tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52975119031263717072024-03-13T05:29:50.318-07:00Just Another Autism BlogA blog about our family.jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-36063297752820238642024-01-21T12:22:00.000-08:002024-01-21T12:22:14.578-08:00First Blog since 2018<p>Hello,</p><p>This is Jonathan typing, and this is the first blog made since May 18, 2018.</p><p>I want to tell you what has been going on since 2018. I'm now a sophomore at Vel Phillips Memorial High School. I've been having a YouTube channel since January 2018. My Grandma Mimi had moved here in December 2020. She got her own dog in February 2021. And we've gotten a dog for ourselves in April 2022, and his name is Waylon. There will be a seperate post on how Waylon came to our family later.</p><p>I've also been starting getting into game shows, such as <i>Jeopardy!, Wheel of Fortune, The Price is Right, Family Feud,</i> etc. Most of the time, I am a fan of <i>Jeopardy!</i>. There will also be a seperate post about it later.</p><p>We still have our cat Pepper, and we've been living in the same house like we've always been since 2010.</p><p>This is all, more posts coming soon.</p>MadisonJmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01596408031655173019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-27645672909204484672018-05-18T13:53:00.001-07:002018-05-18T13:53:46.425-07:00I sometimes forget....
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It’s been a while since my last post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Honestly, I just haven’t felt the need to
write.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our little Autism journey still
exists, but like with anything, it isn’t so different to us anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s normal life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s what we do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Our boy is 10 years old now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Heading into his last year of elementary school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He no longer has intensive therapy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is in a mainstreamed class in school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He goes to religious school, takes drum
lessons and has fallen in love with you-tube videos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normal 10 year kid, right?<o:p></o:p></div>
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So why did yesterday hurt so bad?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went to his school for an observation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An opportunity to see him in his school
environment, make sure that he is receiving the best services for his IEP
(Individualized Education Program).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
blended right in among his peers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I
saw it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I saw it when he demanded that his teacher set the timer
that he brought into school during math time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And since math was a little different that day because of an assessment,
he wandered around the room, a little lost and not sure what to do about the
timer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took his teachers three times
to redirect him to be able to get to work and not focus on the timer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I saw it when the teacher said math was over, and he yelled
out, “No it isn’t!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The timer didn’t go
off. “ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The teacher gave him a kind smile
and went with it, asking kids to start wrapping it up instead. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw it when he was sitting in his large classroom, mind
wandering, not really paying attention and just copying the image the teacher
drew as an example in science class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw it when he was directed to work with peers, and they were
talking and trying to work on a problem together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was too busy looking at the time to be
sure everything was on schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw it when I watched other kids interacting with each
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joking, teasing, dancing, being
silly together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a few that
would call out my kid’s name to say bye on the way out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it wasn’t the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another kid has our same last name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard someone ask if he and my boy were
related.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This kid was embarrassed and
yelled “no!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Typical kid stuff,
yes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little raw to me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even more so. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My son still loves his preschool shows and characters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He loves his light poles from a busy street
near our home, and carries around a deck of photos of screenshots he took of
the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The books he is reading are
about two grade levels below what the other kids are reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I don’t mean to compare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m just usually not in that situation to see
it so upfront.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To feel it so
sensitively. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I know he’s special.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know his talents shine in other ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know he’s not like all the
other kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just that sometimes I
forget that other kids are not like him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-44349541472199480552016-07-14T12:28:00.001-07:002016-07-14T12:28:18.774-07:00The GraduateFive years.<br />
<br />
It's been five years since we began a reluctant (but very much necessary) journey with Jonathan to help him assimilate to everyday life while on the spectrum. And if you would have told me that five years from then our boy would be "graduating" from the program, reveling in being the center of attention, yapping constantly for two hours, and appreciating everyone that was there in his own personal way--there is no way I'd have believed you. <br />
<br />
Yet that is what happened yesterday.<br />
<br />
Our journey, as is the case with most along the autism spectrum, has been a roller coaster ride. Five years ago Jonathan was barely verbal and he communicated mostly by pinching anyone who didn't give him his way. He wasn't potty trained and we didn't have a clue how we'd be teaching him that with a communication barrier. He had some epic meltdowns in public and in private. <br />
<br />
Yet Jonathan has always had a loving side too, and Jen and I and his WEAP (Wisconsin Early Autism Project) team wanted to coax as much of that out as possible. Yesterday it was evident that that particular mission had been accomplished--but it was so much more. No coaxing was necessary when it was all fueled by a boy's genuine excitement and sense of pride at graduating the program. It was Jonathan showing love for his friends and teachers, but on top of that he was the life of the party, something we would never have believed could happen back in 2011.<br />
<br />
Many of his therapists (aka "big friends") were there, including Stephanie, his first senior; Ali and Katie, his first line therapists; Jevin, his most recent senior; Chelsea, the "friends club" leader; Jenna, Caleb, and Caitlin--the more recent line therapists. His first/second grade teaching team of Ms. Bradley, Mrs. Carden and Mrs. Olander were there, and they have had an enormous impact on Jonathan as well--treating him like every other student and yet still giving him the personal attention he needs. <br />
<br />
When we came to the realization that Jonathan was ready to move on to the next chapter in his journey, it felt like the universe looked at him, looked at us and gave our family a wink, a nod and a giant thumbs up. The WEAP team was gracious, proud and accommodating, and suggested that we have this graduation ceremony. Jevin made him a diploma, and Jonathan gave a speech (much of it was Sesame Street scripting, but he was still fearless). <br />
<br />
We know this is just a stop on the journey. But it's one we can stop at, look around and be incredibly thankful to everyone that has shaped our boy into the awesome little person he's become. We can look forward with much less apprehension and much more excitement. We are humbled and appreciative. But mostly, we are proud of our son and all that he's accomplished so far.Madison G-manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16352245814630233919noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-6310744761664985752016-01-24T17:25:00.000-08:002016-01-24T17:25:07.634-08:00Career Aspirations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"When I grow up I want to be Santa Claus. And I will give presents to all the boys and girls. And my bedtime on Christmas Eve will be at 6am in the morning. And I will not die, because Santa does not die."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u_usLM8LYTA/VqVXrD5gMxI/AAAAAAAAAU4/e_Q4ZTcgu5A/s1600/IMG_5603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u_usLM8LYTA/VqVXrD5gMxI/AAAAAAAAAU4/e_Q4ZTcgu5A/s320/IMG_5603.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014 Santa photo with the family. An oldie pic, but a goodie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
That is a lofty career aspiration from my eight year old. But if he wants to be Santa, I have no doubt that he will be Santa. <br />
<br />
He has also wanted to be a yoga instructor, a Doctor, and now most recently, a Dentist.<br />
