Greenful doesn’t just like to cuddle and giggle and prove that he can fly, but that he also likes to fly INTO people and gently bonk their heads with his own, just like he used to as a baby, as a way of introducing himself.  Greenful earns the nickname “Bonk”….not bad for someone who has been hanging out with us for less than an hour.

Attempts are made at two-way flight patterns for Bonk.

But for some reason, Bonk prefers flying at Ash.

Ok, this time he’s ready and waiting for it.

GOTCHA!!!

Welcome to the family, Greenful aka Bonk.  You’ll find lots of love here.  Thank you, Steve, for sending him to us….at Ollie’s insistence or otherwise. ;-)

Happy Father’s Day 2012

Happy Father’s Day to ALL the true Daddies I know, including surrogate daddies, foster daddies, adoptive daddies, step-daddies, would’ve-been-daddies, trying-to-be-daddies, daddies-in-the-making (pregnancy totally counts, if you’re both taking the right care), daddies who lost their children, daddies lost *by* their children, critter-daddies, in-loco-parentis daddies, fathering spirits, single moms and gay moms who act as daddy too, and whichever other varieties I inevitably forgot while writing this.  HUGE bonus points go special needs daddies.  Bonus points also go to daddies who are true, rockin’ daddies, despite having had only varying degrees of negative example, from their own fathers.

Most of all, happy Father’s Day to Steffan, that wonderful brand of Daddy who earns the title and still always strives to do more and better with it!

If you keep clicking on this photo until you see it at the largest size I could load here, you won't lose QUITE as many of the cute details.

Every year, I try to make Steffan a collage for Father’s Day, of photos of him and Ash that have been taken since the LAST Father’s Day. (You can see a few previous ones — the first three, actually — HERE.  Unfortunately, there are some years for which the creation or retrieval of said collages was/is made more difficult by computer issues.)  I consider it a very good thing that it’s always hard to choose only as many as will fit. I also try to include a quote at the bottom which reflects something he’s heard a lot of, that year.

Ash and I are so blessed to have Steffan as his Daddy! I can’t imagine doing this without him, or with anyone else.

What mother wouldn’t want to hear this?

I had posted THIS conversation with Ash to FaceBook, and it lead to a friend joking that Ash aught to marry her daughter and have brilliant children who like to do lots and lots of homework.  That lead to my noting that he does aspire to find his “love match”, get married and become a Daddy when he grows up.  That lead to the following comment of hers, which just made my day:

“As amazing and awesome as he is, how could he not aspire to that?!?!?! :) I, for one, would be honored if, someday, someone so incredible chose to pursue my daughter… and I hope I’m raising her to understand that she should be too! :)

What mother wouldn’t love hearing that about her son?  Well….ok, what mother who doesn’t want to keep her son a little boy following close at her heels forever, whether or not he’s capable of more, wouldn’t want to hear it?  (Switch to the cliché-for-a-reason of overprotective Daddies and their little girls, if you like.)  And of course, I’m not just any Mommy, and Ash isn’t just any son.  Sadly, it is also probably relevant to note — in case you didn’t infer it from how the quote was written — that the friend’s daughter in question is “just any”, in the sense that she is neuro-typical.  It already hit me hard when romantic prospects were casually laughed about in only the best-natured of ways, when the future partner for Ash that was speculated about between glompings was also a special-needs child.  There is a whole ‘nother edge to it when you’re hearing it like this….when you’re hearing it from someone who knows that normally, eventually, how cute (in more than one respect) Ash is, is likely to be overshadowed by how different he is, how challenging things are for and with him.  I mean, it’s only natural for me to feel that he deserves for the whole world to love him, and that such will be true even when it comes to romantic love (if it turns out that that’s indeed in his matured nature, and in his future — a doubly loaded question with Autism).  I’m me, though, and we’ve been over that.  I also know, though, that it’s not in everyone’s nature.  In fact, it’s not in a LOT of people’s natures, especially if it’s not already more than the typical concern for their own children.

So thank you, Julia.  Thank you for not being most people, and for trying to raise your daughter to not be most people.  The world really can’t get enough of people like you, because the world really does have a lot of people….overlooked, misunderstood people….as incredible as my son.

The photo valentine I made in 2009, playing up to what a heartbreaker Ash had always been and still was, and amused by the fact that "aloof" is not really him at all.

Unexpectedly excited to move into another rental

One of the many things which has been keeping me….occupied….is the bit where my family has to move this summer.  Our lease was up for renewal at the end of June, and our landlords wanted to not only raise our rent again, but to make us pay for water — the only utility currently covered under our lease.  See, when our water heated (not maintained since it was installed in the mid-80′s) recently broke and flooded our living room (“Are you sure you did not spill a bucket of water?” – landlady), they noticed that the water bill for this place was high.  Of course, they continued to overlook the fact that we’ve been telling them about multiple leaky faucets for four years.  Starting to get the picture?  Yeah, well….even if we weren’t still working on paying off our medical debt, this place….and those landlords….wouldn’t be worth paying even more.  I’ll spare you some empathy nightmares about things like mildewy carpeting laid directly over cracked concrete foundations, and kitchen drawers made out of cardboard (because unlike the wooden ones originally in there, the cardboard ones made at home at least slide in and out), and not bother going much further into that part of the story.

The trouble — well, the first trouble — of course, was finding somewhere to move TO.  Care of the aforementioned medical debt, our credit is still terrible and our savings wouldn’t buy a day’s groceries, so we’re not exactly in the position to buy a house yet.  As much as we’d hoped to not have to move again until it was into a place of our own, we were going to be stuck with at least one more rental.  The usual “fun” of having to rental-hunt was even more of a blast this time around, though, because apparently in the four years since we had to do it, the rental listings — across multiple sites — have been overtaken by scammers.  No, I will not drive by the outside of a house, ignore the realtor signs, fall in love with the outside, take your word for the fact that I’ll fall in love with the inside, send you a ton of personal information and money, and trust that you will send me the lease and the keys….all because you’re a God-fearing Christian working for some church/social service/educational program somewhere in Africa.  I got back many variations on that theme.  I also got some identically worded ones to the effect of, “I’m sorry for not replying sooner!  We thought we had the place leased, but the renter backed out at the last minute, so now we’re trying to get it leased ASAP.  You were the second to reply to the listing.  Now, I’m not going to answer any questions about the place until after I know you’re seriously interested in it, and I’m not even going to give you a vague idea of where it is.  Every time we have done that, the house was broken into.  So, please fill out this remarkably in-depth renter survey — which includes all your financial information, but don’t worry, we don’t actually care about your credit — and then after that, we’ll tell you where the house is, and arrange a viewing.”  Riiiiiigjht.  Nothing fishy there, either.  Point of fact, of the first 30 rental listings that were even potentially worth my responding to, 28 of them turned out to be scams, one was a real listing but wasn’t as advertised, and one just never got back to me.  The hunt continued in that vein, but after that I gave up counting.  Things were not looking good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While all this was going on, some local friends of ours were dealing with their own problem.  About two years ago they’d bought this fairly nice house and started fixing it up, but maybe six months ago the dad in the family got a job transfer opportunity he couldn’t turn down….in another state.  The mom and kids stuck it out here so that the kids could finish their school year, but in the meantime the family was split.  The dad was renting a whole house in the new state so that the family would have some place to all move into together ASAP, but it’s not like they’d counted on selling the house here, yet, or were prepared to do so even if it was anywhere close to a seller’s market.  They also didn’t want to be long-distance landlords to strangers, OR leave their property vacant for years.

If there’s music playing in your head….a sort of semi-conscious soundtrack accompanying the reading of this post….this is about where the tone of the music distinctly changes.

Yep — they offered to let us rent their house!  Granted, we can’t pay them as much as they are paying for their mortgage each month, but since right now they are paying for two houses and not getting ANY of that back in rent, they’ll still be a good bit ahead of where they are.  They get to leave their property in the hands of people they trust, and it frees them to bring their family back together.  If we hadn’t agreed to take their place, they were going to have to spend at least another year separated when they thought their time apart was possibly almost over.  The thought of that was intolerable, and, again, the alternate non-us alternatives were other kinds of exceedingly bad ideas.

We get to live in a much bigger and nicer property than our current one, for about $200 less per month than we’d be paying here if we renewed the lease here again.  We can quite possibly live here until we’re ready to buy our own home, assuming we don’t buy this place off of them once we’re in the position to do so.  We get landlords who are friends instead of slumlords.  (And they do have a set of their own parents local to here, to potentially serve and landlord-y middle-men if needed for arrangements in emergencies.)  We get to transition Ash into a new home that is at least familiar to him already, since he has played there a number of times.  We get to NOT have to hunt for rentals any more — a point of considerable note, since we’d found NO other viable options, and time was running out.  The new house is no further from Steffan’s workplace, although the commute will get slightly longer in the winter just because he’ll be taking a less direct route to spare our 4-wheel-drive-less car the worst hills.  The new house is only slightly further from a collective of grocery stores, hardware stores, etc., than our current one is.  We’ll no longer be right next to a park/playground and within-walking-distance-for-me-on-a-good-day of a library branch, but that makes less of a difference now that Ash is in school, and I’m not making near-daily use of both, all year long.  Also, whereas it used to only be inconvenient living next to a park on a few holidays and a smattering of random occasions throughout the year when people had some other excuse to party outside, the habits of our neighbors have been getting worse and worse.  This school year the spacial challenges of a kid with curb-to-curb busing on his IEP and a residence at the end of a dead-end-street (something we never thought of anything but the advantages of, before school busing snaffoos and flopped lawn sale attempts) were complicated further on a regular basis by a ridiculous number of cars parking illegally in the cul-de-sac at the end of the street — you know, the spot ANY vehicle not pulling into driveways not their own, let alone something the size of even a small school bus, needed for turning around.  This spring, and no doubt we can look forward to this into the summer, there has been a loud party going on in the park every Friday, Saturday and Sunday practically all day and night….and here and there, on other week-days as well.  So….no, we won’t really miss it quite the way we might once have expected.  Also, although we don’t know where Ash will be placed (it’s not like he goes to the school he’s zoned for, right now), there is a very good chance that his school will be within-walking-distance-on-a-good-day-for-me from home.  We’ll still have the curb-to-curb busing on his IEP because of Steffan’s variable schedule and my mobility issues, but it does improve the chances of, on those rare occasions when Ash gets really sick or something and needs to be picked up from school early, not needing to call Steffan at work, have him try and arrange for another manager to cover for him, have him drive to get Ash and bring him home, etc.  I also would have an easier time being able to volunteer / chaperone for his class, because I wouldn’t necessarily have to rely on Steffan being able to get the day off so that he could be the transportation.  There’s more about the school issue, below.  Eniways…

Both families get the satisfaction of helping the other out.  It works out pretty well for all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I won’t say that theirs is our dream house, but it’s a whole lot closer to it than the rental we’re in now.  We’ll probably have at least twice the useful space, for a start.  Part of that is due to the difference in square footage, part of that from the layout, and part from the fact that they have forced-air whereas this place has electric baseboard heaters….so we’ll only have to dodge little grates here and there, as opposed to losing entire walls because nothing can block the heaters, or even safely get too close to them without melting.  Their single-family is a “split level” deal.  If you come in the front door, the floor you’re on has the kitchen, dining room and living room, arranged in a rough sort of doughnut, so there’s pretty good visibility from one area to the next.  The kitchen has an impressive amount of cabinet space.  The living room is a fair bit smaller than the one we have now, but it won’t matter as much as it would otherwise, because we won’t have to use the living room for combined den space, play/therapy/homework space AND office/computer space.  If you go up a couple of steps, there’s a hall off of which are three bedrooms and the full bath.  The master bedroom will be ours.  One of the others will be Ash’s bedroom.  The third will turn into the office for all our computer-related things, our files, etc.  That one will probably be locked when not in use by one of the grown-ups, since Ash knows he’s not allowed to use the grown-ups’ technology unsupervised, and he usually has the self-control to follow the rules, but…  the play/therapy zone.  (Ash’s inflatable walled trampoline is dead again, so we’re debating whether we should get an actual mini-trampoline, and then get something like this — preferably while it’s still on uber-sale — for his ball pit.  Switching the use of one item back and forth would be nice to not have to do any more, and each of these separate things together would not take up THAT much more space than one giant inflatable walled bouncer.  Also, they’d be easier to stash away for temporary use of the space for other things, they won’t take several hours to inflate, and they aught to be harder to break constantly via hard-to-find leaks.  Ash doesn’t use the inflatable walls of his bounce-trampoline as much anymore for sideways crashing and for flipping over the sides, and since they always deflate almost immediately, it’s not like they are actually providing any safety over a wall-less bouncing surface. That ball pit thing should be compatible with his tunnel and his sensory hide-out tent….as in, they could be connected if we wanted them to be.  Admittedly it would be harder to bounce or to play in the balls WITH another kid at the same time, but that happens pretty rarely anyway, relative to his use of these things alone.  Also in this room, we’d put his book and toy shelves, his desk for arts and crafts, the ceiling-rig swing chair for spinning, etc.)

