tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16961332048243289362024-03-04T21:19:57.426-08:00Love, Life and Aspie AnticsPetuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-89433877805445764252013-07-09T15:31:00.000-07:002013-07-09T15:37:21.256-07:00What would you do...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwb19HsxwIG2UoY1b8KKreqcHVB6hNAd7o86exsToacU6aZf-6MXsK3XK8SrVilVssUnG4AGpOdkCRuWGBJYI8O346o4VA19pmB3_Hrg_NVeGYpRUhbTto2yT_GlbCeIbawpCa-ZwQvPD/s1600/312945_10151167708160348_1105582925_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwb19HsxwIG2UoY1b8KKreqcHVB6hNAd7o86exsToacU6aZf-6MXsK3XK8SrVilVssUnG4AGpOdkCRuWGBJYI8O346o4VA19pmB3_Hrg_NVeGYpRUhbTto2yT_GlbCeIbawpCa-ZwQvPD/s320/312945_10151167708160348_1105582925_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Like a relentless nagging whining child, a question keeps running through my head in the style of the National Lottery advertising campaign where we were asked <a href="http://www.lottery.ie/en/whatwouldyoudoforafewmillion/?vidid=3">what we would do</a> for a few million euro. Only its not money that my inner advertising guru is asking about. Its a chugging whirring demand to know if I would tightrope across the Grand Canyon, or go swimming with great white sharks wearing Lady Gaga designed swimwear, or something equally ridiculous that my mind thinks of but the end prize would be to have five minutes more. "What would you do for just five minutes more..."<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I would give pretty much anything or do anything to have a few more minutes to tell my Mum again that I love her. To hold her hand and kiss her and hear her voice just one more time. I miss her more than words can say and would love to turn the clock back and cherish the moments that I once took for granted. I can't though and no amount of ruminating and wishing will change that. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Before Mum passed away, I told her that we would all be ok. She had been delighted that I was finally moving back up to Dublin with Munchkin and as a family we would all be nearby for each other after she was gone, to support each other in sad and trying times and to celebrate and cherish happier times too. All the changes are terrifying but when I get scared or overwhelmed with what needs to be done, I can almost hear her voice telling me that its all going to be fine and to stop worrying. All I can do is to honour my promise to her to try to live life and enjoy it and to encourage the kids to do the same. To stop dwelling on the negative and instead of looking at what we don't have, to be happy about all that is good in our lives. I once asked her if she was not bitter and angry that she had become ill despite the fact she didn't smoke, rarely drank, exercised and took great care with her nutrition. To me it all seemed grossly unfair that she got this rare bone marrow disorder when she was so careful with her health. I asked did she not keep asking "why me??" and she told me that she did ask that for a while until one day the answer came to her when a voice in her thoughts replied "Why NOT me??" Said it took the bitter sting out of the tail of her anger. She told me that bad things can't always happen to "other people" and that you have to just pick yourself up and get on with the cards you've been dealt. I didn't appreciate how positive she actually was until she was gone, nor realise just how many lives she had touched and influenced until I could see the church filled to capacity with faces I'd long forgotten. She never forgot a face though and was an amazing people person, treating everyone equally. Whether you were a member of the cleaning staff at the hospital, or a consultant, you were all part of the intricate network of my mothers life. She made a point to talk to people and was genuinely interested in what they had to say. I struggle maintaining personal relationships and friendships as I've previously blogged about, but it came naturally to her. I'd love to be more like her though and am going to try really hard until its less difficult. I'm determined to work hard with Munchkin too as know its something that doesn't come easy to her either. September heralds the start of a new chapter in our lives when we move up to Dublin and she starts her new school. I can hear Mum telling me to "start as we mean to go on" so its time to stand tall and think of the challenges ahead in a positive manner and embrace the changes, whatever they may bring. To draw strength from the woman who fought a brave battle against interminable odds with courage and dignity, right to the very end. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7uW8W7QoCyL0OrbBUjXrzubxFZpBoZSjFmt04MHWDXM_LjigCSZEhFSU5UpsG5dtewaqBUeu_6Dg0teDfMs2kIaY6FaXRwawobhJxEWdht_MmwHTJ7Re-W35mzlSOMwxp4evWqJ8jqOM/s1600/2013-05-28+08.45.16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7uW8W7QoCyL0OrbBUjXrzubxFZpBoZSjFmt04MHWDXM_LjigCSZEhFSU5UpsG5dtewaqBUeu_6Dg0teDfMs2kIaY6FaXRwawobhJxEWdht_MmwHTJ7Re-W35mzlSOMwxp4evWqJ8jqOM/s320/2013-05-28+08.45.16.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know you loved this piece of writing and I will try my best to follow the words of it. But can you come visit me in my dreams and talk to me... just for five minutes more? Love you to the Moon and Back Mum xxx</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBun7HhzK5jYKU4pq51Ge-juCXQCsa8pmIPXr2mJzVfnR3NNMN_zkpSKng1Djg2p3jDIUAy5WcXQcMvPVpc6VoC2vWgGd6ZPIFgBWo24mniPP3jjtrj4HxUy2XareBaBivsB0mmxOmOfG/s1600/7061_10151738944335348_430930736_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBun7HhzK5jYKU4pq51Ge-juCXQCsa8pmIPXr2mJzVfnR3NNMN_zkpSKng1Djg2p3jDIUAy5WcXQcMvPVpc6VoC2vWgGd6ZPIFgBWo24mniPP3jjtrj4HxUy2XareBaBivsB0mmxOmOfG/s320/7061_10151738944335348_430930736_n.jpg" width="285" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-78574644008824168112013-02-14T19:18:00.001-08:002013-02-14T19:26:14.511-08:00If you fall over and break a leg, don't come running to me!In a very Irish manner and like most Irish mammies I find it difficult to emulate empathy. If you fall and hurt yourself, I will first look to find blame with you and see why you were stupid to let it happen, and then perhaps comfort you... As much as I want to be one of those fluffy parental figures who comfort without logic, I cannot be that person. I WILL seek to blame first and comfort later. It doesn't mean I love you less though, please believe that. I suffer from "Bob the Builder" syndrome and have an insatiable need to be liked and fix peoples problems which means that if there is something that I can give you or do, I will speak first, act next, and if I don't know the answer to your problem, pretend I know an answer which can give the impression that I'm a know it all jackass. A few times I was referred to as "The Oracle" and that boosted my self esteem no bounds. I'm no Oracle though, just a girl who knows how to google...<br />
<br />
<br />Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-71480314086374136222013-02-12T07:51:00.000-08:002013-02-12T09:46:01.523-08:00Looking Back to Move ForwardI'm struggling. Finding things very difficult the last six months or so. Not because of the kids or anyone else, just fighting my own demons and trying to keep the Dark Dog from the door. I've done an incredible amount of navel gazing trying to figure out and come to terms with who I am and why I am the way I am in an attempt to feel ok and have hurt people in the process, letting them feel that they are in part to blame for who I am today. Wounds have been opened and words said that can never be taken back or the hurt eased and that saddens me greatly as I truly don't believe any person is responsible for my depression. Well one person perhaps and I have to look in a mirror to see her.<br />
<br />
I was always considered a very easy going child. No trouble, loved by all who met me. If you look at my school reports I was described as a day dreamer who needed to apply herself more as was capable of doing better. There was never much effort to drift through academically as it came easy enough without too much effort. In other words, I was an intelligent quiet little girl who had a tendency to daydream. Musically I was naturally talented but lacked the desire to progress much to my teachers disgust and flitted from one instrument to another but never stuck with any long enough to master it. Huge potential and could learn anything that was put in front of me but without the desire to do so. Very capable student... needs to apply herself more. Story of my life really.<br />
<br />
When the transition to secondary school came I was given the best opportunities available and put into a private school. I have to admit I found it daunting and had huge difficulties fitting in and making friends so became a little bit of a loner. I became an easy target for the school bullies. I don't think that it was the buck teeth, the railway track braces or the plastic framed glasses that made me stand out but more my disposition and the pack could sense vulnerability. I didn't fight back nor stand up to them and won't go into great detail but it reinforced my sense of not belonging or not feeling right. Hindsight is a wonderful thing but I still ask was I bullied because I was different or did I become different because I was bullied? Its a chicken and egg question, one I'm not sure has an answer. By the time third year came I snapped and fought back and discovered that if you pretended to be confident or brash you were left alone. It isn't easy to admit then that I stood back and watched another girl be mercilessly bullied and never stood up for her. She's often in my thoughts though and have heard she's married and has a family and doing well now.<br />
<br />
From an early age I learned to pretend. A coping mechanism that has left me now wondering at 43 years of age who I really am? I've spent my life pretending and I'm tired, waiting to be caught out as a fraud is exhausting. Is it something we all do though? Most people who know me would describe me as a confident funny person who can be witty. They're the people who know me through social media and see the person I've portrayed and want them to see... My family would describe me as hard work. Difficult to get close to with a penchant for drama. I do attract drama into my life actually and most would find it hard to believe the things that have happened to me are true but if I were to write it all down many would think it belonged in the fiction aisle. I think I attract the odd and the dramatic though as I invite it into my life. The realisation that I find it difficult to feel emotions unless they're very strong, either upsetting or happy helps me to understand why I attract those situations in life that others seem to be able to avoid. A willingness and desire to believe what others tell me too often leaves me open to people exaggerating or filling me full of lies. I hate lies and liars intensely. Doesn't matter what the content of the lie is just the fact its not true fills me with a sick feeling in my stomach. Paranoia and distrust follow these penny dropping moments. I digress though...<br />
<br />
So what am I trying to achieve with this post. I guess its a bit like coming out of the closet. I'm not ok, and not sure if I ever was. like many others who suffer depression and other mental illnesses, you spend a huge amount of time trying to deny your own feelings as the world tells you to pull yourself together or its not alright to feel like that. Well I've decided it is ok to not feel ok and my feelings are my own and as valid as everyone elses. Perhaps the kids didn't lick their issues off just one stone? Its dawned on me recently that I'm feeling very lonely but that that doesn't marry well with the fact that I really am not that comfortable or sure I like people either. There, I said it. Its easier to have 100 superficial friendships where people don't know you well than have one friend that knows you, ugly side and all. Its not that I don't want friends, I just don't know how to be one and let people know the real me. Perhaps its a deep rooted fear of rejection or a lack of sense of self that was always there rather than something that was ever caused as such. All I know is that I want to feel connected and stop running but finding middle ground is hard. I love my family but I haven't let them in or get close to me and I hope they know its not that I won't, I just haven't been able to. I accept that I've been difficult and hope they love me enough to forgive me that and accept me for who I am, warts and all. In return I promise to try hard to be me, whoever that is xxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/BTLbR80pIqY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-16599493171375336742012-07-11T15:20:00.000-07:002012-07-11T15:33:40.953-07:00Pick Your Battles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimET92qedNSYJIlAABx6b-YUEKL1RT_goQ_oGKlEij8p5cPdEwBjnaLfC1yFIBTqtUGAd2RCbM90n4HHHBXRkAi1PpzOzXB9rmDEOMpV4Z2DIUnds1vyQu6T2ILM9Oce209hlWPTqdRkex/s1600/Picture0607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimET92qedNSYJIlAABx6b-YUEKL1RT_goQ_oGKlEij8p5cPdEwBjnaLfC1yFIBTqtUGAd2RCbM90n4HHHBXRkAi1PpzOzXB9rmDEOMpV4Z2DIUnds1vyQu6T2ILM9Oce209hlWPTqdRkex/s320/Picture0607.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Has it really been a year since I last blogged? I guess so...<br />
<br />
So what has dragged me out of hibernation and compelled me to put my thoughts on virtual paper tonight? Fighting. Virtual, cyber, internet bullying and scrapping. Thats what. I have previously waxed lyrical about the importance of social networking <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.ie/2009_08_01_archive.html">here</a>, <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.ie/2010_06_01_archive.html">here</a>, <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.ie/2009/09/night-to-remember.html">here</a> and <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.ie/2009/12/laughter-is-indeed-best-medicine.html">here</a> etc.... Yes its important and I still think its the best thing since Messrs Johnston Mooney & O'Brien took a knife to a loaf and packaged it but its not the bee all and end all of your World. Or at least it shouln't be...<br />
<br />
Over the last twelve months or so I have tried to pull back a little from spending so much time online. Yes, I still check Facebook at least ten times a day (mainly while I wait for the lights to change shussshhhh) but the days of having to trawl back through every post or check every friends page in case I "missed" something has long gone thankfully. You see, spending all your available time online has a major drawback. You spend less and less time with the people who matter most in your life, your family, your children and your flesh and blood friends. Unfortunately though, its a bit like an addiction isn't it? You think you'll miss out or not see something if you aren't online. While you're facebooking/tweeting/emailing/texting though, what are you missing going on right behind you in your kitchen/living room/playcentre/park/beach? (Yeah with iphones we log on everywhere) Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying don't have a cyber life as most of us know how very isolating and lonely it can be being a SN parent, our online friends are our support network, but just have a look at your usage and how its impacting your life... How many of us have been "busy" when our kids are trying to involve us in something, or look over and thank the "Silver Lining of ASD" that our little one plays happily by themselves so that we can read what someone has posted or offer a reply of support etc. Makes you think eh? The irony hasn't escaped me that my gorgeous daughter is playing with her Moshi Monster cards while I type this either. Yes, I'm guilty. As she doesn't go to sleep til gone midnight though I'm going to write my words down before sleep deprivation removes them once again from my addled mind.<br />
<br />
Ok so back to fisticuffs on the internet... What am I talking about? People slagging off children with disabilities, specifically Autism. Yep Autism is the A word. We've had the N word, the R word and other lettered words that have provoked great reactions from the public in the past (and present) but the current one appears to be to insult a person by calling them <i><b>autistic</b></i>. We saw in the last few days outrage over 50 Cents tweets in response to a person where he told them <i>"just saw your picture fool, you look autistic"</i>. Yep this was in response to being told to release the album or be shot again. I get he was angry and that was the insult he used to reply. Instead of apologising he compounded it by saying <i>"don't want no special ed kids on my timeline follow somebody else". </i> Nice going "Mr Cent". Way to alienate and fuel a generation of ignorant uneducated kids (I'm referring to some of his fans not children on the spectrum by the way) to think that people with Autism or any Special Needs are "lesser". Not cool at all dude. Hey, there is outrage though and gigs are being cancelled and Fiddy will learn the error of his ways through his pocket. Deservedly so. Social networking and people power at its best.<br />
<br />
