AUTISM ALERT - free printable

I am blessed that in our home autism has not significantly compromised the safety of our family members, but many families with an autistic loved one have to make plans for emergencies.

One thing I'd not really thought about was alerting emergency responders to the fact that a person with autism is present.

The more I think about it, the more I can see how essential it would be to be able to let a police officer entering your home know that a person with autism lives there. That they may not respond to verbal commands. They may be non-compliant THROUGH NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN.

I think about the urgency of letting responders to a car accident know that an  person with autism may have been in the car. That they may resist help, or they might have run away and be hiding in nearby bushes or buildings.

I have seen alerts available, most requiring ordering ( & payment) and shipping.

I have made a free printable and I am more than happy for you to share it far and wide, sharing is caring xxx

CLICK HERE to go to the free PDF download, hosted through a safe file storage Mediafire. ( the pic here is just to show you what it looks like, not high enough resolution for printing) 

I have made two sizes, one that is about half the size of a piece of A4 paper, perfect for putting at the front door to alert visitors and a smaller version that could go in a car window without obstructing driving vision. Print them out and laminate them. 

Given with love x

World Autism Day - The Carnival Ride

Today Is World Autism Awareness Day.

Not only do we want to raise awareness amongst the greater community about the challenges of living with Autism, we also want to take today to reflect on the joy and wonder that Autism brings to our world.

A couple of years ago I wrote a post about how it feels to find yourself parenting a child with ASD.
I am re-posting it today, for Autism Awareness.

Like so many young romantic couples, we bought tickets to go on the Carousel.

Many of our friends had already gone on it and said it was great. It looked like fun and we could afford it. We had to wait in line, but we had friends waiting too, so it was a good, gossipy wait, talking about what it would be like.

When we finally got through the gates, none of our friends were near us.The ride started and almost immediately, we realised that we were on the wrong ride.

Our seats didn't look like the other seats, and the cars banged and crashed and made weird noises. The seat belts pinched and I felt the first tentacles of fear sneaking into my heart.

A man popped out in a white coat and told us we were on the Monster Crash Roller Coaster. He smiled in a detached way and sent us through the big swinging doors.

  ***************

The Roller Coaster is not at all like the Carousel. It is unpredictable, frightening and fast. There are exhilarating highs and stomach churning free-fall drops. There is always a jagged corner hurtling towards you and you never really know where you will go next. You can't hear anyone else because there is so much other noise, and sometimes you actually scream in true fear.

Even with someone sitting right next to you, there are moments when you feel totally and desperately alone. 

You can see the carousel in the distance, with it's pretty lights and gentle well groomed ponies.

Your friends are watching you, as you fly through the air, hair tangled, clothes askew. You can't explain to them why you aren't sitting nicely or why you need to hang on so tight. You know from where they sit, you look wild eyed and out of control. You wish you were sitting on a happy little pony, not this monster ride. 

You start to worry that you will not make it to the end. You worry the safety rail will fly open, that your car will derail. You forget to breath. Your stomach churns and your fingers ache with the effort of holding on.You close your eyes and wish for it to be over, to be different.

But then... you stop and really concentrate.  Your heart is leaping, not only in fear but also in the most incredible joy. You are starting to anticipate the climb and then the drop. You learn to hang on tight in the scary bits, and you open your eyes and really look at the world from the very peak of the steep climbs.

The world looks so different up here, and none of those people on the Carousel can possibly see the world from this angle. 

They have no idea how beautiful it can be up here. 

At the last climb and free fall, you are grinning, eyes wide open. 

As you reach the peak, you let go of the safety bar and raise your hands over your head and welcome the rush.

  ***************

　
The ride slows down and we turn to each other, grinning from ear to ear. No, it wasn't the Merry-go-round ride we anticipated. It was so, so much more.

We have since then ridden on the Carousel. It is fun and wonderful too. But there is always a special place in our hearts for the Roller Coaster... what a ride.

Oh Happy Day

Every parent wants their child to have the ability to support themselves. I'll be honest, there were times where I secretly doubted that was possible for our boy. 

Times in the muddy swamp land of school days with undiagnosed Aspergers syndrome, when I just despaired. 
When he couldn't even remember two sequenced instructions and follow through ( not even on the first one!)
When his Grade 6 teacher told us he was never going to amount to anything..(yes he actually said it, in front of J-man)
When he was so sad and negative about himself I didn't even know if he would be here by the end of his cruel teen years.
When he got left behind, so far behind in basic reading and writing that in the end teachers told me he was really just coming to school to learn social skills.

