Sunday Mornings

Just a little peek at our Brady Bunch Sundays:

Every single Sunday is the same:  the toddlers are fussing and cranky, Katie refuses to wash her hair and decides instead to experiments with make up, which of course makes me get a wee bit dramatic:  "Girl, there's a fine line between wearing make up and looking like you got attacked by a pack of Crayolas!"  Amber wants to wear gym shorts (they're short, I hate them, and it's cold outside; we're in the middle of winter), and Dayton wants to dress to the nines - dress shirt and tie (completely ignoring that there's a stain on his tie, and the dress shirt).

The five year olds decide they want to sit at the stairs of the altar, be the center of attention...  as I pretended I don't notice they run up the isle to the minister.  Naturally, Dayton wants to correct their behaviour as they've broken the cardinal rule:  "though shall be on your best behaviour in church..."

"They're not supposed to be there.  I'm gonna go get them!"  I know exactly what Dayton's idea of getting them will be:  Dragging them from the altar back to us (and we just HAVE to sit at the back of the church, because that's the routine and we can't break the routine), with the little ones screaming and kicking as they're not getting their way, typical behaviour for any toddler that doesn't get what they want.  I do my best to keep him rooted beside me, finally give up and take Amber, Katie and Dayton to Sunday School a wee bit early.

On one particular Sunday, we had a change I wasn't prepared for:  the Sunday School room was being used as a dining room to feed the congregation...  I went into full panic mode.  Change and autism do NOT mix.

Thankfully, the reverend came to rescue me with the five year olds, and led me to another room for our Sunday School.  Only one more child came to join us, making it a very, very small group.  Thank goodness because the three older ones were on the verge of a meltdown as we had another curve ball change thrown our way.  My babies on the other hand, took full advantage of the situation, running to sit on Reverend Mark's lap.  John and Athena LOVE reverend Mark, and don't even try to hide it.

Reverend Mark held the lesson that day, and I love it when he takes a break from sermons and comes to teach the children.  His lessons are always rich, leaving me with the feeling I've just walked away from a sermon.  Most importantly, reverend Mark is super supportive of the kids and even comes to pick them up for youth group in his own vehicle!  The congregation is very much involved with all of the children and supportive of special needs children AND adults.  The congregation of Kildonan United Church is in the process of fundraising money for a special electric chair for one of the elderly congregation members.  I've never seen anything like it before.  When one member of the church is affected, the whole gets involved as one.  It's incredibly amazing to be a part of this group of people who genuinely care about their church members.  And now, they've opened their doors to our autism community every Tuesday night!  I consider my family to be very fortunate and blessed to be able to be a part of this group of wonderful people.  Anyways...  off track again...

Reverend Mark made pretzels.  Not just any pretzels.  The best ever!  I've never had a fresh from the oven pretzel.  This was AMAZING!  He's an amazing baker, one who bakes breads from scratch...  yum! Breaking bread with the kids was not only fun, but it made them feel important, plus we got a good lesson on why we break bread.

Unfortunately, the room we were in was right above the sermon...  And reverend Mark finished his lesson before the sermon was over...

If I have God before me, Jesus beside me, the Holy Ghost within me and am surrounded by the Lord's angels, who or what shall I fear?  THE TODDLERS!  A bored toddler is a handful of trouble, but I have two of these little angels.  I broke out in a sweat!  Dayton, Katie and Amber are very much rule followers, and the rules are simple:  behave at church.  The toddlers haven't really been observant of this rule...

Of course, Reverend Mark assured me that everything was all right, children are children and the congregation would understand.

So, one may ask, why do I continue to do this every Sunday?  My answer:  The greatest thing a mother can do for her children is to give her children to God, teach them to love, respect, honor and worship God, and teach them to talk to God.  I won't be around forever, my time and Mike's will come.  When that time comes, I want my children to know they are not alone.  I am thankful my mother gave me this same gift, as she was called home eleven years ago, and I miss her so much.  I am thankful for God's unending love that holds me tight when I feel alone in my struggles.



Consider yourselves hugged, (and daddy Paul, if you're reading this, I miss you and mom very much)



Lou

And Here We Are... The New And Improved Brady Bunch Family!

I've gone from having one child to having nine.  Yes, I said nine.

My room mate and I have four, my boyfriend has five more.  That's nine.  And out of the nine, five are on the autism spectrum.  God created a world of diversity...  not to separate us for our differences, but to teach us acceptance and to love each other for what makes us unique.  And my family is unique...  Autism means I won't lead an ordinary life, I will lead an extraordinary life!!!

How do my boyfriend and I do it?  How do we make it through the day?  Well...  we believe in the power of vegetables.  That's right, I said vegetables; they give us the energy to get through the day.  Since we fully and completely believe that coffee comes from beans (I dare you to challenge me on this), we figure the ten pots of coffee consumed between us during the course of the day covers our daily recommended amount of vegetables, which in turn gives us the energy to tackle the kids.  Extra 'vegetables' are consumed on our Tuesday night PACE KID GYMBOREE evenings to take on more children and play hard.

