Jumping Aboard The Pirate Train

In our house, reading is important. We have many books and I try to read the kids at least one book each day. Some days we don't manage to, so other days we read many to make up for the few missed days. M2 loves that we get a new book from Dolly Parton's Imagination Library each month. She gets super excited when the book arrives in the mail and has to look through it immediately. Christmas and birthdays the kids each get at least two books. That being said, M2 has a habit of running around while listening to me read. That, or she is looking at another book in my lap while I'm reading a story. Baby B is still at the toddling around while I read to him stage. The children's librarian has told us that despite what you may expect, the kids really are listening and absorbing as they wander.

The latest book we've been reading is The Pirate Train by Nicole Plyler Fisk. Oh my goodness, does M2 love it. So do I! Before I could even read it, she saw the cover, yanked the book out of my hand and run off. I promised her we'd read it later. That night at bedtime, she curled up in my lap and to my amazement, listened to every word. She even pointed out different animals, characters and items in the book -- without me prompting her. When we finished, she immediately wanted to read it again. I couldn't believe it. Not only was she sitting nicely in my lap looking at the book I was reading, she was interacting with it, repeating some of the words AND asked for the story again. The second time around, she was just as enthralled. Even other books she likes and enjoys have never elicited this awesome of a response. Needless to say, I was beyond happy and excited myself. After the second reading, she wanted the story again. Now, any time she sees it, she wants it read. And read again.

Unlike certain children's books, I enjoyed the pictures and story myself, too. It's written in a sing-song rhyme that fun to read out loud. The pictures are cute, too. Very colorful and bright. I had no problem at all reading it again. The pirate-speak sprinkled throughout makes the book even more fun. Seriously, what kid, or even parent, doesn't love pirates?

The theme of the Yo-Ho-Matey pirate family who has to leave their ship when the brother gets sea sickness to find a new home that fits them is adorable. Where they end up living, a pirate train, is creative and fun. The boat and train draw in kids who are into modes of transportation. M2 kept saying, "choochoo!" and, "Pirate Dad! Pirate Mom! Pirate! Arr! Tom!" while we read. Getting her to repeat words from a book is an amazing feat. A was impressed, too. My heart was melting! All of these things are huge for a child who is autistic and speech delayed. In the picture below, even one of our cats was getting in on the story telling action.

So many lessons are incorporated in The Pirate Train without taking away from the story or the fun. It doesn't feel like a lesson-filled book, though it really is. There's the lesson that family needs to stick together and work together. Another lesson that life changes but you can adapt, experience new things and still have fun. A third over-arching lesson is dealing with a move. Not to be forgotten, as a special-needs parent I picked up on the lesson that when a family member has an illness (or something that makes them different) crop up, it can be hard for the other sibling. Yet, you stick by them, get through it and won't be disappointed with the final outcome.

Even appreciating another's differences is mentioned with a homeless dog who is missing a leg. The family yet again doesn't blink an eye -- they help him adapt and make him a member of the family. 

Lessons the author intentionally included are a love travel and a sense of adventure, an avoidance of gender stereotyping (dad cooks, mom and dad clean, both steer the ship or train), healthy body image (no impossibly tiny waists or body types on the females in this book!), and a love of animals. Later books in the series (a series of awesome books, just waiting to be published -- YAY!) tackle diversity as well.

None of the lessons make the book cumbersome or are too involved. Perfect for the target audience of kids who are in the picture book stage. It's especially good for young autistic kids like M2 who may not be able to yet grasp complicated lessons or sit through a typical story book.

With all the lessons, The Pirate Train can be applied to many different situations and families. Or, it can just be a fun book to read. For kids that aren't yet at the grasping a lesson stage, the rhyme of the story is sheer fun.

The story behind the story is heartwarming. Author and English teacher Nicole Plyler Fisk has a young son, Jack, who loves pirates and Thomas the Train. Disheartened with the area public schools, she set up homeschool for him. His first project? Write his own book. She and her son sat  down and wrote the story together. (No wonder it's such a great book kids love, right?!) I'd give him an A+ on that project! The book is modeled around the Fisk family of mom, dad, big sis and little brother.

If you can't tell already, this book is a new favorite in our family that is going to be read often and kept on the bookshelf for years to come. I'm excited to read the rest of the series with M2 as soon as it's available. You can get your own copy here. Stop by and visit Nicole's site as well, she shares fun updates and promo codes as they're available.

Remember to vote for me by clicking the pink Top Mommy Blogs banner below then clicking the ORANGE button on the next page (or the vote won't count). Thanks!

This post and giveaway are sponsored  by Nicole Plyler Fisk. All opinions are my own. 

Jumping Aboard The Pirate Train

In our house, reading is important. We have many books and I try to read the kids at least one book each day. Some days we don't manage to, so other days we read many to make up for the few missed days. M2 loves that we get a new book from Dolly Parton's Imagination Library each month. She gets super excited when the book arrives in the mail and has to look through it immediately. Christmas and birthdays the kids each get at least two books. That being said, M2 has a habit of running around while listening to me read. That, or she is looking at another book in my lap while I'm reading a story. Baby B is still at the toddling around while I read to him stage. The children's librarian has told us that despite what you may expect, the kids really are listening and absorbing as they wander. (Be sure to check out the giveaway at the bottom of this post!)

The latest book we've been reading is The Pirate Train by Nicole Plyler Fisk. Oh my goodness, does M2 love it. So do I! Before I could even read it, she saw the cover, yanked the book out of my hand and run off. I promised her we'd read it later. That night at bedtime, she curled up in my lap and to my amazement, listened to every word. She even pointed out different animals, characters and items in the book -- without me prompting her. When we finished, she immediately wanted to read it again. I couldn't believe it. Not only was she sitting nicely in my lap looking at the book I was reading, she was interacting with it, repeating some of the words AND asked for the story again. The second time around, she was just as enthralled. Even other books she likes and enjoys have never elicited this awesome of a response. Needless to say, I was beyond happy and excited myself. After the second reading, she wanted the story again. Now, any time she sees it, she wants it read. And read again.