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This past week, he had a dental check up. He has been going to a Dentist since he was two years old. We have made concessions for him in order to be a positive experience. In therapy we played Dentist for a month straight before an appointment. At his appointments, he would cry, scream, and kick. But of recent he has really gotten the hang of it. <br />
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This last visit, he was a rockstar. A dental patient rockstar. (there has to be such a thing, right?)<br />
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We arrived at 4. He knew the office closed at 4:30. When he was called back, he said to the Hygienist, "I'm your last customer of the day!" He chatted it up with the her. Talking about the blue cupcake he ate at school for his friend's birthday. He asked her about her work schedule and if she worked everyday. At one point she said, "OK Jonathan. You need to stop talking so I can brush your teeth."<br />
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During his check up, he said, "Um Nurse. There is something I should tell you. I need pictures of my teeth." The kid was ASKING for x-rays. So she obliged. She suggested we do a panoramic x-ray. And he did great listening and staying still while they did the x-ray. When the results came back to the computer, he asked me if we could take a picture of it. He also was really into all the notes she took. He even got to give me an "exam." <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RegRgrp1MnM/VqV4FZTfsvI/AAAAAAAAAVY/lV0i2wXRVPw/s1600/IMG_8606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RegRgrp1MnM/VqV4FZTfsvI/AAAAAAAAAVY/lV0i2wXRVPw/s320/IMG_8606.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His X-ray. Kinda freaky<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning the documentation program early </td></tr>
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So while he was making the Hygienist laugh with his inquisitive and funny dialog, the big man arrived. The Dentist. <br />
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"Dr. T! I'm so happy to see you. How was your Christmas? I got a Lego Fire Transporter!"<br />
Dr T. laughed. He has been seeing Jonathan for a while I think he likes the kid. <br />
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When Jonathan asked his birthday and license plate number, it was no problem. They even went to a window to take a picture of his car. When Jonathan mentioned it was after 4:30, and the office was closed, the Dentist laughed and told Jonathan that sometimes they need to work a little bit over. And that was OK. Lastly, Jonathan wanted to make sure he got a picture with his favorite Dentist. Jonathan said "I want to be like you."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two Rockstars in one picture!</td></tr>
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It was one of the most positive dental experiences. And the kid was so excited all day to go there. This was a perfect appointment; years in the making. <br />
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I am so proud. I'm sure this is how Santa's mother feels too.<br />
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jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-71197093749257701962015-12-31T14:50:00.000-08:002015-12-31T14:50:53.901-08:00What Will the New Year Bring?<br />
When my son was first diagnosed, one of our therapists put me in touch with another Mom who was further into their journey than we were. It was an opportunity to connect with someone that once stood in my shoes. They were also well into the ABA therapy program that we were looking into. I was raw and sad. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to ask. I just knew I needed help and understanding from someone that had been there. <br />
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It was a nice meeting in a coffee shop. I don't think I cried, which at the time was a huge accomplishment. We talked about therapy. We talked about other networks to connect with Autism families. But one thing that that stood out to me was she wasn't sure when she should tell her son he had Autism. He was doing well. He was mainstreamed in school, played soccer on the weekend, and overcame a lot of his earlier struggles. But her biggest worry at the time was explaining to her son he was different and labeled.<br />
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At the time I could not relate to that problem. My son wasn't talking at all! Having to explain to him what autism was seemed liked a daydream. <br />
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That was over four years ago.<br />
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Now I find myself on the other side of the coffee table. <br />
I'm being called and asked questions about therapy, what worked for us, and to be the person that once stood in their shoes. And I'm honestly flattered that other people are asking me the questions I had when I felt so alone.<br />
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Except our journey continues. We are just at a different crossroads further along the path. And now I wonder... when will I have to explain what Autism is to my son? I think that day may be soon.<br />
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Our therapy looks so different than what it looked like when we started. And we've started to adjust to JJ's needs. Instead of "table times" and learning to speak, he needs more play dates and peer play. He still struggles socially with peers. But he is getting so much better with it.<br />
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And it makes me wonder what lies ahead. How will middle school and high school be for him? Will he continue to have friendships? Will he find a sport, music or art form that he becomes passionate about? Will he ever learn to ride a two-wheeler? Where will he go to college (because I KNOW that will happen for him). Will he always live with us? Will he always want to? What will he be when he grows up?<br />
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And guess what.... these are questions ALL parents ask themselves for their children. Not just Autism parents. When did we get here? When did the tables turn? It all seems like a blur.<br />
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So while this year comes to a close, I wonder what the New Year will bring for our boy, for our family, and selfishly, for me. I hope that other families continue to feel comfortable to continue calling us... because one day they too will be on the other side. And it feels good knowing I can be a small part in their journey, just as others have played a small part in ours.<br />
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Happy New Year All!<br />
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<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-48660773162151342982015-09-12T12:21:00.003-07:002015-09-12T12:22:28.653-07:00Still Just Another Autism BlogIt has been since 2014 since I last wrote a post. <br />
Not intentional. Just haven't felt like writing.<br />
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But thanks to Facebook, I've been receiving "memories." My posts on that day every year previous. <br />
I've had this blog for 4 years. What an amazing reminder.<br />
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I remember the first time I posted. I was so sad. Scared. Relieved. Excited. Thankful. <br />
I posted it to Facebook and refreshed my notifications every few minutes. Each person that reached out, liked or shared literally made me cry. <br />
Mike came home from the store that morning to me, sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing. <br />
"What's wrong?!" He thought someone died.<br />
"I wrote a blog."<br />
I felt like I was coming out... my first official announcement of our diagnosis. We were living with special needs. Andwe were not alone.<br />
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Here we am, 4 years later. 9 months since the last blog post. We still struggle. We still cry. <br />
But oh how far we've come. <br />
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We are in the throws of elementary school. <br />
Therapy looks like play time. Playdates with friends and neighbors, although supervised and sometimes regimented, are on the regular.<br />
JJ talks, engages, asks questions, states his feelings and so much more. He is more flexible in routine, plans and rules than ever.<br />
New challenges have popped up along the way. Not every day is easy. But easier days are more frequent.<br />
This is life. This is normal. <br />
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We are still Just Another Autism Blog.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fVHiQb2Hd_U/VfR7FQk5HjI/AAAAAAAAAUY/3-zHPeS5pcE/s1600/IMG_6452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fVHiQb2Hd_U/VfR7FQk5HjI/AAAAAAAAAUY/3-zHPeS5pcE/s320/IMG_6452.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am me!</td></tr>
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<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-32428307668592634902014-12-30T15:56:00.001-08:002014-12-31T07:41:43.973-08:00My Baby's First HaircutOn an unassuming Tuesday afternoon in late December, I cried at the hair salon. It was a day that took years in the making. It was a day that seriously put me at a loss for words. <br />
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My son got a haircut at a hair salon.</div>
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Let's rewind to 2010, when he was 2 years old. I took him to get a haircut at one of those chain places. He kicked the poor girl. He cried and screamed so loud that patrons left. And it was so long ago, I think he may have gotten nicked with the scissors on his ear. But I could be making that up.</div>
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Regardless, he refused to get his hair cut. Eventually I was able to cut his hair at home. </div>
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He would say "only 25 cuts" and would count each time I snipped. I told my Mom, "I just don't want him to look like an a-hole." I didn't trust my styling expertise. But I tried, and whenever his hair got too long, we would sit down on the kitchen floor, mirror in front of us, and would pray it would come out OK. </div>