Amazingly, and yet not so surprisingly, J-man has laughed off all of that.
He learned to read and write when he was good and ready. 
He found a small but loyal group of friends at school and decided that he was just fine the way he was, and everyone else could just get over it.
He figured out the value of remembering instruction very quickly in Army Cadets when not remembering earned you a bawling out and extra duties.

He rolled with the punches dealt by the Australian Unemployment system which is a deceptive and unsupportive mess. He put his resume out there over and over, applied for countless jobs, shook hands, nodded his head and put on a brave face with every knock back. For 18 months he has tried and tried and tried again.


This week we had exciting news.
Big!
Huge!
Jumping up and down in the kitchen with my mother, squealing and crying kind of news.

J-man has been offered ( and has accepted ) a four year apprenticeship in Carpentry and Joinery.
A local builder gave him a 4 week trial and was happy enough with what J-man did to offer to take him on.

We are so grateful that this opportunity is here, that J-man was able to focus and shine. The builder loves that he has got to work early every single day, and works til stumps. He loves J-mans attention to detail, that he likes to work on a task until it is perfect ( hello Aspergers!) and that J-man is eager to learn. He likes him. 

We are already seeing changes in J. He walks a little taller, he has more self confidence when talking with his mates about plans for the future. He's concerned about the aesthetic street appeal of our house and is considering replacing the old window frames in the lounge room.

He's going to be okay. 

Oh Happy Day!

Thankful Thursday - He passed

A quick post for Thankful Thursday.

A picture (slightly blurry and he refused a re-shoot) says it all.

J-man Passed.

Yay!


Linking up with Francesca for Thankful Thursdays

The Australian Government and how to break a family - IBOT

So J-man finished school at the end of last year and in the 8 months since, has taken his resume and cover letters to every business in our small city. He has gone everywhere from plumbers and electricians to the pet shop and the funeral home.
Nope, the answer at most places is.. "we don't take resumes directly, you have to go through the agencies".

Excellent, lets do that shall we.

NO WE SHALL NOT !

The Man I Married and I work, bloody hard, to provide for our family. With four kids, a mortgage and school fees the cost of living is high. Luckily my man has a strong work ethic and often puts in 60 hours a week to provide for us.

Mr Centrelink says we earn too much.  He also says that J-man will be judged based on our income until his 21st birthday. We are penalised for trying to pay off our own home and for staying married.

What this means is J-man cannot register with Centrelink as unemployed. He hasn't actually asked for a cent, just acknowledgement of his unemployed status. The Centrelink system won't let him register unless he is entitled to a benefit and he doesn't qualify for a benefit.

NO ! says Centrelink.
If Dad would just kindly give up his job, or even better, move out, we can give you all the help you need.

But as long as Mum and Dad stay married, and as long as they are honest hard workers, you, my boy cannot have that status. Legally Mum and Dad are financially responsible for J-man (and our other kids) until their 21st birthday. There is no youth allowance or work-seekers help for kids of parents who work hard.

Without the Unemployment status, none of the employment agencies are allowed to assign him a case manager to help him. He's on his own. Furthermore, the exclusive Job seekers network where so many employers advertise their jobs is not available to him... Employers who are tempted by lovely government subsidiaries to employ someone out of the Unemployment sector.

So let me say it. Yes Australia is a good country, we have plenty, but we have a sucky, stupid system that continually punishes those who work hard and actively encourages families to break up, to give up.

I am so angry and disheartened I am finding it hard to type. We always told our kids to have a good work ethic and to put in 110%. I guess we should have told them to do a half arsed job, not commit to anyone and lie on their applications.

If anyone has any ideas. please bring them on, I am at my wits end, J-man is demoralised and I want to picket my local member of parliament for the unfairness of it all.

He's old enough to die for his country, to father a child or go to adult prison, but Centrelink still bases everything on the parents until they turn 21. What about that makes sense ?

Sorry to have such a negative post for IBOT

You will always know -Advocating

Shoved against a wall, by a man three times his size, defenceless, wordless and shaking with fear.

One day when J-man was in Grade One, not quite 7 seven yrs old, his regular teacher was away for the day. He had a substitute teacher that day, a well respected, old school guy with years of experience.