Then you have the Facebook Pages... The hate pages, the rant pages and while they are disgusting at best, we go after them with the same tenacity as we do the likes of a public persona. Where admonishing and boycotting and blogging about the likes of Fiddy will hit him in the pocket, reacting to these hate pages does the exact opposite. It FEEDS them. Do you think that for a split second, some spotty arsed 16 year old lad looking for attention behind the anonymity of a computer screen is taking in anything you write in rebuttal of some vile comment they have posted? I see parent after parent pour their hearts out talking about their beautiful kids trying to change the opinion of the poster. Its not going to work though. You can't educate pork as they say. They posted it to get a reaction and they're getting exactly what they want. You may get one page taken down at a time, but twenty more vile b*stards are rubbing their hands thinking "wow, using autism really gets a response, what page can I create now to p!ss them off and wind things up". In an attempt to stop one page, its creating a snowball effect. In an attempt to protect our kids and change the World they live in, we are actually making it worse. I might not be popular for saying that but its my opinion. My advice is if you come across one of these pages, report it but don't engage with them. Put them on extinction as such. We need to pick our battles not go looking for more to fight. Haven't we enough to be fighting when it comes to services, entitlements etc? Walk away from the Internet Trolls, seriously.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLFJ-y10uLykgw3BLbJheeCQkybGTnXoxJpYNNyQKcOXJvZlUJDPlkC3j3FMCpujFdPmYcSMNvNVyDi7TdbBV4sSa1mDkIc0mqxj432AXmcWKLtcZ-hNXpc6QPNqwAc9b3TNx9l9CnJrE1/s1600/50Centdown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLFJ-y10uLykgw3BLbJheeCQkybGTnXoxJpYNNyQKcOXJvZlUJDPlkC3j3FMCpujFdPmYcSMNvNVyDi7TdbBV4sSa1mDkIc0mqxj432AXmcWKLtcZ-hNXpc6QPNqwAc9b3TNx9l9CnJrE1/s320/50Centdown.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I see the same people online every time I check in. Gearing up to fight the World and "make things better" for our kids. That's noble, but in spending all day fighting invisible people who frankly our kids will never know in real life, it would appear we've lost sight of making the World our children live in, <i>actually</i> live in, better. Seriously, whether you hate me for my opinion or not, I really don't care. I'm speaking up for our kids who want their Mom/Dad/Sister/Brother/Friend to get off the damn computer from time to time and just sit with them and watch tv, or play with them, or just be a physical presence beside them. Don't look back and regret time lost. And yes, I'll probably see you over on Facebook later but right now, I'm going to read books with Munchkin<br />
<br />
xxxPetuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-53563322772131274022011-07-16T06:49:00.000-07:002012-01-25T14:51:24.899-08:00My name is Petunia and I am a...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwn1pYYvgouJymFx8q2okjuWG_nzOxZm7C-FruyAxxBxStCe-TTzJ5QZyT5XkeF9iGAb0KpON8VWNE-hy56jEmXlW0RLeVR03KxJwcCkA5wCl3__q651NFsjtS9BachHVTdt8kQ62WxKf6/s1600/DSCF8268.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwn1pYYvgouJymFx8q2okjuWG_nzOxZm7C-FruyAxxBxStCe-TTzJ5QZyT5XkeF9iGAb0KpON8VWNE-hy56jEmXlW0RLeVR03KxJwcCkA5wCl3__q651NFsjtS9BachHVTdt8kQ62WxKf6/s320/DSCF8268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629966590872008402" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I'm thinking of joining AA... no, not Alcoholics Anonymous but Apple Anonymous! At last count in this house we had three iPhones, an iTouch and the latest addition to our family is the iPad. We love our technology in this household and if it was a choice of buying new clothes (I hate clothes shopping) or even buying nice food, a new gadget will win hands down EVERY time! They are not cheap by any means but<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfQG1rERwSUGufzkY2-SX5aJtmlbrDCPdoh-UaM_W5SLnd5p2DFyUz6H1ajEfA36yn0FyVo6SHFPPkW2Smw_s6Q-DIMc7aYSyR3WlbwVA0WjuoMwmqhEyTTCW0VDVniYCYGrjyHxTJIBw/s1600/OtterBox-iPad2-defender-case.jpg"></a> I'd stake that anyone who has one of these iOS will understand exactly where I'm coming from. Thankfully, now that most mobile operators are supplying them, its easy enough to get your hands on a free phone these days and just watch your usage to keep the cost of your monthly bill down.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sure there are doubters out there though that still believe that giving your child a piece of technology is akin to an electronic babysitter. Where sitting your child in front of a tv for hours a day watching cartoons isn't going to be hugely beneficial to them, there are huge advantages to having a device such as an iTouch. Munchkin has been using the apps on my phone for a couple of years now and I marvel at the ease she uses them. When we started, we used ABA Flashcards from <a href="http://kindergarten.com/">Kindergarten</a> as they were free for World Autism Day a couple of years ago (and incidentally are still free now) and wherever we were, she had access to them. Could you imagine lumping around boxes of cards to work while you're waiting for appointments? Eh no. There are some fantastic applications out there which are autism/speech delay specific. One that I saw grow from an idea to an award winning one is of course <a href="http://graceappforautismoniphone.blogspot.com/"> Grace App</a>. A fantastic communication app that helps not only children with Autism, but <i>any</i> child/adult with speech delay. There are countless numbers of people using this app now in place of or in conjunction with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Picture_Exchange_Communication_System">PECS</a>. Once again, which is easier to carry around for portability? A large bulky folder full of laminated and velcroed pictures, or a device that any child would be seen carrying? </div><div><br /></div><div>I could go on and on about the vast quantity of quality applications that are both fun and educational for the child to use but we'll be here all year... I have over 100 books stored on our devices for Munchkin to have at her fingertips. I "attended" an App Party on Facebook recently where developers gave away apps or discounted them heavily so we have dozens of fabulous educational apps now loaded up and ready to use. A special mention to two iPad apps that Munchkin loves now has to go to "<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/how-are-you/id401199822?mt=8">How are You?</a>" which is an interactive, brightly colourful book app that teaches about feelings and emotions through their stories, and "<a href="http://itunes.apple.com/ie/app/dexteria-fine-motor-skill/id420464455?mt=8">Dexteria</a>", a wonderful app that was developed by occupational therapists and helps improve fine motor skills through, tapping, pinching and the more advanced "write it" part of the program.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a social level, giving your child an iOS is not going to stop them interacting with other children. Look at any child with one in their hand and there's usually another one looking at what they're doing, sharing in the experience and comparing what they have on their own device. It gives them a common interest that they can talk about. Of course they're going to play games on it to but hey, that's helping hand-eye coordination right? </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7SK-RWyR3LLZ4Lw7J3iqWqoRwd9zTa_Uagxo5i033jULpTZC8UgHWcGRAQcHxUUTqUHUlrDkinKE6jB8NBBoF2NB6wNky6YJ5Zyfex0GZPHl42oFWO8OBb7Oo-JPV5kp2CMx-usg7_DJJ/s320/DSCF7227.JPG" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>If you do decide to take the plunge and get one of these iOS, some advice I would give you is to <b>get a good protective cover</b>! Munchkin has broken her screen twice on the iTouch but thanks to product replacement cover have managed to get new ones. My friend <a href="http://hammie-hammiesays.blogspot.com/2011/06/pictures-and-words.html">Lisa</a> recommended the <a href="http://www.otterbox.com/on/demandware.store/Sites-otterbox_us-Site?cid=gootemt11&gclid=CMTBysSNhqoCFZRX4QodR2iexw">Otterbox Covers</a> as has extensive experience with kids dropping or throwing the phones when she brings them into schools to train with Grace App. She recently had a stand at the <a href="http://hammie-hammiesays.blogspot.com/2011/06/pictures-and-words.html">Autism Show in London</a> and demonstrated <i>frequently</i> how well the covers work by throwing her own phone on the ground. I now have an Otterbox Reflex cover on my new phone and my iPad now sports a very robust Defender case. Both incidentally have hit the ground since and survived to tell the tale so I'm happy (no I didn't test them Lisas way, Munchkin dropped them!)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjo09st918SQWONRyb76FZW-i0utFlcVvGtwCCICC-K_8J1Yo8l-pRZ9yokLsk270584T_erYp_qURfUbiV3Fz73Nk3gHR6WEgrGUfF6IPHTtFWFUksIysRfRKEEfV_eDNGoZgiVxEjzQ/s200/OtterBox-iPad2-defender-case.jpg" /></div>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-72868842661206299472011-05-31T01:57:00.000-07:002011-05-31T03:45:21.071-07:00From both sides of the fence... I'm Angry<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLCS4A-tRByt3Y0gR0HyWG5Hfx6ip1yVKEkCgPwqKpY-tcgUJHwo5cR2GcOrvsc4nOrkXt6m2naFa9xvwofhT-DoRMGASme29FQ4TRvEg17S_R4Tp4C-zVgx_D8lAdEZEXU-N9rU7UjNU/s1600/axe-hatchet.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLCS4A-tRByt3Y0gR0HyWG5Hfx6ip1yVKEkCgPwqKpY-tcgUJHwo5cR2GcOrvsc4nOrkXt6m2naFa9xvwofhT-DoRMGASme29FQ4TRvEg17S_R4Tp4C-zVgx_D8lAdEZEXU-N9rU7UjNU/s320/axe-hatchet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612814793060904066" /></a><br />I woke up this morning feeling like two of the Seven Dwarfs... a little bit <span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Dopey</i></span> due to the confusion as to why our Government has let the most vulnerable in our society down, but more <span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Angry</i></span> (I'm using creative licence here... Angry/Grumpy right?) at the state of affairs that was highlighted in <a href="http://www.rte.ie/player/#v=1099615">Primetime Investigates</a> last night. For those who haven't seen the program, watch it <a href="http://www.rte.ie/player/#v=1099615">here</a> and be prepared to cry and get angry too. If there was a dwarf called "<span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Lucky</i></span>" I would consider myself that one too.<div><br /></div><div>I'm one of the lucky ones, my children don't have the extensive care needs that others I have met and know over the last few years have. I'm lucky that my little girl has progressed and will go to mainstream this September. I'm lucky that I have good friends and family that have supported me along this journey. I feel sick to the stomach that I've bemoaned my lot when seeing what others have to deal with on a daily basis due to the chronic neglect from our powers that be. I'm lucky and very thankful that I've been equipped and able to provide my child with services that were never forthcoming. Others are not so fortunate.</div><div><br /></div><div>I recently contacted my Autism Liaison Nurse for help. I haven't pushed for assistance up to now as was fobbed off with the "cutbacks" line but being a single parent and having to go into hospital for a week for a hysterectomy, I felt it wasn't a <b>want</b> help situation but a <b>need</b> help one. The line I was given was that to give me help, others that need it more would suffer as they'd have their hours cut as there was nothing in the budget left. I was angry and wrote a letter to the ALN and her superiors asking for a response in writing. That was over two weeks ago and guess what... no response. After watching the program last night, it made me cry that its people like this that they are suggesting taking hours from. </div><div><br /></div><div>I provide home support myself as work for the HSE (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Health_Service_Executive">Health Service Executive</a>) and although I've given them ample notice of the three months I need to take off after the operation, they will not be replacing me while I'm off recovering, the family I work with will lose the hours I provide until I return in September. This disgusts, worries and upsets me and has left me feeling that I personally have let them down. I know many carers and health care attendants that harbour this feeling of frustration and upset at letting their clients down when in fact its the pen pushers and management of our health services that should be hanging their heads in shame, not us. Its impossible not to feel responsible though when you see the family you work with run themselves ragged caring 24 hours a day for their children, with minimal support that they have had to beg and fight for. Who is going to care for the carer when they have physically and emotionally burnt out?</div><div><br /></div><div>Guidelines were passed down recently to all HCAs working with children denoting the new regulations... For years we have not been allowed to drive the children we work with, we are not allowed to feed them if they're peg fed (highly unworkable as if the parent is in another county at hospital with another of the children what do you do? Let them starve to make sure the HSE isn't legally responsible? eh no...) The newest regulation is that any HCA working with a minor cannot be left alone with them and its up to the parent to ensure that another adult is present at all times with the carer. It defeats the purpose of respite and support if the parent has to remain while you work. If there was a family member or other adult that could be present, there wouldn't be the need for the HCA there... Is this what the pen pushers are aiming for? If there is a non HSE adult available to be there the next question for the parent will by why do they need support if they have someone who can come in? Can hear the axe swinging as I type this...</div><div><br /></div><div>Between cutbacks in community care and our health service, and caps on <a href="http://www.into.ie/ROI/NewsEvents/LatestNews/Title,19106,en.php">resource hours</a> and Special Needs Assistants (SNA) in schools, what future are our children facing. Can our new Government do the math and add up what its going to cost down the line by hacking away at the supports and services now? I really hope so. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-78223835986523744862011-05-26T02:49:00.000-07:002011-05-26T09:10:55.997-07:00Grieving? But no-one died?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNZcGH63dmmF9kMQ2sw7xuyoW2riwTZHjIEBAAn3aUticaNBi4N-EzyxiUT8F1d3WQSj16BPQ7FACAALOPPAvIEo5CCu2Mf_4tmqcNR1Mr1VFSW6PIZAvB0BHgQssHJPHJOpm6wV-POO1/s1600/stages+of+grief.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNZcGH63dmmF9kMQ2sw7xuyoW2riwTZHjIEBAAn3aUticaNBi4N-EzyxiUT8F1d3WQSj16BPQ7FACAALOPPAvIEo5CCu2Mf_4tmqcNR1Mr1VFSW6PIZAvB0BHgQssHJPHJOpm6wV-POO1/s320/stages+of+grief.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611038845162570578" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div>I recently did studies on the grief process and the different stages involved as part of my course and got to thinking how applicable this process is when you get a diagnosis of autism in the family. Although its not a death that you're dealing with, you still go through the stages as the future and plans you had have changed for you and your child. There are five stages in this process, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. If you are lucky like me, you get to the acceptance part in a reasonable time limit but you do still find yourself dipping in and out of the other stages on occasion...<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102); "><b>Denial</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACh3IfjsN7OnAGy4jpu3S46kzFqPZF-GFDTrU4mz4DrZFviY9ZDoTYAZMLlJve6rvU24kUo5DqDkr6tXlA_eDWhl8iOo8X_B-wlJmva__tySr4rwadppzA2RKhi7IG0ySbv70zJnnELPi/s200/denial.jpg" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh how well I remember this stage... the one where it was easier to bury my head in the sand in the hope that I was wrong. Sure she's young, she might grow out of it. I'm wrong, there isn't a problem, its all in my head. You stay here for a while in the hope that it will go away, the signs and flags are waving but you choose to ignore them for a while until the moment that the <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/06/becoming-acquatinted-with-kitchen-lino.html"><span class="Apple-style-span">"penny drops"</span></a> and your world starts crashing in on you!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>Anger</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Why my child. This happens to other people! When did I become one of them?!? This is so unfair that my beautiful little girl has to deal with these challenges. You become angry and frustrated that it happened to you and your family instead of Joe Bloggs down the road. Then it hits you that you always pitied the "other people" and get angry that you don't want to be patronised or pitied although you yourself have been guilty of the very same actions in the past. You get overwhelmed with the why me's until the answer hits you.... Why NOT me? This was something my mother taught me when she became ill and I wanted to know why she wasn't angry that she'd been dealt a duff hand although she'd lived a healthy and clean life. It was when she answered "why not me?" that I realised the wonderful lesson she was teaching me. Things can't always happen to "other people"...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>Bargaining</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>We start looking for cures, for answers. If I do XYZ it will "fix" my child. We look for the magic bullet that will restore all our hopes and dreams. We hear what we have to do to help our child to improve their communication, their quality of life and we do anything possible to do it. ABA, OT, SALT, Social Stories, Schedules, diet, supplements etc. How many autie parents do we hear state that they'd sell their houses and bankrupt themselves in the pursuit of the latest therapy available. Unfortunately there are sharks out there that take advantage of parents at this stage promising that the latest "batshit therapy" is the "cure"... Swimming with dolphins is something that whilst a wonderful experience, it's not going to miraculously start your child talking in full sentences. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>Depression</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Hanging upside down for 3 hours a day, drinking the dew from buttercups hasn't fixed the problem. You realise that its going to be a long slog and damn hard work. Your life becomes a ritual of appointments, reports, letters and fighting for services for your child that will work. Its easy to lose sight of your own needs and let them slide. Unfortunately, getting run down and tired has its own pitfalls. One of these is the "Black Dog" of depression. You want to retreat into your cave and hide for a while until someone who cares for you and supports you drags you back out. Don't be afraid to talk to your GP. Sometimes we all need a bit of help in the shape of a little round pill, its nothing to be ashamed of. While medicinal help is good to deal with your depression short term, its getting a support network established and in place whether a local group or an online group that's vital. Having others who understand and<span class="Apple-style-span"> <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/08/friends-who-just-get-it.html">"get it"</a></span> will help drag you from the cave that which seems attractive but is so debilitating in the long run. Ask for help...