April 5

LJ Smith’s Vampire Diaries in Production?

My love of horror started with teen dark fiction authors Christopher Pike and L.J. Smith. The latter has special meaning for me because I met a lot of online friends through an L.J. Smith fan board on AOL.

So I still reply with a fan girl gush when I see the books being re-issued in stores (even though I’m afraid to reread them and risk ruining my memories.)

Now it looks like there’s going to be a TV series.

Does anyone else remember Damon, Elena and Stefan?

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April 3

Autism & Me: Advocating for your child

Put simply, you have to. Like parenting, no one else can do it for you, and no one else can do it as well for your child as you.

Even if you have faith in your child’s teachers and the administration of the school you have to be involved, because you never know what it going on.

My son started school in August 2005. It was a huge transition, complicated by the fact that he wasn’t diagnosed yet, so the school had to legally treat him like every other kid, no ammenities. It was a struggle, in part because he had no clue how to do social school things (like ask to go to the bathroom. He would just drop his pants and walk toward the in room bathroom.) But he knew all his letters, shapes, colors and numbers and had started very basic reading and adding. He was ahead and behind at the same time. So he was equal parts frustrated and bored.

At the beginning of 2006 he was diagnosed and began getting badly needed support, like speech and outside of the class social lessons. He’s always done better one on one, so he began, in many ways, to catch up. More importantly, he began to see that school wasn’t us kicking him out of the house for eight hours a day. It was puzzling, challenging and fun.

Over the summer break something fantastic happened. He got bored. And being bored he started to want to go back to school, where there was always something to do. He was ready, we thought.

Except they put him in a class with a teacher who had no autism training, under a principal who thought he was a self punishing retard, a “school manager” who boasted that he didn’t have autism at all… and there were other problems. Things fell apart quickly. There were personel problems, communication problems, training problems…put simply everyone thought they knew better than me because they had training and I didn’t. A few thought they were going to “cure” my son and were bitterly disappointed to discover that they didn’t have a clue. The administration didn’t train or support the teacher, yet came down very hard on her for failing to control my son. The people who were supposed to be supporting him dismissed him as too much trouble, or a “retard” even to the point where we were once urged to give up on him, put in him a home “with other people like him” and get on with our lives.

His IEP (a lesson plan, which defines what ammenities a special needs child gets, which include things from a wheelchair to extra time for tests, to extra bathroom breaks or speech class) and BIP (Behavior Intervention Plan) were comepletely ignored.

I was not told until a month AFTER the problems began. Then the teacher began sending my son to the office, so they could experience hos behavior first hand. And the office, not giving a damn, sent him home. He came home early two to three times a week. And he learned that if he misbehaved (which degraded into violence) he would get sent home, he’s get to leave a situation that was incredibly stressful for him, people who he couldn’t communicate with, who yelled at him, and physically fought with him and overall made every day hell.

So guess what he did? Yeah, he hit, a lot. He kicked. He bit if those things failed. We had IEP meetings. We brainstormed. We tried new things. I was told they were trying new things, when in reality they just started putting him on the computer, or sending him to the class of people he liked to get him to shut up.

Then, one day they called an emergency IEP meeting. Those assholes got twelve–TWELVE–people to sit me down and go around the room one person at a time and tell me–only me–how horrible and uncontrollable my child was, and that they were sending him to another school. (and I also found out how badly they were treating him, and how they were ignoring the IEP because I wasn’t the autism expert. The autism expert, BTW, was too hung up on “don’t let him wear that lanyard (we used a lanyard with an id holder and a card in it to give him smilies for immediate rewards) because he can’t think that it’s okay for boys to wear necklaces” to offer anything actually useful.

Those days were real bad. They jerked me around on where he’d be going, among other things. One morning when I was getting him ready for school he broke down and begged me not to make him go. And I’d been sick to my stomach at the thought of looking at those people again, so it came as a relief. I don’t know who broke down worse, him or me, but it was bad. And part of it was my fault, because I had trusted them to do their jobs and I have believed them when they didn’t deserve it.

But you know what, moving schools was probably the best thing to happen to us.

In January 2006 he moved to a new school, one that is a third hearing impaired/deaf kids, so the whole school is familiar with handling special needs children. His teacher was way different. First he looked at my son as a challenge, someone who needed help, not someone taking up all his time who was useless and not capable anyway.

And over two years his new teacher might not have gotten him caught up to his grade level, but he did something far more important, he restored my son’s faith in teachers.

But this past fall be encountered problems again, that changed how we deal with those dealing with my son. After my trip to Context my son had two meltdowns, bad ones, in school. The administration once again brought up the idea of changing schools (thought this time is was much different). However, not only was the intention different, I was different. I was not opening myself up to another 12 person pile on, or anything that happened the first time around.

Seven Counties, a mental health advocacy and assistance group here in Louisville, offers case managers, that is a social worker whose job it is to come to your house every month and talk about what your family needs, how school and behavior, etc is going and more. I signed up after my son switched school and the first thing I did was call my case manager and tell him everything. He in turn did everything from talk with me, look up options, keepe me calm when I started panicking, remembering what happened last time. And he got us in touch with a behavoralist who went into the classroom and gave us a non-biased opinion of what my son needed, and was or wasn’t getting in the class.