I was waiting for the home bell to sound, watching the class play a last minute game of scuttle-ball. As the bell sounded the teacher called the winning team (J-mans team) and sent the kids to collect their bags.
J-man was so excited by his teams victory, the excitement and hype of an energetic ball game and by the fact that a long school day was finally over.
I watched as he grabbed a small soft plastic witches hat and scuttled it sideways across about 4 metres.
I watched as his substitute teacher grabbed him up by his little polo shirt collar, and rammed him up against the brick wall of his classroom, screaming in his face.
"You are just a naughty, nasty, little boy"
"You are bad"
"I've had enough of you today".

The teacher, fully 3 times the size of my little guy, with a military style buzz-cut, red, angry face and fists clenched thrust J-man aside and stalked off to collect the other sports gear.
I was so stunned I didn't even absorb what I had seen.
J-man cried.
I got his bag, and waited for the teacher, who addressed me with the same level of anger and scorn.
"Are you the mother? Did you see what he did? I should have known you'd take his side. He could have killed someone there !" (Yeah! with a soft plastic witches hat and all his 6 yr old strength!)

I took my little boy home, cried and wondered what to do next.

The next day I was at the school early to speak with the regular teacher. For some reason I still couldn't comprehend what I saw, what I heard.
I felt silly for making a fuss... (let me tell you now, if I saw that sort of shit now I would rip his lungs out before the witches hat fell to the ground, but I was young, scared and overwhelmed :-)

I told the teacher what had happened, what I'd witnessed, that my little boy had cried himself to sleep and wet his pants in fear that the 'angry yelling man' would be back again the next day.
I told her I didn't want to make trouble.
And she stopped me there.
She told me the most important thing anyone has ever told me. The most essential thing that I have clung to and held to my heart since that day.

She said,

Twenty years from now, these teachers, this principal, will not remember your name. 
But you will always know, forever, that you stepped up and advocated for your child.

From a truly awful experience came the most important words.

If you have a child, special needs or not, there will be moments where you are called to step up and make a fuss, or to be quiet and tell your child it is okay to be treated in such a way.

Have you hit that point in your parenting when you have had to choose to make a fuss?

Knowledge is power

A small boy holds a lump of gray plastic up to his teacher.

"Do you know what this is ?" he asks earnestly.
Teacher smiles and answers "Yes J-man, it's a shark!"

photo source - saucy sprinkles xxx

Small boy tries again.. "But do you know what sort of shark it is?"
Teachers tips head to the head thoughtfully and replies, "well, I think it is a great white shark."

Small boy states urgently:
"No actually, it is a Nurse shark, which isn't the same as a grey nurse shark. It's a bottom dwelling shark, found  on shallow reefs and mangroves swamps in sub-tropical waters. It is a nocturnal hunter and eats mainly crustaceans, molluscs, tunicates, sea snakes, and other fish, particularly stingrays."

Teacher smiles vacantly and nods head.

The small boy knows she didn't 'get it'

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

As each of our kids reaches the end of Yr 6, The Man I married and I take just that one child away for a few days. A few days when they have us all to themselves, when they call the shots and when we, as parents get to really focus on the new teenagery adult who is emerging. It is always a revelation, exciting and a true delight.
My wonderful parents have come each time and house-sat (we can't call it babysitting -very 'not-cool' to be Babysat for the remaining children, we just explain Nanna and Pop are house-sitting and almost as a side interest, making sure the other three kids stay alive for the week).

We took J-man to Queensland and ALL he wanted to do was go to Seaworld and see the sharks.

The plane -ho-hum
The hired car -ho-hum
The flash apatrment -ho-hum

The entrance to seaworld - Exciting.
The penguin display meant the sharks were nearby

Then the absolute havana
The underground shark viewing cave.





This photo of Sea World is courtesy of TripAdvisor

Down we went into a concrete cave
and the little boy who held my heart came alive..
Several school groups had come to Seaworld that day.

Our sweet boy, so sure of his information and authority gave impromptu lectures to these school groups for over an hour.
Pointing out sharks who camouflage on the seabed in the sand and their plans when some yummy food strolls by.
Talking about how sharks use all their senses to find their prey and how they show their alertness.
Calmly explaining that the people who had paid for a 'diving with the sharks experience" were in no danger as a) the sharks had already been fed ... and
 b) The divers didn't resemble any of the sharks known prey.



This photo of Sea World is courtesy of TripAdvisor



The man I married and I found a seat at the back of the cave. We settled down and watched him share his passion.

