We participate in Light It Up Blue to celebrate our boy and all of the hard work he puts in every single day.
Autism will touch your life. You will interact with people on the spectrum in your community, your workplace, and in your children’s classrooms.
That is why we share our story. To help spread awareness, understanding, acceptance, inclusion and kindness so that everyone impacted by autism can find some more compassion and patience along their road.
Our hearts are FULL seeing all the photos roll in of you all in your BLUE!! Keep them coming, friends! You can text, post on social media or email them to email@example.com. We’re putting together a special little something for our guy.
We’re so thankful you are on this journey with us.
Some days, it feels like we are climbing onto the exact same merry-go-round that we were on yesterday, and the day before that and the one before that. The same music, same speed, same smells, and Wilson would undoubtedly choose the same horse to ride every single time. We continue, round and round, stuck on a loop.
Sounds peaceful, right? Until the song changes, an undesirable sound or image comes into the loop. Or the lights are too bright or too dim. Something familiar is missing, out of place or different than how we left it.
Experiencing these things can completely stop Wilson’s little world from turning.
Sometimes I see them coming, these are same battles we fight daily. Like keeping the lights all on or off (he does not tolerate anything in-between) or which clothes to wear or new food exposure. But there are always new ones, lurking and ready to cause chaos at any moment. Like the time the dog peed on the rug and Wilson lost his mind because the rug was missing.
It’s funny, how something so seemingly predictable as the daily routine in this autism life always finds a way of surprising us, throwing us off course, breaking us down or teaching us something new.
This is what autism does in our world every single day.
To recover from the chaos, Wilson finds a new loop. He seeks comfort in the reliable, the orderly, the routine.
Lining up, counting, reciting, and repetition.
Stimming (repetition of physical movements, sounds, or words, or the repetitive movement of objects) occurs more often when he is anxious or overwhelmed. Sameness calms him. The reliability of numbers and the order they belong in, lining up toys, crayons, apple slices, you name it. This works wonderfully to regulate him.
Until something is missing.
Then our house in turned upside down looking for a red crayon, a puzzle piece, or a train the size of my pinky that is missing from the lineup. A well-loved DVD that has been toddler-handled one too many times, or the red spatula I’m cooking with that he suddenly needs to be back in the drawer with all the other red cooking utensils.
Currently, one of the only shows he tolerates is the movie The Incredibles, but only for the first 8 minutes and 21 seconds. He watches while clutching the remote so he is certain he can stop it at the exact point when necessary. The rest of us would sure love to know what else happens in that movie!
I think he does this to try and memorize it all, so he can interpret it more easily the next time he sees it. So he can predict the music, volume changes, songs, words and actions of the characters. He’s also been taking that DVD cover with him everywhere. To bed, the bathroom, the kitchen table. It’s his new treasure.
One day, this will change. He will no longer tolerate this movie and will have moved on to the next little obsession, just like he has done before. None of us know when or why, it just happens.
It’s fascinating that he uses these techniques to block out other things happening in his environment that are more difficult for him to process. The most common sensory processing difficulty for Wilson is sounds, but it can also be light, heat, stressful emotions, or just over-stimulation.
Similarly, he eats the same foods each day, and I mean SAME, right down to the brand. It’s a real pain when these brands decide to change their packaging or worse, are discontinued. Then there are times when he just stops eating something he’s been eating for years. I suppose even he can grow tired of the unvaried.
Our sameness is unpredictable. But every day, we will buy a ticket, hold on tight, and ride that merry-go-round with him.
In other news, Wilson lost his first tooth!
I knew this was coming and would go one of two ways. 1- He would barely notice, and might not acknowledge it or show me. 2- He would get very upset about the change and want it put back in his mouth immediately.
Turns out, both options were right to assume. When the time came, he calmly removed his tooth himself. We showed him his reflection and cheered and he was happy for a bit and then went right back to what he was doing before. Then he tried to throw the tooth in the garbage.
His sister insisted we write a letter to the tooth fairy, explaining that Wilson would prefer she leave a toy instead of money because she thought he would really like that.
We showed him books about the tooth fairy, but abstract ideas and concepts like this are really hard for him to understand.
He went to bed and I thought that whole ordeal was way easier than I had anticipated.
But then he started sobbing. He was incredibly sad. He doesn’t have the words, but I know what he was thinking. “Where did my tooth go and what’s this big hole in my mouth and why can’t we just put the tooth back right now?”
He finally calmed after his sweet little friend sent him a video, showing him that she had the lost the very same tooth and that it was all going to be okay.
Continually thankful for our (now virtual) tribe!
There was a time when I thought this kid would NEVER, EVER, get a haircut.