Unlike certain children's books, I enjoyed the pictures and story myself, too. It's written in a sing-song rhyme that fun to read out loud. The pictures are cute, too. Very colorful and bright. I had no problem at all reading it again. The pirate-speak sprinkled throughout makes the book even more fun. Seriously, what kid, or even parent, doesn't love pirates?

The theme of the Yo-Ho-Matey pirate family who has to leave their ship when the brother gets sea sickness to find a new home that fits them is adorable. Where they end up living, a pirate train, is creative and fun. The boat and train draw in kids who are into modes of transportation. M2 kept saying, "choochoo!" and, "Pirate Dad! Pirate Mom! Pirate! Arr! Tom!" while we read. Getting her to repeat words from a book is an amazing feat. A was impressed, too. My heart was melting! All of these things are huge for a child who is autistic and speech delayed. In the picture below, even one of our cats was getting in on the story telling action.

So many lessons are incorporated in The Pirate Train without taking away from the story or the fun. It doesn't feel like a lesson-filled book, though it really is. There's the lesson that family needs to stick together and work together. Another lesson that life changes but you can adapt, experience new things and still have fun. A third over-arching lesson is dealing with a move. Not to be forgotten, as a special-needs parent I picked up on the lesson that when a family member has an illness (or something that makes them different) crop up, it can be hard for the other sibling. Yet, you stick by them, get through it and won't be disappointed with the final outcome.

Even appreciating another's differences is mentioned with a homeless dog who is missing a leg. The family yet again doesn't blink an eye -- they help him adapt and make him a member of the family. 

Lessons the author intentionally included are a love travel and a sense of adventure, an avoidance of gender stereotyping (dad cooks, mom and dad clean, both steer the ship or train), healthy body image (no impossibly tiny waists or body types on the females in this book!), and a love of animals. Later books in the series (a series of awesome books, just waiting to be published -- YAY!) tackle diversity as well.

None of the lessons make the book cumbersome or are too involved. Perfect for the target audience of kids who are in the picture book stage. It's especially good for young autistic kids like M2 who may not be able to yet grasp complicated lessons or sit through a typical story book.

With all the lessons, The Pirate Train can be applied to many different situations and families. Or, it can just be a fun book to read. For kids that aren't yet at the grasping a lesson stage, the rhyme of the story is sheer fun.

The story behind the story is heartwarming. Author and English teacher Nicole Plyler Fisk has a young son, Jack, who loves pirates and Thomas the Train. Disheartened with the area public schools, she set up homeschool for him. His first project? Write his own book. She and her son sat  down and wrote the story together. (No wonder it's such a great book kids love, right?!) I'd give him an A+ on that project! The book is modeled around the Fisk family of mom, dad, big sis and little brother.

If you can't tell already, this book is a new favorite in our family that is going to be read often and kept on the bookshelf for years to come. I'm excited to read the rest of the series with M2 as soon as it's available. You can get your own copy here. Through tonight, January 13, get 15 percent off with the code NEWYOU15. You can also enter to win a copy by entering below. Enter soon, the giveaway ends at midnight January 19, 2016! Stop by and visit Nicole's site as well, she shares fun updates and promo codes as they're available.

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Remember to vote for me by clicking the pink Top Mommy Blogs banner below. Thanks!

This post and giveaway are sponsored  by Nicole Plyler Fisk. All opinions are my own. 

Getting Speech and Occupational Therapies After Age 3

M2 aged out of early intervention therapy a few months ago. The early intervention provided her with in-home speech and occupational therapy once a week, alternating. Once you hit age 3 though, that all goes away. Boom. Diagnosis or not, needing help or not -- Third birthday? GONE. Then what happens? The child still needs therapy, that need doesn't magically go away. What is next? Where do you turn?

At that point, the therapy goes through the school district. I never even knew that until M2 was going to need the help. The catch is: Getting the therapies isn't automatic. The child has to qualify based on the district's specifications (each does things differently) and it's a long process. It all starts with a call to the school district to tell them your child is aging out of early intervention services. Just because your child may be diagnosed  by a doctor with ASD or he/she has been getting therapy, it doesn't mean the school district will automatically agree that it's needed. They look at things from more of a school functionality aspect. If the issues won't later interfere with schooling, the child won't qualify.

Since August, I've been taking M2 for all kinds of testing to see if she'd qualify to get into the therapy provided by the school district. There were all kinds of hoops to jump through. Speech, cognitive, psychology, behavior, on and on the testing went. Once all the evaluations were finally complete, I met with the team to discuss what they'd determined. Then, we met to discuss what the best next step for her. I spent months worrying about what would happen if the team didn't say she qualified. A and I, along with her early intervention team, knew without a doubt that in order for her to progress she needed to get into the school district's program.

Without it, we didn't now what we would do or what would happen with M2. A private speech therapist and OT alone wouldn't cut it for what her needs are. Plus, those therapies run $150 plus a session and often (like in our case) are not covered by insurance to the extent needed, if at all. Her early intervention team said we had one big thing in our favor: Our school district has the absolute best programs for special needs kids around. It is the most understanding, willing to work with parents and eager to actually help the kids. That didn't stop me from worrying. Every meeting, evaluation, phone call -- anything -- I pleaded M2's case, advocated for her and fought to ensure she'd get the services she needs.

I was lucky that the team working with her saw everything I do and agreed wholeheartedly with everything I said and suggested. In the end, the school district agreed with her autism diagnosis, gave her that diagnosis for school purposes, and agreed that she has a severe speech delay that must be addressed. Her vocabulary, motor planning and clarity simply aren't there. All agreed that she'd need to extra help through the programs the district offers to get her ready for kindergarten. It was all enough to get her into special needs "preschool."

It's called preschool because it goes through the school district, but really, it's speech and occupational therapy twice a week for an hour in a group setting along with one-on-one speech therapy six times a month. The idea is to address the issues she has, expose her to more kids and get her ready to enter kindergarten in a few years.