And when he had enough,  he just walked out like it was no big deal.

If you asked me to speak, spontaneously to 4 or 5 groups of young kids for an hour I would be beside myself, worrying that I wasn't enough, that my knowledge wasn't enough.
My boy, my sweet boy just knew he was
ENOUGH

And he was.

He still is. 

Happy 19th birthday J-man
xxx 

We are all abnormal - Light it up Blue

We are all abnormal in some way.

 Which really makes us all totally normal.

The month of April is Autism Awareness month.
In our home we are aware, daily of the effects of Autism.
And yet, in our home, we forget that 'autism' is a frowned upon diagnosis.
We have been blessed with 4 gorgeous kids, each quirky in their own unique way. To some, more than one may be slip-sliding on the spectrum.
To others none of our children fit the 'autistic' profile.

To us, our kids are all 'normal', they are all we've known. There are differences, like in any family, but because these are our kids and we have been living and breathing the spectrum for all this time, often we forget it is not 'normal' for everyone'
Until our son sells his shoes at the pub.

or gives impromptu lectures at seaworld.

Until a 'friend' tells me he should be in a group home.
Until someone points out that our normal is not 'normal'.

Research shows that about 1 in 100 children, almost 230 000 Australians, have an Autism Spectrum Disorder and that it is more prevalent in boys than girls. 


This year we are striving not only for awareness but also for acceptance. For all who slip'n'slide along the spectrum, and for the families and support people who are trying their very best to give their ASD person the best the world can offer.

Please join me this April as we open our hearts and minds in acceptance of all the blessings in our world.
Even the ones who now have no shoes.

xxxx

Going barefoot

Aspie boy has a tight-knit group of loyal friends who simply accept him for who he is, quirks and all. He went to the pub with his mates on Friday night.  

As he is an adult, I have been relegated to the back row, worrying from afar that he will be safe but by 4am I was wide awake and starting to get agitated..... I had told him to ring me when he was ready to come home, and so far, no call.

Finally, thankfully, I heard him shuffling up the driveway, heard the gate rattle as he climbed over it, and listened as he tried to unlock the back door (several attempts were needed before success).
I sighed, rolled over and went to sleep, happy now my boy was home.

In the late morning he emerged from his room.
"I don't have any shoes"
Huh???
"Well you must have, you walked home"
He chuckles .."No, I walked home in socks. But I have more money than when I went out. 
I'm pretty sure I sold my shoes at the pub."

I'm not sure who got taken advantage of - Aspie boy who was left without shoes, or the poor shmuck who paid $20 for a 2 year old pair of Kmart sneakers.

Aspie boy is happy. Barefoot, but happy.

photo credit link

The rebellious period

I am still waiting for the rebellious period.

You know, the one that all teen boys are supposed to go through. When they are all broody and secretive and just grunt at you. When they stay in their caves and only emerge for food.
I'm waiting for it because that rebellious period.. I'm told.. is what I as a parent need to experience to be ready for him to leave my safe little nest.
The stretching of the independent wings, and with it my patience, should be what readies me to gently nudge my offspring out of the cradle so to speak. 

Gorgeous image from http://hdwallpaper.ws/14956/

                                               
Except that in our case, there is no stretching...yet.

For the most part, my 18yrs 9 months old aspie boy is a kind, helpful person who is respectful to me, tells me where he is going.. In fact, if he got really silly this evening I could actually send him to bed at 6.30pm and HE WOULD GO! 

All around us, his peers are packing and preparing to leave home, whether they are heading for University or jobs far afield. I am reminded that by his age, I was living in a flat 500km away from my parents, working 5 days a week and caring for myself.
The Man I Married left home at 16 and by 18 he was a seasoned professional! He was street wise and savvy. I am not seeing much "street-wiseness" in J-man. He is delightful, but still very young in his choices and decisions.
So this week I am unsure of the path this will follow. By now he should be champing at the bit to get away from parental control, but he isn't.
He should be eager to be away from our prying all-seeing eyes, but he isn't.
He should be grunting and obnoxious, but he isn't.

I am grateful for the reprieve.
I am fearful it will never come.

Flashback Friday - 1st days of school

This week my three girls have returned to school, new classrooms, classmates and teachers. 

Normally this time of year has me on my knees with worry. The organisation that goes in to re-launching kids at school is enough.. but the effort needed to re-launch an Aspergers child into school is immense !

In the past...