Today, we busted this one out in 5-10 minutes with NO SCREAMING! 😱
I’ve already posted about haircut progress in the past, so I’ll spare you all the desensitization details.
Moms and Dads: hang in there if you are dealing with this or other sensory sensitivities, potty training, etc. It will get better.
If you think you are moving slow and taking baby steps, move even SLOWER and take smaller steps. It will be worth the time spent.
Side note: his incentive today was canned green beans 🤷🏼♀️ he wants what he wants! And when I tried to give him a new brand with no salt added, he smelled them and requested “different green beans”. Can’t sneak anything past this stud! 🤣
Also pictured below- our white board where we keep track of stars earned during the haircut and my version of a cup of green beans. 🙌🏻
Also side note: he does NOT stop moving 🌪 but was so happy, I needed to capture it 📸 .
As goes with autism, attempting this cut the night before school pictures could have gone VERY differently!! .
Today was a good day 💙
“Do you need to borrow my belt?”
This is the “helpful” offer I received from a man today while I was desperately trying to coax my son off the ground and out of a full blown meltdown in the middle of a busy grocery store parking lot.
What this man couldn’t see was that my son has autism, and we have been practicing going to the grocery store 1-2 times a week for the past month. Most visits have been successful, today was not. We were at a new store and out of routine, which is so important to him.
We had been to the bank prior, which had an absurdly long wait, during which my boy laid on the ground, totally fascinated with the cracks in the grout between the tiles. People stared but he was quiet and happy so it was a successful stop. We moved on to the new grocery store and he did great during the brief visit, and then we had a communication breakdown on the way out.
Here’s the thing. You NEVER fully know what someone else is going through. If you catch yourself judging or making assumptions about a stranger, STOP. You are probably, maybe, sometimes, often or always going to be wrong.
Be kind. Be helpful. Or be QUIET.
You know what WOULD have been helpful? If he had offered to carry my bags, told me to “hang in there” or BOUGHT ME A BEER because I obviously needed one or three. Implying my boy was simply short on discipline was enraging. And sad. And disappointing.
I fumbled with my son’s visual schedule and tried to get down on the hot pavement and reason with him but he was too far gone. When there is risk of him hurting himself, I have to physically intervene. Which, SPOILER, he does not like.
I told my three-year-old daughter to hang on to my shirt and I scooped up my almost-six-year-old and carried his flailing, screaming body through the parking lot. He kicked me, kicked cars (sorry!) and hit himself. It wasn’t pretty.
I’ll tell you it hasn’t gotten much easier over these past few years having all those eyes on us in the heat of these moments, and that comment did not help. I know exactly where he should stick that stupid belt.
This kid is so resilient though. Someday I will be too.
Besides mourning the loss of the stickers he scored at the bank (they were a casualty of the scuffle) he has moved on and is back to his happy self. And here I am still blood-boiling over it. Which is so silly, the whole ordeal was much harder on him. He couldn’t communicate his needs or his frustration and was abruptly physically removed. He never even noticed the bystanders.
I learn so much from this tough little cookie and am so proud of all the work he puts in. You can bet we’ll be back at the grocery store next week.
I find it so fascinating that someone who can be viewed as so “different” really just craves sameness.
But that’s just one of the many contradictions that lives in this autism world of ours.
Wilson’s obsessive, rigid and repetitive behaviors are sometimes the toughest part of his autism. Often times he needs things lined up, counted, and categorized. Sometimes he is just incapable of adapting or any kind of flexibility in thoughts or routines.
These rituals and need for order help him block out the stuff around him that’s just too hard to process, like emotions, language, stress, and sensory overstimulation.
This is his latest passion: he rolls up his clothes and puts them away in the same spot every time he leaves the house. He RELIES on the fact that they will be in that same spot when he returns. He immediately puts the outfit back on, and rolls it up and puts it away before bed.
We lovingly joke that he’s like Mr. Rogers putting on his sweater when he arrives.
We try to sneak in some washes when he is at school or asleep. He gets VERY distraught if the clothes aren’t where he left them or, heaven-forbid, they get spilled on.
He’s a little Marie Kondo in the making 😉
Click the image below to see the video!
While motherhood has certainly been my greatest adventure, the vulnerability in becoming a mom, and an autism mom, has been a substantial challenge for me. I found myself, for the first time in a long time, in need of help. A lot of it. This has never been something I’ll easily admit, ask for, or receive.
Thankfully, I am surrounded by the most patient, kind and generous humans who constantly offer their support.
Our friends and family and friends who are family, you open your homes to our curious five-year-old to redecorate, climb on furniture, your laps and shoulders and oblige him in his relentless requests to be chased in circles.
You continually say “hi” and attempt to engage with our little man, even when you know he will likely not hear you and walk on by.