Her "class" is made up of four or five other special-needs kids. With three teachers and a speech pathologist on hand at all times, it's as close to one-on-one as you can get! During the hour, the teachers work with the kids on things like sitting down to eat, interacting appropriately with peers and adults, sitting in a circle, following directions, playing appropriately -- I honestly don't even know what all she'll be doing yet! With all the time it took to set everything up, M2 has only had two sessions before the holidays started.

Eventually, she'll move up into a larger group then into a group that is a mix of special-needs and typical children. It's a ladder process to slowly get her to where she needs to be, based on her own needs and timeline. As she progresses, more learning and and preschool-type activities are added in addition to the therapies.

We wrapped up her early intervention therapies a day before her birthday and started the preschool therapy two days after. Depending on how she does, I'll most likely be finding a private speech therapist to work with her a few times a month as well. Her previous speech therapist (whom we loved) said she sees the most improvement with kids who have the school district provided therapy and private as well. Setting that up is going to be our next adventure.

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Getting Speech and Occupational Therapies After Age 3

M2 aged out of early intervention therapy a few months ago. The early intervention provided her with in-home speech and occupational therapy once a week, alternating. Once you hit age 3 though, that all goes away. Boom. Diagnosis or not, needing help or not -- Third birthday? GONE. Then what happens? The child still needs therapy, that need doesn't magically go away. What is next? Where do you turn?

At that point, the therapy goes through the school district. I never even knew that until M2 was going to need the help. The catch is: Getting the therapies isn't automatic. The child has to qualify based on the district's specifications (each does things differently) and it's a long process. It all starts with a call to the school district to tell them your child is aging out of early intervention services. Just because your child may be diagnosed  by a doctor with ASD or he/she has been getting therapy, it doesn't mean the school district will automatically agree that it's needed. They look at things from more of a school functionality aspect. If the issues won't later interfere with schooling, the child won't qualify.

Since August, I've been taking M2 for all kinds of testing to see if she'd qualify to get into the therapy provided by the school district. There were all kinds of hoops to jump through. Speech, cognitive, psychology, behavior, on and on the testing went. Once all the evaluations were finally complete, I met with the team to discuss what they'd determined. Then, we met to discuss what the best next step for her. I spent months worrying about what would happen if the team didn't say she qualified. A and I, along with her early intervention team, knew without a doubt that in order for her to progress she needed to get into the school district's program.

Without it, we didn't now what we would do or what would happen with M2. A private speech therapist and OT alone wouldn't cut it for what her needs are. Plus, those therapies run $150 plus a session and often (like in our case) are not covered by insurance to the extent needed, if at all. Her early intervention team said we had one big thing in our favor: Our school district has the absolute best programs for special needs kids around. It is the most understanding, willing to work with parents and eager to actually help the kids. That didn't stop me from worrying. Every meeting, evaluation, phone call -- anything -- I pleaded M2's case, advocated for her and fought to ensure she'd get the services she needs.

I was lucky that the team working with her saw everything I do and agreed wholeheartedly with everything I said and suggested. In the end, the school district agreed with her autism diagnosis, gave her that diagnosis for school purposes, and agreed that she has a severe speech delay that must be addressed. Her vocabulary, motor planning and clarity simply aren't there. All agreed that she'd need to extra help through the programs the district offers to get her ready for kindergarten. It was all enough to get her into special needs "preschool."

It's called preschool because it goes through the school district, but really, it's speech and occupational therapy twice a week for an hour in a group setting along with one-on-one speech therapy six times a month. The idea is to address the issues she has, expose her to more kids and get her ready to enter kindergarten in a few years.

Her "class" is made up of four or five other special-needs kids. With three teachers and a speech pathologist on hand at all times, it's as close to one-on-one as you can get! During the hour, the teachers work with the kids on things like sitting down to eat, interacting appropriately with peers and adults, sitting in a circle, following directions, playing appropriately -- I honestly don't even know what all she'll be doing yet! With all the time it took to set everything up, M2 has only had two sessions before the holidays started.

Eventually, she'll move up into a larger group then into a group that is a mix of special-needs and typical children. It's a ladder process to slowly get her to where she needs to be, based on her own needs and timeline. As she progresses, more learning and and preschool-type activities are added in addition to the therapies.

We wrapped up her early intervention therapies a day before her birthday and started the preschool therapy two days after. Depending on how she does, I'll most likely be finding a private speech therapist to work with her a few times a month as well. Her previous speech therapist (whom we loved) said she sees the most improvement with kids who have the school district provided therapy and private as well. Setting that up is going to be our next adventure.

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Dear Self: You're Good Enough

Since M2's diagnosis, we've had so much going on around here. Life has recently taken another turn that's had us getting used to a new normal. At the advice of her current therapists, I started the process to get her an EDCD Medicaid waiver in order to get an in-home aide to help out with her. I struggled with the decision to get the waiver and an aide. I struggled with whether or not I was a good enough mom because I needed help with her.

It simply is impossible to go out alone with her and baby B, she either runs off down the street when I try to get her in the car, gets in the car but then jumps into the front then into the back when I try to grab her, runs off where ever we go plus in the parking lot, takes off down the street when we get home or some combination of those. On really bad days, she screams getting into the car, kicks the seat, and screams bloody murder and kicks the seat as hard as she can at any stop sign or light. Not to mention all that goes on once we get to where ever we're going. We can't even go for walks because of these issues.


There are no playgroups, trips to the park, going to church to meet people and get involved with the community, story times or ANYTHING unless A is home. With his schedule, that limits much of those activities. M2 also can't be left for more than a moment at home so getting anything done, even cooking dinner, is a Herculean effort that is usually an impossibility. Even taken care of baby B is difficult. Eyes must be on her at all times. For days each week, M2, B and I end up trapped in the house, even limited as to what we can do there, because it's just not an option for me to have to decide whether to leave baby B and chase M2 or let M2 run off.

