BCBS

Do you have a referral from your doctor?
I don't need a referral with my program.
Oh, but you do.
Like a referral off of his notepad?
No. It is a special referral form that BCBS needs that is filled out by your doctor stating that they are referring you to an out of network doctor.
No one has mentioned this to me before and I have been calling customer service for over a year now about this particular doctor.
Did you read your handbook?
I asked before for BCBS to send me any information that they found would be helpful to me concerning my circumstances and they said that there wasn't any.
Well, we can still get the referral written.
What will it do?
It will cover 90% of your costs to this out of network provider.
90%??????!!!!!!!
90% of the $10,000 we have already spent???!!!!!
Well.....not exactly.
Huh?
It would start from the day that the referral is written and can not be retro active.
I almost threw up.

God help the next person who says this to me...

I'm calling to see what services you offer for children with ASD?
That depends on what they need.
OK.....
What do you typically offer?
What does your child need?
Okaaaay........(Do I Insert the magic word here?)
What services do parents who have a child under the age of five with ASD typically receive through your program?
It depends on what they need.
What about_________?
No.
What about________?
No.
Alright.....(MUST guess better)
What about________?
No.
What about________?
No.
What about________?
No.
You do help children with ASD..right?
It depends on what services your child needs.
I see that you do intakes. Can I bring my child in for an intake and discuss possible services then?
Yes.
(Huh. I gotta "yes".)
We have this date open.
That sounds good..
But, we'll have to call you to see if she will be in that day.
Huh?
Your scheduling an appointment on a day that you do not know is actually available?
She'll call you in a few weeks to confirm.
Really?A couple weeks?

Yah...
Huh..
Okaaay....
I'll have to call back later.

Gotta love those agencies that claim to help children with their clever use of double talk and underlying tone of we really don't care.

Flip, Flop, Flip, Flop, Flip, Flop

I know summer is almost over and you would

even be pressed to find one, dirty, lone, sad flip flop at Target,

However.......

in our household, this is a momentous occasion!

Gabe has mastered the art of flipping and flopping! The click and clack of this strange beach attire. He can maneuver without shuffling, snap it against his heel, and even travel two houses over from ours for a birthday party.

I was beaming with pride today. No more nice leather (Are they? Or is pleather?)sandals getting ruined by wet sand and lake stink. Here we come flipping and flopping as a family. To conquer the beach without sacrificing good foot wear!

There was only one incident at the birthday party, well two, but one was not a big deal the other was kinda funny.

The first is Gabe trying to connect with other children (Not a big deal, just one we are working on). While sitting at a small kids size picnic table, Gabe pulled up his shirt and moved next to the boy his age, saying in a high pitched voice..."Tiggga..Tigga.." ,which translated without the excitement was "Tickle, Tickle". The boy Gabe's age turned, looked briefly at him and I swear I saw him murmur to himself," There's no place like home....there's no place like home." Personal space is sometimes an issue with Gabe.

After the swimming in the baby pools, running through the slip and slide and having a blast, it was time to wrap it up and go in and open presents.

BUT, Gabe would not get dressed. I totally understood his need to want to stay outside, I mean, who really wants to watch someone else open up gifts of cool toys that you can't even play with? But, since Gabe's school is on vacation and he is home more, I have been extra vigilant at following through. Without his normal schedule, he has been testing boundaries. So, I said that he had to get dressed or we would go home.

Still no clothes on.

I let the moms there know that Boo was staying and I would pick her up soon, but Gabe would have to go home. The moms nodded with understanding and a look of May the God of dressed children be with you and I picked up Gabe and began the walk towards our house when I hear....

"(Boo) SAVE ME!"

"HELP ME (Boo)!"

"SAVE ME!" Gabe is shouting as if I am taking him to the guillotine and Boo is the only person who can pardon him from this terrible fate.

Incredible. This is actually a game we play with the kids where we pretend to "capture" Boo and Gabe and one of them has to save the other. Let's just take this moment and applaud Gabe's remarkable skills for generalizing what he learns.

Needless to say, while sitting on the front porch steps, Gabe gets dressed and we return to the party where he gets to hit his first Pinata.

Another amazing day.

The New Fall Fashion

"PRETTY-FUL PINK!" says Gabe.

