Category Archives: ABA

For the uninitiated, this is what it looks like

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I’m going to feel all lapsed-Catholic guilt for admitting this, but I sometimes despise this life. I hate that I don’t understand my own child. I despair that by my own actions I am the trigger to her crisis. I freaking loathe that this behavior doesn’t happen at school but only at home (see trigger comment).  I despise that I cannot calm her, I cannot reason with her, I cannot even give in to her because if I do this will not be a daily occurrence but an hourly one.

For the uninitiated, this is what a meltdown looks like. Continue reading →

The Last Workshop

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Part of Bridget’s program at school involves monthly workshops. An afternoon every month where all of her educational support personnel, the head of her SPED program, her preschool teacher, speech therapist and occupational therapist meet and go over every one of Bridget’s programs. Parents are encouraged to attend so we can follow through with the therapies at home. It also is a time for them to learn what behavior we are seeing at home and vice versa.  Continue reading →

Autism cannot be cured

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I believe in autism. I believe that so many families battle autism like warriors. I believe autism can be masked and I believe that autism can be hidden.

I do not think autism can be cured and question that it should be. Continue reading →

31 for 21

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I have been blogging for about four years now. In my first year my friend Michelle at Big Blueberry Eyes began hosting the 31 for 21 challenge. Although Boo doesn’t have Down Syndrome she has a lot of friends that do.  I have participated for the past three years and will do so again this year. 

And this year I am starting on time, so bonus points!

October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month. Boo’s favorite friend at school, Jillian, has Down Syndrome. Just like Boo, Jillian learned sign-language first. Did you know that most therapies used in treatment for a person with autism or developmental delay were first created to be used for children with Down Syndrome?

Sadly more fiction is out there about Down Syndrome than facts. Last summer a man (for lack of a better word) told a woman that it is immoral to have a child with Down Syndrome. He is wrong, so wrong. I am not promoting pro-life or pro-choice, it is your decision. However I urge, no beg you that if you are pregnant and told your baby might have Down Syndrome to find out the facts, find the support and find information before making a choice you cannot take back.

Here is what Down Syndrome is not:

  • Down Syndrome is not contagious
  • Although all children with Down Syndrome experience some cognitive delay, having Down Syndrome does not mean the child cannot learn 
  • Down Syndrome is not a rare disorder. In fact 1 in about every 700 children are born with Down Syndrome 
  • People with Down Syndrome are not always happy. Just like all children they have their moments
Here is what Down Syndrome is:
  • People with Down Syndrome have jobs and participate in the Community
  • People with Down Syndrome have the capacity to love, to learn and to affect change
  • People with Down Syndrome life expectancy has grown to be that of most peers.
  • People with Down Syndrome have friends, know love and just like their peers have tempers
  • According to NDSS, there are more than 400,000 persons with Down Syndrome living in the US. Chances are if you do not know someone today you will tomorrow.
  • Down Syndrome does not discriminate on race, age or income level
Having Down Syndrome is a life sentence, but it can be a beautiful life. 

The purpose of the 31 for 21 challenge is to post every day in October. Each post does not have to be Down Syndrome related. I did focus on that today to kick off the month. Please visit Michelle’s post to learn more about participating.

I hope my fellow bloggers join Michelle’s Challenge. Because awareness promotes acceptance.

https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/5M–xOyGUX4&source=uds


Just what we all want for our children. To be seen just like everyone else.



 
To learn more about Down Syndrome, please visit the National Down Syndrome Society.

My Challenge: Mardra

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I would like to introduce you to Madrathe mother of a wonderful man who has Down Syndrome. I believe every parent of a child with special needs has the same challenge. 

My Challenge: I am afraid of monsters.

As long as I can remember, I have known that a monster is not the lifelike replication of a furry puppet. I’ve also never really been afraid of Frankenstein or Dracula style monsters, fantasies that were created to emulate the human condition, but in and of themselves began as a figment of a writer’s imagination. 

No, as a young girl and still today my fear of monsters is much more palpable, cynical and real.The opportunity to see and read stories of the monsters that walk among us are everywhere and every day. 