Despite all this, I still had that internal struggle. I always feel like I should be able to do everything myself. I'm a stay-at-home mom, my job is to take care of the kids. I shouldn't be needing someone else to help us out. To have an aide would mean I'm not good enough. That I'm not what I should be. Plus, the idea of having a stranger in the house didn't sit well with me. I had the idea in my head that the house would always have to look perfect, I'd have to be dressed and I'd always have to be on top of my game at the peak of perfection to prove I'm a good mom. Plus, would the aide think I'm just a bad mom who can't handle her kid? What if she thought I was nuts and should just be able to handle everything myself? Would she be nice to M2? Would she understand M2's issues and be able to work with her? Would it really help to have an aide or would I just always feel on edge?

Every time I talked to someone through all the screenings, telling them what was going on, why we needed an aide, I felt as though what I was really telling them was, "I'm not good enough. I need help so that our lives will be better."

Realizing how limited we are and how little we're able to interact with the community began to change my thoughts on an aide. Deep down, I knew it was best for M2, B and for me. The stress, fear and difficulty with daily life was just too much. It wasn't fair to any of us. I pushed my second-guessing away and kept with the process. I fought every step of the way to get her the waiver. Even when I thought there was no way we'd get it, no matter how bad we truly need it.

It took three months, lots of phone calls, screenings and red tape to get the waiver approved. Let me tell you, people are not very helpful with getting services approved. Most didn't even seem to know let alone understand the process. Once the waiver was in place, it took more time to actually find an agency willing to work with a child. Most don't. Then of the few that did, only one even had someone they'd be able to send over. After more screenings, we were set up with an interim aide to start as the agency doesn't have someone available for all the days and times we need and for which we qualify.

The aide started with us three weeks ago. Since she's been here for a few hours two days a week, things are starting to change. I've left the house with the kids for the first time without A and without there being major issues. The aide is there to make sure M2 stays safe. That is her job. That takes away so much of my fear and the safety hazards we encounter in every day life. We're starting to venture out now, rather than being constantly trapped. I'm not as stressed when the aide is here. Once we have an aide for all the days and hours we need, there will be even less stress and fear. I even have an adult to talk to! The aide is kind to M2, understands the situation, and sees exactly why we need her here.

The house isn't always perfect. And that's ok. I'm not always even dressed or showered when the aide arrives. That's ok, too. She doesn't care. She's here to help, not to judge. She's offered great advice of how we can get other help we need, too. Not only is she there for M2, she supports me as well. I have an ally in making our lives what they should be rather than having to be a shut in avoiding danger. I've realized we all need the aide.

 And that's ok.

There's no shame in needing another set of eyes and hands.

I am a good mom.

I do my best.

We all need a little extra help sometimes with the difficult parts of our lives.

Realizing the help is needed and taking the steps to get it isn't failing.

I wasn't telling those people I suck. I was just telling them we need help.

Having an aide is doing exactly what I should be doing: what's best for my kids.

I am good enough.


Please remember to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs by clicking the pink button below!


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Dear Self: You're Good Enough

Since M2's diagnosis, we've had so much going on around here. Life has recently taken another turn that's had us getting used to a new normal. At the advice of her current therapists, I started the process to get her an EDCD Medicaid waiver in order to get an in-home aide to help out with her. I struggled with the decision to get the waiver and an aide. I struggled with whether or not I was a good enough mom because I needed help with her.

It simply is impossible to go out alone with her and baby B, she either runs off down the street when I try to get her in the car, gets in the car but then jumps into the front then into the back when I try to grab her, runs off where ever we go plus in the parking lot, takes off down the street when we get home or some combination of those. On really bad days, she screams getting into the car, kicks the seat, and screams bloody murder and kicks the seat as hard as she can at any stop sign or light. Not to mention all that goes on once we get to where ever we're going. We can't even go for walks because of these issues.


There are no playgroups, trips to the park, going to church to meet people and get involved with the community, story times or ANYTHING unless A is home. With his schedule, that limits much of those activities. M2 also can't be left for more than a moment at home so getting anything done, even cooking dinner, is a Herculean effort that is usually an impossibility. Even taken care of baby B is difficult. Eyes must be on her at all times. For days each week, M2, B and I end up trapped in the house, even limited as to what we can do there, because it's just not an option for me to have to decide whether to leave baby B and chase M2 or let M2 run off.

Despite all this, I still had that internal struggle. I always feel like I should be able to do everything myself. I'm a stay-at-home mom, my job is to take care of the kids. I shouldn't be needing someone else to help us out. To have an aide would mean I'm not good enough. That I'm not what I should be. Plus, the idea of having a stranger in the house didn't sit well with me. I had the idea in my head that the house would always have to look perfect, I'd have to be dressed and I'd always have to be on top of my game at the peak of perfection to prove I'm a good mom. Plus, would the aide think I'm just a bad mom who can't handle her kid? What if she thought I was nuts and should just be able to handle everything myself? Would she be nice to M2? Would she understand M2's issues and be able to work with her? Would it really help to have an aide or would I just always feel on edge?

Every time I talked to someone through all the screenings, telling them what was going on, why we needed an aide, I felt as though what I was really telling them was, "I'm not good enough. I need help so that our lives will be better."

Realizing how limited we are and how little we're able to interact with the community began to change my thoughts on an aide. Deep down, I knew it was best for M2, B and for me. The stress, fear and difficulty with daily life was just too much. It wasn't fair to any of us. I pushed my second-guessing away and kept with the process. I fought every step of the way to get her the waiver. Even when I thought there was no way we'd get it, no matter how bad we truly need it.

It took three months, lots of phone calls, screenings and red tape to get the waiver approved. Let me tell you, people are not very helpful with getting services approved. Most didn't even seem to know let alone understand the process. Once the waiver was in place, it took more time to actually find an agency willing to work with a child. Most don't. Then of the few that did, only one even had someone they'd be able to send over. After more screenings, we were set up with an interim aide to start as the agency doesn't have someone available for all the days and times we need and for which we qualify.