In his PJ hand-me-down pants from Boo.

Does anyone else hear "We Are The Champions" in the background?

Being Gabe's Big Sister

At the playground today, Boo was surrounded yet again by a new fan club. She is such a social butterfly. I asked her once if she had ever played with anyone she didn't like, she responded with, "I like everybody Mommy." She has the purest soul I know. I wish someone like her had been around when I was growing up. She would've been the friend I had always wished for.

As the group of four began planning who was going to be the baby dog, momma dog etc., Gabe spots Boo with her friends and starts on foot in her direction.
"Hi (Boo)!" he waves then sits with the group.
I hover near, but out of sight. I want to see him in a true social setting unaffected by my intervening.
"Hey!" the oldest girl shouts,"This is only for girls!"
Then Gabe smiles at her.
"Ok," she melts a little," maybe he can be the daddy dog."
Then she approaches him. I wonder how this is going to pan out. Will he "hear" her or tune her out as someone that is not typically in his frequency.
"Hey! she walks up beside him. "You can be the Daddy dog."
No response. She's right there next to him. Gabe has his face situated next her and to the pipe that you speak into,echoing out somewhere else in the playground.
Say something Gabe!

"YOU CAN BE THE DADDY DOG!" She shouts.

Still nothing.
My stomach turns.
I put on my cape and fly in from nowhere.
"Hey Gabe! She wants to know if you want to be a daddy dog?" I turn him to face her.
Nothing. Then he smiles and runs away.
"I guess not, maybe later," I laugh.
The girls shrug it off and so do I. Practice..that's what it is all about...

About an hour later, the girls have themselves playing dog again under the slides and Gabe decides to run over and say "Hello" to Boo.
"It's daddy dog!" the leader of the group declares. Ready to include him, Gabe turns and walks away after his greeting.
"That's my brother," Boo says.
"That's your brother?" the leader questions.
"Yeah. He doesn't understand," Boo explains.

He doesn't understand. My heart sank. What did Boo mean by that? Does she know? Can she tell? Is it all making sense to her now? The long meetings, Gabe's school, all the speech therapy, not answering all the time?

Before SD put Boo to bed tonight, I asked her for a hug as we watched Gabe's speech tape. Every week I watch two 30 minute taped sessions of Gabe at speech with Dr. Karen. I told her about how Dr. Karen helps Gabe learn to talk.
"Look Boo, Gabe doesn't get the ball [to the toy] until he uses his words to ask for it ."
"Now he is practicing saying long words," I smile so proud of him.
"Co...co..nut" I practice with Gabe on the tape.
"You say it," I encourage her.
"Co..co..nut!" she pronounces perfectly.
"Good job!"

The tape starts to come to a close and I turn to Boo.
"Boo," I pause and I pause again. I can't seem to find the words. They have escaped me. I take a deep breath and begin.
"Boo, do you notice anything different about Gabe?"
"No." she replies sincerely looking up at me.
Should I push it? My heart starts to race. Should I just let her continue believing and treating Gabe as though there isn't any difference between them. That all three year olds squeak instead of talking sometimes?
It's what I want...Isn't it?

"Really?" It stumbles right out of my mouth.
"You don't notice any differences between you and Gabe?"
"Well......" she pauses and looks down.
She knows.
She's been hiding it.
How could I have not seen it?

"Well....," she continues, "I know that Gabe is a boy and I am a girl."

What?

"That's true Boo. Gabe is a boy and you're a girl." I hug her and leave it at that.

Holy Language Explosion Batman!

"Daddy's going to put batteries in your toy Gabe."
"What are you doing?" GABE asked.

"I hear an airplane!" GABE said.

While putting Aquaphor on Gabe's face before bed, due to an outbreak of excema, I heard the following...
"In bed Mommy."
"Read Thomas!"
"Get in bed"
"OK, all done," I say. "Let's get in bed."
"In bed, read Thomas!"

Leaving the room after getting the low battery window from my lap top I hear...

"Where are you going Mommy?"

Gabe was bouncing on SD's lap pretty agressively, so SD pretended to cry and we hear....

"Daddy, you OK? You need a hug?"

"(Boo), have a pig?" Gabe asked when wanting to play with one of her plastic pig figures.