My room mate thinks I'm nuts.  She may have a point, I've been known to be a wee bit of a nut sometimes, but even though I'm different, sometimes you gotta love me, right?  Right??  Right?!  Dayton's dad laughs and ridicules me every time he calls to speak to Dayton when I'm at my boyfriend's place because he hears the kids screaming in the background...  Neither one of them views life in the same way I do:  One of the most attractive, sexiest traits a man can have is being a good daddy.  While genes may make you a father, they certainly don't make you a daddy.  Daddy is the guy who sits up with the kids, stands up for them at their IEP meetings and would gladly lay his life on the line for all of them.  He's also the guy who comes to the PACE KID'S GYMBOREE and plays hard with all the kids present instead of just sitting on the side lines, consumed with something else entirely.

Come on!!!  Who wouldn't find this attractive?!  In love these Ryan Gosling pics, so here's some more from Extreme Parenting...

Now, while my boyfriend looks nothing like Ryan Gosling, he is the man behind these words.  This is just how he is.  Caring, giving, and completely 100% involved  when it comes to the kids.  And after a long day with the kids, he turns to me and gives me 100% of his attention...  Wow.  A good man can make you feel sexy, strong and able to take on the world...  oh, sorry...  that's wine...  wine does that.  An easy mistake to make...  But seriously, he's the best.  He makes me feel special and important.  Judy Garland said it best:  "For it was not into my ear that you whispered, but into my heart.  It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."  That's what he does for me.  And for now, that is enough.  That's every girl's dream.

And then of course there are the children.  I've always wanted a house full of kids.  And now I do.  I don't care who you are, no matter what, no matter how old you may be...  hugs from children make everything better.  Getting a hug from a child with autism and sensory issues...  priceless!  You know you're truly loved when that happens.

Now if I could just get them all to behave...

Am & K (12 and 14 years old, both have autism) like to eat everything in sight first thing in the morning and hide wrappers all over the house.  They also like to get up at 5am; it doesn't matter if it's a weekday or not, they're up at 5am and that's final.  We've tried putting them to bed late, but it doesn't make a difference.  Once they're up, the rest of the house wakes as these two are not graceful like their father.  I swear, these two could totally pass for my own, biological kids.  They share my 'swag.'  Dayton, my first and only born (10, turning 11 next month!) is not a morning person...  not unless it's the weekend.  So the three of my babes before medication are a handful together.  Especially when they all believe they are right, but don't agree on anything.  Their motto seems to be "Even though we disagree, you are entitled to your opinion, just don't say it out loud or there will be hell to pay.  You have every right to be wrong.  Once I say you're wrong, stop talking!"  Oh yeah baby...  we're moving like a herd of turtles through a field of peanut butter now!  This argument has the stamina to last for hours of fun.  But do not fear. I believe that for every set back, God has a major come back.  So I do what I can, and let God take over with what I can't handle, sit down at the kitchen table and sip on my vegetables.

At, (age 5, super hyper and we question ADHD) is my little Marilyn Monroe.  She's a diva, and she makes sure everyone in the house knows it.  It's her way or all hell breaks loose.  She's blond, with curly hair (when I said Marilyn Monroe, I meant it), super cute, and she knows it and uses it to her full advantage.  The girl knows what she wants and gets it, irregardless of the cost.

J is 4, a little small for his age as he was born premature.  He's a little trooper.  J was the one of the bunch that took a while to earn his trust.  Now that I have it, he's attached at my hip, literally.  He was the first to call me momma (other than Dayton of course), and the first to run to the door to greet me.  J also practically worships the ground Dayton walks on and has just recently decided to call him 'brother.'

J & At have taught me that the more annoying a toy, the longer the battery lasts...  A story all of its own for another time.

As is 18 going on 30.  She's recently moved in with her grandpa and I don't get to spend nearly as much time with her as I'd like to.  Her Asperger's, OCD, ADHD and other conditions make her an interesting young woman, whom I've become very proud of.  She has her first job, and has had it since the summer.  This may seem to be just another mile stone for some of you, but it's a major thing to us.  She's also received the Queen Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee Medal for her efforts in Special Olympics!!!  Who can say that about their kids?  Yes, I know...  I'm oozing with pride that I have no right to, as it wasn't I who raised her.  Her mother was a wonderful and amazing woman who taught her daughter well.  I have the privilege of watching her daughter continue on with the Special Olympics and once in a while, offer 'motherly' advice.  We both know that I could never, ever fill her mother's shoes.  

My room mate's kids don't call me mom, but they have occasionally called me their 'other mother.'  And if there's any doubt as to their love for me, they remind me they consider me their mom by their behaviour towards me.

B (17) is the daughter every mom dreams of.  She's smart, on the honor roll at school and wants to be a paediatrician.  The girl even has O- blood, (the special kind that anyone can have) which she donates every 62 days.  She cleans the house every Sunday, at which time we make sure the rest of the children and adults leave the house as she gets a wee bit cranky.  Usually, I hide out with Dayton at my boyfriend's place.   Her Christmas card to me read:  "Dear mom, I wish you spent more time at home..."  I love her sooooo much!!!

R (15, with autism) is a good kid who always greets me at the door when he hears my car pull up in the driveway and helps me unpack my car.  There are days where he doesn't speak to me for a week at a time after I scold him for something, usually when he's cranky and does something silly to show everyone how ticked off he is.  Let's just say the basement has been redone twice in two years.  This last summer while moving in, my boyfriend, room mate and I had R help in gutting and restoring the basement.  I think he's learnt his lesson...  He's in the process of getting an autism service dog, who's huge!  R will be doing a lot of walking once we get the dog back to our home, meaning lots of energy spent, less time to get himself into trouble.