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And then came in Jenn. OUR hairdresser. </div>
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Jenn is a friend of mine. She has her own little shop in at a hairdresser co-op place. She has her own room...with a door that can shut. I've been going to her for a few years. Jonathan has come with me on occasion. So he saw Jenn in action. </div>
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When I told Jenn that Jonathan would not get his haircut at a salon, she accepted it as a challenge. She gave me pointers on how to cut his hair at home. We made "appointments" to just visit her and try to sit in her chair. She told me, "He can come here 100 times and sit in the chair. I don't care. It will happen one day."</div>
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For some reason, I recently stopped cutting his hair. The last time I cut it, it was August, right before school started. So it was long. REAL long. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tEGCmRyKO8Y/VKM5VGnuddI/AAAAAAAAATI/HtzQHZdfbc4/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tEGCmRyKO8Y/VKM5VGnuddI/AAAAAAAAATI/HtzQHZdfbc4/s1600/photo%2B1%2B(2).JPG" height="320" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken a few days ago. Long. Real long.</td></tr>
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Since Jonathan still loves to watch pre-school TV, there are lots of episodes of his favorite shows with characters receiving haircuts. Shows like Handy Manny, Dora, Bubble Guppies, Team Umizoomi. And for some reason, they were on a lot this week. </div>
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We made an appointment. We had no expectations. </div>
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I told him if he let Jenn cut his hair, we could go get a doughnut. </div>
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Bribery? </div>
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Positive reinforcement? </div>
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Who cares. It worked. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutting</td></tr>
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Jenn was AMAZING. Patient. Kind. Listened to Jonathan and did everything to make him comfortable. He even chatted it up with her! It was amazing to watch. </div>
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And then I realized, he was not such a little boy anymore. He was growing up. His hair was shorter. He had confidence to let someone do something that was scary to him. He was trying. </div>
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That's when I cried. I also realized that this haircut meant more to me then his very first one when he was a baby. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ti66AZAg5o/VKM5r6zcnXI/AAAAAAAAATU/e53CinjGQww/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ti66AZAg5o/VKM5r6zcnXI/AAAAAAAAATU/e53CinjGQww/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TA DAH!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I have short hair!"</td></tr>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But ever the comedian, Jonathan asked about getting some hair color. And Jenn made it happen. (Don't worry. It washes out). </div>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jonathan has agreed to go again. No more "a-hole haircut from Mom" for him. He is now a big boy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I cannot thank my dear friend Jenn enough for accepting a challenge and making it happen. She is not only OUR hairdresser. She is OUR friend.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
PS. You can visit Jenn's at her J.Erin Designs website <a href="http://www.jerindesign.com/" target="_blank">here</a>!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-21062924918268522872014-10-27T09:25:00.002-07:002014-10-27T09:25:32.796-07:00An Apology to anyone who stayed at our Holiday Inn Express This is an apology letter to anyone we may have woken up between the hours of 4 and 5am this morning at the Holiday Inn Express we stayed at last night. <br />
No one was dying. <br />
No one was drunk.<br />
No one was being beaten.<br />
It was just our son being dragged to the car to catch our 6:30am flight back home. <br />
<br />
Let me back up a bit.<br />
<br />
We took a long weekend trip to upstate NY for celebrate my Mother-in-law's 80th birthday. It was to be a very low key weekend, but did require us to take 2 airplanes to get there with limited flights. So we did what we always do... prep for the worst and hope for the best. We wrote a social story about the trip. Prepped the boy as best we could, and off we went! Mike and I were both a bit leery due to our son's recent behavior. Meltdowns, tantrum and overall non-compliance has been the norm the past few weeks. But things were settling down, so maybe we would get lucky.<br />
<br />
The trip there was perfect. Flights on time, good kid that listened well, bags retrieved from being checked-in. All was well. JJ was so excited to be in New York, He was so happy to see his Grandma, Aunt and Uncle. He even loved our rental car and hotel room. It was a very relaxing few days. <br />
<br />
On Sunday night, we did cake and candles for Grandma. Her birthday is actually on Wednesday, but we were not going to be there at that time. This was not overlooked by JJ. He FLIPPED OUT when we sang "Happy Birthday" because it wasn't really Grandma's birthday. And he wanted to sing a different birthday song, but no one knew the song he wanted to sing. We knew we were treading into dangerous territory, so we hurried ourselves up and got back to the hotel room to get some sleep.<br />
<br />
He knew we had to get up early. He was telling us all weekend that we would leave at 4:45 and that we would wake up at 3. It was in the book.<br />
<br />
No dice. 4am rolled around. Mike and I were getting our stuff together. JJ would not move from sleep. Like a sleeping Giant, if you will. We cuddled him, and gave him kisses. Rubbed his back and talked smoothly to pry him from sleep. <br />
All we got was "No! I want to sleep all day. We will go home tomorrow."<br />
We set the timer to get him moving into his daily morning routine.<br />
We begged.<br />
We pleaded. <br />
We bribed.<br />
We wrote more books.<br />
We negotiated a 4:46 departure time. <br />
We did everything we could. I even told him he could go to the airport in just his underwear. <br />
<br />
So you see, we were getting no where. I had to pick him up. It was 4:47 after-all!<br />
<br />
He screamed like bloody murder. He wanted his clothes on. We put them on. He wanted different pants. All the pants were already packed away and in the car. His negotiating was not getting us anywhere. <br />
<br />
So I grabbed him, hoisted him up as far as I could. Mike scooped everything up from the room. And JJ just screamed as we went down the hallway, into the elevator, down the elevator and into the lobby. <br />
<br />
He screamed like I was killing him; taking out his toe nails one by one. But we just had to do it. We had to leave.<br />
<br />
Thankfully the front desk guy was so nice. He told Mike not to worry, the hotel was not that full, and he had a little one at home too. Mike asked, "With Autism?" The guy said, "No. But I know how kids can be." <br />
<br />
We got him to calm down in the lobby, changed his pants, and made our way. He walked out on his own accord to the car...no need to carry him. In the dark on the drive to the airport, I held his hand... me in the front seat, him in the back. He whimpered. He said, "I am sad. I was crying." And then he relaxed, looked out the window and said, "It is dark. Soon the sun will be peaking up!"<br />
<br />
At this point, we knew we were OK. Our boy was back from him tantrum and was so much better. <br />
That's when I cried. <br />
<br />
Not because it sucked (because it did.) <br />
Not because I was exhausted (because I was). <br />I cried because he is so tortured, and there is nothing I could do in the situation but to physically move him. <br />
<br />
He has made so so so much progress in the past few years, but it was one of those times that remind us that yes, he has Autism. And it is not easy. <br />
<br />
<b>And we will never, ever, ever book a 6:30am flight again.</b><br />
<br />
PS. We made it home without further incident. We are so glad we all made it home in one piece. Now off to schedule that massage appointment. <br />
<br />
PPS. If you are reading this, and we did wake you up, please know a donation is being made to an Autism charity in your name. And we are really sorry!jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-49729413681147543582014-09-22T17:13:00.000-07:002014-09-22T17:13:16.772-07:00Seperation Anxiety and it is Breaking My Heart<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not even really sure what is wrong. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve been starting our days fine. The normal routine of
things. He’s been asking to take showers
and dry his hair with the hairdryer every morning. He is imitating me. Even going so far as to pretend to use the
curling iron. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But when we get to school, he gets very quiet and very
sad. He puts on a brave face by looking
down and hiding under his hat. His eyes
get wide and he fakes a smile. He looks
like he is going to erupt into tears at any second. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He asks to go to the bathroom. He cries there. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He can’t tell me why he is sad. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is it a bully?<br />
Is someone being mean to him?<br />
Is he not feeling well?<br />
Does he not like a teacher he is working with?<br />
Is he just having some separation anxiety?<br />
Is he upset because he is not in control?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know what the answer is. No one seems to be able to get an answer out
of him. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I can’t keep leaving him like this. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is breaking my heart.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yet, once he gets on with his day, he is fine
again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something is going on.