"Daddy, excuse me, I have Poo Poo." And he did!!!!

Incredible. What's happening? Why is all this glorious and spectacular language happening now? Is it the weather? Age? All the practice and therapy?

All I can say is........ WHO CARES!!!!!...... I LOVE IT!!!!!

For those of you new to this blog, Gabe was completely nonverbal, noncommunicative just over a year ago. There wasn't some miracle cure, just hard work, a great speech therapist, and many ABA therapists that are wonderful. Amazing....

HOORAY for GABE!

I keep thinking he must feel like shouting..."They finally GET what I am saying!"

We do. We really do :o)

The magnificent bubble

Driving to school this morning, about 5 miles away, Gabe declares, "See bubbles!"
I look out the window and see trees whiz by, blurred along with an occasional car driving faster. What could he be seeing?
"Bubbles?" I ask. "Where? I don't see them."
"Bubbles in car!"Gabe answers excitedly.
"Really?" "Huh." Still not seeing it. We have had a lot of that with Gabe lately. I figure we are missing about 50% of his language, because the words have become clues, encrypted by another program we are not familiar with. SD catches more of what Gabe is saying than I do. It's a gift I believe.
Seeing that I am struggling with his request, Gabe decides to expand, "Blow bubbles mommy!"
"Oh!" I look back and he is smacking his lips together, imitating me chewing my gum.
"Do you want me to blow bubbles with my gum?" I turn and smile at him in the back seat.
"Yes!" he agrees doing the happy butt dance.
So the bubble blowing began. Bubble after bubble we laughed. We chuckled at the ones that found solace in sticking to my lips and cheeks. Wowed in amazement at the bubbles that wanted to grow until they were stretched so thin, you wondered if the gum would just simply disappear. I blew and blew, loving every second I was having with him, connecting, bonding, embracing the wonder.

Finally

We're back and we are exhausted! What a weekend. It was filled to the brim with fun, fun and more fun! There was now a cool slide for the pool and the two completely exhausted themselves on it. I think this picture was taken the night after the many hours of swimming that day. Can you see the Cars from the BK kids meals? Gabe loves them. I may have to Ebay for the rest of the crew. The fish pillow next to him is one of those pillows that are really soft and squishy. It was his favorite present this year for his birthday. I found that he really liked them after he kidnapped SD's mom's pillow that she used for long car rides. He couldn't help but snuggle with it. Gabe has slept with this fish every night.



This is the slide with beautiful Boo ready to take the plunge. Amazing huh? Grandparents really get the whole fun thing. Sometimes so much, that our kids do not want to go home with us when it is time to leave. Who would blame them? Boo is trying to convince us that we need a pool like grandma and grandpa. Our backyard slopes way down into the woods. We've tried to explain that you need a flat area for a pool and most importantly, no flesh eating mosquitoes. This obstacle did not waiver our determined daughter, because she said, "How about the front yard?"
"That would be interesting," I replied.
I guess if the neighbor can park his Trans Am in his front yard, why not? Now how to explain to Boo that pools do not come in pink?

This past weekend, I attended my first WrightsLaw Conference in Kentucky. It took about two hours from SD's parent's house to get there, starting my day at 5:15AM. Yaaawn. I found Peter Wright very engaging. I also liked that he was a lawyer and presented his seminar that way. Some parents, including myself, tend to try to see the facts through the emotion. Thus, making our perception of things skewed. Peter Wright lays it all out there, by fact only. What works and what doesn't. It's really not about who's right (Do you want to win the fight, but lose the battle?), but how to get your child what he/she needs based on indisputable facts and proof. He has no time for I'm right, you're wrong. That won't get your child what they need and could damage the relationship between you and the school.


Here is an example...
I met Mr. Wright after the conference ended. I had only one question that I needed answered. I had, after more than a year, gotten it down to one pet peeve about the district.
I asked, "Can the school district choose to disagree with 7 reputable doctors' diagnosis of Autistic Spectrum Disorder for my son?"
He replied," Is he getting services?"
"Yes, but.....His diagnosis guides his services. Being Autistic is the reason his speech and social abilities are affected." At my core I believed this to be true.
"Listen," he responded in a very matter a fact way. The lawyer had come to surface. "It's not about the label. You can fight and fight them on this, but is it really about the label?"
"Doesn't the label drive the services?" I said wavering.
"No. YOU do. You provide the information and reasons for the services he needs. A label doesn't get you what you need. Facts, proof and understanding about your son is what will guide the process."
"Oh, " I replied sheepishly, "Thanks for your help."
I walked away.
I walked away relieved. Relieved that I could leave this battle with Autism and focus on my son. He is much more than a label. I happily dropped my war plan against our district in the trash on the way out.
Relieved.
Finally.
It's amazing how one person can change your mindset.
I feel am getting closer to understanding what an IEP is really about.