Oh, and their bathtub isn’t a comfort-molded hydrotherapy deal or anything, but it IS deep enough to actually soak in….again, a big step up from what we have currently, and a very happy thought since my 30-something little old lady’s body benefits greatly from soaks.

If you go down a few steps instead, you come to….well ok, here’s where I don’t have the layout totally straight in my head yet.  At one point there’s a half bath.  There’s a door that leads to the garage.  It’s a single-car garage, which is what we have now.  (Ours here acts primarily as storage space, as the workout zone, as well as a spot for the messier crafty projects, such as making castle beds.)  There’s a semi-finished basement split into two areas, one of which will hold our exercise equipment our computer/office area, and the other of which will hold the shelves for the grown-up library (we need to acquire a comfy chair and a small end table), with space in the middle that will get used for an air mattress for the occasional guest that would prefer not to be awakened by Ash bouncing into our living room and on top of them at 6am.  There’s another offshoot into a utility room where the water heater is, and the hook-up for our washer and dryer (conveniently, the only appliances they are taking with them are the only appliances we own).  Our chest freezer will probably end up in that space, too.  There’s also a fourth bedroom with a 3/4 bath directly off of it (shower stall, but no tub), that will end up turning into our studio space.

NOTE: Upon further reflection when we were just there for a birthday party, we don’t think that we can fit both the den space and the play/therapy/homework space in the living room.  So, we’ll have to make the living room just den space with a corner for Ash’s homework/project desk and a mini computer desk for him, and move his play/therapy area into the 3rd bedroom  up there, instead of making that our office.  That forces us to move our office downstairs, probably into the space we’d thought to use for the exercise stuff, and once again have THAT stuff set up in the garage.  I regret losing the notion of having our workout stuff in a more temperature-controlled area, and the notion of having no particular reason, for years to come, for Ash to ever have to go below living room level.  On the other hand, I like the idea of finally having our den space separated from the play/therapy zone.  I mean, sure, Ash will use the den space as well.  BUT, the living room won’t have to look like a grown-up space above a certain number of feet from the floor, and an aesthetically chaotic kiddie zone below that.  It will be far more relaxing for me.

I probably have the proportions wrong -- and left out details here and there -- but this is roughly the layout of the entry floor. The blue things are furniture we'd need to acquire somehow, to best use the space. In the alcove next to the coat closet, we should put some kind of low shoe shelving. We'll probably put our key hooks and maybe a few other hooks for hanging umbrellas, hats and scarves, on the wall above it. Against the back of the couch, we should create a sort of low wall of shelving. There would be slots for Ash's backpack and such, to hold the dictionary and things he uses for his homework, and probably some bins for holding seasonal toys that would be used outside but wouldn't stay out there. You know....here a bin of bubble stuff and sidewalk chalk, there a bin of water play things, over there a spot for helmets and pads. We also need a small wooden homework/computer desk and chair for Ash. We'll probably still use the little folding one in his play area, for doing crafty things on. It's great because you can change the angle of the top to either be flat or tilted, but the surface isn't big enough for him to, say, have the paper he's writing on, AND an open dictionary next to it -- and of course if you're changing the angle all the time, it doesn't work as a "station" for keeping the netbook he inherited from his "pretend big sister" for his own, custom-set-up use. Really, it could just be a table of the right size. There's a heating vent in the area, so we have to NOT block it.

The layout is going to take some getting used to, because it’s a very different division of space from what we’ve been living with since….well, more or less since the place we were in the process of moving into, when I had Ash.  (Well, we were SUPPOSED to still have two months!)  For the past four years in this last rental, almost all awake-time has been spent in one area of the house, because the living room was a den space, a play/homework/therapy space and an office space in one, and the eat-in kitchen was wide open to the living room, which the half bathroom and laundry area were also off of.  We’d head upstairs for baths and bedtime, but aside from that, most of the day, if at home, was spent moving together from one area of a single large space, to another.  I think this change could be good for us, organizationally, and I think it’ll be a nice change, aesthetically.  I think it’s coming at a good time, since Ash is only recently more able to navigate from one room to another and back again, with only minimal supervision (at least on most days).  Having the bedrooms as an offshoot from the communal living space instead of as their own private floor will feel a bit odd for a while, but probably won’t make as much difference as it feels like it will, because of things like the fact that side-to-side sound insulation tends to be better than up-down sound insulation, and because of the fact that we’re not giving up use of door locks.  Well in any event, it’s what is going to happen, so we’d best get used to it!

There are hardwood floors.  They are worn down hardwood floors, but I hardly care.  Oh, how we’ve missed wood floors, in our four years here with this horrible, semi-shag, 70′s brown, wall-to-wall carpeting!  Wood floors are so much easier and faster to keep clean and sanitary, and they are so much healthier for Steffan’s asthma.  Well ok, below living room level there are tile floors, but that’s still way breathing-friendlier than carpeting.

There’s a smallish front yard, a driveway that’s possibly two cars deep and three cars wide (nicer than our one-wide-but-three-deep driveway here, when it comes to unavoidable shoveling in the winter), a back porch, and a rather nice and oh-so-helpfully-mostly-FLAT back yard space.  We’re inheriting some fencing to help us enclose the back, since our yard here — which we enclosed via a rather patchwork combination of fencing types — is smaller.  We might use the wooden snow-fencing sections of our current fencing to create a visual border around the front yard that we can plant some partial-shade flowering vines on, and possibly use the plastic mesh parts of it to section off areas of the back yard space so as to, say, keep balls from being kicked into the garden zone.  We’ll probably do our gardening closer to the house in the back yard, both because there’s more sun there and because it aught to be easier to run a hose from wherever the spigot back there is bound to be.  We’re thinking of trying some flowers, as well as some herbs, fruits and vegetables.  I’d like to take our black raspberry bushes with us and plant them along one side — I’m hoping the transplant will go decently well, since the move this time should happen pretty much after they are done bearing fruit, so they aught to be starting to go dormant and can be cut down first.  I whimper at the thought of losing the bushes, because it took three years to start getting an awesome harvest from them, last time.  I’m also thinking of trying the trick where you staple weed fabric to the bottom of a wood pallet and then fill it with topsoil, to create a kind of self-contained gardening space for small plants in rows….and then letting strawberry plans get freely runner-happy within that.  I hear if you attach copper ribbon around the outside, it keeps slugs out.  Further towards the back of the yard, where there are more trees and shade, we can put the swing-set with its various attachments (sometimes I unhook a swing or two and hang a hammock or a pull-up bar or a board swing) and the sandbox.  If we ever nab one of those adjustable basketball hoops for Ash, we can put that there, too.  That leaves the middle of the yard for open space for running around, kicking balls, playing frisbee, setting up the kiddie pool or the sprinkler, etc.  There’s a shed in one back corner of the yard, too, in which we can keep the mower (we need a new one of those too, unfortunately….Steffan is eyeballing an electric model, because he doesn’t want to go with gas, but our purely-human-powered reel mower just isn’t going to….ha ha….cut it), the gardening tools, the pool and such when they are off-season, the rake, etc.  We wouldn’t want to put the snow shovels all the way out there, but the rest of it should be fine, and that’s less clutter in the multi-use garage.

The fact that the house is green doesn't hurt either. Oh yeah, and they are taking their big grill with them of course, but we got ourselves a $20 one that should do just fine, to replace the one we had that was mostly rusted through already when I rescued it from a curb a few years back. Hooray for being able to grill again! I don't know if they are taking their picnic table with them or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The family that owns the house will be moving out during the first week in July.  That being the case, we had to get our current landlords to extend our lease THROUGH July.  Blessedly, their lack of thoroughness served us well for once, and they overlooked the part of the original lease which says that if we need a month-by-month lease renewal, we have to pay rent-and-a-half for those months….they just signed off on changing the end date of the current lease.  Ok, technically they could’ve done that because we gave them advanced warning, we’ve been here for four years already, and they decided to be nice.  There is far less precedent for that kind of behavior, however, than there is for them simply borking the job.  Eniways, the plan is for the other family to move out of the house during the first part of the week, and then for the dad to try coming back to clean up after them and to finish off necessary minor fixits before we move in, during the latter part of the week.  He’s not going to finish any major renovations or anything, but there are things like pulling up the old carpet and carpet staples from one of the bedrooms that hadn’t had the hardwood revealed yet, replacing two broken screens, and reconnecting the wiring that would allow us to have cable internet, because we’re not budgeting for FIOS and since the house was set up for FIOS, it can’t get DSL.  We’ll also finish any walk-through type things we aught to do, relating to those little details of a household that are useful to be aware of.

We’ll also come in around this time and start doing things like installing our fencing, transplanting berry bushes, and repainting the bedrooms.  We’re not going to invest in repainting everything, although they’d let us, but the bedrooms….yes.  For one thing, the two kids’ bedrooms upstairs are purple, and the one downstairs is a sort of lime green, and neither of those colors are quire relaxing enough on a wall for our needs.  We’ll probably make the one downstairs — the one that’s to be the studio — white, just to reflect light better.  The bedroom that’ll be Ash’s room will become light blue with a border of dark blue accented by glow-stars.  That’s what he wants, and played a part in his incentive to process the coming transition.  The bedroom that’ll be the play/therapy room will probably be plain white or pale blue, depending on what ends up making the most sense in terms of buying paint.  The master bedroom is currently painted white, so we don’t more-or-less-NEED to repaint it the way we do the purple and bright green rooms, but I’m so tired of the “rental-neutral” color scheme since that’s all we EVER lived with since getting the first place of our own over a decade ago….where everything is off-white with brown trim….that I think I’ve finally earned a bedroom I can paint marbled shades of pale sage and mossy greens.

Eniways, we’ll end up with 2-3 weeks to bring things over in small installments when we’re going over to the house to work on things, anyway.  I’d love to say that we can bring over a carload almost every day and have a whole lot less to do and need a smaller Penske truck to fit it on on the big moving day, but that probably doesn’t balance out against the gas cost of making that many extra trips, as much as we’d like for it to.  We’ll plan our big move — with the moving truck, and actually changing addresses — for the weekend of the 21st-22nd.  The aim will be to get the rest of the household shifted over, get everything into at least the right room, and get the major things set up.  With some things — like Ash’s castle bed — we’ll have no choice but to deal with take-down, move-over, and set-up-again all during that one day.  This leaves us slots around Steffan’s work schedule, during the last week of the month, to also come back here and do the final deep-cleaning, repainting of window trims that had paint ripped off by tape from having to seal plastic over the windows all winter, etc., before our lease here runs out.  We’d technically be in the new house for a week before the new lease would kick in for August, but that’s not a huge deal since we’re orchestrating all this with friends, and we can have the utilities and services transferred over whenever (or as close to whenever as we can get such things scheduled).  It will be quite a nice change to actually have a chance to clean and make hardware changes and such to a new place BEFORE moving into it, as well as to not have to deep-clean an old place while trying to move out of it.

