Autism Speaks Swims

We need to thank Autism Speaks and Mermaid Aquatics.  The boys took two weeks worth of swimming lessons and the cost was covered by Autism Speaks. It's wonderful to see an organization at work through my sons. 

The boys had basic swimming skills but we haven't moved past those basic skills.  These two weeks of lessons taught Alex strokes and different kicks.  Gabriel renewed his confidence and swam in very deep water without a life vest.  He learned how to use flippers and worked on his technique.  

Their lessons were at the same time, and that made it a lot easier for me. 

On the last day, Gabriel jumped off the diving board.  I was so proud of my ten year old for having the courage to try something new!  The photo shows Gabriel with his instructor but he jumped off the board by himself. 

Are You Gabriel's Mother?

According to Autism Speaks, (http://www.autismspeaks.org/family-services/autism-safety-project/abuse) children with disabilities are twice as likely as neurotypical children to be abused physically or sexually. I read numerous reports about these children. Today, I read about parents in Anahheim, accused of keeping their 11 year old son with autism in a dog crate. (www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=newssearch&cd=1&ved=0CB4QqQIoADAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fktla.com%2F2014%2F07%2F02%2Fparents-arrested-after-11-year-old-autistic-boy-found-living-in-cage-anaheim-police%2F&ei=vrO1U7LIJKqlsQSi4IDwCw&usg=AFQjCNEWo9KVewqPyjPMnsR317tg-Oy7Bw&sig2=EKI4pvmREpsJWpZN8A-KWw)
Gabriel is only a year and a half younger than this child. I am sick to my stomach. How could someone even consider a dog crate as an acceptable means of controlling a child? How can that thought even cross an adult's mind? It is my deepest hope that the child can recovery from such deplorable actions.
A couple weeks before the school year was complete, two officers knocked on my door in the morning. My house was messy and I was tired. I had to answer my door without a bra on and for some reason, this is an awful situation for me.
My mind raced. Did Alex and Andrew make it to school and work okay? Did something awful happen? Are we being arrested for something I was completely unaware of? My heart was beating out of my chest and I even thought about hiding in my bedroom. However, I knew that hiding wouldn't make these officers or the situation go away.
I opened the door. My hand was shaking. I glanced around the entryway and noted an old crib mattress to the side of the door. The day before, I brought it down to throw away and Gabriel had stripped the cloth off it to turn the coils into a fun play thing to jump on. It made everything look trashy. (great)
The conversation went something like this: "do you know Gabriel?" "yes, I'm his mother, why? " "We need to discuss something with you." Gabriel and Lane run to the door, smiling and laughing. They wave sweetly to the officers and say, "hi!"
They had to discuss a report that was filed at the school by an adult. Gabriel made sexual gestures and remarks that were not appropriate for a child his age. If you know Gabriel, he doesn't have a clue about sexual terms or sexuality. He's a very naive boy and I'm fine with that at age 9.
I think I argued with with officers and told them that was disgusting and how dare someone accuse my child of something like that. Trust me, my children are not angels but I also know what my children are capable of doing and sexual activities aren't one of them. The officers explained that they would file the report, investigators would be at my home, and they would follow up to find out who was sexually abusing my child.
There it is... the tip of my emotional ice berg that is shattering. My husband and I spent hours figuring out our rights should we be accused of something horrible. I was sick to my stomach and could barely function thinking about someone hurting my child. The school is the safe zone for children. Did someone think Andrew or I hurt Gabriel? This is his other safe zone. I called the doctor and asked what we should do for him. I confided in a few friends. I cried. (a lot)
Later in the afternoon, the doorbell rang again. "What now?!" I thought. A DCF investigator stood at my door. She spent over three hours interviewing me, looking around at my home, and playing with my children. It was awkward, at best.
It wasn't until she had been here for two hours that she told me that my husband and I were not suspects. No one thought we did anything inappropriate. I could breathe a little bit after those two hours with her.
Sadly, I haven't really considered sexual abuse against my sons. I think about what could happen to our daughter. Statistics show that boys also experience some form of sexual abuse. I would guess I'm not the only person with this misconception.

(from the National Child Traumatic Stress Network)

An investigator with the sheriff's office also interviewed all of us, including Gabriel, a week later. I asked for the extensive notes and behavior reports from the school. I had copies but never saw anything of concern in the paperwork. Nothing existed that indicated any sexual behavior happened at the school.
I am glad that I didn't know who reported the incident at the school, though I have my suspicions. I am also glad that I didn't know who was alleged accused either. I do not know how I would have reacted toward that person.
We finally heard that our case was closed with both the sheriff's office and DCF. They found no wrong doing and didn't charge anyone.
Most likely, we will never know what happened. Was he abused? Was it all a misinterpreted conversation by an untrained staff member? Was he set up to say and do awful things? Was it a lie for retaliation against us, his parents? My gut instinct is that nothing happened. I can't decide if he was set up for retaliation or not. It is disturbing that I am happy if we were set up to leave the school because at least then my child wasn't abused sexually. Either way, it will take a while to gather my shattered pieces of trust. (which wasn't very strong before this incident)

Sometimes, just sometimes...

I know many times people don't know what to say to me about autism, ADHD, behavioral issues, chiari, and other medical issues we battle in our home. I get it. Many times it comes out wrong.
I don't want to hear that I was specially chosen to handle this. You are giving me super powers that some days I don't have and I don't want to live up to that expectation every hour of the day. I know that the person telling me just wants to be encouraging.
"God doesn't give you more than you can handle." I disagree. Otherwise we wouldn't have to suffer with suicide in this world. Sometimes these issues are just too much for me and I feel overwhelmed. I don't want to reach out for help because I'm told, "God hasn't given you more than you can handle."
Many times it's nice to hear and read about the positive stories. The ASD teenager who finds her voice through technology. The ASD adult who graduates from school. The child who is lost to the world but finds their way through therapy. It's incredible and I am so happy for those children and those families.
Sometimes those stories are painful. When I am still in the daily grind with the kids, running to and from doctor's appointments, dealing with intense meltdowns, speaking to school staff about the behavior challenges, making appointments, spending hours at school appointments, and more. It's a lot and I don't feel especially hopeful when we haven't seen positive changes in months. Right now I'm anxious. I spend hours researching autism treatment to make sure I haven't missed something to help my children. I'm desperate and worried about their futures.
It seems extreme but things are intense around here lately.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I want to hear, "I get it" from someone who has survived the trenches and is still battling the nastiness of autism. It is more comforting than hearing the success stories  A teacher talked to me about Gabriel's renewed interest in Thomas the tank engine. She has a teenager with autism and all she said was, "I get it. My daughter was obsessed with dragons. She's now obsessed with owls. We know every breed, every nest size, their life span, their scientific name, etc.."
Then she told me how her daughter had a dragon egg. Late one night, the daughter had a meltdown for hours over the lost dragon egg. She ended up driving to the church to meet the pastor in order to get the dragon egg at midnight. Yep, she "gets it." Because a NT child can find a way to get over it.  An ASD child will scream for hours and doesn't allow anyone else in the home to sleep until that object is found 