Things To Consider for Fuzzy Footed Travelers

Upon viewing The Lord Of The Ring Trilogy for the 6th time , SD and I feel the need to remark on the following...



1. When traveling to Mount Doom, remember chapstick and apply often

2. Elven women do not look good when possessed by the ring.

3. Doomback Mountain, the untold story of Frodo and Sam

4. Pip and Merry remind me of the two people at the party that never left the Keg

5. Rivendell puts Boo's Barbie dream house to shame

6. The Mouth of Saruman had some serious periodontal disease

7. Sauron does resemble a certain part of the female anatomy

8. Oh, what an ending! Oh, it's ending now...now? There are four endings to this trilogy. By the time it finally did end, I was disappointed, because it seemed like it was never going to end.

9. How could Denethor not love his son, Faramir? He was smokin! (Obviously, not one SD wanted to point out and we do know about him being under Sauron's power)

10. Frodo's Orc armor made him look like Gonzo from the Muppets

11. Where is my huge eagle and butterfly friend when I need to get away?

12. Horn blowing = good, loud drumming =bad

13. Bring marshmallows when lighting signal fires

14. Gollum would not fair well as a Chippendale

And Finally...

I love my wedding ring, but when I hold it, I , unfortunately, am not blessed with the orgasmic look that Frodo gets when he holds his ring.

What's a perfect fit?

I used to believe that Old Navy perfect fit T-shirts were my perfect fit. Each one looked good with any short, pant or even casual skirt I picked out that day. How wonderful it was to go to a store knowing they had what I needed. No rack scavenging, dressing room drama or sad shuffling feet leaving the store empty handed. They fit me and I fit them.

Our preschool search still continues. I keep asking myself, "What is Gabe's perfect fit?
Does the program offer enough social interactions with other peers? Is part of that time guided by a teacher? How do they handle transitions? The list for perfect goes on and on. Where do I draw the line? What do I sacrifice from that list. Some things are obviously really important, such as having the necessary black T-shirt in your closet, while others I can substitute or even go without for a season. But, which ones do I chose? What if what I choose happens to not be in fashion that season? What if I am pushed off the runway? What if the decisions I make for Gabe affect his progress? Like gawkers watching in horror at my ineptness to dress myself.

I know about One day at a time or Let go and let God. Easy to meditate on such words when time is not a factor. Spots are being filled, evaluations are being conducted and our options are narrowing. If I didn't know better, I would say that even Old Navy is slowly taking the blessed short sleeve shirts to the back and replacing them with the thin, easy to see tummy rolls, I love Spain T-shirts. No one my stature wants to be seen in those.

I do know that it takes time to get used to new clothes, new ideas, new places. I just hope that Gabe's closet will be full of great opportunities, learning experiences and love.

It's happened!!!!

I'M OVER A THOUSAND!!!!!!

1011 people took the time to look at my profile!!!
Now if that isn't a good reason to celebrate with ice cream I do not know what is :o)

Now if only I could reach #1 in the stats in our ring, SD will get a big steak dinner and I will enjoy some King Crab. I think he will be waiting a Loooooooong time! lol There are some big shoes to fill that far up the stats.

Definition of an addict

So, I am still amazed at our society's obsession with the peanut and the butter that is made from it. It reminds me of an addict and nicotine. Kinda scary...at least I think so. What's scary is that my thinking seems to be in the minority. All I'm asking for is 7 hours out of a school day to be peanut free. That leaves 17 hours of peanut eating time all to yourselves.
Death.... peanut butter (hands weighing)......Death?..... peanut butter?...DEATH?...peanut butter?.
I think I could consider that a challenge in life.
A peanut allergy is considered a disability under the Americans with Disabilties Act.