M (10 years old) is the boy I love to tease and tease and tease.  He makes it so easy...  When he comes back from his dad's house I chase him around the house, screaming at the top of my lungs how much I love him and how much I've missed him...  The way to get what I want from him is to get him Microsoft points for his x-box...  I've just given him 4, 200 points to get him to stop playing Black Ops in the house...  All right, so the kid has expensive taste.  Oh, and the only thing the kid will eat is CHICKEN!!!  Grrr...  I get even with him by feeding him beef when he misbehaves.

And then of course, I can not forget the cats (Grrr, my room mate has 3 of them).  I'm not particularly fond of them as they (actually it's one of them, and when I figure out which one, we're gonna have some words) shed all over my stuff.  The cats' fur sticks to the furniture, clothes, bedding (that's the one that irritates me the most as I have allergies) and oh yes, AIR.  Things the cats' fur does not stick to?  The cats themselves!  Anyone see my problem here?!  I'm hoping R's autism service dog takes them out one by one...  I've already told M that one of the cats who I suspect is the culprit in the shedding vandalism is old, and may soon part with us do to 'natural' causes.

B also has a small dog, who has turned out to be my best friend.  On days where I feel overwhelmed and stressed due to my darling ex husband, I swear this dog is in tune with me and she nudges me around the house, cuddles with me when I sit and keeps me on my toes.  On days where I'm good, she just plays with me.

Thank you Lord for my health, the people you've surrounded me with, the roof over my head, the food in our belies, the wee bit of change in my pocket the children haven't found, and the song in my heart.  You have blessed my life with my children, and I will thank you every day.

I am just really, really, really happy with my life right now.


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

True Co-Parenting, Fun Times On The Spectrum

I feel like I've regressed back to being a teenager.  Never thought in a million years I'd ever live with a room mate again, and here I am...  Not only am I living with a room mate, but I'm living with four children.  Three boys (Dayton included), one awesome girl.  Two of the four are on the spectrum.  Dayton and an older, teenage version of Dayton.

I thought about living on my own, but knew that if I did, I would:  a) spend more money on rent than I want to as I still want to do things with Dayton, living on our own would not give us much money to do that and with no child support coming in, every penny counts; and b) Dayton would seclude himself further and miss out on making social gains.

Living with a room mate that has a child on the autism spectrum has had its ups and downs. The up side is that I've had a taste of what co-parenting is all about, and wish Dayton's dad and I could tag team the way my room mate and I do.  It's nice having two parents under one roof, even if we're both moms.  And yes, while there are more children for me to co-parent than having Dayton alone, the children work together as a team in EVERYTHING.  When the boys misbehave, they all misbehave.  When they're good, they're all good together.  So, disciplining one means I'm disciplining all as one.  Same with my room mate.  Raising little boys is not just a job. It's an adventure...  with sound effects.  And my room mate's oldest daughter...  I LOVE HER!!!  She's seventeen and more responsible then most adults I know.  She's a blessing to share a home with, and helps with the other three kiddos, cleaning the home and she likes the same kinds of things I do.  Now if I could just be her small, slender size...

On the down side, I don't have the privacy to walk around naked from the shower to my bedroom.  Sometimes when I cry no one sees my tears.  Sometimes when I'm happy no one sees me smile.  But FART!!  Just ONE time...  And everybody in the house knows!

That's it for the down side.

For the first time in my life, I now know what it feels like to co-parent and I LIKE IT!  I like taking the kids to school, picking them up after school and hearing about their day.  I love sitting around the dinner table and having them tell me what they've learned.  I like the serenity (I know, how do you achieve serenity with children, but you haven't lived my life the last few years) of everyone knowing that today we may have had a rough day, but tomorrow's another day.  I love hearing laughter again.  And when the meltdowns come, they don't take nearly as long to diffuse.

At the end of the day, I know everything's going to be all right.  When things get rough, I just remember God's promise to take care of us, always.  God loves the birds, and they don't starve, so he'll take care of Dayton and I too.  As long as we have each other and God in our lives, we'll be fine.


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

A Day And A Bit In His Shoes

Five children, three of which are on the autism spectrum.  I only had to watch the two little ones, they're four years old, and they're the ones NOT on the spectrum.  And of course Dayton.  I had the help of the eldest daughter, 17, with Asperger's, a high functioning type of autism.

I survived.  I done good, the house didn't burn down and the kids were safe.  I lost my keys a few times, Dayton found my cell phone for me every time it rang as I continually "misplaced" it, I downed a lot of cough syrup, tried to help out with chores around the house and somehow managed to get the little ones to take their naps without passing out myself.  I changed a dirty diaper without vomiting even a little bit (dry heaving doesn't count, right?), and managed to feed the kids all at the same time.  By the time SuperDad came home, I wondered how on earth he could manage five kids on his own...  I only had three and his oldest, OK, so really, I had four, but still!  I only had them for the afternoon...  and I was calling Mayday!

How does he keep the laundry straight?  How does he know which piece of clothing belongs to whom?  I had a hard time figuring that one out, so when he got home, he had some sorting to do.  So much for trying to help.  Pants I figured were the boy's were actually his middle daughters.  As a woman, you'd think I'd know the difference between girl's and boy's clothing, right?  Ummm, how about no...  Never mind the boy is four and the daughter in question is eleven...