It’ll be more complicated a process than simply settling our old things into a new place, of course.  Having just paid for a move and a moving truck and the painting supplies needed before rooms are full of stuff, it’ll be a while, for budget reasons if not also opportunity ones, before we can get all the new hardware, bits of furniture and shelving, etc, that we need to adapt and best make use of the difference in space (and in some cases, accommodate Ash’s changing needs).  I think we can make it work, though, and….with a little time….work pretty well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now…

The biggest trick in all this, is that their house is in a suburb of the city we live in now, and that means a different school district.  Now, thankfully — and otherwise, we could not have responsibly gone with this plan, no matter the financial and spacial benefits — it’s another GOOD district for SpecialEd, with some comparable integrated programs and, as it happens, a larger budget.  We’re telling ourselves that all available evidence suggests the transition will be a positive one.  All the same, even if the new program meets or exceeds all of our expectations and hopes, there is the element of change to deal with.  Although Ash finished his conscious acceptance of the household move within a few hours of being told outright about it (we’d been building up to it for a while, as well)….once he knew it was a house he was already comfortable in, that THERE he could have his castle in a blue bedroom with glow-stars, and THERE we could, although we’d still wait for home-ownership for furrier pets, at least start him off by getting him a fish….the processing still took its toll, and we have been waiting to give that more time to sink in, before pointing out that he’ll also have to switch schools.  We’d like to think that the emotional transition won’t be as rough as it could be.  Ash has thus far lived in three houses over the course of his life, but only one within the past 4 years.  He has, on the other hand, already been in 3 schools over the past two years, because his (2 month long, half-day, special needs) pre-K summer program was in one school, his integrated K & 1st grade classrooms have been in another school, and the integrated summer program that he was in last year, was held in a third.  He’ll remember everything about and miss elements of and people in his old school, more than he’ll be upset about or shocked by getting to experience a new one.  Unfortunately, he will be starting from scratch when it comes to motor planning, sensory filtering, and his navigation of the school at large.  Now, his current program groups SpecialEd teachers, available classroom aids, and therapists by every two grades, so next year, even at the same school, he would’ve had a different GenEd teacher, a different SpecEd teacher, different aids in the room whether they were assigned to him or not, and a different ST, OT and PT.  (Granted, he ended up with a different Spec Ed teacher and only one of the same therapists between K & !st, anyway, just because of how things played out with kids who stayed behind, kids who graded-up, etc.)  His “specials” teachers — music, art, gym and library — might or might not have changed.  Some classmates would already have been familiar to him, the school administration would already have been familiar to him, and the general population of the school as a background to his day would already have been familiar to him, but the core of his “team” would have changed anyway.  I’d like to think he can maintain a friendship with some of the classmates he’ll be leaving behind, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

We have his major major majorly important CSE meeting tomorrow afternoon.  There are going to be a HUGE number of people there:  myself and Steffan (until he has to leave for the end of Ash’s school day….which is also the first day back after a Memorial Day extended nearly-whole-week-off since they didn’t have any snow days this year, so think good thoughts for a first day back that pretty much everyone who regularly works with him, will be missing the end of), Ash’s GenEd teacher, his SpecEd teacher, his ST, his OT, his PT, his principal, one of his vice-principals, two school psychologists, a Special Education Liason, and by her own request, the assistant to the Director of Special Education for the district.  Issues debated will include an aid, ESY, playground accommodations, SAD therapy accommodation, therapy services, other tools, supplies and accommodations in general, and curriculum tweaks, in terms of both his challenges and his strengths, and also, of course, his IEP goals.  Ash’s SpecEd teacher is hopeful that learning about the transfer will make them more likely to honor his needs without the budget-based reserves that come with the expectation of having to PAY for what they agree his needs are.  Of course, we need lots of prayers not just that this CSE meeting goes splendidly, but also that it transfers smoothly over to the new school system (for which I also have to update his 20-page profile).

One of the trickiest of the tricky things is that logistics could interfere with even the smoothest and most acquiescing of CSE meetings and school system transfers, in terms of summer programming this summer.  The thing of it is that we’ll be moving, and Ash will be shifting between school systems, part-way through the summer, and probably part-way through any given summer program.  Things are further complicated by the fact that he needs to be bussed.  All things considered, we could use some extra, ESY-this-summer-specific prayers, too, because on top of all the usual reasons why summer programming is a very good idea for Ash, and ESY summer programming an even better one….orchestrating a move when he’s never out of the house, adds another layer of oh-dear-God entirely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that, my friends, is the long and the longer yet actually shorter than it could be, of it.  Please light a mental candle, make a wish, think good thoughts, pray, or whatever your goodwill variant is.  All of this seems incredibly lucky, but we still need a lot of good luck to get through it well.

Easter 2012

Last year Easter was ON Ash’s birthday, and Steffan still wasn’t allowed to take the day off.  I had staged an egg hunt in the living room (see photo HERE), and that was about that, for what we could do for the holiday.  This year, Steffan has a boss that tries harder to remember — and accommodate — the fact that my husband is a person with a life and a family, and not just a hard worker in a cruddy job.  (♪♫ And the choirs of angels sing! ♫♪)  Despite the fact that April currently has more events, occasions, appointments and meetings than days, Steffan has had his work schedule arranged in a dysfunctional way that actually allows him to have the time off he needs for them, instead of a dysfunctional way that doesn’t.  This is a considerable relief, as well as cause for celebration!!  (I mean, Steffan even manages to have a day off for the family birthday party, for Ash’s actual birthday, AND for Ash’s birthday party!)  And after a day when Ash had a show to do, followed by an Endocrinologist appointment for me, followed by a doctor’s appointment for him….following a day when a doctor’s appointment for him was followed by a Rheumatologist appointment for me and then his show….a day off together that was only being spent on Easter, was going to come as a celebratory relief anyway!

There was another photo in which Ash's new hat wasn't falling over his eyes, but he happened to have his arms outstretched in a "Ta Da" gesture, and it looked like he was trying to crucify himself. Just....no.

Steffan is Cathoic, so Easter Sunday started with church.  Now, normally if Ash and I accompany Steffan to church, it’s to a special GLBT & Friends mass held in the evening.  That mass has the benefit of being smaller, being quieter, being more personal and informal, and being entirely comprised of people that are so happy we’re willing to let them get to know our son, and let him get to know them, that they are more than happy to be extra understanding of his special needs.  (It’s quite sad that that’s the way it is….but that’s the way it has been.)  This, though….this was a standing-room-only, 9am Easter Morning, gospel-style mass.  Honestly, Ash held up pretty well.  It might actually have helped that, with nowhere else to fit, we ended up being herded into the front pew, where few people automatically go no matter how friendly the church.  Being in the front put us closer to the loud music, but it did allow him to watch the amusing antics of the man at the piano, as well as randomly get smiled, winked and waved at by the Pastor, as well as a member of the choir that knew us.

I have to say, too, that I am ever impressed by this church.  I mean, it’s not every Roman Catholic church that a spiritually eclectic woman can show up at on a High Holy Day, and not feel offended by or at least uncomfortable with a regrettable chunk of the proceedings.  I mean, the Pastor is such an avid and outspoken supporter of….well, the same kinds of things we are….that we sometimes find ourselves wondering how he has managed to not get stomped on by Vatican hierarchy, yet.  Eniways, there were only two bits that made me twitch a little, instead of cheer.  One was a direct bit of required liturgy straight from Paul, in which the Jewish tradition of Passover was used as a metaphor for purging yourself of the sinfulness of Judaism.  Paul’s so good at that kind of thing.  The other was a line from the homily in which it was noted that eggs have been a symbol of Easter for hundreds of years, and went on from there….but the part of me that knows about things like “pagan” traditions older than Christianity, and Eostre, and eggs coming into things as a fertility springtime symbol….well, it got a bit fidgety, and wished that among the many religions the Pastor made a point of including in his goodwill, he’d thought to include those “New Age” ones that are actually really, really Old Age.  Ahh well.  It’s a learning process, at at least his mind is far more open to lessons, than most.

Overall, since Ash handled things well, it turned out to be an enjoyable Mass.  One cute moment thrown in was when the Pastor surprised a child congregant with a 4th birthday cake, and having everyone sing the birthday song to him.  (He also snuck over to Ash afterwards, and whispered to him about how he knew HIS birthday was coming up soon, too, and he hoped to be able to do something to celebrate it.  As it happens, our annual mass family birthday party thing is this coming Sunday, which is also the GLBT & Friends Anniversary Mass, so the Pastor, as well as some of our friends from that, are probably going to stop by the party on the way there.)  Another highlight was watching the baby who got Baptized — a baby who looooooooved bathtime, and considered water dribbled on his head to be close enough to provoke a lot of giddy arm-waving, drooling grins, and hiccupy giggles….also a baby who apparently passes out cold, mid-giggle, several seconds after bathtime is over.  ;-)   It was pretty adorable.  And of course, Ash loved getting to wear his own special outfit that let him be dressed-up like the grown-ups.  Steffan and I both wore burgundy-and-black-based dressy stuff, so that we’d match Ash, and we drew a lot of attention that Ash quite enjoyed.

There was an egg hunt for the kids after the Mass, but it just involved some eggs scattered loosely over a small patch of lawn, and by the time we’d spent a few minutes taking the pictures Ash wanted, all the eggs had been collected.  Excess candy was offered to us for Ash, but it’s not really a candy thing for him, it’s an issue of the fun of the hunt, so we thanked them and told both them and him that I’d just give him an Easter Egg hunt in our yard.  He wanted to change into a bunny for the egg hunt anyway.

I didn't get around to making face paints, so I just used some of my eyeliner to give him a bunny nose and whiskers. His re-used froggy Easter basket was still waiting, full of things like filled eggs, so we just did the hunt with empty eggs I had left over, glued together from broken ones, and a basket that the parent of another child in his class, had given out.

Doing the egg hunt in the front yard worked out rather well.  We got through one round of him finding the eggs after I hid them, and then N- the neighbor’s boy, and a young cousin of his, noticed us and came over.  Ash showed them the basket of eggs he had found, and they decided to get involved.  We spent the next hour or go getting into switched-up teams, and taking turns hiding the eggs and finding them, in different combinations.  Ash was re-introduced to the game of “Hot / Cold” during this activity.  Now, our front yard does not make for a very challenging egg hunt despite the need for mowing (and our back yard still has piles of deer droppings all over it), but everyone had a good time anyway.  In fact, N- later whispered to me, “You know, I did not think it would be so much fun to play the Easter Egg Hunt game.  I was just doing to to be nice to Ash.  But actually, it was a lot of fun!  I had a really good time doing that.”  Of course, as the mommy of a sensory kid, I also have to note with pride that Ash kept those ears-on-a-headband and that almost-face-paint on, the whole time.

He's just as giggly as a bunny as he is as a boy.

Ash's method of hiding eggs is to toss them around randomly. Then even he doesn't know where they are. ;-)

After we’d used up our steam for finding eggs, N- and his cousin wanted to know if Ash would like to come to the park with them and play “soccer” — which really meant taking turns trying to show off how far they could kick or throw a soccer ball.  That itself was amusing because N- in particular wanted to show off for Ash, but N- has only a smidge more athletic prowess than Ash does….and Ash doesn’t really have any.  Still, it all worked out well enough for them.  N- and his cousin were eventually ready to move on from there to the playground, still with Ash, but Ash was wearing out between his continued recovery and the excitement of the day, so I thanked them and excused us, so I could take him home to rest for a bit.