All right. I'm finally letting it go.....

I just can't do it..I can't and I won't

Gabe's not going to our public school.
Period.
At least not now. Not today or this year.
I can't fight the fight.
Not while my child is left in the arms of the ignorant and
uneducated, overworked and uncaring staff at the public school he would attend.
I can't be "the one" to make a change in our district.
It is a title too weighted by circumstance, timing and dumb luck.
Not at my child's expense.
Kindergarten will be the year that we approach our district again.
I will be much wiser.
Gabe will officially be in his "home school" and the team of people we will be working with will be different.
New school, new teacher, new speech, new OT, new PT. If we're lucky, new director of special education (early retirement, job change???)
Just different.
A smudged, yet cleared slate for our district and us to try again.
We just have devoted the last year unequivocally to Gabe.
I can not and will not enable their "program" to create an atmosphere for regression.
Sleepless nights that lead into pavement pounding days have provided new light and possibilities outside of our district for preschool.
My anxiety seems to be lifting.
We still have to notify our district of our decision and get our ducks in a row at his new school.
The cost is only a little more than a regular preschool.
We have decided to continue ABA therapy at home mostly by me and an occasional therapist.
We also decided to pull him from the current ABA school after this semester ends.
It is just too difficult to make the best decisions for Gabe while you are under someone's thumb (SD's parent's have felt more comfortable with sharing their, not so positive and often argumentative,opinions about our choices for Gabe).
Just some paperwork paired with fresh ideas and our outlook and future for Gabe seems brighter.
The day that he goes to his new preschool now brings images of standing by the planter outside for his first day of school picture, lunchbox in hand and a smile on my face.

How hard it is to let go of anger...

I had a difficult time letting go of my anger yesterday. I rolled over in bed last night while SD and I were reading and asked, "Do you think I need anger management counseling?"
"No," he laughs.
I smiled, somewhat relieved.
But then, how am I always in these kind of situations?
Am I letting myself be a victim?
To poorly quote Dr. Phil, "What are you getting out of acting like a victim, because you always seem to be one?"
Am I, that is, a self appointed victim?
I need to let more roll off my back.
It's hard when comments are made about or against your child's circumstances.
I just stand there and let the words smack against my face.
The bruises turn a deep purple the following day and the anger festers, twisting in my stomach and my mind can't stop obsessing.

"Should I email her? Let her know that what she said really hurt me? And Boo?
I look at SD. I'm already forming the letter in my mind.
"No, I don't think that would be a good idea." He sees my angst. I know he just wants to help me get past this.
"Do you want me to rub your back?" It'll help get your mind off things."
"Ok. Thanks," I sigh trying to relax.

As I lay there I imagine our Christmas tree lined with stuffed animals around the bottom, presents stacked with shiny bows, gingerbread houses overflowing with freshly licked candy and the smiles on my children's faces as they wonder what Santa will bring this year.

That is my version of anger management.

Autism isn't the only misunderstood challenge in life

Now, I normally post just once a day. Purge right before bed, leaving my mind clear.
And I did that today, earlier, and my mind was free to enjoy the evening walk with SD and the kids. We admired the large powder puff clouds mingling around the vivid blue sky. Breath taking. Thank you God for another beautiful day.

Midway through our walk, I see someone that I have attempted to meet more than once, only to have short, abbreviated conversations with. She is on the committee of our Moms Club chapter, a real go getter. Gotta love those people, I relish their energy and enthusiasm. I couldn't wait any longer to spark up more than a few minute conversation. It had been 6 months of waving to each other as I drove by her house everyday, Gabe asleep in the car after school, unable to stop and chat. Here was my chance. She was outside with her little girl and husband. We talked about our garage sale we had this past weekend (It went well, thanks for asking :o) and some of the outfits of Boo that had been passed on to another cutie, her daughter. The conversation felt good, easy, flowed nicely. On to school in the fall, where are our kids going. I mentioned that Boo would not be attending the public school in our neighborhood, but another one a few miles away. She went on to say that we probably saved ourselves a lot of hassle, that most people will not be going to our neighborhood school. Our elementary school is a Blue Ribbon school and is rated very highly in Michigan.

