I just wanted to give a shout out to my team "The Phantastic Phethean's". We are walking for Autism Speaks at Angel Stadium in November. I am so excited to be a part of something that brings awareness and raises money for research for this issue. With 2 kids who are ASD, I think that its improtant for me and my family to do our part! So, if you would like to do your part please check us out! I have signed up my whole family including the baby to "walk" for this event. I am so excited. My SIL Jen, is the one who told me about it, and she is the one that set up our team. She is walking with her kids as well.
You can go to www.autismspeaks.org and click on walk events and then search for our team! Help us help these kids to achieve a better life!
Punk Rock Girl
Monday, September 29, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Just one of those days or weeks, or years...
I am now loving that song by Miley Cyrus (sp?); Just one of those days. Again, not sure if that is the Actual title, but it works for my purposes. I like this song because the lyrics are : everyone has those days, everyone makes mistakes." Sometimes I feel like my whole life is either a HUGE mistake, or just one of those days. That is how this past week has been, I got some new meds and this was the 1st week on them. Not sure if I like them yet. They kinda make me feel like I'm on speed one minuet and pot the next. Not that I really know what either of those drugs make you feel, but based on my expansive Hollywood knowledge of them that's how they make me feel. I have decided that my new mantra is "I'm NOT going to freak out! Just cause everyone thinks I am, doesn't mean I am" Courtesy of Sam's fave movie "Half Baked".
Well, I am trying really hard to relax a bit, you know be more "mellow", in tune with my inner harmony and such. I know I am making like no sense, but to me it makes perfect sense in my head. Not that is saying much. But here it is, me trying my best, and alot of the times failing miserably, but still trying none the less. Yeah Me!!
Well, I am trying really hard to relax a bit, you know be more "mellow", in tune with my inner harmony and such. I know I am making like no sense, but to me it makes perfect sense in my head. Not that is saying much. But here it is, me trying my best, and alot of the times failing miserably, but still trying none the less. Yeah Me!!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Just what I needed
I just discovered the blog of a fellow BBC patron, and well it was just what I needed in my life right now. Things have been really hard, and crazy in my life. I know, everytime that I say that people look at me and say, "well yeah! you have 5 kids!". But to be brutally honest, it has nothing to do with hte number of children that I have. In fact, I wonder how I have managed to live my life the way that I have.
First of all, let me say how blessed I am. I have a wonderful family. I have the best husband anyone could ever ask for. And I am blessed with 5 beautiful and wonderful children. How I was so blessed, I shall never understand. Because I feel very unworthy of the blessings that have been bestowed upon me.
I guess the hardest thing for me to admit is that I have a problem, I have PPD. It's more than just the stress of 5 kids, 2 special needs, and all the rest. It's more than just the "baby blues". It is a life halting, sleep deprived, "whack job" existence. How my kids have survived this long is beyond me. I always fear that one day I am going to wake up, and it will all be gone. That my dear spouse is going to look at me and realize I am a lost cause and take the kids and run. That my kids are going to grow up and hate me, resent me for not being a better mom. Irrational thoughts I know, but these are mine daily.
I live my life in a constant state of "High Alert", I think that it's always Defcon 5 in my house. I want so desperetly to be "normal" to feel like I should, but I am afraid that I don't know what that is anymore. I fear that I am pushing away those who are dearest to me, that I will end up alone and old. That no one will love me, that I am undeserving of love from those who do right now.
The overwhelming feelings, the lack of desire to do the simplest tasks, the lack of sleep nad the desperete seeking for the sleep. I feel like I am a ball of nerves all the time. And at the same time, I feel like a loser for feeling this way. Like I some how have to justify me feeling crappy all the time. I should be sleeping, the baby sleeps. I should be happy, I ahve a great husband and 5 great kids. Why am I not? Well, I don't know why not; I just know that I'm not.
I'm not okay, I'm not happy. But some day I would really like to be!