"Daddy, wake up! I'm pretending to be the Easter Bunny and I found and hid and found all the eggs, so now you have to see what I gave me!"

Easter goodies left under the Easter card that Ash had made the Easter Bunny.

After a bit of a breather, it was finally time to discover what the Easter Bunny had left him.  I’d covered the area with a blanket, earlier, because I knew if he got distracted by it before church, things would not go smoothly.  When the great unveiling occurred, Ash found that under the card that he’d made for the Easter Bunny (and mind you, I had just suggested making an Easter picture….it was Ash’s idea that it was meant to be a card to be left for the Easter Bunny — we’d never put much fuel into the EB myth, but he’d picked it up at school), was left a bunch of goodies for him.  The EB had filled his old froggy Easter basket that we’d left out.  There were Easter/Spring-y pencils, since he enjoys choosing between thematic pencils whenever he does his homework.  There were two brother-bunnies, both small and soft and otherwise identical, but one with blue fur, one with purple fur.  The EB must’ve heard about his interest in matching up his stuffed animals into likely genetic as well as emotional families.  There were a few shiny plastic eggs, one filled with a few sour-sugar-covered jellybeans to try (in a tiny ziplock bag, so they wouldn’t spill all over the floor when he opened the egg), one filled with a new red wiggle worm to replace the one that broke, and the rest filled with animal stickers of that variety where if you tilt them, the picture changes.  Ash can’t get enough of looking at animals, after all.  There were 3 small chocolate bunnies (he gets to eat half of one of them, if he first eats a significant quantity of something healthy he doesn’t normally consume a significant quantity of).  There was also one of those gel-and-air-filled sensory fidget squishies, shaped like a yellow chick, that had an LED ball inside it that flashes colors for 15 seconds or so, after you whack it.

There was also a DVD of “Pete’s Dragon” from our friend Jessica.  On top of that sat this year’s traditional bunny, which actually looks a bit like it might be the baby of the bunny featured in that linked post.  There was also a fabric flower with a bendy-stem, from us.  I’d thought of getting him a blue flower mylar balloon for Easter, since he enjoys them so much.  I’d also thought of getting him some manner of blue flower, for his school performance.  Since I didn’t have the opportunity to get that far, I reconsidered the balloon plan, and decided to get this sort of blue flower, for Easter, instead.  Now it can be a (somewhat) permanent prop for his imagination play — whether he’s acting out a more elaborate story in which a flower is featured somewhere, reflecting on the number of times he’s come across a reference that people often give flowers as a token of affection, or merely pretending that he can smell flowers.

This is the Easter card that he made the Easter Bunny.

Oooh....all kinds of good stuff in there!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can't see it in-frame, but Ash is holding up the DVD triumphantly.

Ash is "smelling" his flower. Just take his word for it.

Those stickers are pretty cool, and it hasn't even factored in yet that they are stickers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The chick glows!

The chick's head kind of goes BLORP, when squeezed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Magic Wiggle Worms. $6 at the zoo gift shop, $1 at DollarTree.

After a while of playing with his new things — by the way, the chick is no longer capable of going BLORP, although it does still light up — Ash settled down to watch Pete’s Dragon, while Steffan made ham for dinner.  Specifically, pieces of ham were grilled up in a base of orange juice and cinnamon.  Ash likes ham, but has never had it coated with anything before.  He ate it anyway!

Under all of the circumstances, he was allowed half a chocolate bunny for dessert. He kept making it hop to his mouth. Gee, and as a kid, I wasn't sure which made me feel worse....going straight for the head, or torturing it by eating up from the feet.

And that, my friends, was Easter.  Well, aside from the bit where the evening before, Ash dyed eggs for the first time…!

A landmark birthday party invitation for my autistic son

"Come ON, Daddy! You need to put your shoes on so you can drive me to the birthday party. I'm holding the present by myself, and I'm READY to GO NOW." ---- And yes, after this point, at the last moment, he remembered that he didn't want to wear his usual blue after all, but the shirt I'd made him for the day before.

Sure, this past Saturday was St.Paddy’s Day.  Even once the dregs of his Leprechaun Fizz were flat, though, the excitement wasn’t going to be over for Ash.  On Sunday, he had a birthday party to go to.  This would be his 6th peer birthday party invite ever, and the 5th he’d been able to accept.  (The first invite was from an NT kid and given to his whole Kindergarten class, but it was only the second week of school or something like that, and we didn’t have enough warning to arrange for Steffan to be off, so we could get him there.  I’d attempted to make some replacement plans for Ash and that boy, later, but the other parents weren’t as interested in follow-through as we were.  The 2nd (not-quite-NT) and 3rd (NT) birthday parties, which also were open to his whole Kindergarten class, I wrote about.  The 3rd birthday party (definitely not NT….in fact, almost all children there had ASD) I don’t think I ever got to writing about, but in any event it was for a boy from his summer class, and was HUGE….everyone from the summer program, and everyone in a local Autism group that they are a part of.  In contrast, the 4th birthday party (not NT), also over the summer but belonging to his best buddy from Kindergarten, was tiny….he was the only school friend invited to that one.)  Well eniways, this was also the first birthday party he’d been invited to, this school year.  I have no idea if there were others that he was excluded from.  I was just really, reaaaaally glad that he finally got invited to one again.  The reason I refer to is as a kind of landmark birthday party invitation, is that it is the first time he has been to invited to the birthday party of the same person, two years in a row.  Ok, sure, once again the whole class was invited, and A- happens to be in his class again, but still  Context might be everything, but sometimes, everything isn’t the point.

This was to be yet another bounce house party, at yet another different bounce house place, so I wasn’t sure whether to get my hopes up — or not — about the format.  A lot might ride on however good Ash’s motor planning happened to be that evening.  As it happened, this place featured equipment which was all designed to be a bit more entertaining (not that Ash requires more than an opportunity to bounce, period, to be entertained) than a plain square floor with mesh walls, but none of which involved anything that required you to be able to climb up a ladder comprised of wobbly, shallow, inflatable ridges for steps, and occasional loops of strapping for hand-grips….WHEW!

Actually, the whole thing went remarkably well.  We arrived only a few seconds after the birthday girl did, and as soon as she saw Ash get out of the car, she started calling his name excitedly, and running to hug him.  He gave her the present and she was as bouncy and grin-split as he was, loudly squee-ing to him and to her parents and grandma and to the world at large that it was so wonderful that he had come, and look, he’d come to her birthday party and he’d brought her a present and he was the best friend ever!

D’awww.

Want to see my kid happy?  See my kid feeling appreciated.

I wish I’d gotten a photo of that first ecstatic hug, but I was still maneuvering myself out of the car.

Oddly enough — and much to the confusion of the birthday girl and her family — Ash was one of only 4 kids that were friends with A- (not counting assorted peer-aged relatives and children of family friends), that showed up.  (He was also the only non-NT kid there.)  One, D’M- was a girl that was best buddies with A- in Kindergarten but is in a different school this year, and has barely seen her.  The other two are classmates of A- and Ash this year.  One of those, W-,  hadn’t RSVP’d (well, his parents hadn’t), and his dad had just dropped him off and vanished, so I had to tell A-’s mom who the heck he was.  Some were wondering if Ash had a brother they didn’t know about, and we’d just brought him along and thrown him into the fray automatically, pretty much just because they didn’t have any other context for him, and W- and Ash were the only “white” children there.  ::shakes head::  Eniways, I don’t know if more had RSVP’d that they were coming and just didn’t, or if even the response was just that poor, but I did feel a bit bad for A-.  Her grandma was going, “I don’t understand.  Everyone likes her.  It’s a bounce house birthday party!  Who doesn’t come to a bounce house birthday party, unless they REALLY don’t like the person?  Hell, at their age, I’d have gone to the birthday party of someone I didn’t like at all, if it was at a bounce house.”  I suggested that a factor might have been the fact that it was on a Sunday evening, before a school day.  That made her feel a bit better, although it didn’t make me feel better, since the day that Steffan was able to arrange off work for Ash’s hoped-for party, is a Sunday before a school day.  We can aim for doing it earlier in the afternoon, but still.  Plus, his social status is a bit more dubious than A-’s.  Plus, while I’m the sort of person that thinks the kind of homemade birthday party he wants is pretty damn cool, I don’t know if it’s as take-it-for-granted-cool as a venue-based bounce house party (which are all the rage).  Well, I suppose it’s not as if we weren’t putting a lot of prayers into lots of kids coming, ANYWAY.  Heh.  Steffan fears we’ll get our wish about the turn-out, only to NOT get our wish about the weather.  That would be a problem, although really, inhospitable park weather would be a problem no matter what the turn-out was.

A- and Ash goofing off together, near the end of the party. They were taking turns tickle-poking each other. Yep, they are the same age, she's just got a really tall Daddy. Also, Ash is not exactly tall, himself....but mostly, A- is just big.

Back to brighter thoughts.  The party really went rather well, for Ash!  He got along and played well with everyone there.

A-, as noted, was quite happy that he was in attendance.  She’s always been a good egg, and she’s got an exuberant personality similar to Ash’s….almost always with a big grin, a mischievous giggle, and ready to start jumping up and down and dancing because something good has happened to ANYONE.  Actually, she’s one of the kids that Ash’s teachers try to make sure sits near him in class, whenever they rearrange everyone’s desk assignment but Ash’s — thankfully, they agreed that moving him would be asking for some regressions on behalf of his motor planning, in terms of navigating himself efficiently between the places he needs to go — because she’s one of the NT kids that doesn’t get as frustrated if he starts losing control and stimming.  We like what we know of her parents, too.  For two years now, they were the other set of parents that were consistently involved in school stuff.  They are also the other set of parents that tries to be considerate and think about the staff and other parents….bringing food for more than just themselves, taking pictures of more than just their own child, etc.

D'M- might've needed confirmation that she did in fact remember Ash, but I think some part of her remembered having a thing for him, because she spent more time during the party focused on playing with him, than with A- or simply playing in general.

D’M- had been one of the little girls who was an especially great helper-friend to Ash last year.  She was a sweet little thing who always had a smile and a hug (for me, too) and a helping hand, and quite a number of pictures came home in his backpack, that she’d drawn for him.  In fact, she was definitely in the yell-his-name-excitedly-and-run-to-hug-him camp.  It was funny….I guess she has a pretty typical little kid memory without about a one-year attention span unless given reminders, because she ran up to me and said, “Hi!!  I….I think I know your son!”  I caught myself before saying, “Yes, sweetie, you do.  In fact, you sort of had a crush on him in Kindergarten.”  Heehee.  I just told her that, yes, she did — he had been in her Kindergarten class last year, just like A-, and they had been friends in school.  She was one of the kids I wish he’d been able to have a friendship with outside of school, too, and continue into this year.  Oh sure, they are approaching the age where you start to wish the best friends they already had were the same gender as they are, because cooties are on the horizon, waiting to leave at least one kid in any given social group in confused tears over why someone doesn’t want to be their friend any more, and why they are suddenly supposed to be gross.  Still, while I’m not exactly against Ash developing what friendships he can with other boys, I am not going to feel any less warmly about little girls he gets along so well with.  D’M- wasn’t at Ash’s reading level, though she was one of the better readers in Kindergarten, but she did, like Ash, love to read….so they were well-matched playmates in that, if Ash needed a break from playing together, they’d both be happy just taking a breathing and sitting quietly, reading together.

K-, in purple, was one of a number of children all piled in a giggly, wiggly mess, on this car. More specifically, on Ash, who was glomped in the bottom of the car. They'd all been running amuk together, W- included, but W- kept running, and the little girls all pounced Ash.