There's one bathroom in the house and he's potty training two toddlers.  They both had to go at the same time.  How does he determine which one is the urgent one?  They both looked real uncomfortable to me.

Both need to be bathed at the same time too, and neither one wants to go first.  How does he handle that?  And God forbid one goes to bed before the other.  How is he able to be in both bedrooms at the same time?

I don't think I've ever been as happy to see a man walk through the door as I was to see SuperDad come home to the rescue with a bag of KFC in his arms.  He was like a knight in shining armor.  I don't care much for KFC, especially now that I'm trying to keep my girlish figure, but I wasn't gonna complain, nope, not I.

But at the end of the day, even when off duty due to my rescue, I couldn't stop.  I hand fed the little girl, even though I really shouldn't have.  She's old enough to eat on her own, and I know she totally took advantage of me and had me wrapped around her little finger.  I tidied up her bed before tucking her in for the night.  She wrapped her little arms around me and bid me good night.  The little guy may not have shown me much affection at bed time, but made sure to strut his stuff for me after his bath.

Worn out and tired, wondering how I was going to drive myself home, I didn't want to leave.  Those kids are awesome.  Thank goodness I was taking one of them home with me.  My babe.  Dayton.  He took his job of helping me watch the kids very seriously, and had my back the whole time.  And SuperDad...  He's pretty awesome too.  I mean, he's SuperDad!

So, I've cracked SuperDad's super human power.  I figured out how he handles five kids all on his own.  I no longer have to wonder how he's able to manage.  It's called unconditional love.  I've heard of this strange phenomenon, and have that with my son, and now I've seen it between a father and his kids.  And I got a little of that magical stuff myself from these awesome kids.  But I must warn you.  Don't try this at home alone.  It is highly addicting, and very confusing.  One minute they love you, love you, love you, and the next, well, let's just say I thought I was growing horns and could have sworn I had a tail.  Even so, I know they care about me.  They may say no, but their little arms wrapped around me and the screams for 'Lou' tell me another thing all together.

SuperDad's life is super busy with the five kids and exhausting by the end of the day, but what I'd give to have all that love...  I no longer feel 'sorry' for him.  I envy him.  He is wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.  And once a week, I get to be selfish and share a few moments of this wonderful phenomenon.  God is good.


Wishing I could do a better job of verbally expressing these hugs to all of you,

Lou

11 Step Program For Those Considering Having Children:

11 Step Program For Those Considering Having Children:

Lesson 1

1. Go to the grocery store.
2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.
3. Go home.
4. Pick up the paper.
5. Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2

Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their...
1. Methods of discipline.
2. Lack of patience.
3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.
4. Allowing their children to run wild.
5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.
Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.

Lesson 3

A really good way to discover how the nights might feel...
1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)
2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.
4. Set the alarm for 3AM.
5. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.
6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.
7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.
9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)

Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.

Lesson 4

Can you stand the mess children make? T o find out...
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.
2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.
4. Then rub them on the clean walls.
5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.
6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5

Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.
1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.

Time allowed for this - all morning.

Lesson 6

Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.
Leave it there.
2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.
3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.

Lesson 7

Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 8

1. Hollow out a melon.
2. Make a small hole in the side.
3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.
4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.
5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.
6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.

You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.

Lesson 9

Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you're thinking What's 'Noggin'?) Exactly the point.

Lesson 10

Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying 'mommy' repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each 'mommy'; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 11

Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the 'mommy' tape made from Lesson 10 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

This is all very tongue in cheek; anyone who is parent will say 'it's all worth it!' Share it with your friends, both those who do and don't have kids. I guarantee they'll get a chuckle out of it. Remember, a sense of humor is one of the most important things you'll need when you become a parent!




Consider yourselves hugged,


Lou

Coffee Addicts Annonymous

Had another "coffee break" with a group of autism parents last night and met two new ladies thanks to the Autism Winnipeg Facebook page.

This was our second time out for "coffee" as a group and Mike and I really need to come up with a name for this coffee meeting we're trying to get started, to create a sense of community for parents with children on the autism spectrum.  You know, a place where you can vent if you want with, no one looking at you as though you've gone completely insane because they can not possibly understand what your life is like.  Like the time where I told my friend how Dayton as a toddler would press his ear to the floor and crawl in my kitchen while feeling the texture on the side of his face...  Maybe his ear was itchy?  She kind of looked at me like I was raising a freak or something...

Getting out with the parents was nice because I felt like I'm not alone.  It was hard for me to leave the comfort of my nice warm living room when all I felt like doing was cuddling up under a blankie and watch a movie with Dayton who was sad because daddy's left town again for a month.  In saying this, I know that secluding ourselves in the house is NOT healthy.  However...  it is soooooo much easier to just stay at home.  Staying at home means that Dayton has his toys at his finger tips.  I have my jammies and am super comfortable wrapped in a blankie.  If Dayton has a hissy fit, I don't have to explain anything to anyone.  I just deal with it.  There's no one there to judge us.  Life is so much easier this way, with no one there to judge my son, my parenting or me.

Listening to the two moms' stories of their younger boys, I recalled similarities with Dayton at their age.  Another thing that came up that we had in common was extreme morning sickness requiring the anti-nausea drug Diclectin (doxylamine succinate, pyridoxine hydrochloride), which is the only anti-nauseant / antiemetic specifically prescribed by doctors to pregnant women to manage nausea.