I don’t like it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been dropping him off at various activities and schools
since he was two. Why now, in first
grade is he having such problems?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And he knows it makes me sad. He says he wants to do better. We started a points chart to reinforce
him. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know if it will work. We just need to move past this phase. And hope that is there <i>really </i>is something
wrong, he can tell me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-17643712809469246472014-09-01T15:09:00.001-07:002014-09-01T15:09:19.979-07:00Eve of a New School Year<br />
You start a new school year tomorrow, buddy.<br />
<br />
You did great last year in Kindergarten. You had some amazing teachers and supporters. You made people melt with your smile and personality. You showed others what a sweet and loving boy you are. <br />
This summer was challenging, but you overcame. New routines, old therapists leaving our team, T-Ball, tornado warnings, new jobs, a new found love of fuse beads, legos, legos and more legos! And you were such a good and brave boy when we went to say good-bye to Grandpa Jim.<br />
<br />
You are silly, funny, hilarious and fun-loving. I hope this is something you never loose. <br />
<br />
As a rainbow shines over your elementary school the day before school starts (literally), my wish for you is you continue being you.... my silly, wonderful, smiley boy.<br />
<br />
Have a great first day at first grade! So excited for a wonderful year!jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-41213026320538085372014-05-11T08:32:00.000-07:002014-05-11T15:06:28.287-07:00Mother's Day"I don't know how you do it."<br />
"It must be so hard."<br />
"You have an extra hard job."<br />
"It takes a special person."<br />
"G-d doesn't give us more then we can handle."<br />
<br />
When I hear these comments, I know they are meant with love and respect. I know this.<br />
<br />
But they can be said about any mother. Not just me. <br />
I can say the same comments to the Mom's out there that are potty training their toddlers. Or the ones who have extra, super, outgoing kids. Or those who have kids who might be a little more shy then others. Those dealing with newborns or teenagers. Mothers of all kinds.<br />
<br />
My friend Jody used to say, "Every kid has something." Ours happens to be Autism. <br />
<br />
Autism is a part of our lives, yes. But so is work, music, exercise, laughter, love, back pain, families that live far away, food, and more. <br />
<br />
I'm Jonathan's Mom. And yes, when we received an Autism Spectrum Diagnosis over three years ago, I was very sad. But Mike and I both have unconsciously decided to roll with it. Not let it define us. Jonathan has taught me to be a flexible Mom. To not expect anything, and enjoy every little thing. To laugh at all the funny things. To stop and smell the roses. To listen with open ears and love with an open heart. To understand that everyone has something that makes them different. He is my greatest gift, one that give back to me everyday.<br />
<br />
And I know I'm not alone in how I feel about being a Mother.<br />
<br />
Just like Autism does not define my son, it does not define me. <br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<3 <3 <3 </div>
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-4115844191637820742014-02-09T15:43:00.001-08:002014-02-09T15:43:46.125-08:00Time Keeps on Ticking....He is obsessed with calendars.<br />
Obsessed.<br />
He has my 2013 planner, a 2013-2014 planner I bought for him, my current 2014 planner (that he steals from my purse everyday), and a 2014 Mickey Mouse calendar on his bed. He sleeps with them every night.<br />
<br />
His favorite app on his iPad (next to google maps) is the calendar. He can flip from year to year. I glanced over and saw him all the way up to 6250. Ya know, the year six thousand two hundred fifty. Right around the corner.<br />
<br />
Recently he said, "January is going on a trip. And January will be back in 2015."<br />
<br />
He spent a morning with me at work a few weeks ago. He grabbed my desk calendar and wrote in the days that were missing at the beginning and ending of each month to fill in the weeks (you know from the previous and upcoming months). He filled the days in for each month. I love that I can look at that everyday and see a part of him when I'm at work.<br />
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<br />
<br />
I wonder how he sees the calendar. I wonder what it is about the calendar that bring him so much joy and comfort. <br />
<br />
At least I'll never have to worry about knowing what day it is. He'll always be sure to let me know. <br />
<br />
The minute it turned February, he yelled with glee, "It's February! Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy!"<br />
<br />
He filled out Valentine's for his classmates today. Writing their names in the "to" section and then his name in the "from" section. He finished 19 for his classmates, and I didn't have to help once. <br />
<br />
He is learning so much at school. He is getting so tall. He is becoming such a mischievous, independent, and a rambunctious little boy. <br />
<br />
If only that calendar could go backwards sometimes. <br />
I'll even take staying where it is for a bit longer too.<br />
It all moves so fast sometimes.<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-18543934863313312212013-12-15T16:19:00.004-08:002013-12-15T16:19:56.005-08:00How Do We Keep Going?So I really shouldn't check my Facebook first thing in the morning, before my coffee, before I'm upright. <br />
<br />
That was apparent this week: <br />
I learned of a childhood friend who's husband is dying, and she will soon have to raise two young children on her own. <br />I was reminded of the year anniversary of Sandy Hook. <br />There was another school shooting.<br />A "Superman" in the body of a sick 9 year old boy that left us all too soon. <br />
It made me wonder why it was even worth getting out of bed?<br />
<br />
Then I will hear these words from the other room, "Can I go potty?"<br />
<br />
And all I can think next is, I love hearing him say full sentences. <br />
<br />
Better get up and make the coffee and start this day.<br />
<br />
And I'll remember to not pick up my iPhone / Facebook until after I get a big hug from my sweet six-year old. <br />
<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-60099168364625369702013-12-01T16:21:00.000-08:002013-12-01T16:21:02.062-08:00A Headache of a Different Kind The other day when putting my boy to bed, I asked him to stop working on a puzzle so we could go upstairs and put his jammies on. He objected a bit, as he does every night. But I reassured him he can finish tomorrow. <br />
<br />
Up the stairs we went. We finished out nightime routine of washing up, brushing teeth, putting on jammies and reading two books. As we were moving on to the final step before turning on music and going to sleep, which is getting a small cup of water, I turned around. He was in tears. Sudden. Abrupt. Makes your heart hurt, tears. <br />
<br />
I asked him what was wrong. He couldn't answer. Between the hyperventilating, all he could say was, "Nap." Nap is his description for "I'm sad and need a break." So I took him back to his room and hugged him as tight as I could. He was sad about something. I couldn't figure it out. <br />
<br />
When he settled down a bit, I asked him again why he was sad. <br />
"I'm sad."<br />
<br />
I know. Is it school? Is it friends? Is it Mommy and Daddy?<br />
<br />
"No. Take a nap."<br />
<br />
Tears again.<br />
<br />
Mike came in to see what was up. <br />
"Jonathan, does your belly hurt? Does your head hurt?"<br />
Jonathan pointed to his head as the area that was causing him the discomfort. <br />
But this cry was not one of pain. It was one of being sad. He would stop crying, and then start again a few minutes later. <br />
<br />
Jonathan wanted me to write him a book. He <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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It didn't provide much info, except "I crying. I take a nap. Mommy does breathing. We will do yoga tomorrow. The end."<br />
<br />
So I tried again after about a half hour of on and off crying. <br />
"Buddy, what hurts?"<br />
He pointed to his head. Something in his head hurt. <br />
Could it be his brain? Like something was left un-done?<br />
<br />
"Buddy, do you want to go downstairs and finish your puzzle?"<br />
"YES!"<br />
<br />
We went downstairs and he finished the puzzle. He looked at his finished piece, smiled and said, "OK. Now we have water and go to bed."<br />
<br />
His head hurt, because something was left undone. <br />
And it broke my heart. <br />
Little things, like an unfinished puzzle, can weigh so heavy on him. <br />
Sometimes we need to slow down; listen to hear what he is trying to tell us. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-49896261321220978742013-11-24T12:51:00.001-08:002013-11-25T09:21:50.975-08:00Thanksgiving Thanks<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So obviously I have not done such a hot job of keeping up
with the blog this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I am not