K- was the other little girl from the 1st grade class, who was there.  (You’ve seen her before, in the “Scary Devil vs. Friendly Dragon” captioned photo in my Halloween post.)  So far as I know, she’s always gotten along well enough with Ash, but I’ve reflexively been more on guard about her.  She strikes me as paying more attention to his differences, and actively deciding to not yet be bothered by them.  Part of it is that her personality tends towards wanting to be the leader of the pack, and Ash does not make for a follower that always does what is expected or asked of him.  I don’t know if she’s one of the kids that tattle-complains when his stimming annoys the other students in class.  One day when we brought him to school late because of a doctor’s appointment, she was signing in at the office at the same time, and volunteered to walk to class with him.  She took his hand and did so as we trailed, although then she, overlooking him, turned to ME to say, “Boy, he sure does like holding my hand.”  I think, perhaps, that she’s interested in and generally accepting of him, but at the same time takes for granted that adult intervention is a necessary element of the relationship.  I’m not sure whether that is because she has figured out what for her is the best way of bridging their gaps, based on how things work at school….or because she underestimates what he is at least sometimes able to do/say for himself….or some combination thereof.  I was fairly impressed/relieved when, during the party, Ash ran up to me to tell me that K- wanted to tell me something.  I found her, and she let me know that at one point when a bunch of them were playing in one of the bounce-houses, they were trying to move through one area, but Ash — who either was already flopped over in that spot when the other kids were coming through without him, or who perhaps fell over in that spot while moving along with them….I’m not sure on that point — wouldn’t get up and move when they asked him to.  I asked her if it was really a big deal.  She said no, she just wanted to know why he didn’t listen.  I told her that sometimes, if there is a lot going on, he had a hard time seeing and hearing and getting his body to move the way he wants it to, and he just needs some extra time to filter out all the craziness around him, and focus on what he is trying to do.  She said, “Ok,”, shrugged with a smile, and ran off again.  Ok, so it would’ve been better if she had handled that directly….but still, all things considered, I think it was handled pretty well.

W- and Ash took turns with their own private deviation from the games of chase going on at large, playing "Monster" -- one would simply be the monster and shout, "Raaaar!" while chasing (or dramatically catching) the other. Here, Ash holds off the very scary W-Monster.

W- is the other boy from class, who was there.  I know Ash likes him about as well as anyone else, but I have never witnessed or heard about anything to suggest that W- shows any distinct interest in him.   Well, whether it was just because Ash was the only already-known boy there or not, W- was plenty interested in him, at the party.  Like D’M-, W- would keep shifting from playing with the group at large, to playing a slightly more private version of the same kind of thing, just with Ash.  It was nice to see.

Most of the time, the kids played a vague game of tag, regularly losing track of the fact that one of them was supposed to be "It" and simply running through and over the equipment, together.

So….yeah, it went rather well.  Ash was actively included in all the group play.  (Occasionally, one of the kids would ask me to remind Ash that it was his turn to chase them.  With all the kids running in so many directions, and diving into different bounce houses and such, he sometimes lost track of what he was doing and just detoured off to bounce in whatever was closest to him.  The calls-out-to-him of his friends would blend in with the noise around him in general, but I, outside the game of tag, could fearlessly go to him to get his attention, and get him back on track.  About half the time, it was K- trying to cue his role in the activities, but then, she was doing that to everyone, to an extent.)  D’M- and W- would each play with him on their own, even if there was group play going on.  There was a lot of tag, and simply running about, and bouncing, and collapsing giggle-heaps, and tickling.  There was nothing in which it was expected that you were going to follow a specific path of movement, or a specific plotline, which were the things in which Ash, at previous bounce house chaos parties, had had more trouble keeping up with his peers.  In fact, the only time Ash was really left in the lurch at all was when it was time to eat, and the table — which wasn’t big enough for the number of people there, and which was packed mostly with relations of A- that Ash didn’t know — was filled up before he ever managed to find a seat near his friends.  He did get a seat at the end of the table, but you know, it’s not quite like hearing, “Ash!  Sit here by me!”  Ahh well.  There was pizza.  Pizza makes everything better.  There were also chicken wings, and Ash actually tried one.  It was lightly glazed with a mildly spicy, unidentifiable flavoring.  It was his first chicken wing.  We told him it was chicken.  Slightly later, after hearing a crunch, it occurred to us to tell him about the bones inside.

A mini-cousin of A- leads Ash to the water fountain, when he just couldn't seem to navigate himself to it.

Ash did ask to go home a few times, but that was just because he was overheated.  Most of the kids were….the temperature was almost 80°F that day, the kids were AT A BIRTHDAY PARTY IN A BOUNCE HOUSE PLACE, and there were no fans going.  As soon as we’d get him to sit with us for a minute or two and cool off, and have a drink, he’d be more than happy to stay.  After all, you can’t leave a birthday party until you’ve sung the birthday song before a candle is blown out on a cake, and all that!

No one got into trouble with the owners of the bounce house, or with anyone else.  Ash made the mistake of thinking the giant inflatable basketball court could be climbed on like everything else in the place, especially since it was rather long, the basket was waaaay down there, and the provided ball was a dinky thing and not even an especially standard-sized or aerodynamic basketball….but the owners only had to tell him once, and really, I think it was their mistake because there was no sign or anything to indicate that the one piece of equipment, for no particular reason, had to be treated more delicately than the rest.  Oh, there were the usual, bunch-of-little-kids-in-a-bounce-house mishaps, generally recovered from in several seconds.  Someone got fallen on.  Someone got knocked into and then bumped themselves.  Someone didn’t move out of the way fast enough.  Someone lost track of whose turn it was to be “It” in tag.  Nothing of particular note, though.  I had one of those mental close-calls when, at one point, D’M- came up to me and started ranting about how HE had done THIS and HE had done THAT and HE had DONE THAT AGAIN and SAID THIS, TOO and SHE HAD DECIDED THAT SHE DID NOT LIKE HIM.  Then she actually took a moment to breathe, and told me she was talking about W-.  Not Ash, W-.  Whew!

Steffan has mild Agoraphobia (his mother and one of his aunts have it much worse), so as tends to be the way of things when we take Ash to a birthday party together, he was on active duty keeping an eye on Ash from somewhere as out-of-the-way as he could be while keeping an eye on him….while I pretended I’m less ouchy and more extroverted than I am, and boinged all over the place between actually being with my husband, doing whatever Ash specifically wanted and needed Mommy for, being my typical, kid-whisperer self and having every kid in the place constantly running up to me trying to tell me things, ask me things, and/or involve me in things, and being the social person with the other adults, because ONE of us has to do it, and it’s easier for me than for Steffan.

That lead to a few other amusing interactions.  At one point A-’s grandma asked me where my husband had gotten to, and I told her he was over there, talking with D’M-’s  mom about the school D’M- had transferred to.  “You ok with that?” she asked me, “Because I got your back, honey.”  Hahahaa…..ohhh, SO not an issue. I get along well with A-’s grandma.  “Why didn’t y’all come to our party last summer?” she asked me, “I told you at A-’s birthday party last year that we were gonna have a pool party later in the summer, and you all aught to come!  We love you guys!”  Umm….yes, I remember her telling me that, but we never got invited.  “Pshhhh….Don’t you go trusting my daughter to remember to call people.  You give me your phone number right now, honey, and I’ll be sure to let you know whenever we’re doing something, and we can get the babies together, and you and me can hang out.  A- just LOVES Ash.  Every time she see him, she get a big ol’ grin on her face, and want to hug him.  He is so damn cute.  If I didn’t finally have a grandbaby-boy here, I’d still be telling you that I’m gonna have to borrow your boy to be my vanilla grandson, because he is just so sweet.”  I also had a tweenage girl tell me that one day she was there at school, and Ash came up to her and asked her if she was A-’s big sister, and she told him no, she was A-’s cousin, and he replied with, “Well I am her best friend!”  Ok, so he isn’t actually, but nobody is bothered enough by the idea that they are correcting him, so I’ll take it.

Ash didn’t get to see A- opening her present….the site rushed and kicked everyone out, before they got as far as present-opening….which made him a bit disappointed, since he was excited to give A- her purple (her favorite color) t-shirt with the sparkly pink rhinestone princess crown on it (she’s a girly-girl who loves princesses….well, the non-demure ones, anyway), that I’d made her.  Plus, he remembers how she had really loved the purple fairy barbie we’d given her last year, with the wrapping’s bow made with purple sparkly shoelaces.  He will, hopefully, get a good reaction from her while at school.  His goody bag sure had something good in it, for him….a noisemaker that, if all else fails, I can use as a mouthpiece for a fake horn for him to blow as Little Boy Blue.  What a convenient coinkeedink!  I think that the best thing I can hope he left with, though, is a more cemented friendship with A-, as well as more cemented dynamics between us and A-’s family.  Fingers crossed, and all that.

At the end of the party, A- and Ash look at the display case of toys that were not included in her party package, and discuss what they think she really aught to be given as an extra present, anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

.

Around here, place-holders are pretty cute

I have a lot to write about.  I don’t have time to write about it, right now, though.  So for now, I present you with this:

*SMOOCH*

The other day, Ash picked out a shirt at the thrift store.  Today, he wanted to wear it.  I was already wearing the green sweater.  I told him that he looked very handsome in his new shirt.  He told me that I looked beautiful in mine.  Then he asked his Daddy to take a picture of us together, wearing our green shirts.  I was cuddly-hugging him from behind while he was on my lap, and he craned back for a smooch.  In case you hadn’t noticed, my little prince charming here is quite smoochable, so what was a Mommy to do? ;-)

Looking back on 2011′s Christmas season (Part 5)

Ok, THIS really aught to be the last part.  Part 4 brought us to the edge of Christmas Eve, so there’s only so much left to cover, relative to the month of lead-in we had.  This was IT….the big days….

The funny thing is, it feels like there’s less to say about Christmas Eve, than the preceding days.  I mean, a lot went on, but more of it was all the same kind of thing, if that makes any sense.  That, and it went pretty much as Ash had anticipated the night before — and the things done in the morning and afternoon when it was just us, were mostly done together (and fairly lazily, because the day before had left him majorly depleted spoon-wise, and he’d need all the recuperation he could get before the next day), with no one to point a camera at us, and some of the things done later involved family that I only get into just so much, and don’t show photos of, on the blog.  There was one period, though, which I was distanced enough from to capture…

Yep, Ash has his own little wooden nativity set.  Some women volunteering at a charity Christmas-craft sale set up in the foyer of Steffan’s church had noticed Ash’s desire to play with it as we headed in past the table, last year, and surprised us by having chipped in together to gift it to him when we headed back out.  It was one of the little blessings last year, when, by the by, he pretty much just knew that the figures in the set included three wise men, three animals, an angel, Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus.  This year he knows a little bit more of the context, in a vague kind of way.  This lead to the following amusing quotes:

“Baby Jesus was born in a barn instead of a hospital….which is more fun.*”

“And then he lay down in the hay and the animals looked at him and two white men and one brown man** who were very wise came to give him birthday presents, and then someone pushed a button to make the sky light up around him and sing “Silent Night”***….I think maybe it was his Mommy Mary or his Daddy who was named Joseph except or sometimes God.”

* Ash went into a barn during the Pumpkin Farm field trip his class took in October.  He got to pet a calf, twin goats, a lamb, and a bunny.  This was quite distinctly more fun than his times spent in a hospital.  He assumes that baby Jesus and the others share his preference for furry animals over needles and such.

** He is basing this on the paint-job of the figures in his set.

*** He is basing this on a book his Grandma gave him a year or two ago.

I also snagged a few shots while Ash helped with Santa’s cookies.  This year his help was a bit more effective than last, after having had the practice with the gingerbread men, along with just more developmental time, in-between.

Ash has placed and pressed in the letter-shaped cutters. Other cookies will be made....snowmen and Christmas trees and stars and the like....but these are the important ones for him to do himself.

Ash double-checks the cut-outs before trying to peel them out and hand them to me for placement on the cookie sheet.