People try to relate to me by telling me they understand because their toddler has a temper tantrum.  My nine year olds meltdown is nothing like a toddler temper tantrum. I honestly appreciate the effort to relate to me but somehow it diminishes what I'm experiencing.  This has been going on for years and it's harder as he gets older. The differences in his behavior and that of a typical nine year old are more noticeable. And frankly, it's more painful now because I don't want him to have to experience the world in such a confusing, overwhelming way. As a three year old he looked like any other three year old throwing a temper tantrum.  That isn't the case any more. 
Sometimes, just sometimes, I'm happy to meet someone who can relate to my life. There is no judgement, just "I've been there, I understand." 

Lines, Lines, Everywhere Lines

When the boys were younger, they would line up toys. Everywhere they went there lines of shoes, cars, trains, pens, and more. If the cars and trains were lined up, it didn't seem so bad as a parent.  

Trains are meant to line up.  You piece them together and push them on tracks. It seems logical and follows typical play. Then cars would line up and it wasn't a huge alert because cars line up in traffic jams all the time. 

Until my child continued to line up the little cars. Then it starts to click in this autism parents head.  You realize that the child is only lining the cars up, they aren't parking the cars in a parking lot or racing the cars. The cars are forming long kind all over the house.  At a certain point, you get it.  That's not a typical way to play with a bunch of cars. 

As a parent of two puzzle pieces, when my NT princess lined up all of the kids shoes in the front hallway, I was filled with a moment of fear.  I hear about regressive autism often. The child appeared to develop on track and then stopped abruptly.   Poor Lane had to sit down and have a conversation with me in an effort to calm my fears. It's fascinating how such a small thing like lining items can now elicit fear.  

(The shoes were in perfect lines prior to taking the photo)

Quit Robbing Us

Autism is a thief. It has stolen many things from my chikdren, from our family, and from the two of us, the parents. I'm writing this as a mother and I don't know my husbands view on this part of autism.  However, I firmly believe that autism is a stone cold thief and no one is exempt from its possible scrutiny 

Autism has stolen our finances. We have paid for therapy in the form of behavior, occupational, speech, aquatic, and hippo (horses). We have paid for expensive diet choices. We have paid for therapeutic devices.  We have paid for babysitters when our children with autism can't handle a situation. We have paid thousands of dollars for school advocates. We pay for medication, essential oils, vitamins, and more.

Autism robs us of time. I've spent countless hours researching new therapies, scientific studies, media reports, schools, and blogs. I don't want to miss out on something that might help my sons.  I've spent hours upon hours talking to insurance costumer representatives to understand our benefits and to resubmit incorrect claims. I can't tell you how many specialists, doctors and therapists offices I've been to with my children. I have to call for medication, pick it up, and drop off prescriptions.

Autism robs us of a sleep. I can't remember what a full night of sleep is like any more. Children with autism tend to have sleep issues. One son can't fall asleep before 10:30 pm, no matter what we do with him. The other son does not sleep through the night. Ever. We are constantly woken up by his sweet voice or heavy foot steps.
Autism robs us of lost moments. Restaurants can have strong smells. Events can be too loud. Parks can be too crowded. Waiting periods are too long. All of these things cause meltdowns and we have to leave at a moments notice. We miss out on a lot because autism robs my sons of coping skills.

Autism has robbed us of spontaneity. Children with autism need routine and consistency. We have to plan and have three backup plans in our head at all times. If we don't stick to a routine, we pay a tough price. We have charts and "if/then" boards. We know what PECS is and we use it.

Autism robs us of peace. My normally gentle, sweet souled child has become aggressive and impulsive. He hits, bites, pulls hair, and pinches. He doesn't have the ability to stop himself yet.

Autism robs us of bits of sanity and connections. We constantly question our parenting and scrutinize every facet of our sons lives. As parents, we don't always agree with methods of parenting or therapy. We have to divide and conquer and miss out on family time together because one of the puzzle pieces can't handle a situation. We hear screaming every day because a child is overwhelmed by their environment. Birthday parties are a huge challenge due to the enormous energy of all the children. It is difficult to know if the person inviting us will understand if we have to leave. Will it cause an awkward moment or ruin a friendship? Are we not included because our sons have a disability? I am anxious about having parties and guests because I have to explain what could happen and make sure those guests are able to cope and understand that their behavior has everything to do with a struggling child and not anything else. We have care giver burnout.

Autism robs us of every day conversations. If someone doesn't know my sons in person, I am often asked, "are they verbal?" Somehow if they are verbal, that makes it better I suppose. It doesn't though. I don't know what happens during the boys typical day. I can't have a conversation unless it centers around their interests. We don't know who their friends are at school. We don't know what they are reading at school.

Please autism, give us a break. Quite robbing us of these little bits of normalcy that I am still craving.

I Crave

Alex was officially diagnosed with autism on Thursday. He is 7.5 and we started this  journey when he was about 3.5 years old.  We asked the pediatrician in Sioux City to start testing Alex and got  nowhere, though his preK teachers saw issues and couldn't pinpoint it.

We had numerous evaluations done in K that resulted in nothing in the school system 

 When Alex entered first grade, he had a lot of difficulties and we began independent testing.  The teacher didnt recognize autism and told me several times that if I was more consistent, I would see better behavior. (Do you see my eyebrows raised?).  Never mind that the medication we give Alex wears off around 4 pm, so he's much more challenging around 4.  Yes, you're welcome, teachers. I really do care about you and my child's success. 

I'm going through the same process of acceptance and grief as I did when we received the same diagnosis for Gabriel 4 years and 1 month ago. 

I'm mourning the loss of that healthy child.  The pediatrician declared my son, "the healthiest preemie ever."   I'm not exaggerating, it is what he said after Alex was born.   And he was a healthy premature newborn.  Thank goodness for the "take home preemie". 