The news is filled with them.  One example that recently crushed me involved high school boys acting monstrously towards two of their innocent and more vulnerable peers. My stomach turns now and hollows; my heart pains as it beats living with the long minutes of rape, exploitation, jeering and confusion. I type through the tears for the parents of the victims, the anger they must feel, the shame, the fear…

I scold myself. I shouldn’t have read the article. The headline told me all I didn’t want to hear or believe. 

What am I supposed to do with these images, at once swimming among and drowning my own thoughts? This being one of the many examples of monsters that look like normal human beings, living among us. And they are everywhere. Both in power and searching for power. On the streets and online. In my imagination and in real life. They have always been and always will be.

For the first 21 years of my son’s life, we lived in our own shell. I went to work and home and kept a close circle of friends. Marcus went to a private school where I felt he was most safe while learning and growing. From the first days of his life I feared that his facial features would make him easily preyed upon; I felt compelled to focus on preventing the possibility of any ill-intentioned creatures causing him harm.

The word overprotective has been lobbed in my direction and that too carries its own weight of parental guilt and consequences.

Less than two years ago I decided to put in a window to our closed off life. I finally embraced the 21st century and Marcus and I claimed our own little corner of the World Wide Web. We launched Grown Ups and Downs, with much thought, trepidation, and coffee.

So far, we are a very small clan and don’t attract much attention from monsters. But I know they are there. And, that is part of why we are there, too.  A song I often refer to for courage is “Hands” by Jewel: For light does the darkness most fear.

https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/AfsS3pIDBfw&source=uds


I don’t have a great arsenal of defenses against potential monsters. I don’t have a superhero shield or a sword of steel. All I have are two things: language and love. Marcus inspires me every day by sharing his stories and his humor. He gives me his love unconditionally and he accepts me when I am curled up and hiding under the blankets. He reminds me when I rant that, “No one is perfect, Mom.”

Monsters feed themselves lies and vomit it upon others. Monsters are even afraid of other monsters, which is why they huddle in packs, and commonly use whatever means available to dull their human senses.

The days when fear pulls on my shirttail and coaxes me to hide, Marcus shows me how his light can shine and warm others who may also be afraid. He tells me dreams the monsters could not believe, and we climb towards those dreams.

I know the monsters’ presence will grow with us and there are days they strike. There will continue to be days the when monsters touch both those I do and do not know and leave me bruised and shaken in their wake as well.

I do not foresee a day when I won’t be afraid of monsters. And monsters, true monsters, will not be changed.

But others, those who are looking for kindness, reasons for optimism and good news. Those who are looking to learn and have opened their minds to a spectrum of human possibility, it is for them that Marcus’ light shines the truths of love and life’s potential. His enthusiasm and ambitions take a little bit of power and energy from the darkness monsters feed upon: ignorance, fear, and misunderstanding. It is with Marcus by my side that we aim to show from our little corner of the world a life of innocence, of ambitions, of love, and try to shine brighter yet these things into the world. These are the only weapons we have and we wield them with hope.
In the end, only kindness matters…
 

Marcus and his mom Mardra

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When Mardra sent me her Challenge I immediately thought of Robert Sayler. Then the horrific parody of the ALS Challenge was done to a young autistic man. Yes, cruelty happens, but when your child is unable to communicate, when their very being is something that can be preyed upon you live with another fear. I send Abby to school every day knowing she could be bullied, targeted and hurt. Yet I know I have provided the tools she needs to alert myself, her father or a trusted adult to keep her as safe as possible. David teachers her self-defense and drills into her the need to be aware of her surroundings. Yet, I know with all the tools we give her a Sandy Hook, a 9/11 or a Boston Marathon could happen. Or worse.


With Boo the fears are different. Boo cannot tell me what happened. For example last week she fell and scuffed her knee. She told me her therapist at school “pushed slide”. I knew that probably didn’t happen. When I asked her therapist the next morning, I said Boo said you pushed her off the slide. David was there and said no, I was walking her to the car and she tripped! We all had a chuckle over it. Boo bruises easily, she is always getting a bump or scratch. Recently she had one on her back. It turns out Abby dropped her. No biggie, but reading Mardra’s challenge reminds me that some day it might be. That Boo needs the language because one day it could be her that some high school bully pranks with a bucket of feces. Or worse. If you have time, check out Mardra’s article on the Huffington Post. It’s not just the monsters out there, it’s the people who say our children need to be hidden. 