The bad news was, again, his IEP and BIP. But this time the problem was that the methods the experts and professionals were telling us to use weren’t working with my son. But the teacher’s hands were tied because the system demanded certain things from him and those things were the behavioral equivilent of genre tropes. He has autism, use social stories (which never worked with my son). He has behavioral problems, give him a reward system (which was hard to impliment since his #1 reward isn’t candy or high fives or stickers, it’s a break from work.)

My son was also in a classroom mostly intended for mildly mentally retarded kids, that heavily depended on rote learning, repetition. Not to mention one teacher to ten kids, all of whom were prone to meltdowns, and the fact that my son was only a problem when you tried to get him to do work. Left to his own devices he was wonderfully behaved.

So again, he was suffering, not emotionally or mentally, but academically. And because I trusted the people dealing with him, I just let the situation go. (Still, I don’t think it was the teacher’s fault. His hands were tied and the system just wasn’t listening to him.)

We were presented options, and funnily enough, some things were kept from us. There were three people who where strongly pushing for him to move schools again. We were ready to fight it, tooth and nail, until someone finally told us that his school actually had the classification of class that they wanted to move him to, and not only was it next door to my son’s current (at that time) classroom, but he was already familiar with and working with the teacher.

The administration outright tried to push us into changing schools (where none of the people present would have to deal with my son) while his actual teachers sa quietly by, completely wrapped up in bullshit public school politics. They couldn’t help without threatening their jobs.

Which is why it’s our job to advocate for our children. Because other people literally cannot. You cannot depend on teachers, administrators ,etc to advocate for you because you do not know what they are told, or threatened with, when you aren’t looking.

I am pleased to say that I wrote up a list of demands, and my reasoning for them, and walked into that IEP meeting with my case manager, the behavioralist, and my husband all with me. We cut off every protest, every excuse, every “but” that they had. We gave them our demands and…They backed down. They stopped pushing. Like a submissive dog they completely changed how they were dealing with us.

I’m not kidding, they went from essentially telling us that we didnt know what was best for our child and were going to harm him by not moving him, to appologizing and making up excuses for their own behavior.

A month later I walked in to another meeting, with another list of demands. See, they (meanting those three “experts”, not the acutal teachers) resented the behaviorlist’s contibutions. In fact, they blocked him from visiting the class for a follow up, and tried to exclude him from the meetings. (I had to call him and invite him on my own to make sure he knew when the meeting was.) they refused to read his report. They repeatedly told me they didn’t need him, because they had their own autism expert (remember, another professional who is bound by the school system she worked for).

So I wrote down all the methods he had, in my own words, with language like “The teachers and staff will…” I demanded that some things that they were insisting on (like those social stories, which as it turned out they knew didn’t work and were pushing to “prove” my son couldn’t be where he was then) be abandoned and other things be instituted.

And they backed down on every single one and gave me exactly what I wanted. And now my son is doing fabulous. His first teacher at this school taught him to trust adults, and his current teacher has the training and respect to bring out the best in him. Next month instead of going to an IEP meeting I’ll be going to a plain old Parent-Teacher Conference. Nothing’s wrong, and I just want to keep it that way.

So to sum up, you have to advocate for your child because the administration often has only their work load in mind, and the teachers are limited to what they can do. The experts are also school employees, and are often looking for a one answer fits all solution, which is not how people work, and definitely not how autism works.

You have to go in, because a teacher asking for help gets none, but a parent going in and demanding it is the most fear creature in a school these days. So it’s our job not to be friends to the teachers, or understanding with the administration. We cannot just hand our children off to the shcool and hope for the best. It’s our jobs to make sure they get the best that they can. It’s our job to demand more from the school system, because left alone, we’ll never get it.

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April 1

Autism & Me: The Hardest Thing

Yesterday I talked about crashing, today let me just briefly talk about the hardest thing we’ve encountered in raising our autistic son.

He doesn’t look different.

You can tell when someone is blind, or an amputee, has Down’s Syndrome or MS or is in a wheelchair. But my son does not look abnormal.

In a way, this helps. He doesn’t encounter immediate discrimination.

But in a way it works against him. Imagine, if you will, that your child becomes more excitable/stressed any time he or she is in public, the more people, the more stress/excitement. Now, they also have oversensitivity to sound. You decide to go out to dinner at a buffet, because the kids love it and no one can decide on one thing to eat. Except the restaurant is packed. It’s loud it’s noisy, there’s at probably a hundred people all at tables in the same room…And even though your child wants to be there, has been there before and was excited when you arrived he/she is starting to have a problem behaving because there are just too many people and too much noise and your child cannot turn all that stimulation off. (This is another trademark of autism. Essentially they can’t “tune things out” like neutrotypical people can. This leads to amazing powers of observation and recollection of detail, but problems in a lot of other situations.)

They want to behave, but they just can’t because their whole world feels out of control and it’s sending their body and brain into panic mode. You try to talk, to reassure, but it’s not helping.