Today I'm angry.  I'm angry at everyone in the school system who hasn't seen the autism.  I'm angry that the my child has to struggle with social skills, language development, fine motor skills, sensory processing, and more.  I'm angry at anyone who can't relate to me. 

I'm no longer the mom with one child but two children on the spectrum.  That is my new world. I am not exaggerating when I say - they both have ASD, be kind to me please.  (I am really thinking- for the love of everything, please realize that these are little boys who are struggling.  They aren't little brats).  And when you, the stranger, the friend, the acquaintance, reach out and you take time to understand, please know that I love you. I appreciate you. I know you took time out of your day for me by whatever you did, I just have NO time to tell you.  This might be it.  Those long letters I used to write that thanked you for your kindness are now filled with time dealing with research, medication runs, hospital visits, doctor calls, insurance arguments and more.  Give me time, when the school isn't calling or emailing me 3-5 times a day, I will find time for me and for friendship

I crave normalcy. Or typical interactions.  I crave it.  It is those moments when we are in public that I notice how "not typical" we are in our home.  When we have to leave a ride at Universal, I wish we didnt.   When my child is screaming because I won't count backwards from ten for the fifth time, I want normalcy.  

But this is it.  This is my life. Right now I'm angry because I was told that my healthy child isn't so, he has autism. I will go through the grieving process and embrace these gorgeous little beings.  It will happen soon, just not today, when I'm angry.  

Self-contained Classrooms in Florida

Recently a friend and I had a conversation about educational options for children with autism in Florida. The conversation centered on options in the public school system. She didn't understand why another friend didn't place her child in an autism room.
It has become clear to me that parents who don't deal with a child who has autism, doesn't know about the options available to these students. That's completely understandable because these parents have no reason to dive into these classrooms and what is presented to the public seems perfectly acceptable. Even teachers have spoken highly of these classrooms. I've asked these teachers if they have taken time to visit self-contained rooms and none of them done a tour. 
What I witnessed while visiting these classrooms isn't even a shadow of what parents are told exists. We are told that the students are taken into the classrooms for subjects that they can handle in the general classroom. They interact with their peers throughout the day. The classroom size is small with three teachers, two of them are paraprofessionals, allowing for a lot of small group and one-on-one time. The students receive breaks throughout the day and have a highly individualized education plan that can be followed due to the small class size and informed, educated, and professional teachers. The kids are with other kids just like them.
It sounds pretty great, doesn't it!
Wow! My child will get the best of all worlds! He won't have to worry about being teased for struggling in a subject or for acting odd socially. He won't have the anxiety of a large, busy classroom for the entire day. He will be with his typical peers throughout the day so he will still have a peer model.
If my child needs to go to another school because our community school doesn't have self-contained classrooms, a bus comes right to our door to pick him up. All these special, expensive services are available just for my special needs son with autism.
With excitement and some reservation, Andrew and I have visited these self-contained classrooms. We go because our fight with the teachers and the general education classroom is continuous. It is stressful. I want to throw up every time the school phone number shows on my phone. If that is stressful for us, I can only imagine what our 9 year old son feels like every day. We question our choice of placement weekly and wonder if we are doing him a disservice. Maybe he really can't handle the general classroom and that is something we have to continue to discuss.
Then we go into the rooms. The first school was a 45 minute drive from our home, in our car. I don't know how long it would take on a bus that has multiple stops and drop offs.
There were three teachers, two of them aides and nine children. The children were K-5 grade students, ranging in severity on the autistic spectrum. One aide stood in the corner with an older, larger child who was screaming and flapping. She was keeping him safe and possibly keeping the other students safe. The other aide was keeping another smaller student safe in a second section of the classroom. There were eight students left for the main teacher. Four of these students sat at computers, working on programs unsupervised. Two students sat at a table with the teacher until I was able to speak to her. The eighth student was in therapy.
I asked if this was their typical day and she told me that it was typical. She seemed concerned that she would get another child who would put her over her numbers. I asked when my son would go into the general classroom and she snickered. There was no one available to take him to the general classroom. So while that is the general concept and what is supposed to happen, children do not leave the self-contained autism room. There would be no way to escort the student to their room and back. These twelve people spend the day together, in this small room.
We visited another self-contained classroom after the second school told us that the self-contained rooms are much better on this side of the county. I was hopeful. We were given the opportunity to talk to the teacher and the principal. We also toured the classroom.
The students were grades 1-5 and they all varied on the autistic spectrum. One student was left on a mat and slept all day because his medication made him tired. One student played with Little Ponies on the floor while three students played Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the computers. Two girls sat at desks scribbling but I think they were supposed to write in a journal. The other students sat at a table with the a teacher, working on reading.
It was at this point that I realized that the students worked on a different curriculum than the general classrooms. The teacher explained that the students don't work toward a diploma. These students are on a completely different track but she said that they could also switch over to the diploma track. I asked if she had ever seen it happen and her response was "no, it doesn't really happen."
The students only spend time with their NT (neurotypical) peers in the cafeteria. Then I think about that a little more. The kids who need to learn appropriate social skills from their peers spend time with their peers only in the lunch room, where the kids are loud, the smells are strong, and the room is bustling and confusing. They sit at a separate table together. It doesn't sound like quality time with peers to me.
My son would travel to a school 20 minutes away from our home, away from the children he sees in our small community, and away from the people he is used to interacting with here.
These are the reasons why we continue to fight to keep our son with autism in the general education classroom. We don't know if he will be able to continue there or if he will succeed in this situation. We hope the answer is yes. We know it makes people uncomfortable to have him in a classroom with their children but he deserves a fighting chance and it my job to make sure he is given it.

Two it is...