You can find Mardra and Marcus on the Grown Ups and Downs Blog, Facebook & Twitter.

What's your challenge is a series that was inspired by a program I created at Abby's school. I am amazed at how honest and hopeful the challenges have been. Thank you to all who have contributed. To submit your challenge, please e-mail me at firebailey@gmail.com

Sometimes

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**Warning Rant Ahead**


Some times….I hate this life. I hate that as much as I love Abby I fear those teenage years. I hate that one day she will go through a period of her life where we will not understand one another.

But I accept that. 

I will not effing accept is that I HATE in capital and bold letters that doctors will never show concern for Bridget. That she has to have some mysterious swelling that one doctor tells me to call another doctor about who tells me to call yet another specialist about. That when I finally get her into the vascular clinic she is seen by one doctor and fourteen medical students/fellows and I am told that her vasomotor instability is not that big of a deal. “A LOT” of kids have something “like” this phenomenon and not to worry. When asked if I should be worried that it could be happening while she sleeps and is it fatal, I was told no. I told them they would be the first person I called should they be wrong.

No parent (and I am not looking for a poor Kerri thing here) should be told that. That without any testing, with a brief exam that their child is fine. Parents should not be made to feel like we are bothering doctors. 

We are the reason they can afford their student loans, vacation homes and alimony bills. 

Bridget has SIXTEEN different specialists. Why the freaking hell do I have to call them? They are all at the same flipping hospital. Can they not call one another and chat, is that too much to ask?

And why, dear God why, do they refer to one another and then disagree? Why must I always be the advocate, the voice of reason and the fingers of Google. Why do I have to always be vigilant? The one who e-mails and calls cardiology, genetics, rhuematology, neurology, GI, neuro-urology (yes, there is such a thing), pulmonology? Why do they think that because it is NOT life threatening it doesn’t impact her life?

 Not that she “suffers”. There are children with disease, cancer and deformities that have a life so much more difficult. I completely get how lucky we are and how selfish I am for getting pissy that she has to endure things that really are not that bad in the scheme of things.  Recently she got another quirk, not an ailment or symptom really. But just one more thing to add to her Booness. I said she already had 15 why add one more. 

This was not the life I expected.

To constantly be second-guessing myself. And the Harvard Graduates.

To wonder if I push too hard or not enough.

To cry because children are supposed to be beings of joy before they are teenagers.

To be at my wits end because although I love Bridget for who she is I hate the fact that I don’t know why she is the way she is. That we need to know the why so we can give her the best life she deserves to live. Just like her sister.

To have to physically hold my child down for two hours while she screams during a test of her bladder function. 

Because as much as I love my child sometimes I resent that she isn’t perfect.  That she isn’t easy. That she, with all her advances, cannot keep up with where life has placed us.

Because I am not capable of being the perfect mom that can handle everything.

Because sometimes I cannot even handle my beautiful, awesome, perfect daughter.

And I am sorry. Because sometimes I effing resent it. I fucking hate that this is our life. A life where we know our beautiful daughter will always struggle. That our lives are scheduled around school, therapies, doctors appointments and not play dates, gymnastics and ballet. 

We will struggle with Boo. For freaking ever. This will not end. That although our children are always our children Bridget will forever be our child and not the mother of our grandchildren.

That I look into Boo’s eyes and see how beautiful she is yet think if only….

***End Rant***


You are not alone

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A year ago, Kelli Stapeleton failed to kill herself and her daughter. Issy recovered from her injuries and Kelli went to jail awaiting trial. Yesterday it is reported she plead guilty. Before you judge her and her situation, I ask that you read today’s Throw Back Thursday Post: Remember the Parent. Remember to offer to help before you offer to judge. Talk to that woman in the elevator. Offer support, a shoulder or empathy before offering judgement of a life you know nothing about. 

More importantly to the mom who is facing a situation like Kelli, remember you are not alone. I’m here. I’m listening. Reach out now before it is too late. There are ways to get your village of support. There are people who understand. If you are desperate, know that you are not alone. You just have to call. You might not think so, you might be in such a dark place that you think you are alone that no one understands. You are wrong, so wrong.

The Good Smaratians  1-877-870-4673 or the National Suicide Prevention  24/7 hotline for assistance: 1-877-273-TALK Or please utilize the Autism Speaks Crisis Intervention to find more avenues of support. 