"Really?" I was surprised.
"Yeah," she rolls her eyes, "Peanuts are not allowed in school anymore."

SD and I have always talked about inventing a machine that could instantly beam you anywhere, similar to Star Trek. This was a time that it really would have come in handy. Either she would have to go or I.

"Your kids have peanut allergies, right?" She waved her hand towards them.
I stood there stunned by her blatant ignorance.
"Well, anyway," she continues, ignoring the look on my face, "Why should 500 students suffer for one child?"
"What if my kids eat peanut butter in the morning? We eat peanut butter all the time, then what are we supposed to do?"
"It's airborne too, the allergy that is.....Why should we have to change." She ended with total conviction.

I could only say this without ripping her head off, "Wow, I feel for that mom."



This woman is on a committee for a MOM's club. And she ranted in front of my daughter who is four and anaphylactic to peanuts. She fell (Actually kicked with great force) right off my People That Matter In The World list.

Here's my two cents on peanut butter consumption and children...

1. If you believe that peanut butter is such an important part of your child's diet, you need to see a nutrionist.

2. A child spends , on average, 7 hours in school a day. That leaves 17 hours outside of school to totally glutton themselves of peanut butter. Let's even give them 8 hours of rest each night, it still leaves a child 9 hours to eat as much peanut butter outside of school that they want.

3. If you think that eating peanut butter is more important than saving a child's life well....Your morals are in disarray!!!!!

4. This is a great opportunity to teach your children about compassion, adaptability and being a responsible person in the community.

5. And last, but most importantly, you will kill my child if she is near peanut butter.

Shouldn't that be enough? You'd think.

I had to then spend part of our special time before bed with Boo trying to explain why (the mean bitchy woman) the lady we talked to was talking about peanuts so much and why she was so angry. I hated telling her that some people do not understand how important it is that she not be by ANY peanuts. Some people do not get it, and she, sadly, was one of them. Her look was a look of rejection. Like she had been rejected. Oh I wanted to go over to that woman's house and rip her head off and shove peanut butter down it.

Would that be enough? Enough for me to let go of this hurt and anger? You'd think.

Options

When we first suspected Gabe was Autistic, we consulted a special education teacher through my husband's school district that he works in. She was incredible and taught in a wonderful special education preschool program. She was only the first of many that would see and diagnose Gabe with having Autism.


During our meeting, we discussed some things that lead me to believe Gabe could be Autistic. After taking it all in, she began to play with Gabe. He was pretty easy to engage and they both looked like they were having fun. She also explained Floortime and gave me materials that described how to incorporate and utilize it through play. She agreed that he was probably on the spectrum, but he also had a lot going for him, especially in the social department. This teacher was the first person to hint that there was a bright future, or any future for that matter, for Gabe. When our meeting ended, she offered to show us one of their preschool special ed classrooms. It was the first time I saw a PECS schedule.

Then I thought yesterday, almost 1 1/2 years later, why couldn't Gabe go to the school with the amazing teacher we met? They have an open school policy in SD's district. But, does it pertain to special education students? How would picking up and droping off Boo work when she was on the other side of our county about 35-45 minutes away? Could this be the answer I needed? Could this be a possible solution? Or am I just postponing the inevitable of Gabe returning to our district?

SD is going to look into it this coming week. I need to know that we have choices. I hate feeling as if I'm stuck. Stuck in something I can't get out of. Having options just makes the sky seem a little clearer.

All the colors are brown

Only a month left and thoughts of Gabe in our public school system create twists and turns in my stomach. It is in the dark corners, waiting, just waiting to take my child and do with him whatever pleases them. At least that's how I feel. What's baffles me still, is that it didn't start that way. I was way too trusting in the beginning. I handed over my beautiful boy with hopes that they would help me, that the public school system would see Gabe as the amazing and wonderful child that he is. I gave document after document, files and files about him, trying to help in anyway I could. I just wanted to make things as easy for them and Gabe. You know where those files are? All those confidential and extremely personal files ? They have been thrown in a folder that is also filed away, never read, never used to help Gabe.


My husband says we need to keep the communication open between the school and ourselves, that it will benefit everyone, especially Gabe, if we work with the system.
THE SYSTEM SCREWED ME AND GABE!

BUT, ......I know he's right.

I just don't know if I can do this.