It has been a long process to find the correct way to help Alex succeed in the world. We have been at a complete loss and I have blogged about it before. My Mommy instinct alerted me when he was 3 1/2 years old. He is now 7 years old, almost 7 1/2.
At age three, he had a difficult time complying. He was becoming a middle child with siblings who needed therapy on either side of him. The doctor told me that he mimicked his brother who is 20 months older and I was consumed with a baby who had many medical needs at the time. I suppose that is somewhat true since his sister quit breathing at a moment's notice and needed my immediate attention. But still, he didn't interact with other kids and he seemed much more challenging than other children his age. I took him to play dates 3-5 days a week and he rarely left my side. I thought I must be overly sensitive to special needs since my other son was recently diagnosed with autism. Alex had good eye contact and had an amazing vocabulary.
Then age four came and Alex attended Pre-K. I adored Gabriel's preschool teacher and she become my friend so it wasn't a question that Alex would attend the same school. His teacher had a classroom with half typical students and half non-typical students. She had a small class with two attentive assistants.
Alex had a very difficult time adjusting to Pre-K. He screamed each of the four mornings that we took him to school. He hit other children, didn't comply with the rules, and had a bad attitude about the entire process of preschool. Alex wasn't potty trained until he was 4 1/2. I blamed myself because like the rest of my life, I was busy with the other two children who were in OT, hippotherapy, aquatic therapy, and speech therapy. However, we managed to potty train him and thankfully he isn't in diapers any more.
His teachers noticed that he had issues with things. It was obvious but no one could figure out what exactly that problem was. I took Alex to the doctor and had a psychologist do an initial screening on him. Her answer to it all was - Alex is mimicking his brother. He is just an active four year old boy who needs a lot of physical activity.
I was left baffled. Surely, I wasn't wrong still, a year later, about my little guy?
On we chugged to 5 years old and we lived in Florida. Alex was placed in K because the programs are different here and rather than a transitional K in Iowa, they tend to retain children in Florida. Well, in any case, he started K and in January of that school year, the teacher sent home a letter stating that Alex didn't know his letters, the letter sounds, how to write his name, shapes, colors, etc... I was stunned. He was working on sight words at home and complicated math problems. I spent mornings in the classroom and many hours in the afternoon to help Alex learn to "show what he knows".
In February of his young five year old life, I asked the school to complete psychoeducational evaluations. I wanted an answer the meltdowns, the aggressive behavior at school, the defiance, and the social awkwardness.
At the end of the school year, around a table with a dozen people present, the school presented their findings. I was hopeful to have an answer. I received nothing. I was told that he had friends based off a checked list the teacher filled out. I should consider holding him back because he was the youngest child and he was struggling but it was only due to his age.
This time I was shocked. How could the school not see these significant issues? People around me reassured me that he was just an active, young boy. One person who is no longer a friend, stated, "what do you do wrong with your kids?" During this time, the liaison officer offered his unsolicited advice: spank him and he will change.

Alex's first grade year was a struggle as well. He made no friends. He didn't finish assignments. He had meltdowns and hated going to school. I asked his teacher if we should consider modifying his assignments or giving him social skills training of some type. She disagreed and Alex worked on his missed assignments during recess. He had no time to play or work on his social skills.
His teacher told me that Alex mimicked his brother and since he was the youngest in the grade, he was just an immature 6 year old. If I would stick to a routine and consequences at home, I would see an improvement. Since the teacher spends her day with him through the work week, maybe it was me. Maybe I was just a crappy parent and he was immature and that would improve with time. She asked me to consider retaining him in first grade despite his passing grades so he could mature. I seriously considered it because this teacher has tons of years of teaching experience and she knows 6-7 year old children.
Near the end of his first grade year, Alex was diagnosed with ADHD and OCD at a children's development center. He started medication and he seemed to improve. By improvement, he was able to comply at school and focus. If you want to know why I can't stand OCD jokes, it's because I parent a child with OCD and it isn't a laughing matter as the parent. It's a challenging disorder to work with, or against, as the case may be. He refuses to do many things because he doesn't think he will do them correctly. Have you ever watched a five year old work on writing his letters correctly? Alex would erase the paper so much, it would get holes because he couldn't form the perfect "D". He could not move on.
I worked on consistent parenting. I worked on consequences. I beat myself up for a lack of parenting skills. A family member suggested that since my sons have problems, it must be my parenting so maybe it was true. It can't hurt to work on parenting skills.
This summer I took the kids to Nemours Children's Hospital for Gabriel's EEG appointment. The neurologist looked at Alex mid-appointment and said, "he's on the spectrum too, right?"
Alex was working on his math workbook. He was performing complicated multiplication in a fourth grade book. He was fully engaged and didn't hear a word. He was 6 and doing multiplication in summer. Does this sound like many kids?
My face lit up. FINALLY! Finally, someone is listening to me without me saying a word. The neurologist handing me a stack of forms for evaluations that I've filled out a couple times before. While Gabriel had an EEG done, I filled out forms. The neurologist looked them over and asked me to make an appointment for Alex so we could start the process of figuring out what is going on with him.
Alex's neurologist appointment was two weeks ago. I'm numb. I can barely talk about it. I'm so torn. I have been fighting for almost four years to figure out how I can help him. I want an answer but at the same time, my heart breaks because I can't stand that anything is wrong with the precious baby boy who was born on August 9th in Miami. I feel my heart thick in my chest like I could rip it out due to the extra heavy weight I carry. I have tears in my eyes and I swallow hard so they don't fall on my face. I don't want my children to see me crying again. They will ask what is wrong and it will take me too long to think of a lie.
Alexander has significant markers for autism. He went to the OT and she confirmed the same thing with her evaluation. We only have one more evaluation to take him to and we will get the final diagnosis.
Today he brought home an evaluation his teacher filled out. His teacher's evaluation puts him on the significant level for autism as well.
I have two children on the spectrum. I am only waiting for the final words in a couple months. I do not know if I can bear to hear the words "autism and Alex" in the same sentence from a professional. It is one thing to know in your heart that your child has a disorder, it's another to hear it from a professional. It makes it final. It makes the reality jump in your face and you can't escape it and its implications. It means I have to mourn a piece of Alex that just won't be.

I'll be okay. He will be okay. He's still my precious Alex. I'll help my child and I hope some day, in the future, we can read this together and laugh. I hope he is able to succeed despite autism and with autism. It is my biggest wish.

AUTISM, I still hate you.