And the people around you begin to stare. They begin to look at you with sneers on their face. Maybe someone even butts in and tells you, “Control your kid!”

Now to hell with what other people think, but would they be as quick to complain if your child had some obvious disability? And that reaction puts more stress and you and on your child, who usually doesn’t want to misbehave.

This same principal affects how everyone deals with my son. An administrator at his first school outright told the teacher that he wasn’t really autistic, she was just handling him wrong. The same teacher had no autism training and (in my experience) seemed to think that with enough pushing he could be normal. When he had problems with school work she pushed harder. When he couldn’t do it, she assumed he was just misbehaving.

Because he doesn’t look different people always assume he is just misbehaving or being vindictive/mean rather than realizing that he may be just confused and frustrated.

For a long time we struggled to teach him that he was not a bad child. That his problems with using his words and understanding what other people wanted of him weren’t his fault. And that he could overcome them. Self esteem has been a huge issue for us.

I’m very happy that he has been building a good foundation of self confidence this past year. It means so very much to me. And remembering how he looked at me when he didn’t understand something, and had spent the day being told, maybe not with words, but with others’ reactions to him, that he was just stupid or not capable, or he was just being mean…well, that has been the hardest part.

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March 31

Autism & Me: My Son’s a Crasher

Think about that word for a moment. Crasher.

Those on the spectrum often have sensory issues. Some are oversensitive. (Actually, my son is oversensitive to loud sounds. The sensory stimulation of a movie theater, for example everything is dark except the hyper focus of the movie, which is larger than life, and sound, loud sound, is all around, vibrating the seats and the skin, can actually shut him down, like when a baby falls asleep from too much stimulation. This is why he often moves around while we’re watching a movie, going from lap to lap, or floor to lap.) Some are undersensitive, which can lead to some annoying or even dangerous behavior.

My son is a crasher, which means he’s undersensitive when it comes deep tissue stimulation. It means exactly what it sounds like, he “crashes”. Bouncing is a very common behavior. Hugs or squeezes often help him calm down and focus (which he can do by himself with the use of stress balls, playdough or those waterfilled donuts and tubes you can find in toy aisles).

But there are days (like today, which is last Thursday to you) when none of this seems to be enough. Days like today he walks down the hall slamming into the walls. Or he repeatedly flops onto the bed as hard as possible.

Over the years he’s become very good at knowing how hard to “crash” against what. But that doesn’t make it less alarming to people who don’t know, or, to be honest, less annoying on the days when it gets real bad. In the past, people have suggested that he was actually self punishing, or wounding himself with this behavior.

It could be worse (let the them “anal exploration” sink in for a moment.) But it is one of the larger challenges we’ve had to face over the last eight years.

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March 30

Autism & Me: Why I’m Not an Expert

April is Autism Awareness month, so since next week (this week by the time this is posting) is Spring Break I figured I’d start the month off early by writing a week of entries on autism.

Recently I was asked why I write SF/F/H when I could be writing about autism and help other people struggling with it. Well, there are three answers.

First, I’m not an expert on autism. I’m not a doctor, or a therapist, or a behavorialist. Some parents are inspired by their children to further their education and reach out to help other special needs kids. Currently that’s not feasible for me (though I do have ideas of what I want to do in the next 5-10 years if there’s no movement on my writing).

The only thing I am an expert on is my children. Yes, one of them is autistic, and that does give me some experience and certainly an opinion or two on the challenges that face people on the spectrum. But no matter how hard I try I can’t get into my son’s head, or into the heads of the other parents/people out there who deal with the challenge of autism.

Which brings me to point two, we are very lucky. My son is high functioning. He is determined (and stubborn). He scores above average in intelligence tests and he has yet to hit any sort of ceiling on his ability. He doesn’t suffer from any of the other problems that go hand in hand with autism, like muscular problems and OCD. We are very very lucky, and it would be irresponsible of me to think that our autism experince is typical and hold other people and other families to our standards.

In fact that sort of assumption is why Jenny McCarthy is somewhat disrespected by many in the autism community for the slant (as if autism has a simple cure, and further as if everyone has her income level behind them to care for their children) she approaches the issue from.

Finally, the lack of information and research with autism (what causes it, how to help) has risen to some really suspicious “medicine”. Chelation therapy (a detoxification that sometimes seems to help, until the drugs are no longer being taken, oh yes, and where the clinic most heavily pushing the therapy own the patent on the main drug used), GFSF diets (with really expensive foods, again most preached about by the people who stand to make money off it), distraction in the form of who to blame (vaccines? the government? genetics? the environment?). Many people become so wrapped up in blame and a cure that I feel that their children suffer.

What would it do to you if you grew up being told you were broken, but this drug, or this diet, or this research would “fix” you?

This is not something I want to contribute to. I don’t want to put another book on how to handle autism out there, draining families’ resources and causing more distraction and dissent.

My posts about autism are meant to be free. They are not a how to, they are a voice of support. You aren’t alone. There are lots of us out here, who aren’t experts or doctors or scientists. We’re just parents, siblings, caretakers and loved ones. You shouldn’t have to pay $19.95 to have me tell you, you’re not alone.