What if the teacher is mean to Gabe? (Oh, he's the boy with the aggressive and persistent mother..... He's soooooo special. I can't help your child, because I have to help Gabe.....sneer)

I've never left Gabe with someone I didn't trust.
And I don't trust his teacher and I especially don't trust the public school system.

His first day of preschool is supposed to be a monumental occasion with pictures, smiles, tears and hugs. A switching of the guards. I feel like I will be instead throwing him off a cliff.
Today I have decided to hand it over to God for a few more weeks and then I will start researching alternatives. Although, I do not think that the schools around us have open enrollment.
I need a different picture to look at, because this one is too muddied.

Putting the Clues Together

-Increase in perseveration (especially with his voice)
-Pushing
-reacting more emotionally
-More babbling "Gabey Language"
-Inconsistency with Language (Four word sentences mixed with two word)


I think Gabe is noticing more of the world lately. I can see it in his eyes. He is seeing more than he ever has. He is more aware, more in tune. I wasn't sure what to think when his perseverations increased, but this morning it all came together....at the car wash of all places and over a sundae.

I must say that our car wash is pretty cool in our town. They have a huge waterfall and fountain that you drive around before entering. In the winter they have plastic life like penguins all over the rocks around the waterfall. Those same penguins have Santa hats around Christmas, pumpkins at Halloween...you get the picture. My kids love it! Gabe has started requesting that we have car washes every week. Sometimes we go, but mostly I say "maybe next week."


"This way," Points to the car wash.
"Do you think we should get a our car washed?" I ask.
"YES!!!!" He says with enthusiasm."Car wash!" "Yes!"
"Ok, today is a good day. Let's go!"
"Yeah!" Gabe claps from the back seat.



Today,we drove around the back, oohed and ahhed over the waterfall, handed over the money and begin our car wash journey. First, they sprayed our car with a very strong sprayer. "Look Gabe! They're getting all the dirt off. Our car will be so nice and shiny when we're done." I must admit, I get excited too. I love the look of shiny paint on cars.

Gabe has always looked a bit hesitant when going through the car wash. most of the time I hold his hand and explain what's happening as it happens.
"The sprayer gets all the soap off, like rain. See?"
It seems to ease and relax him. Today was another story.

I made a connection with Gabe today. A deep, profound connection. He was very tense, more than usual, as we went through the washing cycles, I held his hand and explained everything like I normally do, but his reaction to the change in noise, machines diving back and forth from the car made his body very rigid in his car seat. His eyes looked right at me with incredible intensity that left me breathless. He was looking at me like the boy in the snow had. I was seeing Gabe. A part of him that is so often masked by Autism.

His day went well, mastering quite a few more programs. Speech with Dr. Karen also went well, with Gabe working on "Who" questions. He understands "Where" and "What", "Who" seems to be taking a little longer. Before going back to his therapists room, we successfully sat on the potty (in a public place!) without any problems. It seemed almost commonplace. We are adding "after lunch" as a time to visit the potty now. Around 2:00 he fell asleep in the car, and after getting home, slept until 4:30.

Gabe hasn't been too interested in dinner lately, so we have implemented a few rules that also apply to Boo.

1. They Must finish their dinner in order to get "Special Treat" (small vanilla cup of ice cream, topped with sprinkles and two Swedish fish) Dinner portions are small, therefore making it pretty easy to attain the treat :O)

2. Appropriate dinner behavior (Varies due to age) Gabe mostly needs to sit in his chair, facing forward and help say Grace. Boo has to say grace, sit in chair appropriately, and be courteous.

Gabe made it through most of his dinner, but then started to vocally perseverate and turned around in his chair. We asked for him to turn around, a few times, and reminded him that he has to finish his dinner to get special treat. He refused to turn around, so we excused him from the table. He seemed OK with our decision, left the table and played. It wasn't until Boo finished, started doing the "Happy Ice Cream Dance", ice cream cup came out, sprinkles and Swedish Fish that Gabe came and sat at the table.

"Ice Cream Cone?" He was ready for dessert.