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>Acceptance</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Ok, so life isn't going to be the same as you thought it was going to be. Let go of the old dreams and create new realistic ones. Whats important is not <i>your</i> dreams but your <i>childs</i> dreams. There are plenty of successful, entrepreneurial people out there living life with autism. Many many autists go to college, have successful careers, get married and have children of their own. Don't look too far into the future as it's impossible to tell right now what capabilities and strengths your child will have 20 years into the future! Embrace and enjoy their current strengths and capabilities and stop looking at what they can't do... look at what they can. Acceptance is the greatest gift you can give your child. Different doesn't mean wrong, just not the same. Don't let anyone make you feel that way.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmYecaxoX8fjpSNqVmj44V6LzwS4o-yoX6iZ9kVf-klbs6AzM7SKHoGEx_H4FembtEQVfeJcXR0W0B1cVHckjCMWCJz2FOUsOmY53NynsDHx_aEPZWjtnB63e4zoreJnG-YnilcZxoxdN/s320/099.JPG" /></div><div><br /></div><div>I've found over the past two years that as Munchkin has moved about on the spectrum (and they do, you're not stuck at the same stage always as the day you get your diagnosis!) I have moved about between the different stages of grief. Acceptance is great when you get there, but you will have days when new challenges arise that you'll slip back a few stages or dwell in bargaining or depression a little while. Thing is to keep moving back towards acceptance and getting on with your lives. I know its easy for me to say this as Munchkin has made such amazing progress but that in itself can put you back to the denial stage until autism shows its face again and you need to pull yourself through the different stages. I guess they don't call it a rollercoaster of emotion for nothing eh?</div>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-67794447743999252512011-04-07T14:15:00.000-07:002011-04-07T15:06:51.832-07:00A letter to my daughter<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyQvcf58uJqptZCh4N-zz3NMHjgmMkj_HFMhmQtlMoo6E7iGISus_tgEdwg7WVU4DlZRyxKEGZ80x4YoMlVqnv6laKKzd1E9_4dagGhLvIvUOMXaBVNTvYw9jD4G1xm37A3RolRs6c29_w/s1600/mother-and-child-holding-hands.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyQvcf58uJqptZCh4N-zz3NMHjgmMkj_HFMhmQtlMoo6E7iGISus_tgEdwg7WVU4DlZRyxKEGZ80x4YoMlVqnv6laKKzd1E9_4dagGhLvIvUOMXaBVNTvYw9jD4G1xm37A3RolRs6c29_w/s320/mother-and-child-holding-hands.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592965078922368082" /></a><br />My darling Munchkin,<div><br /></div><div>As I lay with you in my arms tonight holding you tight as you needed your "huggles", I delighted in the feel of my arms wrapped tightly around you. I looked at your angelic little face and drifted back to a time when I wasn't so blessed to be able to touch you...</div><div><br /></div><div>When you were born, you were not content in my arms. Where I saw other mothers feeding their babies and watched them bond, I wondered why it was that you were so uncomfortable in my arms. I so desperately craved you to look up in my eyes as you fed and feel that connection that others seemed to find so easily. No matter what way I positioned you, there was never that ease as you strained away from my touch...</div><div><br /></div><div>As you got older, the only way you were "comfortable" on my knee was to be facing away from me. As soon as you had finished the last drop of your bottle you slid off my knee like I'd electrocuted you. I was envious of the other mothers stories of how their babies would reach out and touch their faces and plant sloppy kisses on their mouths. I can admit now how jealous I was of that which others took for granted. I took comfort that you wanted to sleep in my bed with my arm across your chest even though you wouldn't let me put my hand on you. I know now that you were seeking the pressure the weight of my arm gave you but it was something that I valued greatly.</div><div><br /></div><div>I remember reading a quote just after the penny dropped when I realised you had autism. I burst out crying as it touched home to me. It was from Helen Keller and it read <i>"Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same." </i>I decided though that I <i>needed</i> to be able to touch you, I <i>wanted</i> to be able to touch you...</div><div><br /></div><div>I spent countless hours with you sitting sideways on my stomach on the sofa, reading you book after book as you loved being read to. Slowly you grew to accept this as long as I wasn't trying to hold you there. I tried everything to desensitize you to the feel of my hands. As you watched your beloved Peppa Pig, I used the opportunity to stroke your feet briefly or to massage your arms. It took time but you got used to this routine and grew to like it. Every morning for half an hour before we got up, we would play the "name the animal game" and every time you did the sound I would tickle you for a brief second or two.</div><div><br /></div><div>Holding your hand wasn't accepted by you at all. This made going out in public very difficult as you would pull away and then run to get away from me. We ended up only going out in the buggy as it was the only safe way to have you out. With the help of your tutors and the occupational therapist we worked tirelessly on getting you to put pressure on your tiny hands, rolling you over back and forth on your gym ball, making you "walk" forward on your hands to get your jigsaw pieces. We played so many games that involved touching that you didn't realise what we were doing, you just enjoyed the "game".</div><div><br /></div><div>That almost seems like a lifetime ago now. Every time you put your hand in mine, or give me a hug and a kiss my heart feels like it will burst with happiness. You have no idea of the joy you bring to me my baby. These days you love for me to tickle your back, you give me amazing huggles ( your name for hugs/cuddles) and actively seek out contact with me. I love these moments and will never take them for granted I promise. To see you hold your friends hands makes my heart swell...</div><div><br /></div><div>I do wish that you would let others hug you or give you a kiss though. It would make your grandparents very happy to get a big squeezy hug but the little ones you do give when asked are the small steps towards this goal. I'll be selfish and say that if you never have the ease of contact with another the way you do with me, I'll still be happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you </div><div>Mom xxx</div>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-321076341438900642011-01-09T13:11:00.000-08:002011-01-09T14:36:30.548-08:00Whats worked for Munchkin?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnOzyZYL26IqN9KRiMnL40N6iy1I9UdgJlrdOzP0vmw54GDgp3VR9E-6rsGjbN5NtO04ojLTAAj6j2nLnuKZtgpV1MmrVe9PLka4mAKsr5p67hE9VFUYYwWOTVG_C2mMn_WqwzECbhSWx/s1600/034.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnOzyZYL26IqN9KRiMnL40N6iy1I9UdgJlrdOzP0vmw54GDgp3VR9E-6rsGjbN5NtO04ojLTAAj6j2nLnuKZtgpV1MmrVe9PLka4mAKsr5p67hE9VFUYYwWOTVG_C2mMn_WqwzECbhSWx/s320/034.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560316206322053410" /></a><br />Its been a while since I blogged. For various reasons I've neglected my blog and apologise to anyone who may have been following to see Munchkins progress. I'll bring you up to date with this post...<div><br /></div><div>I get asked a lot "what has worked for Munchkin" as she's made such incredible progress over the years. Part of me gets a little irked at times when I think a parent is looking for the "magic solution" that will "cure" their child. Lets be straight folks... there is NO CURE for autism or aspergers but there are many many therapies that will help your kiddy reach their full potential. Its also not a quick fix or something that you can throw money at to make the problems go away. Its a hard slog and somewhat frustrating at times but with hard work and a lot of input, you can make huge strides in helping your child understand and cope with whatever issues they are struggling with.</div><div><br /></div><div>So back to the question... <b>"What's worked for Munchkin?"</b></div><div><br /></div><div>When the <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/06/becoming-acquatinted-with-kitchen-lino.html">bottom fell out of my World</a> and I heard the confirmation that she has an ASD, like many I took a little while to pick myself back up off the floor, dry the tears and realise that having a nervous breakdown (which allowed me to hide in my own little world for a while), or looking for the answers in the bottom of a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon wasn't going to help the situation. I needed to become her advocate, her tutor, her teacher and look for practical help. If I was to wait on the never ending waiting lists for therapies, it would be time wasted and lost forever. In this country you find yourself in Limbo, waiting for someone to come and fix the problem. DON'T! Find a local support group, if you can't get out get <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/07/bombardment-of-social-interaction.html">online support</a>, join <a href="http://www.autismireland.ie/">Irish Autism Action</a> and get some guidance. There are many courses out there that a parent can avail of to learn how to teach your child. ABA, PECS, Lamh etc... YOU are going to have to put in the work if your child is going to reach their goals. I was lucky that I'd already done courses in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Applied_behavior_analysis">Applied Behavioural Analysis</a> and <a href="http://hammie-hammiesays.blogspot.com/2010/01/verbal-behaviour-goes-techno.html">Verbal Behaviour</a> and so had a head start in that I could set up a program for Munchkin. Be aware though that there are plenty of sharks, sorry therapists who will offer you xy&z for large sums of money with false hopes of curing your child. In my opinion, you may as well be throwing wads of your hard earned cash into the toilet. Whilst swimming with dolphins might be nice if you're on holidays, its not going to fix your baby.</div><div><br /></div><div>We dabbled with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gluten-free,_casein-free_diet">GFCF diet</a> for a year and made great progress. On reflection, I have to question if it was indeed the restriction of foodstuffs or the intense ABA program I had implemented that gave Munchkin the push into verbalising and communicating. She has no restrictions in her diet now and still making forward strides.</div><div><br /></div><div>In her <a href="http://www.hse.ie/eng/services/Find_a_Service/Disability_Services/Disability_Assessment/">Assessment of Need</a> she had an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occupational_therapy">occupational therapy</a> assessment. I found the therapist to be very informative of what sensory issues and needs Munchkin had. I took notes on how to help and put the exercises into her home program. A year later, she was still on the "list" for therapy and my local support group <a href="http://cottageautismnetwork.blogspot.com/">Cottage Autism Network</a> provided her with an updated assessment so we could see where she was at that stage. Some of her issues had been overcome and new ones came to light and I was then able to tailor her sensory diet and adjust her program myself. By the time she moved up the list after a few years, we had dealt with many of her issues. Boy was I glad I hadn't waited for the HSE OT slots....</div><div><br /></div><div>Speech and Language she received when she attended a special needs preschool. She received daily group SLT and once a week she had an individual session with the speech and language therapist. Everything that they were working on in school we were also still doing at home with her.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.education.ie/home/home.jsp?pcategory=17216&ecategory=29359&language=EN">Home Tuition</a>. This was a godsend as we had the cream of the crop when it came to home tutors. The most amazing person came into our lives in the form of Ursula. She was the teacher in the local ASD unit and hand on heart, I will always be indebted to her. Finding a good tutor is paramount when setting up your home tuition program and we've been so lucky in the three tutors that Munchkin had. DON'T just leave it all to your tutor though. Become involved and work together as a team. As I said earlier, you can't just expect others to fix the problem and the more involved you are in all aspects of your childs program the better the outcome is going to be...</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/07/bombardment-of-social-interaction.html">Socialisation</a>. Hugely important! There has rarely been a day since I first suspected that Munchkin might be autistic that she hasn't been around other children. At first there was resistance and little interaction but now she has a host of kids that she refers to as her friends. Sure she might meet someone for the first time in the playground and tell me they're her best friend but hey, she's really social and interested in other kids now.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/12/tayto-louboutins-imagine-that.html">Play skills</a>. We taught Munchkin how to play with her toys. This doesn't come naturally to a child with ASD and lack of imaginative play is a huge problem for many of our kids. Through ABA and a reinforcement schedule, she learned to play. To look at her now happily playing with her toys its hard to remember back sometimes when this wasn't the case. And as for her imagination... well its amazing!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9dPoiyrSszhruGrKq1lh2abVOQW2Ci1OE3EtQR31Ym5QICq3V8wLOj7xPxrXAdIVGJrMSVVMIpTMj3M0BI3X2Do8NqhFTmYSlHUsneVAiY13mWNYxYgY3NrJzXXdDlppCXhEhLDaCDPM/s320/032.JPG" /></div><div><br /></div><div>School. She's now attending an ASD unit full time. It was a difficult decision whether to place her in the unit or not but I met with the school and they agreed that it would be a great stepping stone to mainstream next September. While she has no problems expressing herself verbally there are other behaviours that can be worked on while learning the social rules of school. They are teaching her how to transition and helping her focus on tasks etc. I know that come September, she'll be fully ready to mainstream.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well that's whats worked for Munchkin... We've both learned so much over the last two years and continue to do so. I'll leave you with a quote from "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parenthood_(2010_TV_series)">Parenthood</a>", a show I watched last week which struck a chord with me...</div><div><br /></div><div><i>"The greatest barometer for success for children with Aspergers is their parents involvement"</i></div><div><br /></div>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-58664401144938167662010-09-13T12:58:00.000-07:002010-09-13T14:09:06.464-07:00Never Too Late To Educate...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2FsiS3ACOBhHJN-gUGXXtxHnNazBEv_msURTfAN7DqrGk48BHNy7sWLY0ixp2SYZr1BlNuZ7HyXTA9VAGmncFjqZZF6CAVeRrN6WoIZcRaXlJIKBfhtIXxKE6GZPhlNGftGtWMEIJ4x9/s1600/923.TeacherApple.jpg"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2FsiS3ACOBhHJN-gUGXXtxHnNazBEv_msURTfAN7DqrGk48BHNy7sWLY0ixp2SYZr1BlNuZ7HyXTA9VAGmncFjqZZF6CAVeRrN6WoIZcRaXlJIKBfhtIXxKE6GZPhlNGftGtWMEIJ4x9/s1600/923.TeacherApple.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2FsiS3ACOBhHJN-gUGXXtxHnNazBEv_msURTfAN7DqrGk48BHNy7sWLY0ixp2SYZr1BlNuZ7HyXTA9VAGmncFjqZZF6CAVeRrN6WoIZcRaXlJIKBfhtIXxKE6GZPhlNGftGtWMEIJ4x9/s320/923.TeacherApple.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516502444539971250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The sun has set on the Summer and mothers and fathers all over Ireland are breathing a collective sigh of relief that the little monsters, sorry our beloved offspring, have returned to the structure and routine of the school year. Summer holidays, while relieving us of the dreaded school runs, can be a time of stress when you have a bored child bouncing off the walls. Personally I think the holidays are far too long but there is an element of jealousy there when I look at the Gruesome Twosome roll into the kitchen in the afternoon while I've been up since stupid o'clock being subjected to Peppa the Precocious Piggy and other such delights that we're all familiar with. I would gladly buy Dora a sat nav at this stage rather than listen to her singing...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1he4PTQysjkSFqWPZwCvqE8cM1NTqcCM4XzPj7UyI5JA8lpX3RN9VzYL3hmZ74E857GMYQLPIuZ_ibZY4vuFzPhvbZUbXOMtNrp4u_yCdus6Ih08DBdS83RxLKYo85v0DhSPm43g_f7k/s1600/Trinity_college_front_arch.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1he4PTQysjkSFqWPZwCvqE8cM1NTqcCM4XzPj7UyI5JA8lpX3RN9VzYL3hmZ74E857GMYQLPIuZ_ibZY4vuFzPhvbZUbXOMtNrp4u_yCdus6Ih08DBdS83RxLKYo85v0DhSPm43g_f7k/s320/Trinity_college_front_arch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516501310684109266" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This year is particularly poignant for me as my eldest heads off to spread his wings. As immensely proud of him as I am for nailing the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leaving_Certificate">Leaving Certificate</a> and securing his place in <a href="http://www.tcd.ie/">Trinity College</a>, its a strange moment to let go after so many years. His bags and belongings have been packed up and I dutifully drove him to Dublin at the weekend to start a new chapter of his life. Thankfully my parents live there so have been able to transition him slowly as he'll go torment them with his bombsite room that smells of cadavers.. why oh why do all teenage boys room smell so bad? Answers on a postcard please and a prize for anyone who can solve this lifelong riddle...