I think my favorite part of the period when my in-laws were over, was that Ash, fueled by his pride and excitement over having helped make Santa’s cookies, because vaguely obsessed with the idea of being helpful in general.  This wasn’t just the usual interest in being helpful via wanting to break in and “help” someone do whatever he realized they were about to do for themselves (often in a counter-productive way, of course), or the also-usual leaping at the chance to do what someone has asked him if he could do for them.  This was stuff like him distributing cookies to everyone in the room, along with cups of things to drink, in case the cookies made them thirsty.  Granted, the cups he distributed were not always the cups left around by the family members he was handing them to, but hey, he was trying, and it was all his idea.

This is how things were left when Ash went to bed on Christmas Eve. I hope the reindeer aren't as hungry as Santa is expected to be!

We added the Christmas characters, but Santa did the rest. From the looks of it, I caught him when he was returning with the mostly empty carrot plate, to place one last special thing under the tree. He also snuck some candy canes onto it. Perhaps they no longer fit in his pockets (every child has noticed that Santa always carries candy canes in his pockets) after this latest stack of cookies and quintuple-scooped-cocoa was downed.

Honestly, I was surprised to find that any crumbs or drips had made it through the night, when I checked things Christmas morning! At least it seems like Santa was smart, and ate the special cookies spelling out his name, first.

Christmas morning.  Ahhhhhh, Christmas morning.  For once, Ash waking up at 7am when he didn’t especially have to, was him waking up LATER than other children.  In any event, with a whole two hours or so of sleep painting festive circles under the eyes of us parents, and perhaps the world’s best fuel source twinkling in the eyes of our child, we began our day.  The plan was to, like last year, begin with some us-time under our own tree….then get dressed and go over to Uncle S- and Auntie L-’s place — where we’d also do the family gift exchange — for brunch with them, Uncle A-, and Grandma and Grandpa….then come back to our place to let Ash unwind (and possibly open something else)….then go over to Uncle A-’s for dinner with just him and Grandma and Grandpa, since Uncle S- and Auntie L- would be having dinner with her family….and then finish the day with some more us-time at our place.  It was a rather full day, but at least it involved a number of flexible escapes, and we’d have the next day to share a more relaxed, just-us-three, Christmas-Day-2.  Typically, Steffan works a late night on Christmas Eve, and a very early morning the day after Christmas.  For once, he was opening on Christmas Eve, and off the day after Christmas as well.  HALLELUYAH!  Yeah, we were grateful.

Someone asked, for Ask Ash!, what his favorite thing about Christmas was.  I kind of lost track of who, so I hope whoever it was, is looking.  In any event, he answered that, “My favorite thing about Christmas is that family is there to have time smiling together….and also, things are sparkly and Santa comes if you’re nice.”

Ash starts on the outer rim and works his way in. The Christmas characters were an obvious place to start! This Rudolph started off as a moose from DollarTree. I clipped the felt antlers into a more reindeer-ish shape, sewed on a sparkly, red craft poof I'd had floating around for years to be his nose, and used a $1 jingle-ring like Ash had played with while caroling at school, as a special collar. BAM! Almost-instant, semi-DIY Rudolph.

Another DollarTree find from Mommy and Daddy was this piggy bank. Ash has learned to identify different coins and bills, in school, and has done some simple math related to them....now it's time to try AGAIN at working on some of the context and concepts related to money.

The stockings were no longer limp. Propped against the small pile of gifts from Mommy, Daddy, Great-AuntiePat, Emily Elf and a couple of family friends, were a few packages in Santa wrapping paper -- as gifts from Santa tend to be wrapped in, around here. Only one gift under the tree wasn't marked like the others, as if it had been prepared at the last minute, only upon arrival. It was a little, red, velvet box with a green ribbon. Inside that was a red satin pouch. Inside that...

...was the silver sleigh-bell that Ash had asked Santa for!!

“Santa gave me the bell I asked for when I wroted him my note!  And it was like the HeroBoy, because I believe!  And it rings for me, and it sounds beautiful, do you hear, Mommy?!  And you know, I think I won’t put it in a hole in my bathrobe.”

Ash gives the bell a good jingling. Actually, based on the scratches on his cheek and nose, this photo must have been taken later in the day. Every time we came home, the first thing he did was go to the tree, locate his bell, and ring it. It has also been the first thing he's done upon coming downstairs in the morning, every day since.

So….the scratches.  See, Uncle S- and Auntie L-’s house has a very, very enticing feature…

This is Cole kitty. He thought his placement under the tree suggested that he was trying to hide, NOT that the chance to pet him was going to be his gift to Ash.

"The PURPLE kitty doesn't scratch and make me wear a band-aid."

Really, it wasn’t so bad.  If the scratches hadn’t been bleeding at first, we wouldn’t have bothered torturing Ash with a band-aid on his face.  He didn’t care in the slightest that Cole had scratched him.  To Ash, no matter what he’s been told, the inevitable occasional scratches from one cat or another, guard as we do, are a sign that the offending kitty was being silly, not a sign that he should probably feel less of a desire to try to pet it….or the next cat that doesn’t seem as interested in him as he is in it.  Perhaps if his nociception wasn’t often off-kilter, his eiditic memory would counter-balance his complete lack of danger sense, in these matters.  Whoops?

Some conveniently-timed snuggle-squishes were put into effect, immediately after Cole's less than merry mood was made known to....the rest of us. At this moment, Ash and his Daddy were listening to someone or other else in the family.

Another thing of note from that part of the day was that Ash ate about half of a Belgian waffle (¼ from Daddy’s plate that Mommy didn’t know about, and then later, ¼ from Mommy’s plate that Mommy was, therefore, extra impressed by)….which was something new for him.  He ate plain parts, but still.

One of Ash's presents from his aunt and uncle, that he broke into once we got home again, was this toy-and-book set. "Jingle" the Husky puppy, if you have pressed his ear first, responds to certain phrases read from his storybook, by barking, howling a tune, etc. The book is quite simple, relative to Ash's reading level, but the "interactive" aspect delights him.

"You're a GOOD dog, Jingle!"

An interesting thing about Jingle is that he was first set off by Ash’s uncle, while at their house, before Ash knew what to expect….and Ash was barely startled, and only for a moment, and was not scared.  Apparently, Jingle was exempt from the stuffed-toys-or-otherwise-made-decoratives-that-look-like-creatures-and-make-noise-and/or-move-especially-if-it-was-unexpected-the-first-time-are-going-to-terrify-me rule.  Possibly this is because the first sound that Jingle makes is a bell-jingling sound, which rather blends into the overall audio backdrop of Christmas anyway.  I was intrigued, but mostly glad.  I had, after all, told my SIL that yes, I thought he’d enjoy that gift, and I had a feeling they’d pay attention to the abnormality of his reaction, and not any overlooked disclaimers about the manner and timing of introduction, if he reacted horribly a few seconds after they gave it to him.

One highlight of the part of the evening spent at Uncle A-’s for Christmas dinner, was Ash’s continued desire to be helpful, being taken advantage of by me to get him to practice utensil use.  Ash is not so good with eating utensils.  He has only recently improved when it comes to spooning anything that doesn’t stick to the spoon (like pudding), thanks to cocoa.  You’d think that spearing things with a fork would be easier than balancing things on a spoon, but he’s never gotten the hang of forks at all, with anything.  Don’t even ask about knives, ok?  Some day, we might just see how he takes to the old chopsticks-rubber-banded-around-their-rolled-up-wrapper thing, for the heck of it (I never needed that, but I know a lot of kids….and some adults….that required that trick for early chopstick learning stages, and Ash has far from the average kid’s motor coordination)….but in the meantime, he sticks largely to finger food when he’s feeding himself, whether or not anyone else thinks it is finger food.  Well anyway, Ash really wanted to “help” me eat the Christmas ham, so I told him I’d love it if he helped me, but I wanted to eat it with a fork, so he would only be helping if he tried to feed it to me with the fork.  Gee, did he think he could try to do that for me?  Pretty please with dragons on top?  It would be sooooooo nice and helpful for my tired hands…  I think everyone else in the room popped their jaws grimacing and wincing, waiting for me to be speared in the throat or stabbed through the cheek.  With cues to move the fork very slowly and gently towards my mouth and wait for my teeth to close on the ham before he moved the fork away, though, Ash did a fine job of feeding me without injuring me, and was so pleased with himself that he decided I was hungry for seconds, and would I please cut them up so he could stick them with the fork again?  Heheh.  Mommy wins.

Indeed, by the time we neared the last part of our Christmas day, Ash was still having a pretty darn good one.

By the time Ash went to bed that night, the living room looked like this…

Ash sits amidst the rubble.

The impressive part is that the room looked like that, but not all that much was opened.  It’s rather nice to have a child that gets so much out of each gift, and takes such time with each gift, that even without GETTING that many gifts, he still takes an average of one to two weeks to open everything and go through his stocking.

Speaking of which, here are a few post-Christmas highlights, mostly for friends that I know look here…

Ash and I play "The Magic Labyrinth" game, a gift from his "Big Cousin C-", for the first time. It has been played since, too. It turned out to be a GREAT game for Ash, in many ways.

Ash looks at the "Big Cats" book, also from "Big Cousin C-"....and tries to see if he can stick out his tongue as far as the yawning lioness can.

By the way, he says that lions are his favorite big cat, because the boys have manes which look so soft and fluffy, like his Daddy’s hair used to be.  Is anyone surprised?

These ladybug slippers come from Grandma.  They match his PillowPet.  Ash faces two challenges when it comes to making good use of them.  First, he must reconcile himself with the concept of “inside shoes”….secondly, he must master actually walking in them.

Ash and the Amazing Aurora, who is taking a turn balancing on the large weighted ball.

Aurora, a velvety-soft, blue and purple dragon with shiny parts, was one of Ash’s belated birthday presents from his “Auntie A-” that I set aside and saved for Christmas so she would lose one excuse to send him MORE for Christmas.  Aurora is Ash’s most playful stuffed dragon thus far, a character trait determined when she was so impatient to get unwrapped and pounce Ash that she somehow….magically, I suppose….managed to roar while still in her box, despite it normally taking precision effort to squeeze her neck in just the right way, to produce that effect.  As you might have guessed based on Abominable Snowmen, et al, this unlikely feat of impatient enthusiasm on the dragon’s part, was rather counterproductive.  Aurora’s box took another day after being unwrapped, to be opened, and it took the rest of that day to get Ash comfortable with playing with her, first indirectly, and then, handling her himself.  Had she not been such an endearing dragon, I suspect it would’ve taken much longer.

This no-bake gingerbread house book was another gift from "Emily Elf" -- there was too much sickness in our household to make one over Ash's winter break, but the book contains ideas for all seasons, so I expect another good excuse will come up soon.

“This is a mushroom gnome home, do you see, Mommy?  It looks like a mushroom, you know, and gnomes are kind of like faeries I think.  And do you know, Mommy….Mommy….when you say gnome, the ‘g’ is silent.”

This animal calender was from Ash's great-grandma. Ash thinks it's great, especially because the snow leopard cubs are on the cover AND inside, and that's his Daddy's favorite big cat. Naturally, Ash and I have taken turns pretending to be all the depicted animals inside....generally, a Mommy-baby set of them, whether or not that's in the photo.

A new, blue hoodie lined with super-soft plush fabric puts Ash in a good enough mood that I get him to try Ramen for the first time -- after he asked me to make him some and then immediately decided he wanted something else -- by getting him to imagine that it was squiggly-wiggly dinosaur seaweed, and he was a baby brontosaurus with a big belly to fill. This is the first time a trick like that has ever worked.