Check out: www.medicatednomore.blogspot.com
It's brought me some great relief, and I look forward to the next "epsiode"
First of all, let me say how blessed I am. I have a wonderful family. I have the best husband anyone could ever ask for. And I am blessed with 5 beautiful and wonderful children. How I was so blessed, I shall never understand. Because I feel very unworthy of the blessings that have been bestowed upon me.
I guess the hardest thing for me to admit is that I have a problem, I have PPD. It's more than just the stress of 5 kids, 2 special needs, and all the rest. It's more than just the "baby blues". It is a life halting, sleep deprived, "whack job" existence. How my kids have survived this long is beyond me. I always fear that one day I am going to wake up, and it will all be gone. That my dear spouse is going to look at me and realize I am a lost cause and take the kids and run. That my kids are going to grow up and hate me, resent me for not being a better mom. Irrational thoughts I know, but these are mine daily.
I live my life in a constant state of "High Alert", I think that it's always Defcon 5 in my house. I want so desperetly to be "normal" to feel like I should, but I am afraid that I don't know what that is anymore. I fear that I am pushing away those who are dearest to me, that I will end up alone and old. That no one will love me, that I am undeserving of love from those who do right now.
The overwhelming feelings, the lack of desire to do the simplest tasks, the lack of sleep nad the desperete seeking for the sleep. I feel like I am a ball of nerves all the time. And at the same time, I feel like a loser for feeling this way. Like I some how have to justify me feeling crappy all the time. I should be sleeping, the baby sleeps. I should be happy, I ahve a great husband and 5 great kids. Why am I not? Well, I don't know why not; I just know that I'm not.
I'm not okay, I'm not happy. But some day I would really like to be!
Check out: www.medicatednomore.blogspot.com
It's brought me some great relief, and I look forward to the next "epsiode"
Sunday, September 14, 2008
My Trip To Beirut
Okay, so our days have not been so great this past week. And I think that while I Loved the Holland Poem, this is really a more accurate view at my life.
Welcome to Beirut
Written by: Susan F. Rzucidlo
WELCOME TO BEIRUT
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with autism-to try and help people who have not shared in that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this.."
There you are, happy in your life, one or two little ones at your feet. Life is complete and good. One of the children is a little different than the other but of course, he's like your in-laws, and you did marry into the family. It can't be all that bad. One day someone comes up from behind you and throws a black bag over your head. They start kicking you in the stomach and trying to tear your heart out. You are terrified, kicking and screaming you struggle to get away but there are too many of them, they overpower you and stuff you into a trunk of a car. Bruised and dazed, you don't know where you are. What's going to happen to you? Will you live through this? This is the day you get the diagnosis. "YOUR CHILD HAS AUTISM"!
There you are in Beirut, dropped in the middle of a war. You don't know the language and you don't know what is going on. Bombs are dropping "Life long diagnosis" and "Neurologically impaired".
Bullets whiz by "refrigerator mother", " A good smack is all HE needs to straighten up". Your adrenaline races as the clock ticks away your child's chances for "recovery". You sure as heck didn't sign up for this and want out NOW! God has over estimated your abilities.
Unfortunately, there is no one to send your resignation to. You've done everything right in your life, well you tried, well, you weren't caught too often. Hey! you've never even heard of Autism before. You look around and everything looks the same, but different. Your family is the same, your child is the same, but now he has a label and you have a case worker assigned to your family.
She'll call you soon. You feel like a lab rat dropped into a maze. Just as you start to get the first one figured out (early intervention) they drop you into a larger more complex one (school).
Never to be out done, there is always the medical intervention maze. That one is almost never completed. There is always some new "miracle" drug out there. It helps some kids, will it help yours? You will find some if the greatest folks in the world are doing the same maze you are, maybe on another level but a special-ed maze just the same. Tapping into those folks is a great life line to help you get through the day. This really sucks but hey, there are still good times to be had.
WARNING! You do develop and odd sense of humor.
Every so often you get hit by a bullet or bomb not enough to kill you, only enough to leave a gaping wound.
Your child regresses for no apparent reason, and it feels like a kick in the stomach.