We also shared gestational diabetes, and I myself had pre-eclampsia (formerly known as toxemia - sounds harsh).  We all have mercury fillings...  Makes you wonder, doesn't it?  I think research should direct it's way into pre-natal care, just saying.  In saying that, a lot more research needs to be done on helping our kids as they will be adults soon.  Dayton's already turning ten this February, how FAST time flew by!  And no wonder...  I've been so busy with doctors appointments, hospital trips, observations, numerous ear infections, surgeries, EEG's, behaviour therapists, neurologist, developmental specialists, school, etc...

It's good getting out of the house, sharing stories and feeling accepted no matter what.  We even talked about CFS being called on us because of our children's behaviour, and the emotional turmoil and humiliation it brought.

It doesn't look that the world around us is going to change.  It's up to us to cope, but how do you cope alone?  I don't know about you, but I for one need some emotional support, not counselling, but meeting with parents out there that understand.  But getting out of the house...  It's just so time consuming, and I'm lazy.  Yeah, I said it, you heard me - I AM LAZY.  If I don't have to do it, I won't do it.  It's one more thing on my list of things I have to do, and my list is huge.  Whopping big.  Enormous.  Gigantic.  I have many things to do and people to annoy.  It's my thing.

But then I think of one of my autism mom friends, God bless her, who is in immense pain, using crutches to get out in this weather, and I think to myself:  if she is doing it, you need to get your butt in gear and just do it!  Plus, she made the mistake of trusting my driving...  and didn't get scared even when I got us lost and made illegal U-turns...

The toughest exercise in life is to just get out and do it.  Once you're doing it, it becomes easier and easier and eventually becomes a routine.

So, if you live in the Winnipeg area, keep an eye out on the Autism Winnipeg Facebook page.  That's where we post when and where we'll meet up.  Feel free to email me as well for times and places.

autism.diva.help@gmail.com


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Has Special Needs Inclusion Gone Too Far? Part Deux

For the love of everything holly...

I never meant to insult parents by posting Has Special Needs Inclusion Gone Too Far in late November...  But I'm still getting hate email about this post, and quite frankly, it's starting to annoy me.

Yes, I agree with all the hate mail that said there are also bad teachers out there.  I totally 100% agree.  Dayton and I have met our fair share of them, believe me.  It appears that you have only read this one and only post and not the rest of my blog, so I forgive your ignorance.

I also agree with you that your special needs child has the right to an education like everyone else's child.  Absolutely.  But lets get real for a moment, shall we?

Who's best interest are we serving by having a fifteen year who's cognitive skills are that of a five year old sit in a grade ten classroom?  Do you honestly believe this child's rights are being met?  How about his or her education?  Give your head a shake people.  I'm not saying this child doesn't deserve an education or that he should not be in a classroom as he won't learn anything, I'm saying that this child needs to be in a classroom he or she can UNDERSTAND so that he CAN learn!!!  If the past nine years of teaching have had no educational value to this child, what makes you think he's going to improve in this atmosphere?

I'm sorry, but my son is in grade four.  Dayton is turning ten this February, but cognitively he thinks like a six year old.  He struggles with reading and writing and is sitting at about half way through grade one with reading.  Writing is more like kindergarten stage.  Oh, all right.  More like preschool...

As his mom, I want my baby to be with his peers, but NOT at the risk of his education.  Today's school system believes in social promotion.  Yesterday's school system was very different, but you know what?  It freaking worked.

I was out for coffee with a bunch of autism parents last Thursday night, and I was told by one of them that Winnipeg's drop out rate sits at 75%...  75%!!!  Why do you think that is?  I'll tell you why...  They can't read!!!  Why can't they read?  Social promotion!  I mean really...  I didn't want to fail, it would be very embarrassing, wouldn't it?  So I made sure I didn't fail and studied.  Don't get me wrong, I did the bare minimum.  I did my homework and by the grace of God passed, even math with which I struggled all through high school.

The first three years of elementary school you learn how to read.  Beginning in grade four, you are expected to learn from what you read.  How is Dayton doing here?  Obviously he's NOT.  Are his educational needs being met?  In a way I suppose they are, but at what cost?

Let's see...  can his teacher (who I swear is a saint) make up the one curriculum to teach her whole grade four classroom?  Ummmmmm...  NO.  I guarantee you that Dayton is not the only special needs student in her classroom either, so I'm going to bet that she's making a few lesson plans for her class.  Does she get paid extra for this work?  Ummmmm, NO.  Do you think she works past the time her "fourth graders" are dismissed? Ummmmm, YES.  Is this fair?  Ummmmm, NO!!!  I don't work for free, do you?  Why should she?  And yet, as a society, we expect her to, don't we?  Why?  Because our special needs kids have rights.

Let's get back to our special needs kids, shall we?  Do you think Dayton is having a good time in grade four?  Ummmmm, NO.  He likes his teacher, loved his beloved Educational Assistant, but he's not thrilled at seeing that he's 'different.'  At the end of the day, we're both exhausted, but we have extra work to do because as a parent, I want my baby to learn how to read and write.  Dayton wants to do what the rest of his peers are doing in the classroom...  but he knows that he's not capable of it.  What a blow to his little self esteem!!!  Our only grace this year has been his fantastic teacher.  Without her, I'm sure I'd have pulled out my hair, Dayton would be on more medication for stress, and there's no way I would be working now.  We'd sit on welfare, and I would most likely pull him out of school and home school him.