After 6 weeks of worry and nerves about new routines, new teachers and new expectations, this week would have been planned with military precision.
We would have written a letter to the new teacher over the holidays and hopefully received one in return. We would have had a few 'meet and greet' sessions, some getting-to-know-you sessions. There would have been planning meetings between myself, the teacher, aides, principal, applied learning co-ordinator, welfare officer and everyone else who wanted to have an opinion. 

We would have been practising wearing our new school shoes - well actually practicing keeping our shoes on for more than 10 minutes. We would have have some packed lunch days so the lunch box opening was practiced. Throughout the holidays we would have continued our learning objectives, so there was minimal backsliding.

I would have sat down with a glass of wine and a pen and paper. I would try to explain J-man within a page, give a brief overview. Highlight his strengths. Alert the teacher to his worries and idiosyncrasies  I would encourage them to have a look through his very thick file of reports before we arrived for the first day of school.

On the first day back to school, J-man would be teary and not want to go. He would be angry with me for making him go. I would be as positive and encouraging as a new age birthing coach.. all in order to get one small boy to go to school. I would then come home, sick to the stomach and wait....

Last year J-man completed Yr 12. His days in formal education have finished, at least for now. This week has been a breeze. Not a tummy ache or headache, no melt downs, no lunch box mishaps. The girls went off to their new classes happily. All is well. For the first time in 13 years our house has not been on high alert for return to school week. It's been nice.

It's been nicer than nice. I feel like there's room to breathe. 

J-man - Prep year .. how cute is he ??

Flashback Friday - linking up with  The Camera Chronicles .... join in guys.. you know you want to!!

New beginnings

Hello everyone !!!

We arrived back on Aussie soil on Saturday after a truly blissful week away from reality. The kids were fine and Nanna and Pop did an awesome job keeping the home fires burning without burning the home down !!! Our welcome home was gorgeous, although I am going to be honest and say the HAPPIEST to see us was the two dogs, they were over the top, back flipping, hooley dooley, don't ever leave us again, yippy-yappy excited!

Since arriving home life has taken on a craziness that is great in a stressful "OMG what was I thinking" kind of way. I have finally commenced nursing in an acute ward, and have had my first three shifts this week - 1st on Monday, then Tuesday Overnight and again yesterday afternoon. Finally I am using those skills I have worked so hard to learn...  I am also experiencing brand new situations and thinking "ARRGGGHHHH what do I do???" The whole shift is like being on an adrenaline rush of hyperalertness, coupled with absolute certainty that I have forgotton something crucial.
I love the challenge even though I am also terrified by it, I am told the worry will ease as I gain experience. In the meantime, each shift leaves me exhausted as I try to rearrange my brain into some kind of normal thinking pattern.
Luckily the house is very, very quiet while the kids are at school so I can just BE in my own thoughts.

However, something new is brewing on the horizon and I am a wee bit excited... next week is my J-man's very last week at school. If you've been reading this blog for a while you will know that his schooling has been Bloody. Hard. Work. (If you're new here, read this for a little background).

From very early on I have said to each teacher "If we can just get him to the end of Year 12 and he still likes himself I'll be happy"... And as I type this with actual tears on my cheeks, I am realising that we have achieved exactly that.
The end is merely days away, and he has grown into a gorgeous, self assured, kind, giving adult who likes himself and doesn't feel the need to change to suit anyone else. He doesn't apologise for his quirkiness, he is aware of it but just assumes that others will accept him and go with it.. and mostly they do! He has friends around the world on his XBox live (best thing he has ever had access to .BEST thing ever!) He has solid friends here in our town. He has a set of core values that he sticks to unwaveringly and he assumes the best of every person until proven otherwise.

I have no idea what the future holds for him, whether the career path will eventuate. I don't know when, if or how he will form romantic relationships, build friendships with others, earn money or live fully independantly.

I do know he likes himself. I know he is a good person. I know you couldn't get a more loyal friend than him. I know he doesn't play mind games or offer anything he hasn't got. He's straight down the line & honest to a fault.

We got to the end of Year 12 and he still likes himself. I am happy

Pink Pegs

Most days I pass as quite normal.
Most days I manage to keep my own aspie tendancies under control.
But then I get run-down. Sick or tired, or simply sick and tired.
Today I feel a bit crappy.
My eyes are gritty and swollen. Every sound seems to be echoing down a mine shaft to my ears. My throat is sore and my brain seems to have been replaced with very fine cotton wool.