<br /><br />So that leaves two still in the proverbial nest. I'll still be kept busy trying to secure services and resource for the little birdies left in my care. Yani has started the senior cycle now and today we started medication for her ADD. Hopefully it's as successful in helping her concentration as it was with her big brother. She's a very clever and capable girl and its frustrating when her <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attention-deficit_hyperactivity_disorder">ADD</a> and <a href="http://www.sensory-processing-disorder.com/">SPD</a> cause such difficulty for her. She described it quite aptly at her appt with CAPS today as sitting reading the text and willing the words to go in... the information reaches her eyes and seems to bounce back to the page shes reading. Classic problem that many of our children have when it comes to concentrating and taking in the information needed to study. Fingers toes and eyes crossed that the medication filters out the extra stimulus that distract and help with her auditory processing.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39pVkXP1XmjjB3hNsdxANW1VgqxuchMSRJVpC1-25O9M9fTRgLGsT6e6y6KZKbK5eA0ORte2I43Tp_mLozFvBoY-genWCFDM4tpC97Hug2zP317gW62Bxvl2Pol_AY0WG6lC-F5bFJiSY/s1600/071.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39pVkXP1XmjjB3hNsdxANW1VgqxuchMSRJVpC1-25O9M9fTRgLGsT6e6y6KZKbK5eA0ORte2I43Tp_mLozFvBoY-genWCFDM4tpC97Hug2zP317gW62Bxvl2Pol_AY0WG6lC-F5bFJiSY/s320/071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516501897505718002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Munchkin has had an interesting start to the school year... She's moved up to the number one spot on the waiting list for our local unit but in the meantime she's attending a NT preschool. For the most part its going extremely well and she skips in the door in the mornings with a smile on her face. My heart dropped when called over by the preschool leader last week to say that they were having problems... trying to escape from the playground, stripping, hitting and running around during circle time to name a few. I have a journal in school that they are filling in every behaviour and problem they are encountering with her so that I have a written record to show the <a href="http://www.sess.ie/faq/what-seno">SENO</a> when she moves to the unit to make our case for an <a href="http://www.sess.ie/faq/what-role-special-needs-assistant-sna">SNA</a> stronger. Watch this space as they say.<br /><br />And me? Well I'm heading back to school too as I'm a firm believer that its never too late in life to learn something new. It's only part time but nervously anticipating being a student again. I better go buy myself a lunchbox and get an apple for the teacher while I'm at it :)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2FsiS3ACOBhHJN-gUGXXtxHnNazBEv_msURTfAN7DqrGk48BHNy7sWLY0ixp2SYZr1BlNuZ7HyXTA9VAGmncFjqZZF6CAVeRrN6WoIZcRaXlJIKBfhtIXxKE6GZPhlNGftGtWMEIJ4x9/s1600/923.TeacherApple.jpg"><br /></a>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-76999713807731109522010-08-10T13:10:00.000-07:002010-08-10T14:17:47.772-07:00Pack Up Your Worries.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCqEX5WMy9B8StFTI3hTpTmXENcs47fTXq4pdjEhYbQuujEwfzYpHO27bchFqMkGHjB_GXeVkR6pXrjHuXEMF-yHGXJ9rrIFdnarXBPNt03AX8rLZ6qLJJO3B4wdcmeV4j-6SOnp9Hf-B/s1600/fake-french.gif"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Nae5UiJ7duawuDy1W63FtV1pJuMYlgW7nw7Dx8A2cwhOBPQhimSqK_rjOy1sAC4w0INyqvgSXlsyENkYLD6apGhyPMdPr793smDUbKLZ5c0PGga7C-0V8MONqFNMJJa-JfT2Keqt1QkQ/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Nae5UiJ7duawuDy1W63FtV1pJuMYlgW7nw7Dx8A2cwhOBPQhimSqK_rjOy1sAC4w0INyqvgSXlsyENkYLD6apGhyPMdPr793smDUbKLZ5c0PGga7C-0V8MONqFNMJJa-JfT2Keqt1QkQ/s320/DSC_0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503889616605277506" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODeRUPTfDI1h-R3Blh18_HefNOnqCOi2B_Am37z3Hz0YHlqG07OeAOQPja_xXFUColvI-RQoddXfBmKonmAKMEZ_auefLbUeZOiCd5XSQ99iIJSjPojW38cWuP2PMFhMHVMg22x-S4RNL/s1600/DSCF5736.JPG"><br /></a><br />Did you ever feel like just running away... just packing a case and leaving all your troubles behind? Well I finally did it. After a chat with Mum and saying how much I needed a holiday but couldn't afford to take one, she told me I couldn't afford not to. If I were to crack under the pressure I wouldn't be any good to anyone. That's all the arm twisting I needed to promptly organise to send Munchkin to her father for a week and fill the fridge and presses with food for the Gruesome Twosome. It something I think every parent dreams of but seldom plucks up the courage (or stupidity) to do. I'm not going to bore you with the details of the pressures leading up to my bolt for freedom but suffice to say I was bowing under the considerable pressure. So off I went armed with sun lotion, mental bubblegum books that required no effort to read and most certainly didn't contain the "A" word, and the perfect travel companion whom for the purpose of this blog shall be called Vixen :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODeRUPTfDI1h-R3Blh18_HefNOnqCOi2B_Am37z3Hz0YHlqG07OeAOQPja_xXFUColvI-RQoddXfBmKonmAKMEZ_auefLbUeZOiCd5XSQ99iIJSjPojW38cWuP2PMFhMHVMg22x-S4RNL/s1600/DSCF5736.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODeRUPTfDI1h-R3Blh18_HefNOnqCOi2B_Am37z3Hz0YHlqG07OeAOQPja_xXFUColvI-RQoddXfBmKonmAKMEZ_auefLbUeZOiCd5XSQ99iIJSjPojW38cWuP2PMFhMHVMg22x-S4RNL/s320/DSCF5736.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503888369354095490" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Vixen (yummy mummy to a couple of Aspie/Auties), and myself jetted off on a whim to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tunisia">Tunisia</a> where once there, we quickly settled into our new surroundings. We had decided to go <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">all</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">inclusive</span> as neither of us had the energy or decisiveness after a stressful year to even make decisions such as where to eat or what to do. When you've spent all year making difficult decisions, and being the primary carer for your children, sometimes you just don't have any head space left for the mundane choices. Its astonishing though when you are so used to "doing" all the time, how slowly time actually passes as several times over the week we felt as if we were in a time warp!<br /><br />We discovered our Inner Auties on holidays and on one of the last nights, had a discussion over our dinner at how comfortable it had been NOT to feel the pressure to talk, or feel the need to explain that you weren't in a bad mood, or upset, you just didn't want to open your mouth and fill the silence. That's not to say that we didn't communicate during our time away, just communicated in grunts or nods if it was the wrong side of noon... Sometimes silence is indeed golden. It was amusing to note that we sat at the same table in the dining room each night, varied our food only a little and lounged on the side of the pool in the one spot all week....<br /><br />At the resort, the majority of people spoke French as a first language. Vixen has no French and I have some so it was interesting trying to communicate with others. Essentially, Vixen was the non verbal one and I was the newly verbal with my Pigeon French. It struck us that this must be how our kiddies feel when in social situations and finding it difficult. I really had to struggle to listen and found that I could comprehend far more than I could verbalise. Vixen laughed at the fact that even if she said "I don't understand", someone would speak slower and say the exact same phrase as if that would make the difference, again and again.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCqEX5WMy9B8StFTI3hTpTmXENcs47fTXq4pdjEhYbQuujEwfzYpHO27bchFqMkGHjB_GXeVkR6pXrjHuXEMF-yHGXJ9rrIFdnarXBPNt03AX8rLZ6qLJJO3B4wdcmeV4j-6SOnp9Hf-B/s1600/fake-french.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlCqEX5WMy9B8StFTI3hTpTmXENcs47fTXq4pdjEhYbQuujEwfzYpHO27bchFqMkGHjB_GXeVkR6pXrjHuXEMF-yHGXJ9rrIFdnarXBPNt03AX8rLZ6qLJJO3B4wdcmeV4j-6SOnp9Hf-B/s320/fake-french.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503891146794074290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjODeRUPTfDI1h-R3Blh18_HefNOnqCOi2B_Am37z3Hz0YHlqG07OeAOQPja_xXFUColvI-RQoddXfBmKonmAKMEZ_auefLbUeZOiCd5XSQ99iIJSjPojW38cWuP2PMFhMHVMg22x-S4RNL/s1600/DSCF5736.JPG"><br /></a><br />At the markets, we were hassled beyond belief by the traders and locals attempting to catch our attention, talk to us, get our business and we learned extremely fast that the best and most effective way of ignoring them was to avoid all eye contact (sounding familiar?) It was actually liberating to not feel the pressure of social niceties and allow yourself to be "rude" and totally blank these strangers who wanted to invade our personal space. I found a new appreciation of why and how our kids sometimes blank us or appear not to see or hear us. Its not "rudeness" as if that was the case we'd have spent our time just saying bog off. It was easier and far more effective to just ignore completely!<br /><br />All in all, I think we learned a lot from our holiday. Not only did we get to relax and recharge the batteries, we discovered a little what it feels like to be inside our children's heads even if just briefly, and I must say, I liked it :)Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-13476890725903327492010-06-29T12:22:00.000-07:002010-06-29T14:24:27.776-07:00Better than The Brady Bunch :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyypCx1BWd9UFeips_2SVM1UcTlYYO34Je2fg_Q2ayIY8Bapyn8kCafoVubniXw6YTVnvZi-0PDOsWjFdMkS1qtf4o69cX3uUTtf_EtPJCGnH_KuFfWq3AUwTb5PS5kt8mnMIAYL_4y_T/s1600/buddies.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyypCx1BWd9UFeips_2SVM1UcTlYYO34Je2fg_Q2ayIY8Bapyn8kCafoVubniXw6YTVnvZi-0PDOsWjFdMkS1qtf4o69cX3uUTtf_EtPJCGnH_KuFfWq3AUwTb5PS5kt8mnMIAYL_4y_T/s320/buddies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488308519607952066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjml7ev6yjidcBAulQeTBJ_zfAHOVqc48V80sjxsCK261A98lSQ3Lkct4Vcw2R05W18xuy43cEtbn09wXDMSAL6o_oGZKTOh1q54FolGVar1_2Yf3-ScKAl7fIjf5g2duDbVbQ60vOLCefW/s1600/396.JPG"><br /></a><br />Many of my blog readers will be sick of reading how important it is to have friends that <a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/08/friends-who-just-get-it.html">"get it"</a> and have heard me wax lyrical on many occasions about the friends I have made on Facebook over the last year and half, but once again I'm going to tell you why this is so meaningful.<br /><br />Last weekend, two girls who I now consider close friends even though we only met a year ago, came to stay for a night with their three gorgeous sons. We had discussed this visit on our Facebook pages and pretty soon, another two mums decided to pack up their kids and head for the coast on an hour and half road trip to come have a picnic with us on the beach. We all met at my house on the Saturday at lunchtime so we could go to the beach together and off we headed, armed with blankets, towels, food and high expectations of having a great afternoon in good company. The sun smiled on us and when we arrived we parked ourselves close to the waters edge, ready to run as needed. Between us we had 9 children, 2 auties, 4 aspies, 1 under assessment, 1 with dyspraxia and a toddler. Add in copious amounts of ADHD and we were ready for a fun day out...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrk1nwnOXnOlpGxY-amn_YivKll7UcwNrizg0rFPlnjfaQ5UgbOpWTe2pgttwxg6awco6uRKvEKzHpDjQTAa6JQ4YAoiTVe8J-bvKpKzkdjaHmlV-aAKkcAbUrPYZo7LAhTinB5CyaHan/s1600/297.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrk1nwnOXnOlpGxY-amn_YivKll7UcwNrizg0rFPlnjfaQ5UgbOpWTe2pgttwxg6awco6uRKvEKzHpDjQTAa6JQ4YAoiTVe8J-bvKpKzkdjaHmlV-aAKkcAbUrPYZo7LAhTinB5CyaHan/s320/297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488299986209667122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Before long one mum was shouting for assistance to come take her phone out of her pocket as she was wading out to retrieve her young man who looked for all intents and purposes, determined to head towards Wales without a backward glance. As she managed to drag him back to land he managed to slip out of his shorts, preferring to turn the local beach into a nudist one hehe. We all enjoyed seeing the looks of excitement on our little ones faces as they paddled, crawled, rolled in the sand and did what they do best, be kids. We attracted some looks on the beach but as we are all seasoned elephant hide wearers, none of us were bothered by the attention. At times it was poignant for me to see Munchkin want to play with a little group of girls, but lacking the social skills necessary for her to join in. Despite having a vast vocabulary and excellent speech, she still falters when it comes to joining in with NT kids as she struggles conversationally.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasjLwvdwLZd3IzDLYz1WSFMoMPan-3QmLfZU4cPt4sqkOlVQ1-v1ZEPi5To9eYzStGfRFRrmwmEvw_wcl-cnw2JN5Aa8Ic0zwPpZ6a_xPa9qQu-HT1Zp-6H0wl2d42-zUJ_RPRdPG7B4b/s1600/302.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasjLwvdwLZd3IzDLYz1WSFMoMPan-3QmLfZU4cPt4sqkOlVQ1-v1ZEPi5To9eYzStGfRFRrmwmEvw_wcl-cnw2JN5Aa8Ic0zwPpZ6a_xPa9qQu-HT1Zp-6H0wl2d42-zUJ_RPRdPG7B4b/s320/302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488301870745590146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After we had had enough of eating sand sandwiches and the beach in general, we all headed back to my house to let the kids continue to play alongside each other while the mothers were able to chat and relax a little with the front gates firmly closed. It was a very enjoyable afternoon and when the ladies from the Midlands left that evening, there were four nudies jumping on the trampoline until it was time to come in and get ready for bed. Amazingly, all four kiddies settled well that night and us mums sat chatting in the kitchen until the wee hours.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksSAU_xGcRm04mCwtysQWM22UFh2zKhcxEbiC7281tOGfh_FXTWysfYLRkBAVMlzJs4Qm8F4Y5hZnPPJY9YAoBVvn6qK8dUX040bwCHDtRBTJ3FlXgEQRlAR95bneB5GOk6_j9Oyoqoub/s1600/393.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksSAU_xGcRm04mCwtysQWM22UFh2zKhcxEbiC7281tOGfh_FXTWysfYLRkBAVMlzJs4Qm8F4Y5hZnPPJY9YAoBVvn6qK8dUX040bwCHDtRBTJ3FlXgEQRlAR95bneB5GOk6_j9Oyoqoub/s320/393.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488307686948444946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next morning, all four kids were in fabulous form and we decided to take them to the local play centre where they burnt off some of the copious amounts of energy they store in such small bodies! Afterwards it was off to MaccyDees to meet up with another lovely FB family who were visiting the area and more laughing and chatting over our fast food before the gang all headed back to their own homes. On Sunday night, I sat and realised how quiet the house was now and how I missed the company of the girls and their wonderful kiddies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5VU3rEi1K7NJa2yu3jYJF1k14nsAJnuXwo_qTYI6m01tb9ZSbtDsJdMHPqK3Axg7AMmhBbuR8Wg7Aa32fdxU6im17xnYlQnuDxVoBnpfRLejCcSIT2ovmFcNV4HnWHL8THfG6dahR552l/s1600/DSCF5565.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5VU3rEi1K7NJa2yu3jYJF1k14nsAJnuXwo_qTYI6m01tb9ZSbtDsJdMHPqK3Axg7AMmhBbuR8Wg7Aa32fdxU6im17xnYlQnuDxVoBnpfRLejCcSIT2ovmFcNV4HnWHL8THfG6dahR552l/s320/DSCF5565.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488291528531162546" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Most people would think that having that many kids with special needs in your home would be stressful, but it was quite the opposite in fact. Not having to explain why your child likes to do naked acrobatics or why the ice pop is the wrong colour/shape/brand is very liberating. Not having to explain your childs behaviour or worry that people will think its poor parenting to allow drawing on a brown wall (well it did look like a giant chalkboard!) is so refreshing. It was also lovely to see the "friendships" between the children evolve. Whoever says that all aspies or auties are not interested in having friends is talking through their posteriors... I saw lots of bonding and even if they didn't communicate like NT kids, they were certainly enjoying each others company!Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-29067160596901653702010-06-22T05:34:00.000-07:002010-06-23T05:54:13.115-07:00And in The Blue Corner...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLBlDVTdWbB26ray62TiTkYWcErBovxDEVD9Q1r6TqJZkw51Ms4ZyMvAKDQDhL1hZJ4tjNmqvWw0ibxBSSi2ZL5s6esy-uGyavUyBVJWylJVJDZqzvPpBp0kiEH81JZTD8ktt_0KabXKB/s1600/Woman_boxer.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 129px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLBlDVTdWbB26ray62TiTkYWcErBovxDEVD9Q1r6TqJZkw51Ms4ZyMvAKDQDhL1hZJ4tjNmqvWw0ibxBSSi2ZL5s6esy-uGyavUyBVJWylJVJDZqzvPpBp0kiEH81JZTD8ktt_0KabXKB/s320/Woman_boxer.