With it already being mid-January, I don’t know if I’m going to get as far as writing a separate holiday-gratitudes post, like I did last year.  So here, before I go, I want to add a few thank-you’s:

  • Thank you to E, my Fairy Blogmother, and Ash’s “Big sister”….all these years after you needed me to be a Mommy to you, you still always think about how to help take care of us, in turn.
  • Thank you to Mo, who sees no reason why saving our asses….sorry, arses….should be enough if she hasn’t filled Ash’s tummy with his favorite pizza yet.
  • Thank you to “Santa” for being sneaky again this year, so I have to let you get away with it.  You got our medication.
  • Thank you to Wolf, for giving us the ability to give Ash the animals that inspire him to aspire.
  • Thank you to Mike, for choosing us to be the adoptive geeks for your books.
  • Thank you to Moobs, for the sassy fashion show I just put on for my husband, and the chocolate we’re pretending isn’t bulging out from under it
  • Thank you to C-, for honoring Ash as one of the only little people you care for at all, let alone adore.
  • Thank you to E-, otherwise known as “Emily Elf”, for being insufferable.
  • Thank you to Kat for the….uh….reminder to snag a photo of Santa in the act.
  • Thank you to the friends and family — some who know about this blog, and some who don’t — who sent cards, sent gifts, have been thinking of us enough to be planning to send things, came to visit, are hoping to visit, etc. etc. etc.  Thank you to all who cry with us, scream with us, sigh with us, cheer with us.  Thank you for the wishes, hopes, and prayers.  Thank you for being you.

 

Looking back on 2011′s Christmas season (Part 3)

Part 2 took us through early December, and left us with Ash pretending to be Santa, in the hopes that Santa would be inspired to do things BY HIMSELF a little faster. ;-)   Obviously, it didn’t work, but also obviously, Ash — who in one recent, iconic moment, quite literally drank some orange juice and then raised up his cup and said, “Mommy, look!  My glass is half full!” — was not especially discouraged.

It didn’t hurt that some gifting went on, Santa quite aside.

For starters, my friend E-, mommy of A-1 (aka “The little girl with lots of curls,” not to be confused with A-) who was Ash’s first peer-aged buddy, had sent Ash a number of homemade pajamas to keep him cozy.  The top part of the scull-and-crossbones set (aka his “Pirate pajamas”) can be seen in this post.  Most, though, I’d saved for December, with the excuse that an “Emily Elf” was leaving extra presents for him with me, every time she came to check on his Naughty/Nice List status.  She had told me that the pajamas didn’t need to be saved for Christmas, because she knew we were all dealing with being sick, and didn’t want us to be cold.  Feeling like he was getting fragments of Christmas itself, early, helped Ash deal with waiting for the real deal.

Ash calls these the “Clifford pajamas” — they are big, red, fuzzy, and covered with puppy footprints.

The “Clifford pajamas” are still a bit long for Ash, so usually he only wears them at bedtime, even if there is no reason to wear anything but comfy PJs during the day. Depending on the timing of baths and such, though, sometimes Ash ends up changed for bed a little earlier in the evening. If he requests these pajamas, that would be a set-up for many faceplants as he trips over the pantlegs while running amuk, so I try to redirect his energy into some more controlled PT.  Look, we’re wheelbarrow-walking!

Did you notice in the last picture that there appeared to be “Clifford pajama”-clad legs not his own, holding Ash up?  Yeah, “Emily Elf” made us matching family pajamas.  It is Christmas Eve, here and we should ALL (haha) be getting to bed soon, so we are all wearing them — and having a picture taken, for the elf’s benefit.  I think this is the, “Help!  We’re all melting into a puddle of fleece, and at least two of us are too tired to save ourselves!” photo.

We were all laughing at someone or something.  It was probably Uncle A-

He almost looked sleepy in those other pictures, huh?  Almost.  But guess what?  Up he sproinged!  “Mommy!  Daddy!  Wait!” he declared, “I think you are tired, and it’s time to go to bed.  Please!  Mommy, Daddy, you need to get ready for bedtime now, so Santa can come and bring presents because we’re NICE.”

All three of us were also invited to the annual Christmas party (for which I made these) of some friends from Steffan’s church.  Now, this was a grown-up party (albeit a fairly well-behaved one), and Ash was actually the only child even invited.  He was wanted there, though, and he knew it, and we would’ve had a hard time NOT bringing him there.  In the end, he spent most of the time we stayed, curled up on a comfy chair, in mild sensory overload from the new environment and the new people, sleepily watching everyone.  Steffan and I took turns sitting with him, and providing support for whatever conversations other people came to have with him.  Now, Ash was somewhere in between the last cold and the next strep throat, and everything combined to make the overall experience appear less stimulating to him than it normally would’ve been.  Did he think it was time to go home?  Of course not.  The church friends had invited him to a party.

By the way, he now owns a cross.  I can’t get into the details, but it’s a cross with a lot of significance to the person who felt he should have it, and it’s also a cross that has been blessed.

He only wears it if we go to church, on Christian holidays, or other special occasions when he either wants to or we think he could use an extra blessing....and we'll be around. The thing is, we REALLY don't want it to get lost, if he feels the need to have the chain off of him.

The next seasonal adventure on the agenda couldn’t fail to be stimulating.  Ash was going to meet Santa!  We knew it would have to be quite the experience, too  Last year’s meeting of Santa (for the first time) occurred, in combination with a “Christmas Train” ride, in a new, local, indoor venue.  This year, said venue was not even open.  That meant that not only would the experience — and the Santa — be particularly different, but part of it would be missing.  Boy oh boy.  One option, discovered this year, would guarantee Ash 15 one-on-one minutes with a Santa used to dealing with autistic kids, in a sensory-friendly “workshop”.  Consideration of whether 15 minutes with Santa would be spent doing better than recovering from having anticipation literally restrained during the 45 minute drive there, was moot, since they didn’t have any free slots available at a time compatible with Steffan’s work schedule that week.  We decided to go with the (also free) Santa experience being offered by a local Parks & Rec department.

So it was that one Saturday evening, we shuffled into the “warming room” in a community center, where we got our tickets for the horse-drawn-wagon ride past a Christmas lights display along some water, which would take us to meet Santa.  The “warming room” had tables with face painters, tables with coloring/activity booklets, and….ahhhhhhhh, there we go….several chests and tables full of books….oh, wait….guarded by a story-teller who was remarkably touchy about children touching her books, and reading, even silently, to themselves.  That was a problem.  Thankfully, we’d dressed all of us warmly with the wagon ride in mind, and there was also a playground right outside, and away from the tempting books.  Steffan decided to spare my joints and stay out there with Ash while I listened for our turn approaching, inside, and picked from a tree which had been decorated with donated ornaments which each family was supposed to take a few from to bring home with them.  (It occurs to me that when I went out to tell them it was our turn, I saw Ash climbing all over some of the playground equipment, while his Daddy stood below.  I wonder if Steffan would remember whether the steps and platforms were solid, or whether it was the darkness which allowed holes to not matter.)  Soon enough, it was time for HORSIES! and the special ride past PRETTY LIGHTS!, and then we were at the place set up for meeting SANTA!  As luck would have it, by the time Ash was done looking at the decorations, all of the other children that came in on our wagon had come and gone again, the next wagon full of kids had only just set out, and Ash got about 15 minutes of one-on-one time with Santa anyway.  Santa was quite good with him, although I have to say, Santas who require fake facial hair really aught to do some grooming of it so that their traditional flowing white mustache and beard don’t completely hide their smile.  Ash was quite pleased, however, to see that Santa was wearing a candy-cane-striped watch, which gave him hope that Santa would not be late for Christmas.

Big Santa and Little Santa :-) "Santa! I am pretending to be you, but I am not really you. It's just pretending. So you can still come over on Christmas Eve and bring presents, please, ok?"

The other good photo was part of our Christmas Card.  Eniways, after his bonding time with Santa, Ash got to have some cookies and cocoa provided by some elves, and then an extra goodbye minute or two with Santa before we caught the next wagon back.  On the ride there, we’d gotten the uncovered wagon and the black horses, and on the way back we’d gotten the covered wagon and the brown horses, so all bases ended up being covered….bonus!  All in all, quite a successful adventure.

Christmas was still taking too long to get here — and for some reason, Mommy claimed that opening extra Advent calender windows and feeding her extra chocolates all at once, would not make the month go by faster — but at least we had a fresh source of inspiration to help pass the time.

Ash puts on his snow boots, to stress the fact that he is impatient for it to snow.  There is supposed to be snow on Christmas, and a head start that he can play in, wouldn’t hurt!

Ash drew a Christmas tree on his Magnadoodle.

 Stay tuned for Part 4, which might even be the last part!  Oooh…

Starting 2012 off right

Today was the last day of Ash’s 2011-2012 winter break, and it ended with a non-whimpery bang.  Well, assuming that he doesn’t end up with a snow day tomorrow, anyway, it’ll have been the last day — but we’re reallyreallyreally hoping that’s not an issue because he reallyreallyreally is looking forward to school being open again.  Eniways…

I have to say, this had to have been one of his favorite days of the whole vacation, and that’s pretty impressive considering Christmas fell in there.  And yes, I know that I still have to finish writing about that.  ENIways…

The goodness started from the get-go.  Ash woke up at 7-something in the morning (naturally), called for us, and then, wonder of wonders, did something we’ve been trying to get him to do for ages….which was to announce that he had to go to the bathroom (not that we were sticklers for the announcement part) and then actually do so, instead of waiting in his bedroom for us to come in and suggest that he go, in the meantime having a potty accident through his Pull-Up and into his bedding that he might or might not have barely held off through the night until that point.

Win.

So after that exciting success, we got him dressed and agreed that, yes, he could go downstairs now.

SURPRISE!

Unknown to him, his “UncleMonkey” and “AuntieTora” had arrived after his bedtime last night, driving around 14 hours round trip to visit us for only around 17 hours (“And not nearly enough of them asleep,” Steffan adds with a touch of guilt)….because they are awesome like that.  There is much love shared by the five of us.  And….and most of you will understand what this means….I have to tell you, it’s quite something to see someone ELSE looking at your kid with such obvious love.  In any event, Ash went through a few seconds of shock / expectations-for-day-reset / processing, and then got the equivalent of a drug hit, except it’s all giddiness-laced adrenaline.  Or, possibly, the other way around.  And, really, we weren’t feeling it much less than he was, if at all, we’re just sliiiiiightly better at the self-restraint of it.  That, and we actually register fatigue more than once every few weeks.

Good feelings were fed, literally, when Daddy agreed to make him pancakes (plain, no toppings) for breakfast.  That was preceded and followed by more love and fun and silliness in general.  There was a lot of shrieking laughter, flying around, utterly failed attempts at looking innocent, hiding under blankets, hug piles, and so on and so forth and something else entirely again….and it wasn’t even all on Ash’s part.  Somewhere in there were a few calmer moments, too, I’ll grant you.  At one point he nicely sat down and read aloud another chapter of The Wizard of Oz, a nice (albeit condensed for children….but hey, it was in perfect shape and we found it at the thrift store for a quarter) copy of which was one of our Christmas presents for him.  (And next weekend, when he does his version of the we-want-parents-to-force-their-kids-to-read-for-ten-minutes-a-night-so-we’re-going-to-give-them-homework-asking-them-five-super-basic-questions-just-to-confirm-they-at-least-looked-at-the-cover-of-a-40-word-book homework, we’ll have him type his sentences about this book, which maybe, just maybe, will help them remember that they are supposed to be on the same page as us when it comes to skill-leveling-up his English curriculum.)  Oh, and breakfast-itself excitement didn’t even end with the pancakes, either.  Grandpa’s cookies, which had been delivered along with Christmas presents, had included gingerbread men.  These were actual gingerbread men, as opposed to the intentionally-overcooked sugar cookie “gingerbread men” that Ash was already fond of.  Ash had decided he wanted to try one — this was the day before — but only after he had finished off the stash of his Daddy’s snickerdoodles….and after his Daddy had already taken the last of Grandpa’s gingerbread men with him to work in his lunch.  Well, thankfully, Uncle A- still had a large stash of the gingerbread men, and was happy to share with his nephew.  Daddy had gone to get them the night before, so on Monday morning, after eating all of his pancakes and drinking his orange juice, Ash got to have one of those, too.  As it turned out, Ash found that he liked them.  He was also inspired, for the first time, to try dunking his cookies in milk.  Whoa!  That’s a big deal, on the texture-tolerance front!