The aide started with us three weeks ago. Since she's been here for a few hours two days a week, things are starting to change. I've left the house with the kids for the first time without A and without there being major issues. The aide is there to make sure M2 stays safe. That is her job. That takes away so much of my fear and the safety hazards we encounter in every day life. We're starting to venture out now, rather than being constantly trapped. I'm not as stressed when the aide is here. Once we have an aide for all the days and hours we need, there will be even less stress and fear. I even have an adult to talk to! The aide is kind to M2, understands the situation, and sees exactly why we need her here.

The house isn't always perfect. And that's ok. I'm not always even dressed or showered when the aide arrives. That's ok, too. She doesn't care. She's here to help, not to judge. She's offered great advice of how we can get other help we need, too. Not only is she there for M2, she supports me as well. I have an ally in making our lives what they should be rather than having to be a shut in avoiding danger. I've realized we all need the aide.

 And that's ok.

There's no shame in needing another set of eyes and hands.

I am a good mom.

I do my best.

We all need a little extra help sometimes with the difficult parts of our lives.

Realizing the help is needed and taking the steps to get it isn't failing.

I wasn't telling those people I suck. I was just telling them we need help.

Having an aide is doing exactly what I should be doing: what's best for my kids.

I am good enough.


Please remember to vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs by clicking the pink button below!


Affiliate Links

Dear Know-it-All Mom: Yes, My Child Actually is Autistic

Since I told you my child is special needs, you've turned into Professor Sanctimommy McKnowItAll. While you pretend to be supportive, say you know all about and have experience with autism, and claim you're not judging, your backhanded, know-it-all comments have given you away.  Obviously, you don’t really understand that, like children, not all special needs are exactly the same. Especially when it comes to autism spectrum disorder.

Sorry, not sorry, that you don't understand that symptoms aren't obvious 24/7 365 and that there are are some good hours or days among the bad. (Even though you claim to know all about ASD.) Kids don't have to constantly be raging terrors to have issues. It's a bigger picture kind of thing here, and you're not seeing the bigger picture. I also am under no obligation to give you all the details so you can (maybe) see that bigger picture. It is none of you damn business.

You may not see what the professionals and we, as her parents, see. That doesn't make you right. It means you aren't an expert or someone who knows what to look for. Unless you're around my child as often as I am or have a qualifying degree, stuff it.
When it comes to Facebook, I'm allowed to post when my child does well and makes some progress. Contrary to what you seem to think, you can say good things about your child even when you're struggling to accept a difficult diagnosis. I refuse to bash my child publicly or ignore her existence on social media. What I do post on Facebook doesn't give you the right to claim I'm lying about the diagnosis.

It takes all my inner strength and resolve to not ream you a new one every time you argue with me, trying to claim that my child is fine, all kids do what she does, or --even worse-- that she's just a brat. Let's not even go there about your comments about it not being my child at all, it's just me being a bad mom who doesn't want to face up to that fact. That just would not end well for you.

Yes, my child got a diagnosis fast. No, that doesn't mean that the doctors are wrong/not good enough/I'm lying/whatever crap you come up with. It means that my child's issues were just. that. obvious. to someone who knows what the heck they're talking about.

By the way, my getting help doesn't make me a bad mother. I want my child to have all the help she can get in order to have the happiest, best life she possibly can. That's so nice that another mom you know with a special needs kid never got help or even considered it. It's her choice, I'm sure she's doing what she thinks is best. The same that I am.

Finding out my child has special needs isn't something you should be congratulating me on. The diagnosis is a devastating thing to hear. Having an answer and knowing it's not all in my head is wonderful. On the other hand, being told it's all in my head and that I can just do XYZ to make her life better would be even more wonderful. Her issues aren't going to go away. There's no out growing it (yeah, you're wrong on that count, too). Having a special needs child isn't cool or fun. Knowing your child is struggling and will struggle throughout her life rips out your heart. Please don't minimize that and act like this is something that I wanted as you accuse me of lying about it in the next breath.

By the way, lying about the diagnosis? Why would I do that? I could show you all the paperwork with the evaluation and diagnosis. Could, but I won't. Because it's none. of. your. business. My child's medical records are private, not for you to gawk at.

Telling me, "Oh, it could be worse," trivializes the struggle my family, especially my daughter, is going through and will continue to go through. The situation can always be worse, that doesn't mean our struggles aren't real or important.

My child being diagnosed as special needs doesn't make what you go through any less difficult. It doesn't effect your life. Yet, after lacking any understanding and being totally unsupportive, you tell me, "I just can't deal with it." You just can't deal with knowing my child is special needs? Well, I just can't deal with your attitude. No parent should have to defend their child, themselves, or their child's diagnosis.

At the end of the day, my child is still the same wonderful, amazing, awesome person she was before the diagnosis. She's got you beat in spades, Professor.

To find out how everything mentioned in this post turned out, read my follow up here.

Read more about our journey with autism here.





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Recognizing Autism Spectrum Disorder

Since I've started talking about M2's autism spectrum disorder (ASD) journey (read more here and here) I've had a number of people ask what her specific symptoms are. Even family and friends who don't have experience with autism, or who don't see her often, have asked. I think what the questions stem from is many parents really wondering, "How do you know? What is different so I can see if my kid is on the spectrum, too?" Autism hides from plain view. It isn't easy to spot like some other disabilities. ASD kids look like any other kid on the playground unless you know what you're looking for so it's a normal reaction to want to know how to recognize ASD. With how prevalent it is now, parents want to know how to tell if their own child may have it.

Every single child and case is different. Some kids show symptoms others don't. Some may have many, some may only have a few. Any of the stereotypes you hear about are just that: stereotypes. With ASD, it's really a big picture kind of thing when it comes to autism. Since it's a spectrum, the severity varies greatly as well. Cases toward the high-functioning end may be harder to spot. There is simply no set-in-stone checklist to know for sure if your child has autism spectrum disorder. The best way to find out if your child does have autism spectrum disorder is to take them to see a developmental pediatrician. These are the experts who can give you answers, who know what is neurotypical and what isn't, who know when it's simply a quirk or something more. A and I suspected, but didn't know for sure, until we took M2 to the developmental pediatrician (read about what that was like here).