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485598451780515378" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-0LFYkKEaswAhtdTfQbqxY5yVRIHJ6jxBRHFm6MLLBi1JBY1G5qZek8A7nzaz8V4WSW-7b3-TGmVoQfsZOhyphenhyphen8jMYumyOCbti-Iwrj0nUYDfDir4-q98ZgmUGwAGHdLEuwYvpycR_mQ5c/s1600/walters_479w_1.jpg"><br /></a>Its been another busy month filled with twists and turns along the way. We finally had the verdict from our private assessment done back in February after a drawn out standoff between myself and the HSE to get access to Yanis records. Despite many many promises to provide <a href="http://www.autismireland.ie/listing.asp?id=46">Solas</a> with information, the letter just wasn't forthcoming. It wasn't from the lack of phoning and contacting them that it took so long but rather a stubborn reluctance for some reason to provide anything in writing to me. Several months of fighting for the information and a stand off in the GPs reception taking witnesses details and copies of correspondence between CAPS (Child & Adolescent Psychiatry Services) and our GP were furnished to shut me up. It takes a lot for me to "lose it" but after being lied to and told that letters had been sent to me which obviously hadn't, I arrived in person to get copies of the letters from CAPS. After they looked in the file, it was apparent that the letters didn't actually exist! To gain access to the files myself, I would have to apply under the <a href="http://www.foi.gov.ie/what-is-foi?">Freedom of Information Act</a> and pay for the privilege. Hence the drive to the GPs surgery and my demands that they furnish me with what they had on file and the subsequent standoff! It was a revelation to read that back in Feb 09 they queried atypical autism and ocd to be further assessed but then sat back and did nothing, happy to leave her on medication and take it no further. I now understood why they were so reluctant to let me have the correspondence! I would have taken her for assessment privately a lot sooner had they not sat on this information. They did however, at every meeting we had, raise the subject of AS so I eventually took the bull by the horns and had her assessed myself...<br /><br />After thorough assessment back in February, we finally got answers to Yanis behaviour and issues. A full Occupational Assessment showed that she has SPD (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sensory_processing_disorder">Sensory Processing Disorder</a>) which when explained to us made so much sense as to why she would be oversensitive to some visual and auditory stimuli. It made sense now why she got so upset if The Elder Lemon would forget to take his ADHD meds and be tapping and clicking and unable to prevent himself doing so... So now I have one who moves and taps uncontrollably at times, and one that cannot tolerate the sound or sight of him doing so... ummm interesting times lol. Certain sounds such as eating noises would be so distressing and distracting for Yani over the years meant that we no longer eat as a family as it really wasn't worth the tears and tantrums that ensued. We used to joke that she would never find someone to marry when shes older as even the sounds of people breathing bother her at times! (This one I can relate to... I could never sleep facing my ex as I would be tempted to put a pillow over his face if he breathed on me hehe) Anyway before I digress, this was one issue that was highlighted and made sense to us. It was also brought to our attention that she has some gross motor difficulties and needs OT to deal with that. I better not joke that she runs like Borat any longer...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-0LFYkKEaswAhtdTfQbqxY5yVRIHJ6jxBRHFm6MLLBi1JBY1G5qZek8A7nzaz8V4WSW-7b3-TGmVoQfsZOhyphenhyphen8jMYumyOCbti-Iwrj0nUYDfDir4-q98ZgmUGwAGHdLEuwYvpycR_mQ5c/s1600/walters_479w_1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-0LFYkKEaswAhtdTfQbqxY5yVRIHJ6jxBRHFm6MLLBi1JBY1G5qZek8A7nzaz8V4WSW-7b3-TGmVoQfsZOhyphenhyphen8jMYumyOCbti-Iwrj0nUYDfDir4-q98ZgmUGwAGHdLEuwYvpycR_mQ5c/s320/walters_479w_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485596821673773794" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />With regard to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome">Aspergers Syndrome</a>, the psych assessment showed that she had some features of AS but not enough to warrant a diagnosis so we can put that behind us now and stop wondering if that was a possibility. I now had something to bring back to the team in at CAPS when we met. They had pulled out the big guns and I was now to meet with the head psychiatrist for the South East region. Apologies were issued and verbal admissions made that she should have not been left that long without further investigation. We had another very lengthy meeting where the top man himself spent time with Yani and came back to me with the diagnosis of <a href="http://newideas.net/adhd/different-types-adhd/inattentive-type">ADHD Inattentive Type</a> also known as ADD. Some of her symptoms of ADD may be related to her SPD and lethargy but you don't get resource hours in school for SPD so an official diagnosis is being made and letters written for the school so that Yani may get resource for the senior cycle. Meds are also being discussed and will be started during the summer. He also has referred Yani for a full speech and language assessment as feels that she may have a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pragmatic_language_impairment">pragmatic language disorder</a> so that requires further investigation. I finally have the HSE sitting up and paying attention that we will fight hard to get what services she needs to make the most of the rest of her schooling. Its just a shame we've had to fight this hard!<br /><br />So I have that part of the battle sorted.. I thought that I had all the fights done for the coming school year for both Yani and Munchkin, but of course life isn't like that when you've got a <a href="http://www.ncse.ie/">SENO</a> that used to steal the jumpers from the makeshift goalposts as a child, but that's another blog post...Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-79558408800459021952010-05-27T07:38:00.000-07:002010-05-27T09:41:15.505-07:00Jump? Sure... How High?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDY1IveVaD7Ne_CC2VVXeJa5KyjC11uiMvhrLxgVq-2K3i55EIjpC7Br1z4ypOj4qCDTQ29sEGtwbuEj7lJszyE-A2Cu3wvXsd4wZqM9ZEdxxixB-Je8C14n2AkOx-wGWanBo5mOLNUWD/s1600/circus-girl.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamBfceFRQ7gYBw5wui9QItAOOloI50HqprJGo5-6Y0coHsctf0AbD7MHVnQ50xphG2BQNTXTA9CSTSLvDnEKlkzpKp0sb1UPZ9U0Jp9MoW2FG8Og2SLvJUIpAtIzum1GpSAmkbHmwJo02/s1600/femaleacrobat.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamBfceFRQ7gYBw5wui9QItAOOloI50HqprJGo5-6Y0coHsctf0AbD7MHVnQ50xphG2BQNTXTA9CSTSLvDnEKlkzpKp0sb1UPZ9U0Jp9MoW2FG8Og2SLvJUIpAtIzum1GpSAmkbHmwJo02/s320/femaleacrobat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475988685133661058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamBfceFRQ7gYBw5wui9QItAOOloI50HqprJGo5-6Y0coHsctf0AbD7MHVnQ50xphG2BQNTXTA9CSTSLvDnEKlkzpKp0sb1UPZ9U0Jp9MoW2FG8Og2SLvJUIpAtIzum1GpSAmkbHmwJo02/s1600/femaleacrobat.jpg"><br /></a><br />Gosh its been a while since I blogged last... I've been busy training for the circus you see. Laugh as you might, I think I may have qualified as an acrobat since we last met... And who has taught me such a skill? Well I'm learning this art courtesy of our very own health service providers, the <a href="http://www.hse.ie/eng/">HSE</a> and the <a href="http://www.education.ie/home/home.jsp?pcategory=27173&ecategory=27173&language=EN">Department of Education and Science</a> have thrown in a few lessons along the way. They are equal opportunity trainers, but if I'm honest, I think they favour our group at times as seem to focus on training us at every opportunity...<br /><br />I first started jumping through hoops before I even met "The Professionals" at the <a href="http://www.hse.ie/eng/">HSE</a> and the DOES, but the hoops I thought were difficult to navigate and jump through were only training hoops. A straight run and with a little effort you jumped right through. Inconvenient but not unsurpassable. Since those days though, the HSE and DOES have introduced me to a whole new level of hoops and obstacles to navigate on my path to get my children the services they need and are actually entitled to! When you have filled in the gazillionth form, and bought your own photocopier as have that many forms/reports/letters to post out what seems like on a weekly basis, and think you have things under control, another hoop appears...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSnpeKKjTaLk2a9gneDmM2kn8iYJrIVFCsOCDB92r2T9kaAcqFlLC6rCmI0pdEofM__KV6IWQ_yg11cB66U7vVMl-AZWMuVqx6Clr0nKoZ5kwDBoXw9z4gRJQfKoeW7LnPXvj7bTwOLLsd/s1600/lionjump.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSnpeKKjTaLk2a9gneDmM2kn8iYJrIVFCsOCDB92r2T9kaAcqFlLC6rCmI0pdEofM__KV6IWQ_yg11cB66U7vVMl-AZWMuVqx6Clr0nKoZ5kwDBoXw9z4gRJQfKoeW7LnPXvj7bTwOLLsd/s320/lionjump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475989071282083698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Unfortunately, like circus lions, I have discovered that if I want to get to where I need to go, I need to play the game and when the Ringmaster says "jump" its better to ask "how high" than resist. As a wise woman once said, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. She also told me that the "squeaky wheel is the one that gets oiled." When you are tired doing mental acrobatics, sometimes you need to step back, gather your energy along with your thoughts, and when you are ready, take another bash at it.<br /><br />Whether is a refused <a href="http://www.welfare.ie/EN/Schemes/IllnessDisabilityAndCaring/Carers/DomiciliaryCareAllowance/Pages/DomiciliaryCareAllowance.aspx">DCA</a> application and appeal, a request for reports, applying for <a href="http://www.education.ie/home/home.jsp?pcategory=17216&ecategory=29359&language=EN">Home Tuition</a>, an SNA review or the fight for Speech and Language Therapy, or Occupational Therapy, you need to find the best way to approach the hoop to make it through. Sometimes you will need the support of others to help you along and give you a "boost up" when you feel you have no energy left to jump. Others who have navigated the course can be valuable allies as even thought the route may change from time to time, they will have information and advice how to handle your particular situation.<br /><br />I think what I'm trying to say is "don't give up". The reason these hoops and obstacles are placed in our way is, in my opinion, to make it more difficult for parents in the hope that some will not pursue it further. A shameful way for the Government to save money at the expense of our children. What they don't bank on is us all coming together and in a show of strength helping each other navigate. When your child is diagnosed, you are not given information on what your entitlements are or what you can apply for. If you know any parent in this situation, please tell them, show them and guide them towards the information they need.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamBfceFRQ7gYBw5wui9QItAOOloI50HqprJGo5-6Y0coHsctf0AbD7MHVnQ50xphG2BQNTXTA9CSTSLvDnEKlkzpKp0sb1UPZ9U0Jp9MoW2FG8Og2SLvJUIpAtIzum1GpSAmkbHmwJo02/s1600/femaleacrobat.jpg"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDY1IveVaD7Ne_CC2VVXeJa5KyjC11uiMvhrLxgVq-2K3i55EIjpC7Br1z4ypOj4qCDTQ29sEGtwbuEj7lJszyE-A2Cu3wvXsd4wZqM9ZEdxxixB-Je8C14n2AkOx-wGWanBo5mOLNUWD/s1600/circus-girl.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigDY1IveVaD7Ne_CC2VVXeJa5KyjC11uiMvhrLxgVq-2K3i55EIjpC7Br1z4ypOj4qCDTQ29sEGtwbuEj7lJszyE-A2Cu3wvXsd4wZqM9ZEdxxixB-Je8C14n2AkOx-wGWanBo5mOLNUWD/s320/circus-girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475990614432592898" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Right I'm off to sew some ostrich plumes to a leotard and post my CV to <a href="http://www.duffyscircus.com/">Duffys Circus</a>...Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-42441218346869582522010-04-27T06:50:00.000-07:002010-04-27T07:58:44.707-07:00Mother of an Adult.. A New Era has begun...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKct_dK5wABO37T7iYfR2yHqgNbpZDEWEv3H470oXKutPQ22myJEpjVVjgVOwnPzVogQQKtYbWoquA_VkDoTq81yR6ns6SkPhmF5IloVqQxvoi_F3lVK2Yr4_94gshk21N4w2-PODm3FNr/s1600/DSCF4501+%282%29.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKct_dK5wABO37T7iYfR2yHqgNbpZDEWEv3H470oXKutPQ22myJEpjVVjgVOwnPzVogQQKtYbWoquA_VkDoTq81yR6ns6SkPhmF5IloVqQxvoi_F3lVK2Yr4_94gshk21N4w2-PODm3FNr/s320/DSCF4501+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464829479543604850" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Ok, who decided that at the age of eighteen you become an "adult"... seriously, who actually thinks that eighteen year olds are mature enough to be able to vote, drink, get married etc... I really think that this needs to be reviewed.<br /><br />Years ago, if you were of my parents generation, you were handed the key of the door as such on your eighteenth birthday and you went on your merry way. Moved out, got employment and probably settled down in your early twenties with the person you would spend the rest of your adult life with, raising your children and setting down roots (I paint such a pretty picture ;) But nowadays, it is more common that your "child" lives at home until their late twenties and continues their education well into their early twenties. Perhaps if they are lucky enough, they travel the World before settling down.<br /><br />My eldest turned eighteen last week and the thought terrifies me. He is now classed as an "adult" and apart from the obvious <a href="http://www.citizensinformation.ie/categories/social-welfare/social-welfare-payments/social-welfare-payments-to-families-and-children/child_benefit">benefits</a> being cut, there really is no difference to when he was fourteen in my opinion. I still cook his dinner, do his washing and do a taxi service for him. He still attends school and will sit his <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leaving_Certificate">Leaving Certificate</a> in a few weeks time. I have the summer to prepare him for moving out as we have no university where we live and he'll have to live in Dublin when he goes to college. I have to let go of the reigns and let him figure things out for himself... He'll be responsible for feeding himself, making sure he takes his meds and generally keeping himself safe. No wonder I'm terrified! Yani has told me she's NEVER leaving home and thats a whole other issue to deal with...<br /><br />It got me thinking to what the future holds for Munchkin and I hold the hopes that in fifteen years time I'll be having the same worries about her going to college and taking care of herself. That's the long term aim but who knows what her capabilities will be at that time. I think of friends whose children have more needs than Munchkin and wonder how they deal with their worries for the future and know how lucky I am to have my first in the starting blocks preparing for uni. I shouldn't think too far into the future as still have to secure a place for Munchkin in the ASD unit to give her the best chance at mainstreaming and inclusion so to think fifteen years forward is silly but unavoidable at times. After all, it doesn't seem that long ago that my manchild was a little boy...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3Cboql-RsQtKQ4NbK8C4JNxggZD3xO3UiZtPe_klY-If3bEtnPOEU7Ja_cd1dvsXyZDV_YwFeAKeCwilojO_hmUmR2A9hfdZBLqs_AaM-kYDomXmDYHUU6J9MUoihYYrg9Eoh3EFF9P2/s1600/DSCF4367.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3Cboql-RsQtKQ4NbK8C4JNxggZD3xO3UiZtPe_klY-If3bEtnPOEU7Ja_cd1dvsXyZDV_YwFeAKeCwilojO_hmUmR2A9hfdZBLqs_AaM-kYDomXmDYHUU6J9MUoihYYrg9Eoh3EFF9P2/s320/DSCF4367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464821658988052162" border="0" /></a>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-23471202756541451562010-04-13T08:12:00.000-07:002010-04-13T09:54:01.796-07:00My Child is not a Stereotype...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_TqV1peoebXL2bUYiYu6ST1LfV5tw_ktnKGRIuSB4x31iYH345i_ISf2hgFajWwswji0FnFDsb9XG6Xo5MEfSS8JCFfkDbf9sX2sFzPEzdik0S61phfhSfAOS3yVIi7HqOwDtSS8Wff6/s1600/DSCF4110.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_TqV1peoebXL2bUYiYu6ST1LfV5tw_ktnKGRIuSB4x31iYH345i_ISf2hgFajWwswji0FnFDsb9XG6Xo5MEfSS8JCFfkDbf9sX2sFzPEzdik0S61phfhSfAOS3yVIi7HqOwDtSS8Wff6/s320/DSCF4110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459663758168515282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Its Autism Awareness Month, and I've realised lately how my own perceptions of ASD have changed over the years, and how easy it is to mentally file things into stereotypical files in our heads. For many years, I would have been the one who conjured up an image of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rain_Man">Rainman</a> when the word autism was mentioned and even though I have an autistic relative, I'm ashamed to admit I knew remarkably little about the disorder. Back in 2004 this all changed when a very lovely little boy came into my life and taught me there was so much more to ASD than I had imagined. While I worked with him, my attitudes and preconceptions changed and I fell in love with this child. It broke my heart when the family left Ireland and I knew that I would no longer see him but was very grateful for the lessons I learned during the few years I spent with him.<br /><br />While working and training in ABA/VB I met a lot of parents and children, but not being a parent of a special needs child myself, it was difficult to truely understand what life was like for them. Yes, I spent five days a week working with kids on the spectrum, but its NOT the same as being their parent. Most of the children I met were nonverbal and would have had challenging behaviour at times so when I got pregnant with Munchkin and at 33 weeks pregnancy realised that autism could possibly be on the cards with my little girl, I panicked. I vividly recall saying to a friend that I could handle any disability that was dealt up to me, (I had refused prenatal testing for Down Syndrome even though I was classed as an "older" mother at 37). Anything that was, EXCEPT autism! I cried and hoped and wished that it wouldn't be the case. Looking back now, I realise how unfounded those fears were but thats with the wisdom of hindsight (why can't you buy that stuff by the crate eh?) As educated in autism as I thought I was, I still had a long way to go understanding this complex and huge spectrum!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAB1Ff1byDCB6mP7jkMP12II3SblDQUoT_CFNaTUuCzmQLYJxf8xFI-WqZFawp1u7UYvgsyQkeLYnqhkKWTO2lS0JeubVK9dNiL3VURtuA-dAo_ggStoBMdQvAcdzuBvlvNkvommKshYp/s1600/rollercoaster.