So back to the five year old stuck in a grade ten classroom...  Our Heavenly Father, I pray to you today that this five year old boy will not be my son.  I pray to you that if it is your will that this becomes my son, that you give me the courage to do what is RIGHT for my son and not what I selfishly WANT.  If this means that Dayton is not included with peers chronologically his age to see him happy with younger kids, please, open the eyes of my heart and not the eyes to my pride.  Please God, show me the way to my son's happiness and rights and blind me to my own selfish pride and sense of justice.

Amen.


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Another One Bites The Dust

Ahhh yes, it's a tough week for Mr. Dayton.  Dayton's beloved educational assistant's last day of work was yesterday.  Today, he got to watch his grandma Karen move her belongings out of grandpa's home and leave for Colorado on her new life, and Big Mamma starts her new job on Monday.  Poor kid...

Hold up...  Did I say grandma Karen is leaving us?  Yes...  Even grandparents have marital issues.  Grandma Karen has been gone since September when her mom passed away, and today was the first time we've seen her since her terrible ordeal...  Losing a parent is never easy, no matter how old you are.

Dayton of course is confused...

Last night:  "Dayton, we're going to grandpa's tomorrow morning to help grandma move out.  I'd like to be there early, so I was thinking we'd get up at the same time we normally do to get ready for school and..."
"THERE'S NO SCHOOL TOMORROW!!!"
"I know babe, I was just saying that..."
"No, there's no school tomorrow, no, I'm not getting up early, no grandma moving out.  She has to stay."
"Babe, it's not up to us..."
"Her not have a choice, just like I don't.  No school tomorrow."
Ugh.

So off we went to grandpa's place this morning, only to be the last of the family to arrive.  Dayton's uncles and aunties were already there, and so was grandma Karen, who glanced at us and said:  "Oh good, there's more of you..."

I lost it.  I'm not proud of it, but remember how I was saying that a year ago, I would cry when someone hurt my feelings, or Dayton's feelings, and I would try to reason with the person as I am a people pleaser.  Now I've become Lou's evil twin Lola; not caring who I hurt, leaving a path of destruction behind me.  I snapped back at her:  "Well, you'd think you'd be happy to see your family again!"  She didn't speak to me again.

As I sat on the living room floor with the rest of the family, I felt completely uncomfortable.  So it seemed did grandma Karen.  She walked around the place like death warmed over.  I can't say I blame her, knowing that everyone present was there for grandpa; loyalty lines were drawn, and blood is thicker than water, right?  I felt a little bad for her.  But she did hurt my baby...

"Grandma's not gonna leave me mamma, she loves me."
"Babe, this has nothing to do with you.  This is stupid grown up stuff."
"Mamma, she loves me.  She told me she did."
"I don't think that's changed babe.  She does love you, but things have changed for her.  She has to go back home.  It's not about you, it's about her."
"Is this why Mrs. H. (his educational assistant) had to go too?  Stupid grown up stuff?"
"Pretty much babe.  Stupid grown up stuff."
"But you said you love me, and you never leave me mamma.  That's what you said."
"That's different babe.  Grandma does love you, and she is leaving, but she's not leaving you."
"How you say she not leaving me when she leaving?"
Grrrr...

So I lost my cool.  I'm not happy about it.  I'm especially not happy that my babe saw me lose my cool.  I'm not happy that our family's been turned upside down, and that Dayton's lost his grandma.

This twin sister Lola is not who I am.  I'm not this person, and I don't like her.

So, to try and put a smile on both our faces, Dayton and I had what we call 'family night.'  We played the little version of Cranium (totally love it, I've modified it to have our own version), tried to play some yahtzee, and then daddy came back to Winnipeg from The Pas...  The two of them are currently arguing over the MW3 video game.  Lovely.  I think I'm going to make it an early night tonight.

Calgon, take me away!


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

Super Dad, A Hero In My Eyes

Finally, I finally got a chance to meet my new hero, whom I will from now on refer to as Super Dad.  He's earned the title.  I know of no other man who is as selfless, warm and caring as this man.

Super Dad is a single father of five, that's right, FIVE children, three of which are biologically his, and the two youngest are his niece and nephew.  Their ages range from seventeen to...  drum roll please...  three!!!  Wow!!!  I don't know where the man gets the energy to do it, but he does it and does it well.  The three oldest are on the autism spectrum...  Given these circumstances, Super Dad still finds the time to decorate his home and all of his front yard with Halloween decorations, and come Christmas, he'll do the same!  He does this for his five children, bringing to mind the saying that there is a difference between a 'daddy' and a sperm donor.  Sorry, I don't mean to sound so harsh, but I've met both, and the ones in between.

Super Dad's Halloween work

My favourite snap shot of Super Dad's handy work

He's such a proud Super Dad!  He even brought out pictures for me to see his kiddos.  How embarrassing for me...  I have tons of pictures of Dayton on my blackberry, but I forgot it on my trip home from BC, and it's in the mail, so I had none to show him...  And here I think of myself as an awesome mom!  Woops.

Raising five kids, Super Dad even finds time to keep a beautiful garden of flowers around his home.  He showed me pictures of tiger lilies and other flowers, and I shamefully had to admit I have a black thumb.  My plants have all died since I moved, including my cactus.  How do you kill a cactus you may ask...  Just bring it over to my home,  I'll have it dead in a week.