With M2, we noticed early on that she didn't really play with toys. I always wondered why there are even toys for babies when they do nothing with them and show absolutely no interest. She was also dead focused on learning to do one thing at a time and that is all she'd spend her time doing. Each day, she'd spend almost all her time trying to sit up. Then crawl. Then stand. And so on. Forget helping her with anything, either. Everything had to be done by her, her way, end of story. All of this we pushed aside, figuring she was just determined and independent. Even now, she doesn't play with toys as much as kids usually do. Once we started seeing how different baby B is, we started to wonder.

The big tip off with her is her speech. Her development in this area is far behind what it should be. At first, we thought it was a typical speech delay, which many children have. Then her therapist started pointing out how she doesn't fit in with anything you'd expect with a typical speech delay. As the therapist put it, a whole book could be written just on M2's speech delay. Now we know that the delay stems from the autism.

What sealed it and convinced us something more than M2 just being M2 and having a speech delay was the major changes in behavior. Loud noises bother her. Random noises bother her. She may hear a clock ding the hour proceeds to scream, cry, hold her ears, stomp, kick things, hit and pound the wall. Or, she'll hear the clock and end up in a tight ball on the floor shaking and screaming, "ear ear ear" (well, her sound for ear). Yet another time, she may be fine. The same can happen if she hears traffic, a bird, a dog bark...anything that at that time bothers her. Rain or thunderstorms are sure to set her off. She's not scared of them, it's the sound that is way too much for her to handle. Her senses become over loaded. Similarly, if we're out in public and another child starts throwing a fit, screaming, crying, etc., she'll react to that as well. The noise, plus knowing that something is wrong, overloads her. It's one of the big reasons we so appreciate, and are totally for, people removing misbehaving or upset kids from the situation. When you don't remove your child, mine then ends up terrified and upset so we have to remove her. Our whole day gets ruined when people are inconsiderate like that. The longer the noise lasts, the worse she gets.

Hiding from pictures

Crowds and/or places she doesn't know don't usually go over well in M2's world. To put it simply, she doesn't like them. How she reacts to them are one thing friends and family will point out to try to argue she can't possibly be autistic. People seem to expect an autistic child to have a typical yelling, screaming, kicking, hitting melt down. As I said from the start, each kid is different though. For M2, she shuts down. She does anything she can to get away from the situation. She runs away with no care where we are or where she is going. She won't respond to anyone. She crawls into B's stroller, covers her eyes and hides. If you touch her, she is even more likely to take off. Touch also sends her into a screaming fit. She goes into her own little world, no facial expression, no reaction, no anything.

Once people realize this and actually look at how she's acting next to other kids her age, it's very obvious something is off. As you can imagine, we have to be very careful with where we take her. I also don't take both kids out alone. It's too much of a safety risk when I don't know when or if she'll all of a sudden take off, leaving me having to decide whether to stay with the baby or go after her. I can't be assured that if I look away at something on a self in a store or to help baby B for a second that she'll still be there. She's fast. We always make sure someone is watching JUST her, ready to spring, so that she remains safe.

Upset M2

With other kids, M2 may or may not interact. Most often, she's the one wanting to be alone and do her own thing. A quick hello or a hug, then she's done. I'm not even allowed to play with her most of the time. When I try, she gets mad or upset. Her toys and the decorations in her room are often to be found lined up as well. She'll also be the kid walking on tip toe and toe first.

In M2's case, there are more symptoms than these (such as she hates having her picture taken, is picky with food and has to have things done a certain way). This post would be insanely long if I talked about every one! It's also important to keep in mind that every day with M2 is different, as with most ASD children. Some are good, some are bad, some are very bad. ASD kids don't always show symptoms daily, let alone constantly. It's like Forrest's box of chocolates each day -- you never know what you're going to get. Every day, we start anew and learn more.





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The Journey with Autism Begins

Through sharing our story and being honest and open, I hope it may help someone else going through similar. In light of that, I want to share more of M2's, and our, story. Starting with the day she was diagnosed as autistic and our journey officially began.

As I mentioned here, she was diagnosed with autism, mild-moderate, just over a month ago. That day was one of the most difficult of my life. We went in for baby B's well-child appointment the day before and took M2 along. While we were there, I told the doctor (they have the same pediatrician) that I'd talked to her early-intervention therapy team. All of them recommended that she get screened for autism, especially the therapist she's known the longest and who knows her the best. I was fully prepared to have to argue with the doctor about the screening, then to have to fight with insurance to get the referral pushed through. When the doctor agreed immediately, I was shocked. When he said that there was an available appointment the next morning if I was willing to drive the hour back out to do it, I was dumbfounded. Rather than waiting another month or more for an appointment, I jumped at the one for the next morning. I figured I should before I chickened out and put it off again, as I'd already done for months fearing what we'd be told.

The developmental pediatrician wanted to see all her assessments from the early-intervention team as that would give him a better picture of what all is going on with her. Those therapists see her weekly in our home so they get a pretty good picture, one a doctor who has never met her might not. I quickly called her coordinator to get her assessments, figuring at 4 p.m. there was no way we'd get them. Amazingly, her coordinator was there and sent them over via email immediately.

A and I decided that taking B along with us to the appointment would just be distracting from M2. Instead, he stayed home with B the next morning while I drove M2 the hour back to her developmental pediatrician appointment. I spend the most time with her and have been coordinating her care, so it just made the most sense for me to take her. At the appointment, the doctor got to see the full M2 as she was bouncing off the walls and doing many of the things we were concerned about. She did not sit still for 30 seconds the entire appointment.

I managed to answer all the doctor's questions while keeping M2 from running out of the place. We spent hours there going over everything. I wasn't sure if we'd get a diagnosis that day. I already knew from A's coworker going through the process with his son that if the doctor had any questions or doubts, there would need to be more appointments, possibly with additional specialists. The developmental pediatrician told me that he had seen enough, plus with her previous evaluations, that he was confident in making a diagnosis then.The moment he said, "diagnosis," I knew I wasn't going to like what he said next.