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAB1Ff1byDCB6mP7jkMP12II3SblDQUoT_CFNaTUuCzmQLYJxf8xFI-WqZFawp1u7UYvgsyQkeLYnqhkKWTO2lS0JeubVK9dNiL3VURtuA-dAo_ggStoBMdQvAcdzuBvlvNkvommKshYp/s320/rollercoaster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459659265510445586" border="0" /></a><br />Three and a half years on and a hell of an emotional rollercoaster later, I'm still playing mental pingpong at times, making me realise that I STILL have a lot to learn about ASD. Because Munchkin has progressed so much, I often kid myself that I can't see her aspergers anymore. I question my own sanity and her diagnosis on the good days, then get a dose of reality when I see it again. We have adjusted our lives, our homes and everything we do and LIVE <a href="http://hammie-hammiesays.blogspot.com/2010/01/verbal-behaviour-goes-techno.html">verbal behaviour</a> so much that we don't chart data, or click mands, it just comes second nature to all living in the house. I hear a lot from people who don't meet us often, that how could she have aspergers, "sure she can talk can't she?" Its not until they try to have a conversation with my gorgeous girlie that they realise there is a difference between talking and being conversational...<br /><br />People tell me how lucky I am that she has come so far and I agree, but there has to be a flip side to this too and I think its the constant questioning in my own mind (and in many around me!) I do accept her aspergers and love her unconditionally, quirks and all. I am so greatful for the progress she's made and exceptionally proud of her, however instead of getting a pat on the back or a well done, you quite often get the original diagnosis questioned instead. You automatically defend as know that yes, she's doing great, but have you LOOKED at the sheer volume of intervention she's had, how hard she's had to learn what she knows and how the struggle you've had to get here, so you start pointing out the quirks, which almost feels like you are betraying your child! I was asked recently about "recovering" and "curing" my child and would I remove the autism if I could. My personal opinion is that if I removed all traces of Munchkins autism, I would be removing her personality as its as much a part of her as the colour of her eyes. Now ask me again, would I like to make life easier for her by teaching her skills to help her? Hell yeah, of course I would.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLVAV-zrbzppXePvTPfoO9gclHTb7mwbGsWIGxnOvLHa18nmzlcKraBkt9sJuvyOeHCl6yXYWu56wNKPrCgOUwJlHoIz_g4QUDuXBh1PZwnX2O5N_ixGMtFTWQKJIB2-sa1xI7aluBXCw/s1600/youngautistic.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLVAV-zrbzppXePvTPfoO9gclHTb7mwbGsWIGxnOvLHa18nmzlcKraBkt9sJuvyOeHCl6yXYWu56wNKPrCgOUwJlHoIz_g4QUDuXBh1PZwnX2O5N_ixGMtFTWQKJIB2-sa1xI7aluBXCw/s320/youngautistic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459658597144080930" border="0" /></a><br /><br />How can I do this I wonder... well raising awareness of autism as a huge spectrum is a start. Channel 4 are showing a very good documentary which started last night called "<a href="http://www.channel4.com/programmes/young-autistic-stagestruck">Young, Autistic & Stagestruck</a>" which follows 9 autistic adolescents who are all effected by autism in varying degrees and personally I found it enlightening (<a href="http://visitbulgaria.info/13199-tv-review-channel-4-s-young-autistic-and-stagestruck">review here</a>). For once I saw a program that didn't just focus on nonverbal asd, but also on aspergers, and much as I hate the term "high-functioning" autistics. I finally could imagine what Munchkin could be like when she's older and am looking forward to the rest of the series. I thought the show would make me feel sad, but I was pleasantly surprised how the makers are shooting it with empathy and sensitivity and think its a good start to stop stereotyping our kids.<br /><br />Finally to dispel a myth about aspergers, I'll answer some other questions to save you asking if you meet me... no, my daughter isn't gifted, she won't be the next <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Gates">Bill Gates</a>, she cant do any tricks and we have no plans to go to Vegas to count cards ok? :PPetuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-53123876614613993992010-04-06T12:55:00.000-07:002010-04-06T14:23:14.351-07:00The Power of Reinforcement<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJdPP2g8_Q7CHM5MtDhhUUHkfx4Iw3qspwUQzEdyfcMQSPqIMgfLItesPeELnHSs2muGfPFjozmH50YmKVuhZS-0Nw5kL67RDXBo-cJbAShDU6sPPMdVtnacgUXUYYfDAbds1krEBU5E8/s1600/paycheck.gif"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURzb_yJQWPB6zBa4C14wqsq0wHPzr6RYty24tdue4yYaBL3aBERon8KS2qGwVHhZ3f5aOlEly6iyFSRmPV19VTmK0Qg1Bd4g936Vd8jLQEIE_GgWcv0FRCsyJRtTZl5V1Kfpaaf0zCb88/s1600/mouselever.jpg"><br /></a><br />I've struggled lately to blog, really struggled trying to think of something to write about and the realisation hit me that this was because I had started to write for the reader, rather than for myself. When I first started blogging, I found it cathartic to be open about my feelings and talk about our journey, however, lately I have found that as I'm not "anonymous" anymore, and several people know me in person, or through my family, I'm more aware of what I put to paper. This in itself has made me cautious and I've lost the groove as such. In other words... I no longer found it reinforcing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURzb_yJQWPB6zBa4C14wqsq0wHPzr6RYty24tdue4yYaBL3aBERon8KS2qGwVHhZ3f5aOlEly6iyFSRmPV19VTmK0Qg1Bd4g936Vd8jLQEIE_GgWcv0FRCsyJRtTZl5V1Kfpaaf0zCb88/s1600/mouselever.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURzb_yJQWPB6zBa4C14wqsq0wHPzr6RYty24tdue4yYaBL3aBERon8KS2qGwVHhZ3f5aOlEly6iyFSRmPV19VTmK0Qg1Bd4g936Vd8jLQEIE_GgWcv0FRCsyJRtTZl5V1Kfpaaf0zCb88/s320/mouselever.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457128297660564882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />All autie and aspie parents will know the value of a good reinforcer. A good one can help turn a reluctant learner into an active participant in a task. We learn very early on that what we would previously have thought of as "bribery and corruption" had another name when applied using the principals of ABA (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Applied_behavior_analysis">Applied Behaviour Analysis</a>).<br /><br />In short, a reinforcer is an item or activity that can be used as a reward for attempting a task that will ensure that the child will attempt that task again, (or in jargon - <span style="font-style: italic;">Reinforcement is a term for the delivery of a stimulus, (immediately or shortly) after a response, that results in an increase in the future rate or probability of that response</span>). Its something that happens to us all everyday of our lives, but we never really put a name on it. People who dislike their jobs, but who smile when they reach payday, parents who hate cooking, but who love to sit around the table with their family watching them enjoy the food they've prepared (well ok, maybe not in this house, but I do believe it happens in some houses :) The donkey who follows the carrot dangling before him... ok I'm going to far now... but you get the idea!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJdPP2g8_Q7CHM5MtDhhUUHkfx4Iw3qspwUQzEdyfcMQSPqIMgfLItesPeELnHSs2muGfPFjozmH50YmKVuhZS-0Nw5kL67RDXBo-cJbAShDU6sPPMdVtnacgUXUYYfDAbds1krEBU5E8/s1600/paycheck.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJdPP2g8_Q7CHM5MtDhhUUHkfx4Iw3qspwUQzEdyfcMQSPqIMgfLItesPeELnHSs2muGfPFjozmH50YmKVuhZS-0Nw5kL67RDXBo-cJbAShDU6sPPMdVtnacgUXUYYfDAbds1krEBU5E8/s320/paycheck.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457129317249914418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />When you are faced with a diagnosis, words such as ABA, PECS, Lamh, Intraverbals, Mands, Echoics etc... all seem like a foreign language, and many parents are daunted by the thoughts of what they'll have to learn to help their child. Some parents might prefer to take the ostrich approach for a while, afraid of starting something they feel they themselves might not understand. The jargon and lingo are rattling around like a foreign language inside their heads and it is easy to forget when talking to the parent of a newly diagnosed autie or aspie that they don't understand the language <span style="font-weight: bold;">yet</span>. There is a fantastic introductory course in ABA detailed on the IAA blog <a href="http://irishautismaction.blogspot.com/2010/04/tazzy-goes-to-school-at-abacas-drogheda.html">here</a> that if you can get to, please do. Having someone translate the jargon will help you realise that it's not an impossible task, and in fact is quite logical and makes a huge amount of sense. If your child is non verbal, there is a two day PECS course which you can read about <a href="http://www.pecsevents.co.uk/workshopdetail.php?id=264">here</a>, and if your child is already using PECS, perhaps you might like to look at <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/grace-picture-exchange-for/id360574688?mt=8">this</a> post about the Grace App for the iPhone and gladly throw the dreaded laminater in the bin...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(right, blog post done... now for that chocolate I promised myself :)</span>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-3162465931354181922010-03-23T14:25:00.000-07:002010-03-23T16:12:36.540-07:00Happiness is.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipndbN95BHw2HqZAJbNI8TnXmv6U4j7_ZYgkCyTft9vZ6EYX_zfR27WlTUGiDO6zL9JllDn9BaT7zVfcD18JYd6nbX5Odu5Qh8FdasUFWQCnz2rKCOdmNlNiLoeVf0BMA8UwRkMC8FO9qc/s1600-h/celebrity-pictures-peanuts-snoopy-charlie-brown-happiness.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipndbN95BHw2HqZAJbNI8TnXmv6U4j7_ZYgkCyTft9vZ6EYX_zfR27WlTUGiDO6zL9JllDn9BaT7zVfcD18JYd6nbX5Odu5Qh8FdasUFWQCnz2rKCOdmNlNiLoeVf0BMA8UwRkMC8FO9qc/s320/celebrity-pictures-peanuts-snoopy-charlie-brown-happiness.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451957549469505138" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQjBiuyAU4w9PqhkHaWJFrVuESYUi-Yf6Cp1qWJSx12aSNi-7nV1RPVW0K8sun6icwIr_UXZ1ctU5YWuAOqkziQJ2x1S4MzcrPwm2fBAxhvpmWjnfkQ0KoWgf_pdhUiOE3dKZ_oI3Zg4n/s1600-h/Awardhappy-101.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQjBiuyAU4w9PqhkHaWJFrVuESYUi-Yf6Cp1qWJSx12aSNi-7nV1RPVW0K8sun6icwIr_UXZ1ctU5YWuAOqkziQJ2x1S4MzcrPwm2fBAxhvpmWjnfkQ0KoWgf_pdhUiOE3dKZ_oI3Zg4n/s320/Awardhappy-101.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451952321509030306" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />The lovely Jen from <a href="http://thekingandeye.blogspot.com/">The King & I</a> has tagged me on her blog for a Happiness Award which I get if I tell you all ten things that make me happy everyday. Before you laugh, its harder than you think! I seem to have spent so much time moaning lately its great to have the chance to reflect on the things that make me happy...<br /><br />1. <span style="font-weight:bold;">The Elder Lemon</span>... My firstborn and only son. He gets up every morning without me having to call him and gets ready for school. When I appear in the kitchen, he <span style="font-weight:bold;">always</span> greets me with a smile and a hug.<br /><br />2. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Yani</span>... My middle child and eldest daughter. She has a smile that can light up a room and everyday I look at her and am astonished how I managed to end up with such a stunning daughter. Not only is she gorgeous, but she is also smart (even if <span style="font-weight:bold;">she</span> doesn't believe that, I <span style="font-weight:bold;">know</span> she can do anything if she applies herself).<br /><br />3. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Munchkin</span>... the baby in the family but the one who we all revolve around. She has the most amazing smile and eyes you can drown in!<br /><br />4. Knowing I'm doing everything possible for my kids to reach their full potential and seeing them strive to get where they want to be. Imagining The Elder Lemon walking through the arch at Trinity in September with his future lying ahead of him. There was a time I thought I'd have failed him and he might not get there so imagining this scene makes me smile.<br /><br />5. Listening to Munchkins little voice, regardless of the time of day or night. I don't think I could ever tire of hearing her talk. Her laugh is infectious and sense of humour developing daily and this is one of the things that makes me happiest.<br /><br />6. <a href="http://lovelifeandaspieantics.blogspot.com/2009/12/laughter-is-indeed-best-medicine.html">My Facebook family</a>. Without whom I'd no doubt be in a padded cell by now! You all make me laugh every day and keep me sane :) You "get" me!<br /><br />7. My home. Well it <span style="font-weight:bold;">is</span> my castle...<br /><br />8. The smell of freshly cut grass (especially when its mine and I know it doesn't need doing again for another week lol).<br /><br />9. Tea! I could give Jeanie from <a href="http://planetoutreach-asd.blogspot.com/">Planet Outreach-ASD</a> a run for her crown with the amount of cups I drink every day :) It has to be sipped (well guzzled!) from my favourite mug which is a hideous floral pattern but it just tastes nicer from a bone china mug!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ta0-KcjNQwIhWIG8EzXNskBVyHuHAf3HPnyRtbG0-uGrpZMMxpHsnvAqxO5xeaXgJN2X9LKX0yMEd4BX_OH04LpuYoJvj6zUrrA1SICcfprgC8QVsX7RlbmdhmVNmFZvcxEIU9ZKH9vA/s1600-h/teacup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ta0-KcjNQwIhWIG8EzXNskBVyHuHAf3HPnyRtbG0-uGrpZMMxpHsnvAqxO5xeaXgJN2X9LKX0yMEd4BX_OH04LpuYoJvj6zUrrA1SICcfprgC8QVsX7RlbmdhmVNmFZvcxEIU9ZKH9vA/s320/teacup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451954544590714626" /></a><br /><br /><br />10. Last but not least, hugs and kisses I don't have to ask for. There was a time where Munchkin had to be bribed and coerced to give a non committal hug and kisses were out of the question as she was unable to purse her lips and has oral sensory problems. I get an unsolicited kiss every morning from her and then she'll rest her hand on my face for a while. I love that moment and it makes my heart swell and almost burst every time she does it!<br /><br />There, I did it! I now have to tag some others to follow suit and even though I'd like to tag everyone, will keep it to a few.<br /><br /><br />Hammie @ <a href="http://hammie-hammiesays.blogspot.com/">Hammiesblog</a><br />Jazzy @ <a href="http://jazzygals-steppingout.blogspot.com/">Jazzygal</a><br />Claire @ <a href="http://clairehawkins13.blogspot.com/">AJ - My Superhero</a><br />Andra @ <a href="http://andra-theperfectstorm.blogspot.com/">The Perfect Storm</a><br />Patsyperdu @ <a href="http://theoddadventuresofdrdestructo.blogspot.com/">The Odd Adventures of Dr. Destructo</a><br />Mandie @ <a href="http://mandiedempseys.blogspot.com/">The Fabulous Mr Luca</a><br />Lisa @ <a href="http://autimom-and-the-butterfly.blogspot.com/">Autimom & The Butterfly</a>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-80798094237451741952010-03-19T15:07:00.000-07:002010-03-19T16:13:00.824-07:00If you're happy and you know it flap your hands :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TI7AMYbRJgGJG14pjDusECznjYdLup7vSE7ofc__klwvg2q-pRQ-mt4nIhJQA9vIt3MJMIpPAlCUFMAPAJ3kSeFswcsio38VbvayI44SD_jU5i3OnawjRLu6GSvnYRleZWP5421E3oSs/s1600-h/IMG_0847.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TI7AMYbRJgGJG14pjDusECznjYdLup7vSE7ofc__klwvg2q-pRQ-mt4nIhJQA9vIt3MJMIpPAlCUFMAPAJ3kSeFswcsio38VbvayI44SD_jU5i3OnawjRLu6GSvnYRleZWP5421E3oSs/s320/IMG_0847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450479072406945458" border="0"></a>
<br />We are finally on the mend in the house after a few weeks of coughs and colds which turned into <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bronchiolitis">bronchiolitis</a> which meant antibiotics and the new challenge of Munchkin accepting a Ventolin paediatric mask. We got through it and this week, once she wasn't at risk of coughing up a lung she went back to school.
<br />
<br />She was so delighted to be back at her school that the only words that could describe her was she was "happy flappy" as she was like a little bird waiting to take off with excitement. She's always flapped but not so much when she's concentrating on a task. I've noticed her doing it a lot more lately, usually the left hand flapping from the wrist when she's happy or excited about something, and both if she's REALLY happy. Its a little like the movie Happy Feet but with Munchkin its happy hands!
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdaNdDbl7nwg_vHTeYU3NFFk6pQp95HVGQxbR7JSmVZzmWVFwKwQRyO9_CFBUAsePcSq9oGk568sNow_mH2NjnkHk-bAeY3uWU2wl6NI_hZ5h_0_3URhc7RpTW3-3LebIJIOYtdFD4a9AI/s1600-h/!clarice_starling-jodie_foster-fbi_badge.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 138px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdaNdDbl7nwg_vHTeYU3NFFk6pQp95HVGQxbR7JSmVZzmWVFwKwQRyO9_CFBUAsePcSq9oGk568sNow_mH2NjnkHk-bAeY3uWU2wl6NI_hZ5h_0_3URhc7RpTW3-3LebIJIOYtdFD4a9AI/s320/!clarice_starling-jodie_foster-fbi_badge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450482350064504594" border="0"></a>
<br />
<br />We had plenty of the double handed flapping at a recent visit to the cinema. I had prepared well and purchased the tickets a day in advance to reduce queueing but decided on the day to see how obliging our local Cineplex would be on producing the <a href="http://www.autismsupport.ie/autism-id-card/">IAA card</a>. There wasn't very many people there so I approached a manager behind the counter and politely asked would it be possible for Munchkin and I to sit at the back in the posh seats so that Munchkin wouldn't annoy the people sitting around us during the movie by kicking the seats, jumping up and down etc... I was told I could sit there but would have to pay the €20 per seat charge. It was at this point I flashed her IAA card FBI style at her and said that's a shame, the cinemas in DUBLIN acknowledge this card... I don't think she'd ever seen one before but before we knew it, we had been escorted to the VIP area personally by an usher! I have to say it was such a wonderful experience because of this. Munchkin was able to jump up and down, stretch, lie down and even watched part of the movie upside down as decided to lie on the seat with her legs on the back and her head hanging off the edge. But we made it through the entire movie and she ate her body weight in popcorn! She hasn't talked about going to the cinema but I know it must have been eventful for her as over two weeks later in the back of the car she starts singing "Let's all go to the lobby.. let's all go to the lobby" (funny how the advertising spiel before the movie can make such a lasting impression!)