Today has been a day when I didn't think I could handle autism. In fact, today I hate it. I genuinely hate what autism does to my son and his interactions with the world. I hate how much he has to struggle and work on things to function.
I need respite care for him for an hour. Just one hour of me sitting and composing myself without the yelling and screaming he's doing today. An hour away from him blowing snot all over himself and trying to make himself vomit. Just one hour... one hour to decompress without worry. That won't happen. So instead, I will write here and take a few minutes away while he yells in the other room.
I've learned that yelling and scrambled thoughts are his way of dealing with stress. Any time he is anxious or stressed, I can guarantee verbal outbursts. I refer to it as "verbal stimming" though I'm unsure what a "professional" would call it.
Think about the parent who deals with a colicky baby. It becomes nearly impossible to remain calm. It is an incredible challenge to ignore hour after hour of screaming nonsense.
As I type this, he is yelling at me and calling me a clown. That doesn't seem so bad except this has been going on since 7:45 am. It is now 2:30 pm.
So why am I dealing with this "verbal stimming" today? I made the tactical error of taking him to the pediatric ophthalmologist this morning. He was due for his annual appointment. On the way to his appointment, we discussed what would happen and it began his anxiety and intense fear.
I stopped talking to him about his appointment on our hour drive but it didn't calm him. I couldn't win. I thought about cancelling his appointment but 1.I would get charged a late cancellation fee 2. sometimes he is able to change his behavior and calm down for doctors
It didn't happen. I clung to me like an infant in the waiting area. He SCREAMED and YELLED while I talked to the nurse and doctor. He was terrified. When the nurse asked if she could get eye drops in for refraction, I told her that I didn't think it would be possible today. She gave me a strange look and said, "we don't have a problem holding him down." Before I could even think, I responded, "I'm not okay with physical restraint of my child with autism for an elective procedure."
Apparently she didn't like my response and told me that the dr might not see us then. I said, "that's fine, you are not restraining my child and freaking him out for further appointments which we have many every year." She said, "I'll go talk to him but he won't want to even see you." The dr came into the room.
I apologized. For what, I'm not sure but it had been a long hour and a half in the car and then in the waiting room. I think I didn't want someone being rude to my child because I took a stand against physical restraint of my child.
Basically I learned that my Mama Bear has gotten stronger and louder. My patience is being tested beyond all reasonable expectations. I can't make morning dr appointments any more because he can't turn his behavior around for school so I am now listening to him yell all day. Now I'm angry because I spent $50 on a copay to spend the day with a child who I can not console.
Respite care, where the hell are you??!! And AUTISM, I still hate you.

Haircuts are painful sometimes...

letter to SmartStyle today:    

I took my son to the SmartStyle salon in the St. Cloud, FL, location today. He sat down for his haircut and had a meltdown. He is 8 years old and has autism. He was anxious about his haircut and needed a few minutes to calm down. In the process, he grabbed the scissors to give himself a haircut but the scissors were removed from his hands without incident. The stylist was calm and willing to give him time to calm down. He finally sat quietly and said that he was ready for his haircut. It was at the moment that the stylist told me that she was willing to cut his hair but her boss, Virginia Lebron, would not allow her to finish his haircut. I explained that my son has autism and Ms. Labron looked at me and just shrugged while continuing to work on another client's hair. I mentioned that she was refusing service to someone with a disability.
Autism is a neurological disorder. Here is a web site for more information about what our family deals with on a daily basis. http://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism
Professionally, the least Ms. Lebron could have done was speak to me about why she was denying my son service at the salon. As an ethical person, she could have done more than shrug her shoulders.
My son was diagnosed with autism over three years ago and I have not cried so hard in public in a long time. I was embarrassed and hurt for my son who thought that he was naughty. If I thought he wasn't capable of handling the haircut after he calmed down, I would have walked out with him. He cried in the front entrance of the salon and begged for the stylist to cut his hair while his brother finished his haircut with another stylist. He has been disturbed by this incident the rest of the day.
Our family is still recovering from this experience. We are considering what do next. We want you to be aware of this incident so you can correct any policies and/or train employees so this doesn't occur in the future with other children, particularly those with disabilities.

"Color-ism"

This is a tough post for me to write and I've been thinking about it for a couple years. It involves a sensitive topic and causes hurt feelings. I will preface this writing by stating that my husband and I are not racist or bigots in any way. Where these ideas came from, we don't know. I am sharing this to shed more light on the world of autism. The painful side.
My son with autism either fears or loathes people with dark skin. In other words, anyone with black skin really flips him out. It has caused many awkward situations over the last few years.
Our very good friends have five gorgeous children with dark skin and our son, at the age of five, didn't want to play with them. He told us it was because they were black. Unfortunately, everyone could hear his statement. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I was horrified. Where on G-d's green earth did he get this idea?
When I took him to the audiologist to check for auditory processing disorder, I wanted to run out of the office with him when I saw that the audiologist was African American. Instead, I silently prayed to the Autism G-ds that Gabriel would simply follow her directions. She asked him to sit in the room for testing and he freaked out. Stupid Autism G-ds rarely listen me. He screamed and yelled. I am positive he wanted to rip her eyeballs out. He yelled, "Don't touch me. You're BLACK!" The audiologist gave me a dirty look and I felt my face growing hot and red. I explained that I don't know where Gabriel gets his ideas and shrugged my shoulders. I could barely be heard over his loud screaming.
She explained that G-d made her with black skin and Gabriel was made with white skin but underneath we are all the same. Gabriel touched both of their arms and seemed content with that explanation. For a minute. Then he screamed again, "You're BLACK. Do NOT touch me." In my mind, I thought, "Gabriel why can't you understand that you aren't going to burst into flames if she tests you. Please learn some social appropriateness. Now. Right this moment." The audiologist wasn't comfortable with me putting the equipment on him and after half an hour of working with Gabriel (listening to him scream about her black skin), she asked us to leave and reschedule. It's been almost a year and I haven't bothered to reschedule.
Last summer, while on an elevator, he pointed at an African American couple and made comments about how they weren't allowed on the elevator with us. Elevators are small. They could hear every comment and forced a smile on their face. I apologized many times and they told me that it was okay. To which I told them that I didn't think his comments were okay on any level and I would take care of the situation. That was the slowest elevator ride of the my life.
When we found out that the gym teacher at the school is African American, we had to explain Gabriel's aversion. I felt like a real ass when I told the room full of teachers and staff that Gabriel doesn't like black skin. The coach at the school is awesome so it is my hope that he will get over this issue. However, somehow, Gabriel avoided many gym classes throughout the school year. I don't know if it was due to the skin color problem or due to gym class.
My dad, in his wisdom, suggested I refer to this as "color-ism." Gabriel is very sensitive to color. His issue with black is the color, it isn't some deep seeded issue dating back to slavery. It isn't from an awful joke or idea he heard in our home. He doesn't think that the other person is any less than he is, he just doesn't like the color. What this all comes down to is autism. He obsesses about things and in this case, color.
I have a red living room set not because it was my choice but because Gabriel loves the color red. He can get stuck on colors when we least expect it. He would only wear red shirts for a long time. I didn't know how I was going to get him into a uniform shirt his first year. Blue or white were not shirts he would wear. The only way he wore it was if I wore the same color every morning with him. I have to get creative in order for things to get accomplished around here.
It turns out, Gabriel doesn't like black in general. I've asked if likes black cars. No. Does he like my black bathing suit? No. He was angry when I bought a black garbage can and a black dining room table. A girl can only handle so much red in her home. He is now 8 years old and has become more accepting of the color black and I can only hope it gets better. I am hopeful.