"No Gabe. You didn't finish your dinner. Maybe tomorrow after dinner." I said

Normally we would get a small whimper before Gabe admitted defeat to go play in the other room with his trains. Not today. Today was different. He broke out in tears, that rolled over his plump adorable cheeks and hands covering his eyes as he rested his elbows on the table. This wasn't your average repetitive whimper. This was a blown out, three year old, I'm going to die without ice cream cry.

And then it happened. Gabe raised his head up, rested his hands on the table and pleaded......

"PLEEEEEASE MOMMY" with such a look of torment. Huge tears with such desperation in his voice. He has never showed such a desire for something, especially not verbally.

It broke my heart, but I said no. Maybe tomorrow. He sat staring at Boo's desert towering with candy. I waited a minute or two to let it sink in and then asked him if he wanted a hug. When I picked him up, he squeezed me tightly between his legs, something he rarely does. I hugged him as he sniffled, kissed his forehead, and rubbed his head.

I hated being the one to deny ice cream of all things.

My little boy is beginning to really notice what is going around him. Not just physically, but emotionally. I hope it doesn't get too overwhelming for him.

Hellooo Mr. Potty!!! and....Goodbye....

I would like to say as I write this that I am creating the most interesting and thought provoking three-dimensional sculpture out of the remaining 30 diapers that we have left, but after three hours of Barney videos, Swedish Fish, Matchbox Cars and 5 pairs of Nemo underwear,I raised myself up from the bathroom floor, took Nemo, tossed him down into the dark depths of the basement, turned around and literally embraced the left over piles of diapers. FREEDOM!!!

Gabe has many of the "readiness signs", but two important ones. He does not tell you when he has to go/does not fully realize when he is going and he frequently urinates- very frequently. He does not know how to fully empty his bladder at one sitting. A child should be able to remain dry for an hour or two at a time. Gabe can go maybe 10 minutes. His ABA school had taken data about a month ago, which showed he urinated twice/sometimes three times an hour. I just thought, maybe, if we practiced his bladder would adjust. He's just not developmentally there. I could buy the whole alarm when you pee contraption, but I do not think we're at that point yet. I'm OK with the "let's wait and see what happens."
We did see many great "signs of readiness", he is able to sit for a few minutes to wait to go potty, he did not have any problems with a BM (in the toilet I might add :o), he enjoys the whole potty routine before and afterwards, the Nemo underwear was not an issue, and he seems to understand the whole purpose of the bathroom. What a wonderful discovery session we had today.

I feel good about trying to potty train Gabe. Now I know, we tried, he's not ready, we'll try later. We're thinking when he is 3 1/2 in November. We picked this new time, because it gives him time to adjust to all the changes that happen in the beginning of the new school year. It gives us time to adapt to how our public school system is going to fit into Gabe's life, SD going back to work and just juggling everyone's schedules for awhile.

I feel that we became an even closer family today. We pulled together, worked towards achieving a certain goal and then embraced each other when the plans changed. How awesome are we? :o)

The Checklist for Tomorrow

1. Nemo underwear (Check!)

2. Barney Videos (Check) Needed for the time waiting for pee or poo poo.

3. Timer (Check) (initially set for 20 minute increments)

4. Data sheet (Check)(keep track of prompting and independence)

5. Swedish Fish (Yum! and Check) Reinforcer for sitting on potty

6. Step stool (Check)(Proper foot support is very important in order for him to remain relaxed to go)

7. Picture Schedule of what to do in bathroom courtesy of Charmin Toilet Paper and their mascot,Bear (Check) Gabe knows all the steps already, but I thought the pictures would be a good reminder.

8. TV tray (Check) (Something to play /eat/drink on while we wait for something to happen-Please God let it happen!)

9. TV/VCR with small table(check) (To play the endless Barney videos)

10. New Brio trains(Check) (For the times he successfully pees or poops in the potty-crossing fingers)

11. Matchbox Cars (Check)(Ditto)

12. Suckers(Check) (Ditto) He gets to choose one thing from a large dish filled with suckers, matchbox cars and Brio trains for pee and poop only. (The stakes are high here people!) We also bought a matchbox car track to play with in between the time he goes and we are waiting the 20 minutes.

13. Veterinarian Barbie (Check)(For Boo for being such a great sister and cheerleader for Gabe)

LET THE POTTY TRAINING BEGIN!!!!!!!!!!

(Sound of horns blaring, crowd cheering, mother fainting)