Somedays he will hear you, and see you, and you will get to see his sweet face light up like never before. You love our children like your own and you will never know what that truly means to us.
I am so thankful for you.
His teachers, behavior interventionists, doctors, therapists and caregivers, you are patient, loving and recognize the little stuff can be very big stuff for him.
I am so thankful for you.
His BCBA, you were the first one to tell me that it was going to be OK and make me believe it. You remain so calm through the storms. You help us set goals and teach our little man how to crush them.
I am so thankful for you.
His little buddies, you have the most innocent, loving hearts. You don’t see “different”, you just see him. You may be few, but you are such an enormous light in his life.
I am so thankful for you.
The sisterhood of autism moms and special needs parents, the connection and community I have found in you is invaluable. I know my words don’t resonate with everyone but they might with you. Hearing your stories of struggle and achievements that come in every shape and size has been a constant reminder to always come back to hope.
I am so thankful for you.
All of our friends, family and friends of the family (some of whom I haven’t seen in years), who comment, message, and share our story. You encourage, support and lift us. When you share our story you are spreading autism awareness and acceptance.
I am so thankful for you.
Charlie, aka little sis, you know best how to drive your brother completely bonkers, the exact buttons to push, but you also love, include and protect him. You aren’t afraid to get right up in his face so he sees you, so he hears you, and you would never go to sleep without giving him a hug goodnight.
I am so thankful for you.
Our little one’s Daddy, you are strong when I am weak. You always support new methods, diets, and my harebrained ideas but aren’t afraid to question when something doesn’t feel right.
You keep him happy and safe, which isn’t easy but is our greatest purpose. You know him and you love him so well.
You stand with me, to advocate for him, to fight for understanding, and you remain there through our proudest moments and in our weakest.
I am so thankful for you.
My sweet boy. You adore the simple things. You smell, touch, taste and intensely examine. You’ve made me slow down and pay attention, whether I wanted to or not, you need me to. You’ve helped me find patience, and still I pray for more every single night.
You have forced me into a vulnerability like I have never known, and shown me all the amazingness that follows such a leap.
You’ve shown us how hard your world can be. Through frustration, pain, confusion and sleep deprivation you are still so happy in your soul. You’ve shown me this is not only possible, it’s just all a part of this wildly imperfect, beautiful ride.
I am so thankful for you.
Occupational Therapy (OT) is “the use of assessment and intervention to develop, recover, or maintain the meaningful activities, or occupations, of individuals, groups, or communities.” The American Occupational Therapy Association defines an occupational therapist as someone who “helps people across the lifespan participate in the things they want and need to do through the therapeutic use of everyday activities (occupations).”
Wilson began going to OT over a year ago to help develop skills and language he was lacking due to deficits with motor planning. Motor planning is “the ability to conceive, plan, and carry out a skilled, non-habitual motor act in the correct sequence from beginning to end.” Difficulties with motor planning are caused by poor neural connections in the brain and problems processing sensory information in the world around us.
Motor planning applies not only to physical motor skills, but also to our ability to form words. Typically, people intake and understand information, plan a response (physical and/or verbal), and carry out their plan. This is true from complex actions down to very simple movements or words. These movements and responses occur through neural pathways to and from the brain to the part of the body that needs action/movement (leg to kick a ball, mouth to produce speech) and become almost automatic over time to make room for learning new things and building new pathways/connections. For Wilson, these kinds of connections in his brain are weak or disorganized, so he spends so much more energy on understanding and planning motor tasks than typical children.
It is interesting that a perfectly functioning ear does not equate with a perfectly functioning auditory system. Our senses are only useful when the connections between the organ and the brain are operating correctly.
This is where OT comes in! We work on a variety of fine and gross motor skills as well as working on Wilson’s transitions from one activity to another, flexibility in play, and social skills. Our Occupational Therapist has helped us create visual schedules (example pictured below) to help Wilson know what is ahead in his day. She has also helped us troubleshoot with managing tantrums, potty training, hair cutting and expanding Wilson’s limited diet.
At Wilson’s sessions, his therapist combines activities that involve movement to develop core strength, balance and coordination with cognitive tasks. For example, one of his FAVORITE things to do there (or anywhere!) is swing. He loves being in motion. In swing photos at the top of this blog, you see the orange therapy swing and Wilson’s very own blue spacial swing at home. The swing provides vestibular input, increasing body awareness. The pressure provides a cocoon-like environment that has a calming effect. After moving or resting in the Lycra swing, children can feel more alert, relaxed and energized.
So he will sit on a swing and, while in motion, the therapist will hold up various objects or flashcards and Wilson will label them. This started very simple last year with things like labeling colors, shapes and animals, and has now has progressed to him forming 1-4 word phrases and sentences, and answering “yes/no” or “where” questions.