making excuses for it, whatsoever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>2013 has seen a lot of joys, challenges, triumphs and defeats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I feel like our little family lived
every moment of it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the holiday season upon us, kicking off with
Thanksgiving this week, I thought it would be appropriate to quickly reflect on
what I am thankful for, from what I learned this year.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<ol start="1" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">I am
thankful for <b>Mike</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I was reminded how much fun we have
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took a trip up north
to Door Co, and laughed the entire time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This trip came after a rough few months earlier for us as a
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But through adversity, we
came together with strength, commitment and a lot of humor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can’t ask for much more!<br /> </li>
</ol>
<ol start="2" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">I am
thankful for <b>my growing boy</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As he gets older, he is gaining more confidence, independence and
his own way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are seeing more
and more his sense of humor, his likes and dislikes, and the desire to do
things on his own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since he
started Kindergarten this year at “big school,” it has been amazing to see
this growth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is learning to
make friends; he is trying so hard in everything he does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worry as he gets older the factors of
adolescence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Growing up is
hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t even imagine the
outside factors we have ahead of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can only hope for acceptance, tolerance and of understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m also excited to see who this
little man will become.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<ol start="3" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">I am
thankful for <b>the system</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The system? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The school system that is giving our
son support that he needs, even if we have to push a little for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for our health insurance that pays
for his advanced therapy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for
the people that work to help him so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Without these systems, we would be alone and in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we’ve met so many wonderful, good
people along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<ol start="4" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">I am
thankful <b>for those that came before us</b>, to fight for assistance
where it’s needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I don’t
feel like a “Warrior Autism Mom” because the people that came before me
have set up such a positive path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I still fight where I need to, but knowing I don’t have to fight as
hard, and can concentrate on my family makes things that much easier.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
I could keep going, but I haven’t
blogged or written down my thoughts in a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I’m a little tired, yo!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Until next time! </div>
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-19560494733765881082013-09-15T14:39:00.001-07:002013-09-15T14:39:24.328-07:00Sometimes I wish I was Leslie MannWe are two weeks into Big School. He has been doing great. I love his teacher. She seems to get him, and helps him. <br />
<br />
I'm struggling a bit with his special services at school, but it is the beginning of the school year, which I know is a hectic time. But I hope for some constancy soon. <br />
<br />
He is so wound up by the end of the day. Poor kid... he goes to school all day, and then has therapy until 6:45 everyday. It is a full day for anyone. And he just wants to stay up and sing, yap, dance, read, etc. I think by having a new routine for the fall, he thrives... and it is hard to settle. <br />
<br />
I did have a little boy in his class tell me I have a mean kid. That my kid pinches the teachers. Well, I already knew that. My friends at work told me I should have gone all "This is 40" on the kid.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
<br />
Honestly, it was funny, because this same kid told me the day before that Jonathan has his friend, and gave him a hug. <br />
<br />
But all in all, we are all getting used to our new routines and new schedules. <br />
<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-89818629893762430882013-08-04T09:37:00.001-07:002013-08-04T09:37:51.507-07:00Change is in the AirOur little blog received a bit of love from <a href="http://www.blueridgeoutdoors.com/trail-mix/mike-farley-on-making-music-and-raising-a-son-with-autism/">blueridgeoutdoors.com.</a> And after realizing it had been since May since an updated post, I knew I was woefully behind.<br />
<br />
But what to write about?<br />
<br />
Our family seems to be in that in between time. That time where you know change is going to happen soon. You can see it coming from down the road. There is nothing you can do to stop it. You have to just wait and enjoy the ride.<br />
<br />
I felt this when I was pregnant with Jonathan. When we were getting ready for our big move to Wisconsin. And now again. This time.... Kindergarten.<br />
<br />
Our son has been attending the same preschool since we have moved to this area. He was 2 1/2 when he started. He will be six at the end of this month.<br />
<br />
We've been preparing for a while. We had his IEP (Individualized Education Program) worked out with the school system in March. We've meet teachers and educators at the school. We talk about "big school" daily. He knows the first day of school date. He knows some friends that will also be there.<br />
<br />
But he also thinks we will only be visiting Kindergarten, getting back into the blue car, and going to his current classroom at the preschool.<br />
<br />
It is getting close to the time I need to write the official social story about "big school."<br />
<br />
I've been purchasing the school supplies, noted off the cryptic list his school sends out. Yesterday, while at Target, everyone and their mother were in my way, down each aisle, while I tried frantically to figure out which pre-sharpened pencil brand I needed to purchase. (Seriously, a family had three generations buying school supplies were in my way!) I wanted to run in tears.<br />
<br />
How can he be this big for school supplies already? He is no longer a baby, toddler or tiny tot. He is a school-ager. He is tall. He looks like a big boy, with his missing front tooth. His clothes size no longer match his age, but rather are marked as small, medium or large.<br />
<br />
And I worry. I'll always worry. It is the unknown that scares me the most. Will be make friends? Will other kids like him and be as patient with him as his preschool peers? Will he be able to keep up to academic expectations? Will he like school? Will he like his teachers? Will his teachers get him? Will he always be so innocent and lovable and affectionate?<br />
<br />
But I need to remember...this is not about me. This is his journey. I'm only there to gently guide. It doesn't make it any easier, does it? <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eLh_MqAFi60/Uf6DCZNPOtI/AAAAAAAAARg/9Rp4CHZ6EfY/s1600/jj+and+bl.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eLh_MqAFi60/Uf6DCZNPOtI/AAAAAAAAARg/9Rp4CHZ6EfY/s320/jj+and+bl.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Boy walking our neighbor's dog. What a good helper!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-42306865987042999782013-05-26T07:16:00.001-07:002013-05-26T07:16:55.060-07:00Love and Luck: Why I Feel Fine After This Ectopic Pregnancy <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You’re pregnant.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those were the words the ER nurse told me on May 11<sup>th</sup>,
as I lay in the hospital bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
husband took me to the ER two hours prior because I was in so much pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Pregnant?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
understand?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How is that possible?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mike looked at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
burst into tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why couldn’t this be
easy?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve never been the couple that got pregnant at the snap of
the fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have struggled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve been struggling for a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had all but given up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But now. A glimmer of hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But it didn’t feel right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
all, I was in the emergency room.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went to the ER because of abdominal pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something hadn’t been right for about a
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that day, I couldn’t
stand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t use the
bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns out my bladder was too
full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My body was calling out S.O.S!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went home that day, with the news that I was
pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was to go to my Doctor on
Monday to see if my hormone levels increased the way they needed to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To see if there was a viable pregnancy in
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“If all goes well, and I hope it does…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We said that the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Mother’s Day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seven years prior, before Jonathan, we celebrated Mother’s
Day for the first time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took us nine months to get
to that point where there were two blue lines on the test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We told our Mothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were excited at the possibilities of
actually being parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That ended on
Memorial Day when I was rushed to the Operating Room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pregnancy was in my tube.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ectopic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was nothing they
could do but get it out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five months later, we were pregnant with Jonathan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We remained cautiously optimistic until we
actually saw him on the ultrasound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
struggled and now we had been rewarded with this gift.<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After Jonathan was born, I thought we could have more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had always wanted two kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Birth control went out the window while my
four month old slept in his crib.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
body would be ready, I thought. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
more blue lines on the test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t want fertility to become a member of our
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we were off and on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happy to keep trying, ambivalent if it
didn’t happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike and I didn’t want
anything invasive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had our boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t want to be greedy or press our
luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it happened, it happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It didn’t happen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shelved that dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And I was actually OK with it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the doctor’s office on Monday, I went alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike had to pick up Jonathan at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life needed to keep going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was no life inside me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Ectopic
again. My second Ectopic Pregnancy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No need to rush to surgery this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We found out pretty early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So they treated me with shots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shots of chemo, but shots none the less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This would work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in a week, I would come back, things would be working the way
they should, and we can get on with our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went back the following week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was still there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
levels didn’t go down enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed
another shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why couldn’t my body
cooperate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why couldn’t this be over?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By Wednesday morning, almost two weeks after getting the
news of this pregnancy, I was still in pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I didn’t feel right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike took
me to the ER that morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Doctor,
Mike and I decided, we needed to get this done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shots were a great effort, but the tube needed to come
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the same tube that gave me trouble last time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If we took it out, I wouldn‘t ever need to worry about it
causing this problem again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a
choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I chose to move
forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By then, the reality of an actual baby was gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t seem real to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had mourned for two weeks prior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a five year old at home who was scared
because Mommy didn’t feel good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so people stepped forward to care for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wonderful people changed their plans to help
keep Jonathan’s routine normal while Mommy was in the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They picked him up from school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They stayed while he had therapy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They made him dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They put him to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They made us dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They sent flowers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They held Mike’s hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They held my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They sent
love and light and good wishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And Jonathan knew Mommy was OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Doctors made Mommy better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of this made me remember what a precious gift life
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a miracle it is to create
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That my five year old, despite
his struggles, his Autism, is the most amazing and special gift I have ever
received</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I feel like my body failed me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we discovered why we’ve had so many
struggles over the years to have a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Turns out there was more going on inside me than I knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I mourn that I can’t give my husband
another child…at least naturally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But Jonathan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike and I are the
luckiest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-69587205649491875002013-05-19T15:04:00.001-07:002013-05-19T15:04:11.517-07:00ObsessionsIt is late. I'm trying to get him to sleep. It is already an hour past his bedtime, yet he is wired. I lay down beside him, and in my calmest voice, tell him to sleep, while I stroke his back.<br />
<br />
He pops up, looks at me and says, "And tomorrow will be Monday. We will have muffins for breakfast. And on Tuesday, we will have blueberry bread for breakfast. And on Wednesday, we will have french toast sticks for breakfast...."<br />
He told me the entire breakfast menu for his school for the next upcoming two weeks. Then the lunch menu and then the snack menu. <br />
<br />