Why am I raving about Super Dad?  I have one child on the autism spectrum, ONE.  I dread Halloween.  A hyper boy to begin with, Dayton looks and behaves like a squirrel on acid with OCD when introduced to candy.  Even his voice changes and he talks so fast I can hardly understand him.  I have no energy to put up Halloween decorations.  Christmas time is different.  While I still don't have the energy, celebrating the birth of Christ is very important to me.  There's no candy involved in my house other than baked cookies.  I can handle that.  How Super Dad does it with three on the autism spectrum is remarkable.

It gets better...  Super Dad is changing careers...  He's just recently got hired as an educational assistant.  He's inspired me to take a look at this career choice myself.  I love pharmacy, but I really want to make a change in someone's life.  As  Leo Tolstoy has said:  "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing themself."  Time to make a change within myself.

Super Dad without caffeine, LOL.  Can you believe this guy is single ladies?  Once you get past  the mask, he's a heart breaker, I swear!  LOL

Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

... And Somehow, I've Become UNREASONABLE

Kids...  they definitely need to come with a warning label:  "I am exactly like my father."  Sorry dads, but in my case it really is true.

After our visit with Charlie-Anne (my step daughter), I've come to see just how much Glen's kids are just like him.  I honestly thought it was just Dayton, and seeing as how he is my only child, I now see just how naive I've really been...

I love Charlie to death, I really do.  There's little I wouldn't do for that girl.  I gave her my sweet sixteen family daughter ring, did all her laundry, brought her meals to the table, did all the dishes, and when I wasn't doing that, I spent every available waking moment with her, making sure she didn't get bored.  When she left us, I felt like she took a chunk of my heart right along with her.  I miss her like crazy and can't stop thinking about her since she's gone back to Regina last Thursday. 

I wish I could say our entire two week visit was flawless, but she is fifteen, a teenager.  You know there will be some disputes, especially since we just met her last September for the first time since she was two years old.

Dayton loves her to pieces too, and when she showed a wee bit more attention to his little buddy, he got a wee bit jealous.  Of course, since he doesn't understand his feelings, he's not able to say what the problem is, and decides to push his little buddy in the pool in a fit of jealously, rather than try to talk out something he doesn't understand.

Some of the similarities I noticed the kids have with their dad is that none of them want to "talk" about their feelings or what they're thinking.  When upset, they prefer to hide out and have a fit.  They all pout in the same way.  They prefer to learn things the hard way rather than seeing a simpler solution, they value money more than anything else, and they don't feel comfortable with affection or intimacy.  How am I to survive this when I'm a touchy, lovey kind of gal?  I love hugging both of the kids and kissing them good night.  I refuse to go to bed angry or upset and don't want to be responsible for someone going to bed in this state of mind either, so talking things out is important to me.  The learning things in a more difficult way I can deal with, providing they're learning.  But when it comes to love and the emotional side of things, and preferring "things" over "love"...  how do I deal with that and still be me?

As a teenager, Charlie-Anne things of me as...  wait for it...  OVERPROTECTIVE.  Oh my gosh!  Furthermore, her friend who happens to be my best friend's daughter AGREES with her and so does my best friend!  Oh my goodness, I feel another brain aneurysm coming on.  And to think, all I did was ask where they were off to and what time they'd be home and showing a little apprehensiveness about Charlie-Anne meeting up with a boy and ending up in the wrong part of the city, and asking for her not to go alone anywhere in the dark...  I joked around a lot about it, but it seems no one thought I was funny...  Ugh.  Well hell's bells...  If anyone needs to know anything, call a teenage girl.  It seems they know everything. Should save us a lot on college and university.  It appears my life experience and yours amounts to nothing of importance.  

Seems another mistake I've made during our visit was trying too hard to please her by hugging her and embarrassing her so that she would know she was a part of our family and had a place in our home.  Jeez!  All I did was hug her in public and when she showed interest in a boy, I asked him if he thought she was pretty and asked him for his phone number.  Well, at least she was pleased with me getting the phone number...  I did something right!!!  Wooooo-hoooooooo!!!  Little does she know I did it as a joke.  I do it to my best friend all the time.  Back fired on me now, didn't it.  I bet the little schmuck is calling or texting her as we speak. 

To answer your question, after years of observation, multiple hypothesis, well-structured analysis and deeply reviewed interpretations,  my friends and apparently Charlie have finally came to the conclusion that I'M NOT NORMAL.  I like my children safe and sound.  I like to make sure they're not bored and are having a good time.  I like to make sure that when they venture out at night when it's dark that they don't do it alone, and I enjoy 'family time,' playing games like bocci ball, croquet and swimming.  I want them to know how much I love them, and give them all the attention I humanly can.  I also think that a boy must pass a breathalyzer, drug test, lie detector, back-ground check and psych evaluation in order to qualify for a first date with my girl.  It seems that this is not what a responsible, loving, caring step parent or parent is supposed to do.  We're supposed to give our children freedom to do as they choose and go wherever they please at any time they want.  I'm not suppose to worry about them getting hurt or kidnapped.  Oooops.  My mistake.