Some bully makes fun of your kid and your heart aches.
You're excluded from activities and functions because of your child and you cry.
Your other children are embarrassed to be around your disabled child and you sigh.
You're insurance company refuses to provide therapies for "chronic, life long conditions" and your blood pressure goes up.
Your arm aches from holding onto the phone with yet another bureaucrat or doctor or therapist who holds the power to improve or destroy the quality of your child's life with the stroke of a pen.
You're exhausted because your child doesn't sleep.
And yet, hope springs eternal.
Yes there is hope. There ARE new medications. There IS research going on. There are interventions that help. Thank God for all those who fought so hard before you came along. Your child will make progress.
When he speaks for the first time, maybe not until he is 8 yrs old, your heart will soar. You will know that you have experienced a miracle and you will rejoice. The smallest improvement will look like a huge leap to you. You will marvel at typical development and realize how amazing it is. You will know sorrow like few others and yet you will know joy above joy. You will meet dirty faced angels on playgrounds who are kind to your child without being told to be. There will be a few nurses and doctors who treat your child with respect and who will show you concern and love like few others. Knowing eyes will meet yours in restaurants and malls, they'll understand, they are living through similar times. For those people you will be forever grateful.
Don't get me wrong. This is war and its awful. There are no discharges and when you are gone someone else will have to fight in your place. But, there are lulls in wars, times when the bullets aren't flying and bombs aren't dropping. Flowers are seen and picked. Life long friendships are forged. You share and odd kinship with people from all walks of life. Good times are had, and because we know how bad the bad times are, the good times are even better. Life is good but your life is never normal again, but hey, what fun is normal.
Welcome to Beirut
Written by: Susan F. Rzucidlo
WELCOME TO BEIRUT
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with autism-to try and help people who have not shared in that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this.."
There you are, happy in your life, one or two little ones at your feet. Life is complete and good. One of the children is a little different than the other but of course, he's like your in-laws, and you did marry into the family. It can't be all that bad. One day someone comes up from behind you and throws a black bag over your head. They start kicking you in the stomach and trying to tear your heart out. You are terrified, kicking and screaming you struggle to get away but there are too many of them, they overpower you and stuff you into a trunk of a car. Bruised and dazed, you don't know where you are. What's going to happen to you? Will you live through this? This is the day you get the diagnosis. "YOUR CHILD HAS AUTISM"!
There you are in Beirut, dropped in the middle of a war. You don't know the language and you don't know what is going on. Bombs are dropping "Life long diagnosis" and "Neurologically impaired".
Bullets whiz by "refrigerator mother", " A good smack is all HE needs to straighten up". Your adrenaline races as the clock ticks away your child's chances for "recovery". You sure as heck didn't sign up for this and want out NOW! God has over estimated your abilities.
Unfortunately, there is no one to send your resignation to. You've done everything right in your life, well you tried, well, you weren't caught too often. Hey! you've never even heard of Autism before. You look around and everything looks the same, but different. Your family is the same, your child is the same, but now he has a label and you have a case worker assigned to your family.
She'll call you soon. You feel like a lab rat dropped into a maze. Just as you start to get the first one figured out (early intervention) they drop you into a larger more complex one (school).
Never to be out done, there is always the medical intervention maze. That one is almost never completed. There is always some new "miracle" drug out there. It helps some kids, will it help yours? You will find some if the greatest folks in the world are doing the same maze you are, maybe on another level but a special-ed maze just the same. Tapping into those folks is a great life line to help you get through the day. This really sucks but hey, there are still good times to be had.
WARNING! You do develop and odd sense of humor.
Every so often you get hit by a bullet or bomb not enough to kill you, only enough to leave a gaping wound.
Your child regresses for no apparent reason, and it feels like a kick in the stomach.
Some bully makes fun of your kid and your heart aches.
You're excluded from activities and functions because of your child and you cry.
Your other children are embarrassed to be around your disabled child and you sigh.
You're insurance company refuses to provide therapies for "chronic, life long conditions" and your blood pressure goes up.