He said there was no question that she was autistic. As soon as I heard that, my stomach dropped and my heart broke. I started telling him things like, "But sometimes she's fine. This isn't all the time!" and, "But she does XYZ." Anything and everything I said, the doctor simply responded nicely with, "That just proves my diagnosis and that I'm right even more. That's exactly what autism is. There is no way you could be making all this up or have it wrong, it's too obvious."

I wanted to cry at that point. Mind you, I am not a crier at. all. Here my happy little girl is bouncing (literally) all over the room and off the walls, as a doctor tells me she is autistic. A diagnosis that changes her life and ours. Something that won't go away, can't be treated with a pill, and that she will struggle with her entire life.

I asked the doctor where he'd place her on the spectrum. He said that it wasn't too important, it was more important to get her set up with therapy and get her help, but that he'd place her as mild-moderate. As for B, he said he is at a higher risk but that I should already be seeing some signs. The signs B is showing us so far are ones that tipped us off to the fact that something is going on with M2. He's totally different from her so far. Things M2 did as a baby that we excused as being just her, something she'd grow out of (but didn't) or just her showing her independence were really red flags. There were so many that we didn't see until we saw how B is and until M2's behavior started making the autism too obvious to ignore. Still, especially after his head injury soon after birth, we worry that he will have special needs as well.

I spent the rest of the appointment trying not to cry in front of this doctor, and especially not in front of M2. How do you act after a doctor tells you that about your child? If I cried, I'd look hysterical and upset M2. If I acted like I didn't care, I'd seem like an inattentive, uncaring mother. If I acted happy, I'd seem like a nut job. No emotion seemed "right" and I had no idea what to say or do. I went with the "upbeat, we can handle this" attitude, even though I was wondering how in the world we'd make it through and how in the world M2 would over come it.

The doctor explained that we needed to get her set up with therapy and that he'd be sending an overview of his diagnosis. He went over why he'd made the diagnosis, pointing out things that I'd never even noticed or equated with autism. Or even any issue. I think if M2 had been the second child and I'd had more experience with what's "normal," I would have noticed more.

After the doctor ended the appointment, a nurse came in and offered to wheel M2 around the center in a wheelchair while I waited for her pediatrician to come in and talk to me. I so appreciated having a few minutes alone. Hearing that your child has autism is difficult. Very, very difficult. I know that it could be so much worse. But that doesn't take away the hurt of what she and we are going through and will go through. No parent wants to know their child is going to struggle. Right now, we don't even know how much. We don't know when or if she'll really start talking. Speech therapy isn't working. Her delay stems from the autism and so far no techniques are working. She also has sensory, behavior and other issues. We have no idea what is to come.

M2's pediatrician came in and told me that he agreed with the diagnosis. The nurse came back with M2, who was ecstatic that she got to go for a ride. She had absolutely no idea what had been going on or how much had just changed in the instant I'd been told she is autistic. Seeing her so happy and so unaware ripped my heart out even more. She has no idea what is to come in her life or that anything is even wrong. I guess in some ways, that's really a blessing that she doesn't know.

The ride home I called A and spent trying not to cry while driving. I'm happy to have a diagnosis and to know it's not all in my head. On the other hand, I'd really have liked to be told, "Lady, your nuts. Stop doing XYZ and your child will be perfectly fine. Just get your act together." Despite that, and despite the doctor telling me that there's no way I could be making stuff up (and that I did an amazing job handling her during the appointment, he was impressed how well I managed to do so), I still wonder if maybe I'd said or done something differently, he wouldn't have given that diagnosis. It's hard not to second guess everything and to wonder.

Since the diagnosis, I've gotten lots of comments and advice. Some downright upsetting, nasty and unsupportive from people from whom I actually expected the most support. Some way off base as the person simply doesn't understand autism or is a family member who also doesn't want her to struggle. Others very, very helpful. Our family and closest friends are offering the support they can. As you read here, one of M2's godmothers is on the spectrum herself. Her reply when being told of the diagnosis was, "Well, I guess she's really lucky to have me as god mom!" And she is. I know Lindsey is going to help her so much through her journey. None of her family or friends are treating her any differently. Family who initially questioned the diagnosis are on board and supporting her once I explained what was going on better. Her uncle asked me why we'd never told him what was going on sooner, when she was a baby, so he would have known and been able to maybe do something. I told him it was because we honestly didn't even realize it ourselves. I think deep down we wondered, but didn't want it to be true.

We still don't want it to be true. I still hope we'll find out in the future that the doctor was wrong. Daily, though, I see why he's right. I also remind myself often of the best, most supportive, and helpful thing I've been told since she was diagnosed as autistic. As soon as we found out, I told her therapists who'd been waiting to hear. One told me, "Remember, she's still the same awesome little girl who you love so much. Having the diagnosis doesn't change her at all. And it doesn't change how much you love her." And she's right. My little girl is freaking amazing.

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The Journey with Autism Begins

Through sharing our story and being honest and open, I hope it may help someone else going through similar. In light of that, I want to share more of M2's, and our, story. Starting with the day she was diagnosed as autistic and our journey officially began.

As I mentioned here, she was diagnosed with autism, mild-moderate, just over a month ago. That day was one of the most difficult of my life. We went in for baby B's well-child appointment the day before and took M2 along. While we were there, I told the doctor (they have the same pediatrician) that I'd talked to her early-intervention therapy team. All of them recommended that she get screened for autism, especially the therapist she's known the longest and who knows her the best. I was fully prepared to have to argue with the doctor about the screening, then to have to fight with insurance to get the referral pushed through. When the doctor agreed immediately, I was shocked. When he said that there was an available appointment the next morning if I was willing to drive the hour back out to do it, I was dumbfounded. Rather than waiting another month or more for an appointment, I jumped at the one for the next morning. I figured I should before I chickened out and put it off again, as I'd already done for months fearing what we'd be told.