Is he going to CoOk Me???!!

Gabriel used to run from everything. Something would trigger him to run and there was no way to stop him. Gabriel was a fast five year old who would dash without any warning. We had two other children, a baby and a 3 year old making it even more challenging to know when he would take off.
Once he could open doors, we had locks at the top of every door. Anyone who entered our home was warned about the necessity of the locks at the top of door. Every exit had extra locks in order to keep Gabriel safe in our home.
We were able to add a tracking device to his ankle when he was in kindergarden. Somehow he was able to get outside of the school twice, one time it was winter and freezing. He didn't have a jacket on and he was found the playground. Once he ran away from me at my parent's house. He ran full force toward my parent's horses and grabbed their electric fence. I am grateful that my parents had it set on a low setting. I still called Gabriel's cardiologit to make sure that his little zap wouldn't make his heart condition worse.
The plastic anklet was free through a grant given to the Sioux City police department. I checked the battery every evening and a police officer went to the school to change the battery once a month. If Gabriel was missing more than five minutes, all the adults in Gabriel's life knew to call 911 if he was missing more than five minutes. Once the police departmen was alerted, they guaranteed that he would be found in 30 minutes or less. They used volunteers who were trained in search and rescue as well as a helicopter.
When we went on trips to Omaha or Sioux Falls, out of state, I had a lump in my throat. The program wasn't necessarily available in those locations and the risk of losing him seemed even higher.
We had locks on all of the doors in Celebration last year but Gabriel has outgrown his need for running. He no longer leaves the premises without letting us know. We can even allow him the freedom to walk outside without hovering over him. Gabriel takes the trash to the unattached garage and comes back in the house without a problem. This really is an incredible development for him. I keep an eye on him and remind him about busy roads but I no longer feel like I'm going to puke every time we are near those busy streets. I am comfortable about him being at the school and no longer fear any escape route.
A year ago, I visited many private and public schools. At each school, I surveyed the escape route risk factor. Where were the fences? Were they on busy road? Was the school a closed in building or one with classroom doors facing the outside?
While I am ecstatic that things have changed in regards to Gabriel's running, he now has new fears. Strangers make him fearful. His reaction to strangers is extreme.

At the library one day, Gabriel was nervous about the older librarian I was talking to. He started asking if she was going to cook him. I told him no she wouldn't but it wasn't enough. He shoved his head in the back of my shirt, rearranging my clothing completely. She asked how old Gabriel is and seemed surprised that he is 8 years old.
It seems to be happening in any situation where he is nervous. Gabriel makes a little screeching sound and then yells, "Is he/she going to COOK ME?!!" I think this idea came from Hansel and Gretel but I'm not entirely positive. It's an odd thing to yell in public, no matter where the idea originated.
I explain that Gabriel is nervous and introduce the person to Gabriel and he seems to be better at that point. So far it has been working but this new anxiety has created some awkard moments.

A little maturity...

A little maturity goes a long way, in our home any way. A teacher Gabriel only sees on occassion commented on Gabriel's new maturity. I've noticed it too. Lately he is more compliant, more confident, and more responsible. He even talks about the importance of being responsible for things.
I took this photo of Gabriel last week while he worked on his homework. For the last couple years, we have had to argue with him, bribe him, beg him to work on his homework. Lately he will sit down and start working without a peep.
I know this will change at a moment's notice but right now, I'm enjoying my little second grader and his new found maturity. I have been thrilled with his new ability to help his siblings and even walk away from confrontation with them. I have to give credit to his teacher and our ESE team who work hard with us. Without them, I believe this level of maturity would not have happened.
He was a hot mess up until a couple weeks ago and I am grateful to have a team of adults who care about not only his academic progress but his social, emotional, and maturity progress as well. I think this version of Gabriel will last until we have to transition back to school in January after the holiday break. I'm not looking forward to that transition but maybe it won't be as bad as I envision.

Autism, Right?

Gabriel and I were in Target last week. He was having a particularly "off" day. He didn't seem to be apart of this world, zoning, and unable to focus on anything. He couldn't hold any type of conversation with me. Not that we have real conversations yet but we couldn't get past one sentence on this day.
He has little awareness of personal space and it seemed especially bad as we maneuvered through the store. Gabriel bumped into me constantly. I'm used to it. I constantly have my body smushed by him or my toes stepped on, literally. His weight is supported by my vertical presence daily. I think he would have crawled back into the womb. It was that bad.
For the most part, I hear, "I would have never guessed he has autism." when I explain his behavior to other people. I don't tell people to get a pass for his behavior but to teach and advocate for special needs children. Maybe, just maybe, it will stop the evil stares and promote acceptance and tolerance.
Recently I stumbled on a site where adults bashed children with autism and their parents. It was heartbreakting to read that we, the parents of special needs parents, should leave our "retarded" children at home. We should learn how to parent and use discipline in our children's lives. This site pointed out how intolerant some adults are in this world. This fact scares the crap out of me as my son with autism ages.
In any case, the cashier looked at me and said, "Autism, right?" My heart sank. My mouth went dry and I nodded. I couldn't speak but looked at her with my pleading eyes. Please don't make me talk about this today. A day when I'm trying to keep it together.
Yes, autism. Yes, that demon in the room that follows us everywhere and we don't know when it will stike again. She continued to talk about her friend and how her child has autism, as if Gabriel wasn't standing there. It was another moment when I was glad we have told Gabriel that he will have to learn how to cope with autism through this lifetime.
What if I hadn't told Gabriel that he has autism? What then? Would I have lied and looked at her like she had two heads? Would I have wanted the ground to swallow me whole?
My stomach stopped doing flips when we got to the van. Why did this comment from an innocent person throw me so much? I've wondered for three years why people say that he doesn't look like he has autism. What is that look exactly? Why can't other people SEE it? SEE THE DEMON in our home I want to yell from the rooftops and now, well, now it happened and it was a sock in the gut.
Yes, he has autism. Some days are still worse than other days. Some days I want to curl up in my bed and sob for the child I thought we were going to have, for the child I want him to be... but I can't. I have to move on through our day. I'm the mother of three children and life doesn't allow for wimps. In these moments, I realize I love my child and I love his quirkiness and I am the one who has the problem with his disability. He doesn't care. He doesn't know the difference.
I don't know what to tell people when it comes to this topic. Tell me that you see autism, tell me that you don't. Either way, you'll probaby throw me for a loop. In either case, you will delight me that you care enough to talk about it. I'll be grateful that you aren't one of the adults writing that my child needs discipline. I'll also thank you for talking to me about it.