Movement helps activate the auditory processing area of the brain. Movements also stimulate neural connections. It is interesting that a perfectly functioning ear does not equate with a perfectly functioning auditory system. Our senses are only useful when the connections between the organ and the brain are operating correctly.
It has been so fascinating to watch Wilson build his vocabulary through these exercises. The words he was learning were ones he had been exposed to numerous times prior; while we read him books, watching cartoons, or hearing us or his peers talking. It wasn’t until he was in motion (a bit of a distraction which takes an element of pressure off combined with endorphins) that he was able to more easily access this vocabulary and attempt to say the words.
It was such an exciting time to start hearing his little voice more often. He still struggled with “finding” many words he knew and would grow very frustrated at times, but he worked SO hard and you could see (and hear!) the progress he was making.
But he still could not say “mama”. We worked hard on it at OT, I know our therapist realized it would mean so much to me. We worked on it in various sensory environments, like while he was swinging, jumping on the trampoline, or tucked into a comfy Lycra tunnel (his other favorite!)
One afternoon in December, I was early to pick up Wilson from preschool. Usually he was anxiously waiting at the gate with some of the other kids but he was busy playing and didn’t see me. So I climbed over to go get him and he turned around and was so surprised to see me, he said “mama!” I really cannot describe how that felt to finally hear him say that word. He was almost three and a half. It’s one thing to BE a mom and even FEEL like a mom, but a whole other world to hear the one who made you a mom, call you “mama”.
…and then it’s all about where we are going!
Living with autism did not begin for us the day we received Wilson’s autism diagnosis. He was the same boy the day before the diagnosis as he was the day after. For us, the journey to discovering this diagnosis began last summer when an educational specialist from the school district brought to our attention that she noticed red flags for autism in Wilson. At that time, Wilson was receiving Early Intervention from the school district for speech delay. Autism had kind of been on my radar, though I didn’t know very much about it. I was just a new mom, worried that her son wasn’t talking or socializing in the same way as other kids his age.
This news about autism red flags was crushing. It’s one thing to have a worried feeling in a very distant part of you, but a whole different thing when someone you barely know confirms that these worries are very real and valid. I knew next-to-nothing about autism besides that it scared the shit out of me. I immediately consulted Dr. Google and found that there was no cure. For several weeks, I could not get past that. I felt like Wilson had been slapped with some kind of life sentence. And we had too.
We immediately began weekly speech therapy again (he had done it for a few months when he was two) and occupational therapy followed for motor planning issues. This is when my hatred for waiting lists began. The months that followed were filled with a “hurry up and wait” mentality. We were rushed to get Wilson the early intervention he so desperately needed and that his specialists recommended, but were plagued by waiting lists at every turn. Developmental Pediatrician, Psychologist, insurance, Educational Autism Evaluation, results, Psychological Autism Evaluation, results, Naturopathic Physician, blood and urine testing, results. There was always a long wait for something. It was torturous at times.
Here is what they don’t tell you about early intervention: the earlier you “intervene”, the harder it is to know what you are dealing with. For MONTHS we were back and forth on whether or not Wilson truly had autism. And so were the professionals in that field! Talk about a confusing, rollercoaster of emotions. We went through it all: denial, pessimism, optimism, sadness, hopeful, mad, exhaustion, scared. So scared.
Eventually, with the diagnosis, came acceptance. Which felt somewhat like relief, given the confusing months we had all been through. We found a path, developed a treatment plan, and hit the ground running. We met with a Naturopathic Physician that specialized in autism. She helped us look at Wilson’s health as a whole and what types of deficiencies and ailments we could address to make him feel better physically. We started him on the gluten-free/casein-free (GFCF) diet (more on that later). We also removed some of the added sugars and food coloring from his diet.
Some of these changes weren’t going to be easy, given his extremely picky and limited eating habits. We started him on some vitamin supplements, fish oil, a probiotic, a botanical digestion supplement, and last but not least, Methyl B12 injections (lots more on this later). Slipping things into my child’s meals and sneaking into his room in the middle of the night to give him an injection in his sweet, perfect little bottom is definitely not where I saw this motherhood thing going. I’m willing to try anything (within reason) to help my boy.
Wilson started Applied Behavioral Analysis (ABA) in July and it’s going great so far. ABA is the application of behavioral principles of learning and motivation to the improvement of socially significant behavior. In short, his therapists study certain targeted behaviors and figure out the root of why these behaviors are occurring. Then they use these behavioral principles to increase or decrease certain behaviors as well as teach complex skills in areas such as communication, self-help, play skills, and self-regulation. He is working hard, learning so much and the best part: he loves going there. I’m looking forward to sharing more about his ABA experience in the coming months!