<br />
<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YQ9pqxP1EmI&hl=en_GB&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YQ9pqxP1EmI&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></object>
<br />
<br />
<br />Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-77916319895250885292010-03-05T03:39:00.000-08:002010-03-05T04:18:31.309-08:00What happened my Picket Fence??<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5SIQ0MY1ux_KF24W7poLs1o0nzRrk_PjTkY7VNcyx3K7FBXhWairKhxN8BfTkXE7zTy4RxMvcPAkcDl23Np8ptXDTeu0Aoj-1zRVde2RMMpw7NFNUtb4tkENWTpu327ot5bvN3it-c7Y/s1600-h/picket.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5SIQ0MY1ux_KF24W7poLs1o0nzRrk_PjTkY7VNcyx3K7FBXhWairKhxN8BfTkXE7zTy4RxMvcPAkcDl23Np8ptXDTeu0Aoj-1zRVde2RMMpw7NFNUtb4tkENWTpu327ot5bvN3it-c7Y/s320/picket.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445120971916689858" /></a><br />Oh dear God... the grass is growing... Why does this not make me happy? Spring is finally here and the days are getting longer, the weather is improving and the daffodils in the garden are starting to bud. But the grass.... why does it have to grow?? I love the smell of freshly cut grass but I'm just so tired already, and now I know that soon enough I'm going to have to add it to my list of "things that need doing"<br /><br />You see, I'm a single mum with a couple of ex husbands behind me, so I have to do everything. I can deal with all the autism related stuff, I can run a home program, organise tutors, work, pay the bills, make the appointments and cope with all of that without cracking up. Its just how it is now. All decisions are down to me and in some ways that's actually better, as I don't have to run everything by another person and butt heads on whats best for the kids. My exes know that I only have the kids best interests at heart and will always put their needs before my own.<br /><br />Lately though, I'm finding myself resentful that my life didn't turn out quite as I expected it. I think we all have this image in our heads when we were younger of what our "grown up" lives would be like. I rushed headlong into marriage to get started on this portrait but it wasn't to be. OK, put yourself back together, you have two kids now that need you so just pull it together and provide for them. We muddled along quite nicely and became the Three Musketeers. I was hesitant to change the dynamics of our family unit but then found myself in another relationship and we plodded along nicely for the best part of 5 years, but that wasn't to be either and we amicably went our separate ways, but not until I had uprooted my family and moved us to the countryside (and the half acre of grass that just keeps growing!!).<br /><br />Loneliness set in and there is nothing worse than being lonely while surrounded by people.It was then I met my second husband. It was a whirlwind romance and I got caught up in the momentum and we quickly married despite there being indications that all was not quite right. The person I thought I married didn't turn out to be the person I ended up with. But I was pregnant on Munchkin at this time so we tried to make things work. Despite 5 months of counselling, our communication difficulties were too difficult to overcome and we separated.<br /><br />So that was it... back to the Three Musketeers but now we were Four. I can't regret any of my life as it gave me three wonderful (even if they are challenging!) kids. I can't help feel that someone snuck in and stole my picket fence though. I really wish that I didn't have to make all the decisions, that it would have been nice to have someone to talk things through with, to make plans with and share the worries with. Someone who would have been my partner and companion as we got old together and laughed at how the grand kids were karma for the way our kids were as teenagers. But that's not possible now. I chose my path in life and I just have to accept it which I do for the most part. Its just when the grass starts growing it reminds me that its just another thing to do... I'll put it on the list after I put the bins out...Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-28300662993361691642010-03-03T13:36:00.000-08:002010-03-03T15:54:53.947-08:00It's all starting to make sense now...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifW6Lk6EWjeXMDupSWYq2oOELV3UOM1g0ApcEg4uBLJBhCrIa6q6rCNG4OhDGDjvL05acuJt30Txicau5XOp4qcJbWr8xqv7o7FV1wbpoicpPRMFjbjJSiqBjRGAJZ4m0M2lJZfNRphRyV/s1600-h/monkeys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifW6Lk6EWjeXMDupSWYq2oOELV3UOM1g0ApcEg4uBLJBhCrIa6q6rCNG4OhDGDjvL05acuJt30Txicau5XOp4qcJbWr8xqv7o7FV1wbpoicpPRMFjbjJSiqBjRGAJZ4m0M2lJZfNRphRyV/s320/monkeys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444559926213329906" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />February was a tough month for our house. I received the new OT report for Munchkin which showed up areas that she had problems in that I hadn't realised. There were deficits in her gross motor functions that I as her mother, should have noticed already, but hadn't. Then we had the assessments in Solas... <br /><br />Almost a year ago, Yani was diagnosed with ADD and Clinical Depression and the HSE put her on Prozac. Nothing improved over time and her symptoms of the "traits" of OCD and ODD were getting worse. Every visit with the clinical psychologist there were queries over Aspergers. I didn't buy it but decided that it needed to be ruled out or it would keep popping up like an unwanted guest, demanding that some attention be paid as it wasn't going away. So I took her to <a href="http://www.autismireland.ie/listing.asp?id=46">Solas</a> to get answers once and for all. <br /><br />There we met the lovely Marissa who did a full OT assessment on Yani. I must say, it didn't come as a huge surprise to me to find that she actually had very similar results to Munchkin. Gross motor skills were poor, balance and coordination, pen skills and attention. She had problems with auditory and visual processing. I was told that she met the criteria for SPD (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sensory_processing_disorder">Sensory Processing Disorder</a>). After Marissa explained how this effected Yani, it all made sense. The crying, tantrums, temper, and emotional outbursts over simple things that others don't notice suddenly became clear. <br /><br />What did surprise me was that they didn't believe that she was depressed, rather that her body energy levels were very low and that her "motor" ran on a very sedentary level. Its not that she's lazy, or tired or not bothered, rather that her body works on a different level to others. It really did make a lot of sense and we were relieved to find there were answers at least to some of our questions. <br /><br />In the psychology assessment, at first I felt once again that I was "looking" for problems until I spelled out that we were there to rule aspergers out, not in. During the assessment process, as Yani answered the psychologists questions, I realised why the HSE psychs kept mentioning aspergers. Certainly there are things that could raise a flag or two, but on the whole I seriously and honestly didn't think we would get a diagnosis. They ran a cognitive test and did the <a href="http://www.come-over.to/FAS/VinelandTest.htm">Vineland Assessment</a>. Unfortunately, her school had not returned their assessment forms in time for our appointment, so we couldn't get feedback at the end, however the psychologist did say that she couldn't rule it out at this time. I was told though, that regardless of the outcome of the assessment, my eldest daughter required a host of therapies including emotional regulation therapy, anger management, mind reading skills etc. I guess I'd better start looking for a second job to pay for those as know that the HSE won't be providing them to her! I'm very angry with myself that I let them just stick my little girl on meds and I as her mother didn't persue her problems sooner.<br /><br />So we wait as the school was closed for half term and when I chased them up when the school opened afterwards, they hadn't done them, despite having had the paperwork for a week before the break. So we sit in a kind of Limbo til we put the pieces into the final jigsaw to get the full picture...Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-30048874801650575342010-02-21T06:19:00.000-08:002010-02-21T12:29:02.133-08:00The Importance of UnderstandingI got a full nights sleep!!! Its amazing how much better and brighter the day is when you get a straight eight hours sleep with no interruptions, no little feet dancing in the bed, no elbows or extra limbs (you know our kiddies grow an extra set of legs and arms when the lights go out... well it feels that way when you are getting the autie or aspie version of <a href="http://www.riverdance.com/">Riverdance</a> on your back or head during the wee hours!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFdTSDKw-OEqZqt7uyG71gKirMBCPW8qkLsCxqDyiuCkTcHfcH4D30bly5ZJ3XkaJPrt2sFF74foqWG1cWhVBxGzpyHHpdftMW2gxrQsSUZu_feFgEZ5WEkxhLaBzVl05PqAbyDLyHHmXZ/s1600-h/four+armed+baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFdTSDKw-OEqZqt7uyG71gKirMBCPW8qkLsCxqDyiuCkTcHfcH4D30bly5ZJ3XkaJPrt2sFF74foqWG1cWhVBxGzpyHHpdftMW2gxrQsSUZu_feFgEZ5WEkxhLaBzVl05PqAbyDLyHHmXZ/s320/four+armed+baby.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I had become increasingly frustrated lately as every time Munchkin slept in her dads house, he would report that she had no problems sleeping and made me question even more my own parenting skills. I wondered it if was the double bed she gets to sleep in that helped her settle well there. Or the fact that he marches her up mountains and they are constantly on the go when she's there so was tired out. I racked my brains and though that if I did the same, she may sleep here. I dragged her to the beach, the forest, marathon trampoline sessions or if it rained, the bed in the spare room had its strength seriously tested. But no, like every other night, she resisted sleep til gone midnight. Things marginally improved after I was given a prescription for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melatonin#Autism">Melatonin</a> from the paediatrician during her review and I could get her to bed 9.30ish each night but she never stayed asleep.<br />
<br />
It was only after her recent OT assessment that it was explained to me that Munchkin wasn't actually kicking me or hitting me but sensory seeking by pressing her feet and limbs up against me. Its very common with kids with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proprioception">proprioceptive</a> problems. She constantly seeks input to gauge her position by pressing up against me over and over during the night. Once I knew why she did this, it actually didn't bother me as much anymore. Its amazing what a dash of understanding can add to the mix! She used to only sleep as a baby if my arm was across her chest (not my hand, just my forearm) and the OT recommended that I use a <a href="http://www.sensationalkids.ie/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=349&category_id=106&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=3">weighted blanket</a> in the report I received the other day. It was only then that things fell into place regarding her sleeping pattern at her dads. While explaining the report to him, he informed me that he uses two duvets and a blanket at his house as he didn't want her to be cold and he couldn't afford to use the heating. She was getting the equivalent of a weighted blanket while there! With this new information, I set to work that night. I got a heavier duvet and stuffed it into her single cover. I put a bed rail up, as the OT explained that even though she doesn't fall out of bed, she would be subconsciously checking her proximity to the edge. I put her to bed and waited for the magic to happen....<br />
<br />
3am and there is screeching at the stairgate in her room... I go to the room to see that she has stripped off earlier in the night as dirtied her nappy and got back into bed. She's then wet the bed so that was the end of that attempt! I had thought we'd got past the stripping off in bed stage but will have to break out the <a href="http://www.disabled-clothing.co.uk/backed-pyjamas-r127-p-320.html">Houdini suits</a> again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVs5GDMhPVkNNRUtFvo5_aP6_hF_TkatcKWNidFOCjMfJFd87PomwacM89MXpwZlZrbmg_PjXPOlvcRhVErvClNJcaOtBdpA22ilVYahwFnsIIEc8r6WrJXBaM6UKmC9uhuxOcN9Nhn0y5/s1600-h/bluepinkPJset_medium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVs5GDMhPVkNNRUtFvo5_aP6_hF_TkatcKWNidFOCjMfJFd87PomwacM89MXpwZlZrbmg_PjXPOlvcRhVErvClNJcaOtBdpA22ilVYahwFnsIIEc8r6WrJXBaM6UKmC9uhuxOcN9Nhn0y5/s320/bluepinkPJset_medium.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Last night we tried again. On of the facebook mums suggested a duvet under her also so I set up the bed. One duvet under her, a feather and down pillow and a doubled up duvet on top of her. She's in her Houdini suit so we're good to go. 4 mg Melatonin and some milk and lets see what happened. I sneaked back up ten minutes later to check on her and.......<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8wfDycX2U2iXxer0i4CtYjnJBdAZrzdcqd7IFeXlaevKMhwbY7M5d14BRRelyE9VbKX3d3Ncm2hLDPiVbGq-wHb7b5KmobosQyOkZ7c9M8k1vsQ5I9sVp8Axuew8y2qLCQ_Er7fbRgCx/s1600-h/Cocoon+Charlie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8wfDycX2U2iXxer0i4CtYjnJBdAZrzdcqd7IFeXlaevKMhwbY7M5d14BRRelyE9VbKX3d3Ncm2hLDPiVbGq-wHb7b5KmobosQyOkZ7c9M8k1vsQ5I9sVp8Axuew8y2qLCQ_Er7fbRgCx/s320/Cocoon+Charlie.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
She may be holding onto the wall and rail but she looks so snug in her cocoon! And yes, amazingly, she stayed there all night :D I have fingers, toes and eyes crossed that it continues to work as I feel like a different person today. If not, I may have to reconsider the duct tape and staples solution... (relax, I'm only joking so take your finger off the speed dial to the social workers hehe)Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-52922970864351607682010-02-07T09:56:00.000-08:002010-02-07T14:34:53.745-08:00Look, I DO fit in :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfottCneae6fGbKMatzAiV2myNBz3m8qcWFiMtSjMVWqjaBicmkUsHRl_6saier6wAx6U9NDL8Sqvu4LMG_cq4fN4Q_TiZwMkPpN5XCOWSkc-eb9TAKyf8u2sSfWVkzWpmva40CqC-zO/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfottCneae6fGbKMatzAiV2myNBz3m8qcWFiMtSjMVWqjaBicmkUsHRl_6saier6wAx6U9NDL8Sqvu4LMG_cq4fN4Q_TiZwMkPpN5XCOWSkc-eb9TAKyf8u2sSfWVkzWpmva40CqC-zO/s320/IMG_1349.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfottCneae6fGbKMatzAiV2myNBz3m8qcWFiMtSjMVWqjaBicmkUsHRl_6saier6wAx6U9NDL8Sqvu4LMG_cq4fN4Q_TiZwMkPpN5XCOWSkc-eb9TAKyf8u2sSfWVkzWpmva40CqC-zO/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>A few days ago, myself and the tutor lauged so much as Munchkin squeezed herself into a canvas shopping bag. It never ceases to amaze me where she'll manage to make herself fit. From a very early age, she would climb into strange places. You would find her sitting in a toybox or drawer looking at her toys rather than take them out to play.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0LUS3pRmk4fkPze3NNJxj2E3HWLJ7rENxfrHqK7nhZHo8HiewnUzXuPo6FDBy_jPbDz0sMy5RpjFB9hGbDkH54azOtG1y5s5iaf_gt8cRa2x7dIyvKlbbk3OlZvU2k4ny4TBAoEdhD2V/s1600-h/IMG_1343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0LUS3pRmk4fkPze3NNJxj2E3HWLJ7rENxfrHqK7nhZHo8HiewnUzXuPo6FDBy_jPbDz0sMy5RpjFB9hGbDkH54azOtG1y5s5iaf_gt8cRa2x7dIyvKlbbk3OlZvU2k4ny4TBAoEdhD2V/s320/IMG_1343.JPG" width="233" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7_3x3_gLNFfNAha8pBQKslEnii9_UR7Jd7MTgLuYIQaMuXE0RCjUk17A6GdzW2QTvsBkD2xJRwb6hlUEZUoG1XdBCzxalPFw70XHnCfgEyT68ovTVNGfFD4B7mPGxd65n-pfa7iJLf5D/s1600-h/DSC00169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7_3x3_gLNFfNAha8pBQKslEnii9_UR7Jd7MTgLuYIQaMuXE0RCjUk17A6GdzW2QTvsBkD2xJRwb6hlUEZUoG1XdBCzxalPFw70XHnCfgEyT68ovTVNGfFD4B7mPGxd65n-pfa7iJLf5D/s320/DSC00169.JPG" /></a></div><br />
When we visited a friends house, she would open the dresser and pull out all the contents from the bottom shelf and then slide into the press and happily lie there for a while while I had a coffee. My friend kindly removed all breakables from this dresser as it became a weekly event! In my mothers house, there is a press in the kitchen which she likes to sit in with the doors closed over at times.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6tWvfl3qdW3SRso_7ypK9IUdN_M4sOKByAFzfQPfHtocgMZdy27ntqsAf5oukOTBZtO5IHHK410WUZ7FDjqDuxsi2a27-gbivUB32gmAQA0Ihm4b2W9FFsbM-52u6XoyrCAEaqhGpsW6/s1600-h/DSCF3082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6tWvfl3qdW3SRso_7ypK9IUdN_M4sOKByAFzfQPfHtocgMZdy27ntqsAf5oukOTBZtO5IHHK410WUZ7FDjqDuxsi2a27-gbivUB32gmAQA0Ihm4b2W9FFsbM-52u6XoyrCAEaqhGpsW6/s320/DSCF3082.JPG" width="228" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9mdku7vySP3erCdT-RV05AvGAamX1Rb8hSMHSEpdNifD9m0befWIiBzSKpDIAfwFRIpokXur-joJS-enCDdyQgLH5krLzi-NmdVpZkEsZIB42Zc7SfX-HvuvJuACdlqHm1L1j9-_2u12/s1600-h/IMG_0114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXVM27HLLnNvKRxDxR7LvctGITC2SO0REpcAUSanmTREOyUXhltVbIBHW7SVvm1REPpCmWuhTTNK6BIFIboIHs0Zi9LWdViPjtKKgJ-whwV2qOtglJ0AMlp2V9ZQsTk0txQt7XtRJRqVy/s1600-h/Photo0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXVM27HLLnNvKRxDxR7LvctGITC2SO0REpcAUSanmTREOyUXhltVbIBHW7SVvm1REPpCmWuhTTNK6BIFIboIHs0Zi9LWdViPjtKKgJ-whwV2qOtglJ0AMlp2V9ZQsTk0txQt7XtRJRqVy/s320/Photo0037.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I never paid much heed to this little quirk of hers until talking to the Occupational Therapist. It seems that she gets some needs met on a sensory level by doing this. A lot of children on the autism spectrum have <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proprioception">proprioceptive difficulties</a>. Hammie described this in a post on the IAA blog <a href="http://irishautismaction.blogspot.com/2009/10/teach-yourself-to-fish.html">here</a> as <i>"The sense of knowing where you are in relation to the Earth" </i>and gives a very simple example of if we close our eyes, we can still touch our nose with our finger. I still remember seeing Munchkin tryin to eat chips with her eyes shut one day and more that a few nearly went up a nostril!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzER7Z0ZkKvK-zPtOS0GVgZNJTvWPzCBpS9uiivyurXUOpIx0nexXOZMKDZdr-vCRadABpAghQr26Tevy9hS7f2tr007VWos0vuS4P4zATq5Yv0XLlnpJ1q6J3W1fyzf4-BFuOk_21tZg/s1600-h/2008_01270010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzER7Z0ZkKvK-zPtOS0GVgZNJTvWPzCBpS9uiivyurXUOpIx0nexXOZMKDZdr-vCRadABpAghQr26Tevy9hS7f2tr007VWos0vuS4P4zATq5Yv0XLlnpJ1q6J3W1fyzf4-BFuOk_21tZg/s320/2008_01270010.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