A child with a Neurological Disorder

Lately I've been battling with how difficult it can be to "spot" children with autism. They look like everyone else. They don't have features that distinquish them from other children. Here lies a big problem with people who are unfamiliar with autism and its characterstics, because they assume you have a neurotypical child until they act non-typical. Then I get the "oh, your child is a brat" look. People tend to think that if the ASD child was parented differently that the child would act differently or if the parent didn't use autism as an "excuse" for behavior that the child would be different.

This simply isn't true. Autism is a neurological disorder. My son has delays in communication and social interaction. His behavior is repetitive and his interests are narrow. We don't know what the future will hold for him. It is a big unknown but we think he has a lot of potential. Otherwise I wouldn't have fought to keep him in the least restrictive environment at school. I wouldn't have learned about advocacy or the rights of my child. I wouldn't have a stack of autism books and magazines on my nightstand.

Recently a friend asked what book I read last. I had to think about it. I've only read advocacy and autism books over the last year. My entire world is surrounded with how to better his life and that of our family. My son has hypotonia, PDD-NOS, severe SPD, PICA, and a bicuspid aortic valve on top of all those other lettered labels. He also has several diagnoses involving his eyes. The kid has several hurdles to overcome. We have taken him to hippotherapy, aquatic therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, numerous evaluations and assessments. He attends social skills training daily along with weekly occupational and speech therapy. He is on a gluten free and mostly casein free diet. He can't eat lunch at school because the cafeteria is too noisy and busy. It is impossible for him to concentrate on eating while he is overwhelmed by the stimuli. I can't imagine going through a stressful day at school without eating every day and still keeping myself together. He doesn't write well due to his hypontonia. He was also bullied last year and lost a great deal of confidence. I can not disipline or parent him like a NT child. Well, I could but it wouldn't work. To someone outside the ASD world, this might sound foreign. Delaying discipline is confusing. Typical punishment doesn't work for him. Sometimes I am able to withhold an item but even that doesn't have an effect because it's too long term for him. It doesn't have the same effect that it would for a NT child. Positive reinforcement works well but that is not always an easy way to parent because autism is draining. It drains our finances, our energy, and maybe even our sanity. The punishment for something has to fit the "crime." If he purposefully writes on a desk at school, he needs to clean it off. If he hits a sibling, he can no longer play with that sibling. If he breaks something, he has to fix it or find a way to earn money for a new one.

It's a different world for the child with autism as well as for the parent. My hope is that with more parents speaking out, more people will understand the 1:88 children out there who are diagnosed with ASD.

The umbrella of autism

I sit here paralyzed today. Maybe that is too extreme and melodramatic but I lack energy. I either sit here watching cartoons with Lane or I get up and eat. I realized it's because I've been filling out Aspergers questionaires for Alexander. I can't explain why this is draining the energy from me. It's only three pamphlets to fill out. I've done this many times - first for Gabriel when he was diagnosed with PDD-NOS and then when Alex was evaluated by the school this past spring. (what a nightmare) It shouldn't be a big deal, emotionally or physically. I certainly shouldn't feel the need to fill myself with junk food either.I've even explained Alex's behavior to strangers by stating he is on the spectrum. It isn't true. I haven't gotten a label and I don't know if we will get one. As I counted the number of 1's I circled rather than 0's on the Aspbergers Syndrome Diagnostic Scale, I realized that this might be our reality. Sometimes I try to convince myself that Alex is immature or simply a challenge but deep down I know there is something that is inhibiting him from putting his best foot forward. I think this gnawing feeling is that as we get closer to a diagnosis, I can no longer look the other way and put a different reason on his behavior other than Aspbergers (or whatever other label we get). I get the same gut wrenching, nervous twitching feeling that I had when Gabriel was diagnosed when I think about it. We will know more by the end of September. Whether Alex has auditory processing disorder, ASD, ADD, we will deal with it and we will find ways to help him. It's not the worst news but for some reason it will take me time to digest it. I will have to absorb that the "most healthy premature newborn," as the hospital staff called him, isn't so healthy after all. If he is on the spectrum, it will take me a while to comprehend that I have two children with autism.

IEP amendment goes right!

Andrew and I went to the new school to amend the IEP written in May. Although my conversations have gone well with the school staff and I have been shocked by their responses (in a good way), I was still nervous. None of our meetings went well last year so I was on edge.

We were escorted into a small room with the compliance specialist, the ESE teacher, the assitant principal, and the teacher. "Okay, 4 against 2, I can handle this," I reminded myself. I had my huge red binder with all of Gabriel IEP information, medical information, and more. I made a list of parental concerns. I even had a cute folder with Gabriel's work from this summer. It turns out, I didn't need any of it. They amended his IEP to include time in a sensory room and to have social skills taught in the classroom. The meeting was light and casual. At the end of the meeting, they asked if I had any questions or concerns. I glanced at my list of concerns and didn't feel the need to bring any of them up. Woah! This is new - after combative IEP meetings last year, I could not think of one thing that I wanted to discuss. I asked if Gabriel would need to wear a belt to which they responded, "a belt is a nonissue here." Huh? After 40 minutes of arguing at his last school, a belt is a nonissue?! AWESOME! They could not believe that Gabriel was forced to wear a belt last year and we were told that it's a necessary life skill. I'm still shellshocked - we are working with people who love their jobs and understand special needs. We did not hear once that "Gabriel should be in the autism room." In fact, his teacher told us that she welcome Gabriel and her specialty is reading. She likes to see the transformation in boys in the second grade year and looks forward to helping Gabriel reach his potential this year. We were given a tour of the school that included the boys classrooms and the Smile Lab, the sensory room. I asked how they were able to get the Smile Lab at the school because none of the other public schools I've been to have one. They were suprised and said that all of the schools were given training and the necessary equipment to have a Smile Lab. I'm not surprised after what I've experienced this past year. For a system that believes that inclusion, rather than segregation, is the best way for special needs kids, the majority of the stories are quite the contrary. I experienced it and I know many other people who have as well. I think these wonderful teachers and staff would be even more surprised if I told them everything I heard and experienced last year.