The developmental pediatrician wanted to see all her assessments from the early-intervention team as that would give him a better picture of what all is going on with her. Those therapists see her weekly in our home so they get a pretty good picture, one a doctor who has never met her might not. I quickly called her coordinator to get her assessments, figuring at 4 p.m. there was no way we'd get them. Amazingly, her coordinator was there and sent them over via email immediately.

A and I decided that taking B along with us to the appointment would just be distracting from M2. Instead, he stayed home with B the next morning while I drove M2 the hour back to her developmental pediatrician appointment. I spend the most time with her and have been coordinating her care, so it just made the most sense for me to take her. At the appointment, the doctor got to see the full M2 as she was bouncing off the walls and doing many of the things we were concerned about. She did not sit still for 30 seconds the entire appointment.

I managed to answer all the doctor's questions while keeping M2 from running out of the place. We spent hours there going over everything. I wasn't sure if we'd get a diagnosis that day. I already knew from A's coworker going through the process with his son that if the doctor had any questions or doubts, there would need to be more appointments, possibly with additional specialists. The developmental pediatrician told me that he had seen enough, plus with her previous evaluations, that he was confident in making a diagnosis then.The moment he said, "diagnosis," I knew I wasn't going to like what he said next.

He said there was no question that she was autistic. As soon as I heard that, my stomach dropped and my heart broke. I started telling him things like, "But sometimes she's fine. This isn't all the time!" and, "But she does XYZ." Anything and everything I said, the doctor simply responded nicely with, "That just proves my diagnosis and that I'm right even more. That's exactly what autism is. There is no way you could be making all this up or have it wrong, it's too obvious."

I wanted to cry at that point. Mind you, I am not a crier at. all. Here my happy little girl is bouncing (literally) all over the room and off the walls, as a doctor tells me she is autistic. A diagnosis that changes her life and ours. Something that won't go away, can't be treated with a pill, and that she will struggle with her entire life.

I asked the doctor where he'd place her on the spectrum. He said that it wasn't too important, it was more important to get her set up with therapy and get her help, but that he'd place her as mild-moderate. As for B, he said he is at a higher risk but that I should already be seeing some signs. The signs B is showing us so far are ones that tipped us off to the fact that something is going on with M2. He's totally different from her so far. Things M2 did as a baby that we excused as being just her, something she'd grow out of (but didn't) or just her showing her independence were really red flags. There were so many that we didn't see until we saw how B is and until M2's behavior started making the autism too obvious to ignore. Still, especially after his head injury soon after birth, we worry that he will have special needs as well.

I spent the rest of the appointment trying not to cry in front of this doctor, and especially not in front of M2. How do you act after a doctor tells you that about your child? If I cried, I'd look hysterical and upset M2. If I acted like I didn't care, I'd seem like an inattentive, uncaring mother. If I acted happy, I'd seem like a nut job. No emotion seemed "right" and I had no idea what to say or do. I went with the "upbeat, we can handle this" attitude, even though I was wondering how in the world we'd make it through and how in the world M2 would over come it.

The doctor explained that we needed to get her set up with therapy and that he'd be sending an overview of his diagnosis. He went over why he'd made the diagnosis, pointing out things that I'd never even noticed or equated with autism. Or even any issue. I think if M2 had been the second child and I'd had more experience with what's "normal," I would have noticed more.

After the doctor ended the appointment, a nurse came in and offered to wheel M2 around the center in a wheelchair while I waited for her pediatrician to come in and talk to me. I so appreciated having a few minutes alone. Hearing that your child has autism is difficult. Very, very difficult. I know that it could be so much worse. But that doesn't take away the hurt of what she and we are going through and will go through. No parent wants to know their child is going to struggle. Right now, we don't even know how much. We don't know when or if she'll really start talking. Speech therapy isn't working. Her delay stems from the autism and so far no techniques are working. She also has sensory, behavior and other issues. We have no idea what is to come.

M2's pediatrician came in and told me that he agreed with the diagnosis. The nurse came back with M2, who was ecstatic that she got to go for a ride. She had absolutely no idea what had been going on or how much had just changed in the instant I'd been told she is autistic. Seeing her so happy and so unaware ripped my heart out even more. She has no idea what is to come in her life or that anything is even wrong. I guess in some ways, that's really a blessing that she doesn't know.

The ride home I called A and spent trying not to cry while driving. I'm happy to have a diagnosis and to know it's not all in my head. On the other hand, I'd really have liked to be told, "Lady, your nuts. Stop doing XYZ and your child will be perfectly fine. Just get your act together." Despite that, and despite the doctor telling me that there's no way I could be making stuff up (and that I did an amazing job handling her during the appointment, he was impressed how well I managed to do so), I still wonder if maybe I'd said or done something differently, he wouldn't have given that diagnosis. It's hard not to second guess everything and to wonder.

Since the diagnosis, I've gotten lots of comments and advice. Some downright upsetting, nasty and unsupportive from people from whom I actually expected the most support. Some way off base as the person simply doesn't understand autism or is a family member who also doesn't want her to struggle. Others very, very helpful. Our family and closest friends are offering the support they can. As you read here, one of M2's godmothers is on the spectrum herself. Her reply when being told of the diagnosis was, "Well, I guess she's really lucky to have me as god mom!" And she is. I know Lindsey is going to help her so much through her journey. None of her family or friends are treating her any differently. Family who initially questioned the diagnosis are on board and supporting her once I explained what was going on better. Her uncle asked me why we'd never told him what was going on sooner, when she was a baby, so he would have known and been able to maybe do something. I told him it was because we honestly didn't even realize it ourselves. I think deep down we wondered, but didn't want it to be true.

We still don't want it to be true. I still hope we'll find out in the future that the doctor was wrong. Daily, though, I see why he's right. I also remind myself often of the best, most supportive, and helpful thing I've been told since she was diagnosed as autistic. As soon as we found out, I told her therapists who'd been waiting to hear. One told me, "Remember, she's still the same awesome little girl who you love so much. Having the diagnosis doesn't change her at all. And it doesn't change how much you love her." And she's right. My little girl is freaking amazing.

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