As part of her OT program, I do deep pressure and massage with her. One of her favourite things is to be rolled up in the duvet and squashed. She loves lying on a beanbag and being squashed with the other beanbag. She loves the pressure that is exerted on her little body and recently squeezed herself into a pillowcase so that her big sister could swing her gently while in her "cocoon". As she gets bigger we'll have to either get a <a href="http://www.sensory-processing-disorder.com/body-sox.html">body sock</a> or a single duvet cover at the very least!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9mdku7vySP3erCdT-RV05AvGAamX1Rb8hSMHSEpdNifD9m0befWIiBzSKpDIAfwFRIpokXur-joJS-enCDdyQgLH5krLzi-NmdVpZkEsZIB42Zc7SfX-HvuvJuACdlqHm1L1j9-_2u12/s1600-h/IMG_0114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9mdku7vySP3erCdT-RV05AvGAamX1Rb8hSMHSEpdNifD9m0befWIiBzSKpDIAfwFRIpokXur-joJS-enCDdyQgLH5krLzi-NmdVpZkEsZIB42Zc7SfX-HvuvJuACdlqHm1L1j9-_2u12/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I find that she has difficulty realising what size she is in relation to items also and will get quite frustrated at times that she can't fit into the toy car/bed/box she's playing with. As small as she is, there are certain limitations as to what she can actually fit into! It doesn't stop her trying however hehe...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncxgEanwskcqJKxWmxeXpRpyzcB2Nt-KbrL00yykFxThK-etZxIl4ploSScglxs-YaL-Ejm2XFQZQUIfM95VVU1ATnwcxtiTiRzTepcG1eFeGIOvCFaRDM8WSDGHBWO_R-f6ErYZ29f6d/s1600-h/DSCF3966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncxgEanwskcqJKxWmxeXpRpyzcB2Nt-KbrL00yykFxThK-etZxIl4ploSScglxs-YaL-Ejm2XFQZQUIfM95VVU1ATnwcxtiTiRzTepcG1eFeGIOvCFaRDM8WSDGHBWO_R-f6ErYZ29f6d/s320/DSCF3966.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncxgEanwskcqJKxWmxeXpRpyzcB2Nt-KbrL00yykFxThK-etZxIl4ploSScglxs-YaL-Ejm2XFQZQUIfM95VVU1ATnwcxtiTiRzTepcG1eFeGIOvCFaRDM8WSDGHBWO_R-f6ErYZ29f6d/s1600-h/DSCF3966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'll leave you with one of my favoure photos I took when I found that she had emptied the toys out of her shelving unit to use as a ladder to climb into and have some chill out time....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiha8D0ecNG_P9unfztEr0VsQH0GWM4GRqWjf4kocqK5gihWvQ8riKPts5SBNsix8C_TTY3TMpO_VMOxZRk22kJZCsd8niKG5Ssar4K5NLf5GEb7qk_UABH5hWzRxUC9kQsedtNMLuwHhq-/s1600-h/DSCF2072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiha8D0ecNG_P9unfztEr0VsQH0GWM4GRqWjf4kocqK5gihWvQ8riKPts5SBNsix8C_TTY3TMpO_VMOxZRk22kJZCsd8niKG5Ssar4K5NLf5GEb7qk_UABH5hWzRxUC9kQsedtNMLuwHhq-/s320/DSCF2072.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfottCneae6fGbKMatzAiV2myNBz3m8qcWFiMtSjMVWqjaBicmkUsHRl_6saier6wAx6U9NDL8Sqvu4LMG_cq4fN4Q_TiZwMkPpN5XCOWSkc-eb9TAKyf8u2sSfWVkzWpmva40CqC-zO/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZHt_GzOgjvA&hl=en_GB&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZHt_GzOgjvA&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
<i>*<span style="font-size: x-small;">edited to add video under strict instructions of the Queen of Blog, Hammie!</span></i> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfottCneae6fGbKMatzAiV2myNBz3m8qcWFiMtSjMVWqjaBicmkUsHRl_6saier6wAx6U9NDL8Sqvu4LMG_cq4fN4Q_TiZwMkPpN5XCOWSkc-eb9TAKyf8u2sSfWVkzWpmva40CqC-zO/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQfottCneae6fGbKMatzAiV2myNBz3m8qcWFiMtSjMVWqjaBicmkUsHRl_6saier6wAx6U9NDL8Sqvu4LMG_cq4fN4Q_TiZwMkPpN5XCOWSkc-eb9TAKyf8u2sSfWVkzWpmva40CqC-zO/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-18962945150890867462010-01-27T16:39:00.000-08:002010-01-27T16:53:27.838-08:00What's Sleep Got To Do With It??<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLD63jCo4DYobV9xx6MkBdja0r5MVD5knP4vedFmXD69l9pRno0LlmxXT0Xf2L4Ynvmsn8MXhSM-3pmQXqlNc3zNyzv8tKIokaT40x8hIMSQ0MPh5bvH7UT1mVDaTVpfZvr9U3m5Y-qXor/s1600-h/Sleep_Deprived_by_Night_Blizzard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLD63jCo4DYobV9xx6MkBdja0r5MVD5knP4vedFmXD69l9pRno0LlmxXT0Xf2L4Ynvmsn8MXhSM-3pmQXqlNc3zNyzv8tKIokaT40x8hIMSQ0MPh5bvH7UT1mVDaTVpfZvr9U3m5Y-qXor/s400/Sleep_Deprived_by_Night_Blizzard.jpg" width="366" /></a><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: purple;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>"When I was a child I used to hate going to bed... Now I cherish every hour of sleep!"</b></i></span><br />
</div><br />
I saw this posted up on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/">Facebook</a> earlier and I couldn't help but physically nod in agreement as I read it. Sleep... its something we all need in order to survive and keep our mental faculties intact. Unfortunately Munchkin doesn't realise that! She's never been a great sleeper from the start, often waking three or four times a night and ending up in bed beside me, as it would be the only way I could get one eye shut if not two. In the early days, while she was still a baby, I accepted that there would be <b><i>some</i></b> degree of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_deprivation">sleep deprivation</a> involved as with all babies... (you can spot a sleep deprived mother a mile off, with the telltale black bags, and I'm not talking Prada dahling!) Thats what babies do... they eat, poop, sleep and cry and repeat this cycle over and over. Usually though, sometime midway throughout their first year of life, they will eventually settle into a sleep pattern, waking less and ending up sleeping their 12-13 hours straight through to morning by about a year...<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, with Munchkin, and with many other children I know on the spectrum, sleep deprivation is more common than sleep. For some reason, our kiddies need so much less sleep than other kids their age. I occasionally get lulled into a false sense of security when my pixie decides to toe the line and give me a night or two in a row, making me believe that perhaps the torture of the night time waking is actually ending.... But no! Bam, we're back at square one :( I do hold onto some hope though... Her older sister woke every night until she was over 4 so maybe, just maybe....<br />
<br />
The effects of this broken sleep don't appear evident in Munchkin, who can happily run around, and laugh and smile etc as if she's had a 12 hour marathon kip. Nothing seems to knock her off kilter. She does her puzzles, plays with the toys, does her tablework without fuss and stays in relatively good form during her sessions in school and with tutors. So why is there a problem I hear you ask....<br />
<br />
I guess the problem lies with me... I struggle to function to the best of my abilities when I'm tired. Standards slip when it comes to everything as I wouldn't necessarily have the energy to give things my best focus. Just the other day, after a 5am rising with madam, I had to go to work which I found very stressful as the child I work with was extremely frustrated with not being mobile, so took it out on my hands using her nails. I then had to go collect Munchkin from school and go to the local book shop to get some stationary and books that Yani needed for school. We went up to the top floor to buy the books and then came downstairs to look at the puzzles for madam. Being tired, I looked at a box and when I looked down... she was gone! Oh no, where is she... theres a door that opens out onto the street... panic.... I start shouting her name over and over hoping she's going to answer me. Next thing, a counter staff girl shouted over "I think she just went up in the lift"! Great!! I run up the stairs and find her on the upper level. I got angry, really angry... Not with her, but with myself for letting my guard down and letting her give me the slip! Even if I'm exhausted, I <i><b>cannot</b></i> let the guard down! <br />
<br />
Time for action... I can no longer function as a law abiding, kind, happy, intellegent, useful member of society without my 8 hours a night. I have discovered the frightening "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_deprived_driving">Sleep Deprived Driving</a>" which means I can be often seen having a catnap at the side of the road when can drive no further... When I was younger, they used to joke that if sleeping was an Olympic Event, I'd bring the gold home for Ireland every time. I LOVED my sleep.I had it down to a fine art, and could sleep standing upright on the 75 bus to work every morning. Gawd, I miss those days! So whats my plan of action....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawlnDmDlj78gdQ6JnQCAVUWxPywgXjwxQKn1g53xCf7kzrkYsjqtr3JQ3OfbVCstAZQHO2dgPFHYKIZkv4S63wvExb-NCVP9L85wa2JL3TgF4n-WaCJwJt1BTVwf4hYw3EgbXBFUqJx0m/s1600-h/tired.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawlnDmDlj78gdQ6JnQCAVUWxPywgXjwxQKn1g53xCf7kzrkYsjqtr3JQ3OfbVCstAZQHO2dgPFHYKIZkv4S63wvExb-NCVP9L85wa2JL3TgF4n-WaCJwJt1BTVwf4hYw3EgbXBFUqJx0m/s320/tired.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
</div><br />
<br />
I have in my possession now, the holy scroll (well GMS prescription for <a href="http://www.umm.edu/altmed/articles/melatonin-000315.htm">Melatonin</a> liquid) I have previously bought Melatonin over the internet and given it in small doses but that obviously didn't have the desired effect. The paediatrician gave me clear instructions and the dose she recommended is far greater that the amount I had been giving her. So fingers crossed everyone... If it does the job you will probably hear the squeals of delight coming from me in the morning :)<br />
<br />
Watch this space.... but if you hear snoring, wake me at your own peril hehe...Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696133204824328936.post-2745422660877963252010-01-20T13:05:00.000-08:002010-01-20T14:00:36.390-08:007 things about me...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPsMPJbKykPA6hYGl9rn0UF-eTP3gIl5Dwy2hPmX5FAJAjl4Q2o8xTKFV1Us9vHvO9z1XYLMixq0qx4gE-l7Vx9cuh5L9lfvp4Pd_mZ_X-IqVJ11OkPIwqaqzAXJGqFSPlSi8QDaweNsd/s1600-h/road+rage.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPsMPJbKykPA6hYGl9rn0UF-eTP3gIl5Dwy2hPmX5FAJAjl4Q2o8xTKFV1Us9vHvO9z1XYLMixq0qx4gE-l7Vx9cuh5L9lfvp4Pd_mZ_X-IqVJ11OkPIwqaqzAXJGqFSPlSi8QDaweNsd/s320/road+rage.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428944279123161042" border="0" /></a><br />Everyone has done their list of seven things that you may not know about them and I have really enjoyed reading all the facts. To be honest, I was very surprised by some of the things I read and completely bowled over by the situations some of the girls had to endure over the years. Some of the stories made me laugh out loud and my nasal passages had tea spurt out on occasion... I do feel though, that reading the girls blog posts has made me think about my own life and how little I have done in comparison. I had my children quite young so never travelled, I certainly never carved out a career for myself, however, I have three very big achievements that call me Mam/Mum/Mummy/Mom/Hey you..... I will endeavour to follow suit and tell you 7 things about myself though as the others have all done so.<br /><br />1. I have been married twice. My first marriage was when I was 23 years old and to a Londoner. We had two children and our marriage only lasted 16 months, however we had been together for a few years before we wed. My second husband I met on the Internet and we had a whirlwind relationship and married 21 months after we met. This union only lasted 18 months. Today would have been our 4th wedding anniversary but as I never get to the second, I have no idea what it should be.. paper/rock.... scissors?? Contrary to popular opinion, I do NOT have a patio, even if I joke about it regularly ;)<br /><br />2. I am originally from Dublin, lived in Dundrum for the first 32 years of my life before moving to the country. I was asked recently by Hammie, how come I have a strong Wexford accent.... I still haven't managed to find an audio clip of what a Wexford accent is to play to her, but no.. I don't have the accent! When I lived in Dublin, I had a wall at the front of my house where the local teenagers congregated all day and for much of the night. They drove me insane as used to play football using the trees in front of my living room window as goalposts. After a few years of asking them not to play there, and begging them to stop walking on my wall as it was getting loose and the brickwork was wobbly, I snapped. I took a sledgehammer to the wall in front of them earning the nickname "Psycho Bitch from Nr. 1"....<br /><br />3. I worked in administration for a chemical engineering company for the best part of twelve years while living in Dublin. I hated my job but every time I quit, they offered it back to me with higher wages, more holidays and flexible hours! I kept going back but eventually went part time for them to work around the children's needs. I also did painting and decorating at weekends when The Gruesome Twosome were at their fathers house. I used to take in foreign students all summer to compensate for working less in the office, along with childminding and would do data input at night to make ends meet. During school term, I would work in the office in the mornings and do afterschool care. I loved being there to collect the kids from school, but it was hard.<br /><br />4. I was relentlessly bullied for the first three years of secondary school. I hated going and became withdrawn. My mother used to have to chase me down the road in the mornings to beg me to brush my hair and make an effort with my appearance. I had buck teeth and braces. To this day, I still have a massive inferiority complex and struggle with my demons. Even when meeting up with people I consider friends, I get very nervous, although on the outside I try hard to appear confident and intelligent. I always feel as if I'm playing at life, that it's not real, and some day my "fraud" will be found out. Silly I know, and a demon I'm trying hard to slay...<br /><br />5. I only started driving when I was 25. My father and mother bought me my first little car, a Ford Fiesta and I loved it. Overconfidence led me to attempt to drive to Arklow four weeks after I got it and I crashed, totalling the car with Yani in the back seat. No one was badly hurt but my bonnet ended up where my windscreen should have been and I was badly shaken. I still get nervous now when driving a route that's not familiar to me and I won't drive in the City. I do however, suffer road rage and after someone tailgated me for a few miles once, got out of the car at the traffic lights, opened the boot and roared at him "would you like to get IN"...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4D6PPqdGu2-Jx4C1lkk5YxJ2UptkufOF8IckmtMYfboOfTNUFyankzGmEe32etAmgmmTVSej90ZseGzO7Izw-r05sbOChyNVd6O3T0JDcpCufzvtBMu8dqNGcr0OH3CHno4JV6cc79cMa/s1600-h/celebrity-pictures-jabba-the-hutt-weight-watchers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4D6PPqdGu2-Jx4C1lkk5YxJ2UptkufOF8IckmtMYfboOfTNUFyankzGmEe32etAmgmmTVSej90ZseGzO7Izw-r05sbOChyNVd6O3T0JDcpCufzvtBMu8dqNGcr0OH3CHno4JV6cc79cMa/s320/celebrity-pictures-jabba-the-hutt-weight-watchers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428945078923369186" border="0" /></a><br /><br />6. I have been a "Gold Member" in WeightWatchers three times. In total, I have lost 10 stone over the years (not all in one go!) and put it all back on each time. I swing from a size 8-18 like a yoyo. I developed an eating disorder in my late twenties and used to eat laxatives as if they were sweets. I went to the doctor for help after a particularly embarrassing event which I won't go into detail about here...<br /><br />7. Last but not least, I am terrified of wasps and bees. When I was younger, I got stung and had a bad allergic reaction to it. I have been known to get out of a car because of a wasp flying in... This also extends to a fear of all flying insects, including mosquitoes. I tortured my partner and the older two on holidays in Turkey once as wouldn't let them open the windows in the apartment and we had no aircon... I didn't trust the plug in devices, the sprays, or the electronic mosquito repellent I had brought... so we sweltered for two weeks!Petuniahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08916646838240623176noreply@blogger.com15