On those days, maintaining normal is harder.
Those are "pink peg" days.

I hate hanging clothes on the line.
Not because of the effort or because its cold outside. Not because I'm sick of doing it or because there is a never ending pile of washing in need of hanging.
No
I hate hanging washing because it is nearly impossible to make it look neat and uniform.
I am quite happy to hang 20 cloth nappies (diapers).. -  5 to each line, evenly spaced little white flags in the breeze.
I will hang towels, although I dislike when they are different sizes and colours, but I absolutely hate-hate-hate the hotchpotch mix of clothes from large adult size down to small 8 yr old, mismatched socks, different school uniforms, girly pink alongside grunge green............
There is no order to the line. No system and no rhythm.
Even more frustrating, it is impossible to buy cloths pegs all the same colour ( unless they are wooden which is not good as they rot in the Victorian winter)

On days like today, to feel calm and bring some very small degree of order, I pick out all the pink pegs.

If I have to I can dedicate a quadrant of the line to a colour, pink pegs, white pegs, yellow pegs and purple pegs.

I cannot figure out where teen boy gets his Aspergers from .

And then they grow.......

My big boy went on his first Army cadet camp this weekend. (its actually called a bivowack bivawac bivowac Bivawac but clearly I can't spell that word so we are going to call it a camp).
He is a (very) late starter in Army cadets, but all he wants to do is join the Army and the Army don't see his potential yet, they see a young teenage boy with Aspergers who needs some life experience.
So he has joined the Cadets and plans to use the 20 months he can legally be in them as a spring board for the full time Regular Army,
( in answer to your questions -
                                                  *yes he still has Aspergers, it doesn't go away when they become adults                                        *yes I'm terrified about the Army but have you ever tried to steer an Asperger person away from their chosen topic of interest? Impossible
                                                 *Yes we could have let him apply for the Army and not mentioned Aspergers.. in hindsight that may have been a better plan, but we believe in being honest and proud of ALL he is, not just the "socially acceptable" bits )

So he went on camp on Friday evening, so handsome in all his army gear ........... squeeee...

Do you remember when your kid was a newborn and they gave you their very first real smile. Do you remember the ache of love that came with that moment, when you felt like your heart was squeezing itself inside out. Those feelings come thick and fast in the first few years as that tiny blob of newborn becomes a little person, toddling and talking and hugging and blowing kisses. The first few years are exciting with so much change and so many new experiences.

I know as my kids have got older I thought that most of those "heartsqueeze" moments were over.
And yet here I am again, looking at this ADULT who is so cute and ready for whatever happens and I can't believe he's mine.

He had a great time at camp, came home exhausted but happy, ready for the next one in a couple of weeks.

That's my boy

SIGH

put simply

School assignment aspergers style

He is doing an unit on the current WorkSafe ads. He has chosen the ad with the young girl in the bakery.



The questions are simple.

Who is this ad aimed at?
His answer - "idiots with no common sense"
I re-read the question and tell him the teacher wants reference to gender and age group.
He re-writes his answer- " 18yrs  female idiots with no common sense"

Will this ad have an impact on your work practices?
His answer - "no because I'm not an idiot,  also I don't have a job in a bakery" 

How does this ad get your attention?
His answer- "screaming, blood and the thought of fingers in your bread"

Do you think television advertising is an effective way of reaching the target audience?
His answer - "yes because practically no-one listens to radio these days and you can't show blood on radio, plus if you go into a bakery to buy bread and heard that ad playing in the shop, you probably wouldn't want your bread anymore".

I explain that the teacher is expecting a bit more. He tells me that this is how he operates. Straight to the point. And what's the point in making up sentences to say the same thing three times in a paragraph.
I try to explain that the point would be the teachers have asked for at least 1 paragraph on each point.
He tells me he will place a space between them and 'voila' it's a paragraph albeit a short one.

I am tired.
He knows this.
He says "Don't worry mum, the teachers know how I work. If they want to know more they'll ask me" .

Describing a dog... ASD post

Parentville for Aspergers Syndrome and the whole Autism Spectrum Disorder realm is a curious place to dwell.


I have had people tell me my son is very typical of the behaviours, I have had others say there is "absolutely no way" that my gorgeous boy fitted the profile. People who have a loved one with ASD have judged, using their own loved one as the measuring stick. I have heard the words "He's not bad enough", "you are making this worse than it is", " He is nothing like my nephew" and "if he's not rocking in the corner, it's not autism".