Or contact me, Kerri at firebailey@gmail.com  I might not be able to help but I can listen. I can be there. I can help you find support.

Just know that you are not alone.

The post below was originally posted 23-SEP-2013

I’ve been really hesitant to write this post. First, I hate to jump on a bandwagon. I also hate being late to a party, even a pity one. Mostly, though, I do not ever want to come across as ungrateful or one that complains.

Truthfully, I have absolutely nothing to complain about. I am beyond lucky. I acknowledge that my situation is as wonderful as it is rare. I have a terrific village who supports my sanity. When life gets overwhelming I have some one within a text, an e-mail, a call or a walk to lean on. I get date nights with my husband and girls night in.

Not everyone is this lucky. They are isolated. They stay at home with their child, change how they go to Worship, do not attend family events, cannot find a babysitter and not even think about getting a pedicure. Moms like Kelli try to do everything right. They think that it is less disruptive for their child to stay home. They feel family gatherings are too hard to keep everything together and peaceful.

I do not know Kelli and only know about her circumstance from Julie, Jill and Kristi’s blogs. But I do know that not every child is like Boo. Some children with special needs are violent. They hurt themselves and those who love them the most.

When Kelli tried to kill herself and her daughter there was a lot of condemnation.  People have a difficult time understanding suicide. Let alone a mom who tries to harm her child.

The sad truth is, Kelli is not the only one out there. Statistically children in the US with special needs account for almost 10% of those who are abused. And they are abused by their caregivers. This is not just the US. World-wide disabled children are harmed more often than typical.

This is just supposition on my part, but I believe the abuse and the killings and the suicides happen because the parent has little or no support. We are very lucky where we live. Our Boo has a terrific school, after school therapies and other support. But those therapists and teachers deal with our children hitting, spitting and hurting them. Yet they love our kids. They want our children to succeed.

Parents and caregivers are becoming the walking wounded, suffering from post-traumatic stress of living and working with a child who punches, kicks, sets fire to the house and destroys relationships. We love our children. We hate what their disability makes them do.

There is a difference.

There is also a reason why persons who work with children and adults with special needs have an extremely high burnout rate.

While our children in the US have a tremendous amount of government support available (if you know where to ask) for them, there is zero support for the caregiver. I am not talking about financial. I am talking about emotional support. That shoulder that you need to lean on.

Since I have that support I know full well what those of you without it must be feeling. Know that you are not alone but you have to let us know you need it. My friends know because I go to them. I break with Boo’s therapists and vent to her aides. Sure a few will reach out, but the responsibility is mine to say I cannot do it on my own.

So I implore you, the Kelli’s out there, to know you are not alone. But you need to scream and raise the white flag.

And if you know a parent out there with a child who has special needs reach out. Stop by their house tonight with a pizza and a bottle of wine. Stop by and check in on them. Keep inviting them to events, even if they have to say no. Remember that e-mail is great, but you can hide there. Call, speak to them. Make sure they know you are available to listen without judgment.

Let what happened to Kelli be a lesson to all of us to reach out before there is no one there to catch.


My Challenge: Echo

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Today’s My Challenge is from Echo a mom blogger who writes about the joys and tears of home schooling two children, one with autism and one with a diva issue. 

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My biggest challenge and my greatest love…
When Kerri asked me if I would be willing to participate in this series, I was ecstatic. I think that opening up and sharing our struggles and challenges is a great way to help each other grow as parents.
My son. My handsome, smart, charming and stubborn son is on the Autism Spectrum. He has PDD-NOS (formerly diagnosed as Asperger’s Syndrome). He is extremely high functioning, but also has a lot of sensory processing and social interaction issues.
My daughter. My gorgeous, intelligent, dramatic and independent daughter is NT (Neuro-Typical). She has hit all of her milestones and continues to grow and progress.
My biggest challenge is also my greatest love, raising my two children. Raising a child on the spectrum is hard for anyone, add in sibling rivalry and it can be complete chaos. I have to navigate so many issues, that at times, I feel like I am nothing but a referee.
Try dealing with the emotions of an over dramatic 8 year old when he realizes that his 3 year old sister is faster than him. Try dealing with his frustration when his 3 year old sister starts riding her bike and he cannot.
Imagine trying to get your strong-willed 3 year old to stop touching her brother a certain way. Imagine trying to break up a fight between a 3 year old and an 8 year old because the 3 year old took her MegaBlocks back.
Feel the heartache when you watch one child achieve something that the other could not. Feel the confusion because you don’t want to treat them differently, but you have to because of age. Feel the frustration when your 8 year old constantly yells at your 3 year old and your 3 year old constantly pushes your 8 year old’s buttons.
My children are my greatest love and I would not change either of them. However, trying to raise them together, equally is truly my greatest challenge.