After Ash had eaten and more or less immediately burned off what he’d eaten, he got to open the presents that they had brought him.  Previously, we’d inherited a Wii from “UncleMonkey”, but as we hadn’t yet acquired anything for it specifically with Ash in mind, it hadn’t gotten much use.  That was about to change, big time.  They got him Just Dance Kids 1 & 2.  Oh sure, I had to explain to him what the things were, and relate them to the Dance Dance Revolution game that’s made special guest appearances in gym class at school.  Once things were set up and we got him started, though…  Heeheehee.  He’s still figuring things out, but man oh man, is this going to be fun.  Bear in mind this is a kid who had a few famous Irish Stepdance productions completely memorized and would try to dance along with them on a daily basis between the ages of 2 and 4 or so.  Oh yes, this will be all kinds of fun.  Good-for-him fun, too.  Oh, it’s not that he’s short on exercise….not MY child, who, as I wrote once before, resembles in his activity the potential result of  a pogo stick and a pinball machine having a baby that was then raised by singing monkeys.  It’s just that this kind of activity is also PT for him, with a little OT thrown in on the motor planning front.  Totally worth having small-child-friendly songs stuck in your head for several hours after watching your kid try to mimic an elaborate version of the Chicken Dance several times in a row.

NOTE: One of Ash’s wishes during the bedtime routine on Monday, was that he could, “Dance to the Wii,” after his “3 Steps” on Tuesday after school.  He did so.  The pattern repeated on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Unfortunately, our guests would have to head back home as close to midday as they of course failed to leave us, so soon enough it was time to get ready for lunch.  Ash’s favorite pizza buffet place?  Check.  Getaways made after Ash was weighed down by three slices of cheese pizza, two garlic-bread-sticks and a bowl of lettuce, were….well, they were still sad, but, thankfully, we had more smiles still in store for the day.  In the wake of our dear ones’ departure, we stopped home just long enough to assess how Ash was doing, and then made our way to the zoo.

The zoo is always good.  Thanks to the same angel as last year, we can take Ash a few times a month, THIS year, too!

Yes, those are clownfish.Yes, those are clownfish.  Granted, it’s a male and a female, not a father and son, but the reality would be less exciting.

The zoo has a small aquarium area.  Despite Ash’s attachment to furry things, he still finds the fish pretty exciting.  Sometimes, we go to the pet store at the mall just so he can look at the fish tanks.  They entrance him.  Yes, some day, when we have our own place, and that place has a good place to put a tank, we’ll have one of our own for him.

It might be hard to tell, but this is Ash watching a small turtle sunning itself under a heat lamp.  Ash said, “The turtle has a sunshine lamp to make his head feel happier, like me!

I wasn’t about to tell him otherwise.

Fish might not seem that exciting to look at, relative to some other denizens of the zoo.  Ducks might not seem that way, either.  Nevertheless, Ash is thrilled by duck ponds.  Bonus points are given for anything about the ducks that he can read.

Of course, it’s not that keeping pace with a snow leopard ISN’T all sorts of fun.

Then, it started sleeting.  That kind of cut into the animal fun, but it wasn’t without merits.

Thankfully, we weren’t far from a way back inside.  The lions weren’t so lucky.

Before we left the zoo, we happened to run into R- and her family — which was a pleasant surprise — and were able to pick up a new zoo member t-shirt, for the new year, for Ash.  He always wants to wear his member t-shirt when we go, so it certainly won’t hurt to have a second one to include in the spare changes we always bring with us.

When we got home, I had waiting for me in my InBox an inquiry about a play-date, from a boy that was in Ash’s summer class.  By God, the day was still going better than entirely well!  With buoyant hearts Ash and I headed upstairs to give him a warm bath, while Steffan braved the outdoors again so he could pick up some fries (“flavored” and curly ones this time, not the usual plain, “line”-shaped ones) that Ash had requested for part of dinner.  Bath-time was also a thing of extra anticipation, this day, for Ash was going to try out the color-fizz tablets that had been a gift from Emily Elf, for the first time.

Blueberry bubble bath plus one yellow tablet plus one blue tablet make lovely, aquamarine-colored water!

While Ash was in his ocean-colored bath, we discussed what manner of tail each of us would have, if we were mer-folk.  Ash decided that if he was a merboy, his tail would have sparkly-green scales.  If I was a mermaid, my tail would have shiny-rainbow scales.  If Daddy was a merman, his tail would have pearly-pink scales.  Pearly pink scales….really?!  (It’s not that we’re gender-typing, it’s just that Daddy….and Mommy too, for that matter….kind of hates pink.)  Well, Daddy later got him to agree that perhaps it would be ok if he had shiny-green-and-silver scales on his tail, instead.

After the bath (and shower, and getting dried, dressed and blow-dried….and by golly, he’s actually adjusted to getting his hair blow-dried, now!), Ash read me another chapter of The Wizard of Oz.  This proved interesting, because instead of simply reading it aloud as he was reading the words, as he usually does, he quite clearly scanned each page quickly with his eyes over a second or two, and then recited the text, with only a few small deviations that reflected the language processing issues in his head.  Ok then.

Following that, we watched a Zaboomafoo episode together.  Following THAT, we had a period of pretend-play with his “Christmas Characters” — a collection fleshed out this year — during which they all got named for the first time.

The penguin, from last year, is named Joe.  The new elf is named Em, and is the brother of Emily Elf, who….*cough*….made our matching family pajamas, and kept sneaking presents for Ash over here, when she’d come to check on his status for Santa’s lists.  The new reindeer which is obviously Rudolph, is named Rudolph.  Duh.  (No, Ash hasn’t learned to say that yet — thank goodness.)  The green bear, from last year, is named Rim.  The polar bear, from two years ago, is named Co.  The snowman in the hat, from last year, is Frosty (of course).  The reindeer in the Santa hat, from last year, is Blitzen — who, Ash would like to point out, is Santa’s 8th reindeer.  Santa, who is new, hardly needs introduction.  The gingerbread man, who is also new, is named Mil.  Yes, of course I checked the spelling of all these names.

The teddy bear with a heart on its chest also got named — named Teddy, as it happens — which I’m glad about, since it felt a bit silly that he’d named someone else’s new bear, but not his own.  It turns out that Ash had been delaying playing with it because he thought there might be a button under the heart that made noise, and he was waiting until he remembered to ask me about it, so that it would not surprise him.  That’s pretty smart, considering that when a toy DOES make noise unexpectedly, it scares the bejeebers out of him, and it takes him quite some time to work through that on a sensory-defensive front, even when he WANTS to play with the toy and hear the sounds it makes.  Now, I got Ash this teddy bear because the other month he was reading a poem in one of his old Highlights magazines, about a boy who has so many stuffed animals on his bed that he runs out of room for himself, and he commented to me that he had all the same kinds of stuffed animals that the boy did, except for not having a teddy bear.  Where was HIS teddy bear, he wanted to know.  Ash’s Pooh bear, which used to be his Daddy’s, doesn’t count.  That’s POOH.  The realistic-ish brown bear cub that had been in “Santa’s” gift bag last year doesn’t count both because it sort of looks like a real bear, not a teddy bear, and because the pattern, fabric, and degree of stuffing made it remarkably un-huggable.  The just-named Rim doesn’t count, because he’s lumped in with the “Christmas Characters” by having been a gift from his Grandma that was amidst them, last year.  All right, fine.  I got lucky and found Teddy….who is oh-so-soft….at the thrift store, for a buck.  He was in perfect condition, not yet even possessed of that you-know-it-when-you-sniff-it thrift store smell.  It seems his potential had been overlooked because at some point someone decided to either start dressing him, or start undressing him, and hadn’t finished.  He sat there on a shelf with nothing on but a pair of ill-fitting black mesh stockings, looking for all the world like a closet transvestite caught changing on the way to a club by his mother.  Once you removed the stockings, though, he was self-confidently adorable.

In the process of the imagination play, I also snuck in a lesson on phone etiquette.  Even if you’re just making a phone with your hand and pretending to get a phone call, it’s important, after you are ready to be done and say goodbye, to listen and give the other person a chance to say goodbye — or whatever else they need to say, first — too, before you hang up.  We’ll see if it sticks this time.

Steffan returned bearing french fries, which lead to yet another social skills lesson/review….this one on request etiquette.  That is, although they sound like they are almost the same, “Daddy, would you make me the french fries, please?” is more polite than, “Daddy.  Make me french fries!  Please.”  Also, while yes, it is important to stop and look at someone when you ask them to do something for you, it is also important to continue looking at them after you have made your request, until they have had a chance to reply.  Even if you are sure that they are going to agree, it is still rude to take it for granted, and turn around and run away as soon as you are done talking.  Yes, even if you are thanking them as you are running away.

With Ash, who always aims to be polite, this lead to sorry hugs.  THAT lead to a new decree:  From now on, when he asks if he can receive or give a hug, he should try to remember to specify whether he needs it to be a gentle hug or a big, squeezey hug.  If he hasn’t remembered to tell us, we will try to remember to ask.  That way, he’ll get the kind of hug his body needs, and not a kind that will hurt him, at that time.  Sometimes the person he is hugging might need a different kind of hug than he does, and then they will have to think of something else or try to do an in-betweeny hug.  Most times, though, just telling people what he needs will help a lot.

A new library book that Daddy picked up on the way home, filled the rest of the time until dinner was ready.  Ash happily shared the seasoned curly fries with us, and let us know that he hoped to have more the next night.  He also pointed out that the calender on the wall needed to be turned over from the December page to the January page.  I told him that the calender didn’t have any pages past December, and that I would need to get a new calender for the new year that was starting with January; I did not have one yet, though, and the only new calender was the animal one that his great-grandma had sent him, which I wanted him to be able to keep with his books so he could still look at it easily.  He told me he’d share his calender with us, and that I could put it on the wall if I wanted to, until I got a new one too.  Aww.

The night finished with a fabulous bedtime.  One highlight was Aurora joining the dragon honor guard on the battlements of Ash’s castle bed (the as-yet-unnamed-red-dragon had done so a few nights before)This was pretty notable, since it means Ash has completely gotten over his fear that she might roar unexpectedly, without ANYONE touching her.  Ash also decided to add Teddy and Patchwork (a handmade gift from his “AuntieTora” a couple of years ago) to PrinceRibbit and Fafnir inside his bed.  Last but not least, he hummed along with me when I sang him his lullaby.  Awwww, so sweet.

It’s a good thing his castle hasn’t run out of battlements yet, because I know he’s going to keep wanting more dragons!

Teddy and Patchwork the purple unicorn wait on the nightstand by the rocker, until Ash gets tucked into bed.

I suppose it isn’t fair to say that Teddy is the only non-magical creature which joins Ash for bedtime.

Right now the most frequently requested lullaby is still the most recent version of Castle on a Cloud, which goes like this:

I have a castle on a cloud
I like to go there in my sleep
Aren’t any rooms where I can’t sneak
Not in my castle on a cloud

There is a room that’s full of toys
There are a hundred boys and girls
Nobody shouts or talks too loud
Not in my castle on a cloud

There is a lady I call Mommy
She holds me close, and dotes upon me
She’s nice to see, and she’s soft to touch
And she says, “My Prince, I love you very much!”*

I know a place where no one’s scared
I know a place where no one fights
Nightmares at all are not allowed
Not in my castle on a cloud

*The end of this line is usually whispered directly into his ear, or accompanied by lots of kisses all over his face, or delivered with silly vocals, or something of the like.