Surfers for Autism Ponce Inlet

We attended our first Surfers for Autism event. The event was held at Ponce Inlet which is down the street from where Andrew and I lived when we first moved to Florida. We really like this location and it holds so many memories for us.

This is their mission statement from their site: The Surfers For Autism mission is to unlock the potential of people with developmental delays, support advocacy for autism issues and scientific research. Our focus is to eliminate stigma through public awareness and education and to unite communities through volunteerism. I wasn't sure if we would be able to attend when I signed the boys up but given that it's a popular event that fills up quickly, I signed up. Thankfully we moved the week before the event and it was the perfect excuse to avoid organizing our new home. The organization asks that the particpants have an IEP to qualify as a participant. Gabriel clearly qualifies. I emailed the coordinator about Alex, explaining our situation and the battle we had with the school. I told her that I didn't want to take a place of another child who has an IEP and understood if he didn't qualify as a participant. She welcomed him with open arms. I am grateful since we still don't have a diagnosis or explanation for his behavior. We had to get early on a Saturday in order to make it to the beach on time. We are now two hours from Ponce Inlet. I had no idea we are so far away now! Unfortunately, we completely forgot to pack toys for the kids! A friend attended and shared her beach toys with the kids - whew! I now have a printed list for the beach to see if it helps us remember everything for a day at the beach. Gabriel was not happy that we drove the van on the beach and had to walk to the event. He threw a fit for a while. The nice part about being with other families with kid with autism, is NO ONE turns to look at your screaming 7 year old. It is the best thing about these events. Gabriel could work through his meltdown and I had no embarrassment about the situation. At one point, I walked to the bathroom with Gabriel. It was quite a challenge, even with the help of a volunteer. She talked to Gabriel about turtles and bugs as we walked. He continued to throw himself on the ground. I learned how to spot turtle tracks in the sand! But I was worried the entire day was a bust if his poor attitude didn't change. The event was fantastic. First, we signed in and 200 participants were divided into four groups. The registration process was painless and well organized. Each group of kids spent just over half an hour in the water with volunteers who taught them how to surf. While we waited in line for the boys turns, Gabriel wrote math equations in the sand. It was his idea and the first time he's ever done something like that - wow!! Gabriel was excited to join his surfer in the water. He did well until he fell in the water and then he wasn't thrilled to surf any more. The volunteer picked Gabriel up after a brief break and took him back out to the water. It was perfect for Gabriel and he managed to complete 6 runs on the board!

Alex was far more anxious about getting on a surf board. Even though this is Alex's pattern when he tries new things, I was a little surprised by his reaction. He loves the beach and his boogie board. I didn't think he would even make it out to the water. However, he not only made it out on the board, he did a GREAT job too.

Lane loves the beach as well and had a blast playing the sand and surf. She is a real beach "baby". She had no interest in surfing so it worked out well.

The event has information booths and includes lunch. All of it is free for families! I walked around with Alex because he wanted a ball a company was handing out to children. We stopped at a booth and Alex charmed the guy there and Alex was given a shark tooth. Alex placed it in his pocket for safe keeping. It was a HOT day and after getting up early, we were done before the second round of surfing events started. It was well worth the two hour drive and we look forward to another Surfers with Autism event in the future.

Week 5 summer education

We are almost to the halfway point of summer break. In some ways the last month had gone fast. I can hardly remember dragging the boys to school in the morning. Yet some days are challenging and seem to drag on far longer than 24 hours.
Gabriel started the week like a two year old. Curious about things that aren't his like my mascara which ended up in his hair, making it an interesting morning. Some days autism is very annoying.
Eventually I got everyone settled in the playroom for some learning time. Gabriel worked on the alphabet puzzle with Lane. This was a neat moment because Gabriel doesn't care for puzzles and he doesn't always take time to show his younger siblings things that he knows how to do.
I found cookie sheet activities for the kids. Lane matched upper case letters with magnets while the boys created words. I like this activity a lot. It is far more interesting for them to play with magnets than sit and write. I didn't have to motivate them to work at all. The link to the cookie cutter sheet activities is here: http://blog.maketaketeach.com/?p=508

A beach mini break

We haven't taken a weekend away to simply hang out at the beach. We usually go to museums, zoos, or events when go on any type of vacation. Until this weekend, that is. The kids "uncle" Nik flew from Denver to Ft. Lauderdale for a conference and we were able to meet him there. We stayed in a hotel with beach access and three pools. It had a one bedroom suite with a jetted tub and a kitchen. The kids spent half the day at the beach and half in the pool. One of the pools had a tiki bar, perfect for celebration Cinco de Mayo!

Our room faced the river. It was a great view of many yachts and large boats in the water. The immediate area had gorgeous mansions overlooking the river or the ocean. Gabriel was fascinted by the dead creatures he found. He was positive that if he threw the puffer fish and cucumber back in the ocean, they would come back to life. I was thankful he thought of that because I was concerned we would come home with rotting fish. We had a few "autistic" moments as we call them. The kids had free snowcones in the afternoon. Later, Gabriel wanted another one and ran back to the hotel lobby. He screamed, "I want a snowcone." When no one paid attention to him and he didn't believe me, he yelled even louder. It was amusing to watch a front desk employee scramble for words. She then said, "I can't make a snowcone. But, here, have a maraca and Happy Cinco de Mayo." We still have the maraca. The boys jumped in the jetted tub in the bedroom. They were laughing and having a good time. We noticed all too late that they were laughing because the water was FLOWING onto the floor. It took quite a while and many towels to soak up the majority of the water. Thankfully we had a washer and dryer in our unit to dry the towels and reapply to the watery mess. Alexander swam the length of the pool several times. He was very proud of himself. Gabriel made friends with two girls and they played for a long time.

Lately, Lane and Gabriel have not been getting along. They annoy each other. I'm not worried that it's a long term issue. I think it happens to anyone you live with and siblings are no exception to that rule. After their fun day at the beach, it was really nice to see the two of them enjoy a movie together. All in all, it was a great weekend away for us. We need to have another simple weekend like this again.