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When Echo sent me her post she wondered if it was “right” for the series. After reading it I replied it was freaking awesome. I think all of us with multiple children have the challenge of raising them the same but different. Add in a disability and YIKES it can sometimes (most times) seem overwhelming. 

Thank you, Echo for sharing your challenge today. You can read more about Echo at Mad Mommy where she shares everything from the 100 lb challenge to home schooling. 


What's your challenge is a series that was inspired by a program I created at Abby's school. I am amazed at how honest and hopeful the challenges have been. Thank you to all who have contributed. To submit your challenge, please e-mail me at firebailey@gmail.com


TBT–Out of the Mouths of Babes

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Welcome to Throw Back Thursday, blog style. 



(Originally posted 18-JUL-2012)

Abby is taking some summer help in math at a local school. This morning when I dropped Abby off she was telling me about the kids in her class. Some were from her current class and others she didn’t know. Abby said that there was only one other girl, a bunch of boys and one weird boy.


Weird boy, I asked, do you mean the boy with Down syndrome?

          What’s that? Abby replied.

Well he is special needs, like Boo, I explained
Oh, is that why he has a teacher just for him in the class? (Yup) That makes sense now. I thought there was something different but couldn’t figure it out. Why didn’t they tell me so I could help him?


This conversation floored me on many levels. First, Abby has intuitively known that there is something special about Boo and has accepted her without conditions. I automatically assumed that she would recognize and accept it in another child. Second, Abby attends enough of Boo’s therapy appointments to see other children like this boy. I was completely astounded that she even had to ask, or worse in her mind label this boy as “weird”.


Abby has been a staunch defender of Boo. She would never let one of her friends use that term with her sister, so why did she do it with a boy she just met? Have I failed in some way in to prepare and nurture her to accept all others like she does Boo?


Of course, I asked Abby. Not that specifically, but why she did she not understand that this boy was special. She thought because he was so big and not little like Boo he was just a boy.   I asked (just to make sure) that she hadn’t made fun of this boy. She was quick to say no, but that she wished that the teacher had told her because the other boys in the class did. Abby was so cute, telling me that she would make sure it didn’t happen again! We had a long talk about Boo and how would Abby feel if one of her classmates called Boo “weird”.


But it made me think, is inclusion working? Are the teachers and other parents explaining to their children that not all children can run, read, speak like others. Whose responsibility is it really? Mine, in some way because while I can educate/prepare Abby and she can then teach her peers. But neither Abby, her dad or I can go into Boo’s class and wake up the other children/parents. I can only be responsible for the children who interact with Boo in my presence.


Is it the teacher’s responsibility? Certainty, but how can they do this without embarrassing (not the right word, but hopefully you get my point!) the child in question. Abby thought the teacher should have let the kids know. But by privacy laws, they cannot.
I think the biggest obstacle is that the other parents are not on the playground or in the classroom with their children. So they might not even be aware, like me, that their child may be prejudging some one. Think about it, if you do not have a special child would you think to educate your ‘typical’ child about a child with Downs, CP, and autism or like Boo one who is undiagnosed? I will admit that before Boo I cannot honestly say I would have said something to Abby until she asked/made a comment in my presence.

I think as children get older they may become more aware (and yes, mean). But at Abby’s age it is just a sense of innocence where they don’t really notice differences in others until the difference is glaringly obvious.

Boo is in an integrated preschool with a not so equal ratio of special/typical kiddos. Even there I notice that some parents look at us askew when Boo is not participating like their ‘typical’ kid in the class. Once a child asked their mom what was wrong with Boo and the mother, instead of educating, told the child to ‘hush’.


So I don’t know what the answer is, if integration is worth it or how to educate the world at large that Boo just has a different sense of typical.