The fact is there is nothing typical about kids and adults who slip and slide along the ASD spectrum. Issues which are ISSUES for one may be completely irrelevant for another. One may be verbally non-communicative but a musical genius, another will talk and talk and talk and talk but has zero musical ability or interest. One might find water of all kinds fascinating and another freaks out at the mere mention of a bath. One will eat everything in sight including chalk and dirt while another may have impeccable eating manners but only consume foods which are green. 


Humour me and picture in your head a dog. Got it? okay... now lets describe it...






We've got four legs, ears, nose, mouth, waggy tail and says "Woof". So far so good.
Hmm.... experts and 'experts' want more information. the questions keep coming.......


Is it tiny like a Chihuahua or enormous like a St Bernard?
Does it have long fur like a Red Setter, curly fur like a Poodle or short hair like a Pug?
Does its ears stand up tall like a German Shepherd or do they droop to its shoulders like a Beagle?
Does its bark break windows or does it just whine and use sad eyes to communicate?
Does it jump into the river for a swim or does it cry and shake like a leaf at bath time?
Does it run around with boundless energy all day or does it sleep 23.5 hours out of 24?
Does it eat anything and act as the family vacuum cleaner or is it fussy and prefers top of the range princess doggy food.
Does it chase anything that moves and retrieve balls, toys and small animals or does it look confused and just raise an eyebrow when you ask it to fetch.




Chances are when you pictured a dog in your mind, you pictured your dog, or a dog you know. But your dog doesn't look like or behave like my dog.

My experience of a dog is a very neurotic black mini poodle who thinks she's a cat, who never goes outside by choice and who's best friend is a bossy kitten.
My friends experience of a dog is a Border Colly who has never been inside the house, who chases kittens for sport and who takes gleeful delight in ripping apart outdoor furniture.

But they are both dogs. They look, behave and respond nothing like each other, but they are both dogs.


I'm pretty sure you understand my point here but I'll say it anyway. Just like everything else in life there are variations and in ASD there can be enormous variations.


Please take care to not judge by comparison. Parents of these kids have struggled through the diagnosis process, they have filled out countless forms, assessment tools, questionaires and profiles. They have had every aspect of their parenting and family life scrutinized to ensure that the childs behaviour is not due to lack of discipline or focus. They have had so many meetings with teachers, occupational therapists, speech therapists, doctors and psychologists, they too have wondered in the wee small hours if they have imagined all the problems. They have had moments of sheer panic as they face all the questions of "what if" and "what now"? The very last thing they need, after they have found their peace with their childs diagnosis, is for someone to question this diagnosis and the motivation behind it.
Be respectful.
Be gentle.
Be supportive and be open to new experiences and concepts.
If you can't do that then please
Be quiet.

AUTISM Why I Need to Label My Child

Many times on our road to diagnosis I was asked,

"Why do you want to label your child?"

First let me rephrase your rude, insensitive and out of line question.

I don't WANT to label him. I want this whole bloody mess to be not happening. I want some normal. I want sleep. I want help.
No mother WANTS to spend hours in Doctors rooms trying to convince her already over-stressed, over-stimulated and over-analysed kid to 'just do his best'.
No mother WANTS to have her stomach hit the floor every time the school rings to report on her kid's latest social blunder.
No mother WANTS to dry the tears when her kid is the only one not invited to a party,or when the school suggests he not go on the end of year excursion.
No mother WANTS to rock him as he cries himself to sleep again, with her heart breaking and another day of the same crap coming up tomorrow.

Let me tell you why I NEED to label my child.

Without a label he is just naughty.
Without a label he is just disruptive.
Without a label he is just anti-social.
Without a label he is just disorganised and lazy.

Without a label he is without support or understanding in the classroom and playground.
Without a label there is no FUNDING and
WITHOUT FUNDING there is NO FRIGGIN' HELP !!

Without a label the teachers have no guidelines, no strategies and no patience.
Without a label the principal won't speak to this mother.

If he does not have a label then he is just a little boy who sits in detention every day for not focusing, for not completing work, for lashing out at cruel kids, for refusing to look the teacher in the eye.

Yes, I need a label for my child.
Then maybe, the world will stop punishing him.
Maybe then he will be allowed to grow and flourish into an awesome young man.

Maybe, then, you will see what I see.




Photo snapped this morning by the gorgeous Madmother, with thanks xxx