I thought, he couldn't know this. I got up. Went to take a look at the copy we have. And sure enough, he was right. He memorized the menu. He even was clear to say, "on Monday we will be closed for Memorial Day." Yup. It said exactly that on the menu.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-El_YrEuWVWM/UZlLwnjenyI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/qpqCbbt2HCE/s1600/menu.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-El_YrEuWVWM/UZlLwnjenyI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/qpqCbbt2HCE/s1600/menu.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See. Totally something to get excited about.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He makes me laugh. His obsessions are odd, random, and often hilarious.I've even called them <a href="http://justanotherautismblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/quirky-crap-my-kid-does.html" target="_blank">quirky</a>. <br />
Here they are, in no particular order:<br />
<br />
Blue Car<br />
<a href="http://justanotherautismblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/ode-to-lightpole.html" target="_blank">Lightpole (</a>specifically the one across the street from his school)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-46_t9A-ViyA/UZlLwpAOMqI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Pa3TLslMnus/s1600/lightpole.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-46_t9A-ViyA/UZlLwpAOMqI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Pa3TLslMnus/s1600/lightpole.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hark! i see lightpole!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Signs (aka, traffic signs at the busy intersection near our neighborhood) <br />
The Calendar<br />
<a href="http://justanotherautismblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/jonathan-and-his-posse.html" target="_blank">Yellow Milk </a><br />
Trader Joe's Elevator. Making sure we have a silver suitcase with us when we see elevator.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eg-zcu-JfLE/UZlLTPHyUyI/AAAAAAAAAQw/kebt9LP3Tt4/s1600/trader+joes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eg-zcu-JfLE/UZlLTPHyUyI/AAAAAAAAAQw/kebt9LP3Tt4/s1600/trader+joes.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">note the silver suitcase. it comes with us every shipping trip. we tell people there is a million dollars in there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Carnival Rides <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNTHwcfaBIU/UZlLRwewBCI/AAAAAAAAAQo/eSzD2FBD-po/s1600/bees.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNTHwcfaBIU/UZlLRwewBCI/AAAAAAAAAQo/eSzD2FBD-po/s1600/bees.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ironically, all these pictures were from this weekend alone!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
His quirky, funny obsessions just make him who he is. jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-89143153787988895562013-04-07T13:08:00.001-07:002013-04-07T14:16:16.329-07:00Thoughts on Autism Awareness Month Our <a href="http://justanotherautismblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/reunting-and-it-feels-so-good.html" target="_blank">event </a>on March 30th was a success!<br />
<br />
My kiddo was a rockstar of his own. He transitioned so well during the
week in Ohio, meeting and seeing lots of unfamiliar people. I was so proud of
how well he did.<br />
<br />
<br />
It was a true family reunion. A friends reunion. A band reunion.<br />
And we raised almost $5,000 for Autism Speaks.<br />
<br />
I was so proud to be a part of the event, and so humbled by all the support.<br />
<br />
When the band decided to reunite and make it a fundraiser for Autism, I had a hard time deciding which organization to support. Should we go more local? But with members living in Ohio and Wisconsin, who's local were we talking about? Also, I knew people would want to support, even if they couldn't be there. So online donation opportunities was a must. That is how we decided to support Autism Speaks. They have nationwide support system, and a broad usage for monies raised. <br />
<br />
However, I had a true realization. The realization of how polarizing the Autism community can be. <br />
With April being Autism Awareness Acceptance etc Month, I've read a lot of other people kind of poo pooing Autism Speaks and the "Light it Up Blue" campaign.<br />
<br />
As parents of children with ASD, yes, we are aware of Autism ever day, of every month, of every year. And I'm sure some breast cancer patients don't want to wear a pink ribbon, or have that color represent them. The month of April can be daunting. But Autism is daunting. Cancer is daunting. Hell, sometimes getting up to go to work is daunting!<br />
<br />
What I want to say is, I don't think it is fair for others to be so judgmental of an awareness campaign. It is one step. And all of us are in various parts of our journey. So yes, I agree that Autism education is needed, as is Autism research, and Autism support, and Autism respite, and Autism therapies for so many children in need.... We, as parents, ARE aware. But others really are not. And the only way for these other needs to happen are if others are aware. It is not Autism Pity Month. It is the need that in the future, 1 in 88 ADULTS (today's children) will have struggled in their childhood to be able to have a conversation, to be heard and to be who they are. And those 1 in 88 adults will be looking for work and struggling to navigate their world. <br />
<br />
So for now, I support anyone and any organization that is willing to do work for our kids. Whether it be Autism Speaks or a local organization to help kids get iPads or help pay for therapy for those that need it. <br />
<br />
I'm aware...aware that our struggles are not ours alone. <br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-14029039723226197002013-03-10T08:34:00.000-07:002013-03-10T08:34:09.820-07:00Marching into IEPs, Benefit Shows and General Play Time!March has been busy, fun and overwhelming!<br />
Here is a quick update on us.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>THE KINDERGARTEN IEP</b><br />
<br />
We had his Kindergarten IEP meeting. <br />
A dozen adults sitting around the table. Half his current school therapists and teacher, the other half his next year therapists and (possible) teacher. Plus Mike and I.<br />
It was like an introduction... THIS IS JONATHAN.<br />
They read his current report of how he is doing. And then we assessed what support we could use for next year.<br />
<br />
It went so well. <br />
<br />
Everyone seemed genuinely interested in helping him transition to "Big School." We took notes on ways to help him over the summer. We planned on what the first month of school will look like. The teachers asked about current peers that knew him, to see if they were registered for Kindergarten yet and took notes.<br />
<br />
It was not a fight. It was a discussion. It laid the ground work for our team for next year.<br />
<br />
And I have hope and less anxiety about it. At least for now.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://justanotherautismblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/reunting-and-it-feels-so-good.html" target="_blank"><b>BENEFIT SHOW</b></a><br />
<br />
Jonathan and I leave for Cleveland in a few weeks for the <a href="http://justanotherautismblog.blogspot.com/2013/02/reunting-and-it-feels-so-good.html" target="_blank">big benefit show</a> . <br />
And it has not only become a band reunion, but a FAMILY reunion.<br />
My brother is coming from Nebraska.<br />
My Aunt and cousins are coming from California.<br />
My cousins are coming from Maryland.<br />
Close friends are coming from Columbus, Wisconsin and Massachusetts.<br />
<br />
There has been an unbelievable amount of support and excitement about this show. And I am just floored, touched and a little overwhelmed. <br />
<br />
So I'm prepping now for the trip, even though it is a few weeks away. I made my packing list, schedule the car to be checked, and am outlining Jonathan's book.<br />
<br />Cleveland or Bust! I can't wait!!!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fsLY7J7R4-c/UTynh-JfNLI/AAAAAAAAAP0/lVKBZtn2FG8/s1600/mike+and+nu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fsLY7J7R4-c/UTynh-JfNLI/AAAAAAAAAP0/lVKBZtn2FG8/s320/mike+and+nu.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Boys help me practice. Farley Family Jam!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>GENERAL PLAY TIME</b><br />
So my buddy has been playing really well recently. He is interested in Candyland (even though he cheats), Chutes and Ladders and Uno. At school, we got a picture sent by the teacher of him building a car ramp with a friend. And it was reported that they played together like that for 20 minutes. I guess Jonathan had a hard time initiating the play, but the peer asked him, "Do you want to play with me?" To which Jonathan replied, "Yes!" <br />
<br />
Amazing.<br />
<br />
Jonathan has also been going to a social skills class once a week with other kids on the Spectrum. He has been pretty quiet the previous few weeks, but this last week he was calling the other kids by their first name and saying the scripted sentences that he leaned, "I had a fun time with you playing ball!" <br />
<br />