Your arm aches from holding onto the phone with yet another bureaucrat or doctor or therapist who holds the power to improve or destroy the quality of your child's life with the stroke of a pen.
You're exhausted because your child doesn't sleep.
And yet, hope springs eternal.
Yes there is hope. There ARE new medications. There IS research going on. There are interventions that help. Thank God for all those who fought so hard before you came along. Your child will make progress.
When he speaks for the first time, maybe not until he is 8 yrs old, your heart will soar. You will know that you have experienced a miracle and you will rejoice. The smallest improvement will look like a huge leap to you. You will marvel at typical development and realize how amazing it is. You will know sorrow like few others and yet you will know joy above joy. You will meet dirty faced angels on playgrounds who are kind to your child without being told to be. There will be a few nurses and doctors who treat your child with respect and who will show you concern and love like few others. Knowing eyes will meet yours in restaurants and malls, they'll understand, they are living through similar times. For those people you will be forever grateful.
Don't get me wrong. This is war and its awful. There are no discharges and when you are gone someone else will have to fight in your place. But, there are lulls in wars, times when the bullets aren't flying and bombs aren't dropping. Flowers are seen and picked. Life long friendships are forged. You share and odd kinship with people from all walks of life. Good times are had, and because we know how bad the bad times are, the good times are even better. Life is good but your life is never normal again, but hey, what fun is normal.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Too Much Time
I'm starting to think my wife is too busy eating bon bons at home with her feet up on the desk while blogging. The other day when I came home, she even had her blogging outfit on. When I inquired as to what was going on, all I got was blog this and blog that. To all of you readers of this blog, I hope you have a very BLOG day.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
My Little Ones
I am the mom of 5 wonderful kids, the first two are wonderfully "normal". Then came numbers 3 &4....They are my "special" ones. They have autism. With my son (#3) we didn't find out until he was about 3.5yrs old, and with my daughter (#4) we have some concerns. She just walks to the beat of her own drummer was what we were told, no she beats the drummer up is what we said. Then, came number 5. All I could do was cry; I already have 2 kids with this, why would God send me another one to take care of?? He sent me her to remind me of what a joy my children are. There is nothing sweeter than watching my 2 kids who are "different" than their older siblings interact with their new little sister. To see the joy in my son's eyes when she( the baby) smiles at him, or to hear my daughter sing to her little sister. These are the joys of having a child with autism. The awe and wonder of a new sibling never wears off for them. How jaded life makes us, that the sweeet and simple wonder of a new baby can lose its appeal so quickly. I thank God everyday..ok well most days that is...that I am lucky enough to have my "little ones" in my life. They help me slow down and enjoy the simpler things in life.
Check out our family team at the Walk For Autism Event. We are The Phantastic Phetheans! Thanks, to Jen who let me in on the info, and set up our team. We are walking for our kids who deal with the effects of autism everyday.
Check out our family team at the Walk For Autism Event. We are The Phantastic Phetheans! Thanks, to Jen who let me in on the info, and set up our team. We are walking for our kids who deal with the effects of autism everyday.
Monday, September 1, 2008
A great start to the new school year!
Well we are off to a great start to the new school year. Caleb has decided that he is "big enough" to potty train. He has made the executive decision to wear his big boy chonies, and just let the girls wear diapers because they are babies. This is just the most wonderful thing ever!! We could not be more excited, he went all day yesterday while we were at church, and at home and didn't have one accident. We had one today, but that was while we were at the park. Caleb was so upset, he could not wait to get home to put his underwear on. Keep up the great work Caleb. We are so proud of you!
My Trips Around the World
I got this wonderful email from my Sister-In-Law, and well it describes my life wonderfully. I just had to share this..especially since Italy is not all that it's cracked up to be. I have been to Italy 2x's, and well while I have enjoyed it immensely, there is nothing in the world I would change about my trips to Holland, they are irreplaceable. Enjoy, and a special thanks to the lady who penned this.
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley.
c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandt's.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley.
c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandt's.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
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