Amazing.<br />
<br />
He continues to communicate with Mike and I more and more about what he is thinking. Even if it comes out as small, three word sentences.<br />
"No wash hair." <br />
"I go too?"<br />
"It's Friday! Last day of school!" - yes... my five year old has discovered the wonders of the weekend.<br />
<br />
And he has been reading, reading, reading! <br />
<br />
My boy. He amazes me!<br />
<br />
<br />
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-51800526016485570262013-02-17T07:45:00.001-08:002013-02-17T07:45:48.220-08:00Reunting and it Feels So Good!Once upon a time...ok, more like 12 years ago, I was a singer in a rock and roll band.<br />
<br />
Ahh my twenties! Weekends of gigging. Performing the 10pm to 2am shift at local bars with my best friends. Of course back then I was always tired, often grumpy, and really had no clue how wonderful that time was.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to today. Being a working Mommy for a special needs kid, working hard at being a good wife, and still trying to maintain a self-identity...I am more exhausted now then back then. Biggest difference: I know and appreciate how wonderful it all is.<br />
<br />
So when the idea of having a band reunion came up, I thought, why not?!<br />
<br />
One of the other band members has a son who is also on the Spectrum. And because this show would be more about fun and reuniting, the idea of turning it into a fundraiser seemed to make the most sense.<br />
<br />
Now, I have not performed AT ALL since maybe 2006...pre-Jonathan. So I have some work ahead of me. But have missed singing, more the I really realized. And now, I feel like I'm singing for a reason.<br />
<a href="http://www.houseofblues.com/tickets/eventdetail.asp?eventid=79338&live=1" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<b><a href="http://www.houseofblues.com/tickets/eventdetail.asp?eventid=79338&live=1" target="_blank">March 30th at the House of Blue in Cleveland, OH. A fundraiser for Autism Speaks. </a></b><br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://fundraise.autismspeaks.org/Markslist/campaign/display/profile.do?campaignId=1755" target="_blank">Click HERE for our Fundraising page.</a></b><br />
<br />I will be singing with my son in my mind and heart. He inspires me so much. It feels amazing to be working towards something so positive and with purpose and passion.<br />
<br />
Feel free to donate towards the event, if you are so inclined. The<a href="http://fundraise.autismspeaks.org/Markslist/campaign/display/profile.do?campaignId=1755" target="_blank"> fundraising page</a> is for those that would not be able to make it to the show, or for those that purchase tickets, but want to donate more. All ticket sales will go to Autism Speaks as well.<br />
<br />
Life is good. <br />
<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-74204197104473023762013-01-20T08:20:00.000-08:002013-01-20T08:20:23.385-08:00More Mommy AppreciationIt's been a while since my wife, Jonathan's mom, went on a business trip or girl's weekend. This weekend she is, and she's running a half-marathon in sunny Phoenix, Arizona while Jon Jon and I are curled up in our warm house while the temps hover around 10 degrees with plans to dip below zero in the next few days. <br />
<br />
This is also one of those times when I realize just how much Jen does for Jonathan, and how much she does around here. And we both appreciate her more than we can usually say. <br />
<br />
It also says a lot that of all the books Jonathan has, the ones he wants read to him at night the most are the social stories about our family, and specifically about times like this to help him understand that Mommy isn't going to be home every day--that life includes business trips and other events that throw routine out the window. And since most kids on the spectrum want structure and are anal retentive about that structure and routine, it's doubly difficult to guide them through the adjustments. Those books are comforting to him and I'm glad Jen takes the time to put them together.<br />
<br />
She also quarterbacks a rigorous morning and nighttime routine that requires a several-page manual, right down to the scripted conversation we're supposed to have on the way to school. <br />
<br />
I will say it's nice to have some one on one time with Jonathan, and I think the older he gets, the more he appreciates that time together. <br />
<br />
So today is a day of appreciation for Mommy, as she is running that half-marathon right now. We are sending vibes of love and good luck, and we also are looking forward to appreciating her in person tomorrow night. Madison G-manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16352245814630233919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-45496131899075147672013-01-02T12:27:00.001-08:002013-01-02T12:27:22.707-08:00Happy 2013!!<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My husband writes a newsletter for his business every month. The latest one included a cute story about Jonathan with a thoughtful message attached. I wanted to share. He says...</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">"Happy New
Year everyone, and welcome to 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes we learn things from our kids, and sometimes they do things
that inadvertently send us subliminal or not-so-subliminal messages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently our five-year-old son, who has
autism, has become obsessed with digital clocks, and in particular with trying
to literally turn back time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The clock may
change from 9:31 to 9:32, and he will say “thirty-one!” and change it back to
9:31.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This sometimes will go on for a
while, off and on, and as a result I may walk into our bedroom, and the clock
may tell me it’s 10:15 even though it’s really 11:20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">We all joke
about wanting to turn back time, and on how time flies, blah blah blah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we also accept that we cannot stop time
from whizzing by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What our son taught me
is that while that may be true, it doesn’t mean we can’t try, or throw a Hail
Mary every once in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Breaking the
rules or trying to bend them or somehow trying to alter what we typically accept
as set in stone is usually futile, but may someday be exhilarating if we keep
at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Where am I
going with this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My son’s message to me,
though probably not intentional, is that anything is possible—you just have to
try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is nothing wrong with asking,
“What if?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(and nothing wrong with
having an extremely active imagination, either).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s also how some of the greatest music
has been created.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> "</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Happy New Year all!!! Looking forward to a year of growth, celebration and being present in the moment. </span></span></span></div>
jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5297511903126371707.post-11232044782124234452012-12-23T15:23:00.000-08:002012-12-23T15:23:01.466-08:00Autism ShinesThere is nothing like turning a negative into a positive. To embrace a challenge and making it into something empowering.<br />
<br />
That is what happens when you put Autism parents' backs against the wall.<br />
<br />
There has been some, should we say, negative and uneducated press about Autism and Aspergers in relation to the tragedy at Sandy Hook....a correlation that has no merit, I should add. People were looking for ONE thing to blame...Autism came up as one of those one things (along with many many other things). <br />
<br />
So....here comes Autism parent bloggers!<br />
<br />
An amazing network of parents started a Facebook site, based off a meme one of the other parents created. It is called <a href="http://www.facebook.com/AutismShines" target="_blank">Autism Shines.</a> And I have to say, already in a few short days it has become MORE than just a response to negativity.<br />
<br />
There are so many kids like my kid. So many varied interests. So many ages, races, level on the spectrum. But we're all there....all swimming in this sea...and for me, I don't feel so alone. <br />
<br />
I added my son's picture with a little info about him. And really, it is only just a little info. He is so much more to me. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pqjR6prbX6Q/UNeRJnHqPeI/AAAAAAAAAPc/I10w4MKsE1s/s1600/Autism+Shines.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pqjR6prbX6Q/UNeRJnHqPeI/AAAAAAAAAPc/I10w4MKsE1s/s320/Autism+Shines.JPG" width="299" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
When you have a moment, check out the site. Throw it a like. And see that Autism can be scary, but also can make the world shine. <br />
<br />
<br />jfarlshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00905898031313370371noreply@blogger.com0