I've learned some things about me during our visit with Charlie-Anne though.  Even with our opposing views on how I should 'behave,' I love her no matter what.  When she was unhappy, I cried in private.  I love her a tiny, smidgen, half a millimeter less then I love my own son, something Dayton's not crazy about, but I can't help myself.  I think she's the most beautiful girl on the face of this planet.  I think she deserves more than I can give her, and whether she likes it or not, I don't think there's a male on this planet that is good enough for her.  I suppose I love her as though she was my own daughter.  She somehow completes my family, and without her, I feel truly sad.  I just wish she had a little more patience for me and how I think.  Speaking about the way they think...

I've been trying to teach Dayton how to tie his shoes for the past three years.  I figured the easiest way was to teach him the two bunny ears way, you know, the two loops, cross them and flip one 'bunny ear' into the whole and voila!  You have a tied shoe.  He just couldn't get the hang of it.

After coming home from shopping for school supplies for both Dayton and Charlie, I asked Charlie if she wouldn't mind showing Dayton how to tie his shoes, as Dayton desperately wanted to wear his new shoes outside and show his buddies.  I told him if he learned how to tie them, he could wear them...  Charlie showed him once and taught him for a whole five minutes...  and Dayton tied his shoes!!!  Wow!!!  He really did it!!!  I was thrilled!!!  I watched him tie his shoes and thought the way he did it was tricky, but Charlie-Anne said that she thought the bunny ears way was too tricky...  Obviously, so did Dayton, and so does their dad...  Way too many similarities.  The only difference between Charlie-Anne and Dayton is Dayton's pervasiveness over words, toys and activities.  Also, Dayton's communication skills are obviously weaker and his understanding of feelings.

Now if I can just get the girl to understand my feelings...  Walking away from this vacation, I learned that raising children is like raising monkeys on acid.  You just don't know what they're thinking and have no idea what they're going to say or do next.  All you know is that you should brace yourself, cause it's gonna be a roller coaster ride.  Autism or no autism, children are wild!

Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

What Happens At The Camp Fire, Stays At The Camp Fire

What happens at the camp fire, stays at the camp fire, unless you go camping with me ;)

There are no realistic written camping guides out there.  All the lying, glossy brochures capture a super happy dad, reeling a huge fish in, wearing a baseball hat, sun glasses, shorts and a tee shirt.  There's a care free mom with her happy go lucky children, all wearing big smiles, as warm and fuzzy as the hot sunshine, secluded in a small paradise.  Ever notice how the moms are all young, slim and tanned, belonging on a Vogue magazine?  Some are even pictured tubing or water skiing.  The children are pictured smiling around a campfire, singing songs and roasting marshmallows.

It never rains on the covers of camping guides.  Mother is never shown sweating over the picnic table, frantically protecting the food from rain, or running after a toddler running the opposite direction of the washrooms.  To answer your question, no.  I don't have a toddler, but the campers next door to us sure did, and what a little rascal he was, LOL.  Made me grateful for Dayton's current age.  The mother is never shown waving with her arm held high, with the fat under her arm waving right back at her.  I'd also like to add that the brochures do not mention ticks, and yes, we most certainly did encounter quite a few of those.  My poor Dayton got two of them on the same day on the back of his neck.  Grandpa got one on his belly, and Glen...  This one's funny...

Just after we all go to our beds for the night, Glen crawls out of his bed, walks over to mine and wakes me up.  "Check this out!"  In a sleepy haze, I see a brown spot on the top of his wrist.  "Congratulations, you have a birth mark, now go back to your bed.  Show your dad tomorrow.  I'm sure he'll be super impressed."
"Seriously, check this out..."  I rub my eyes and look a little closer.  It looked like a flat body of a spider with really short feet.  "It's a tick," Glen says.
"Well, what do you want me to do?  You know I hate bugs...  get away from me."
"I need to set it on fire."
Now, you'd know how comical this is if you'd ever met Glen.  He's a hairy guy.  I mean Chubaka hairy.  I pray to God my baby doesn't get to be as hairy, but between my genes and Glen's (my arms are so hairy, I shave them in the summer, this summer I'm thinking of waxing), I'm sure my little monkey man doesn't stand a chance.

I hear mom roll over on her bed.  "Want some matches?"
"Yeah, that should do it.  Thanks."  I'm wide awake now, trying to contain my laughter, waiting for Glen to set himself on fire.  He lights the match, blows out the flame and presses the burned end of the match to the tick.  I'm thinking "dang it!  No fire and dance of pain tonight."  With the first attempt failing, Glen tries it again, and again, and again.  Finally, after four tries, some singed wrist hair, and this all frustrated look, he announces he's pulling the tick out.  I thought he should have done this to begin with, but what do I know.  This was the first time I'd seen a tick up close. 

After pulling the tick out, Glen says he's got to kill it.  The only way to kill it is to set it on fire.  Would you believe this thing is fire resistant!!!  It just would not catch on fire.  I finally drowned it in the sink.  "Good night everyone.  See you in the morning."  That was our first night camping.

Our second day at camp, it rained all day.  Dayton was losing his mind.  He was getting bored, and towards the evening, I allowed him to run around the campfire to do a "sun dance."  In the process he ran and knocked over the propane lantern.  To say that Glen was a little 'miffed' would be an understatement.  Poor kid.  I further aggravated Glen by pointing out one of the camper's drawers was busted.  Even with two grown men, the drawer still needs repair.  We ended the night playing the Phase 10 card game and went to bed.

The Lord must have felt we deserved some sun shine, so our last full camp day we enjoyed some nice weather.  The couple next door to us (not the ones with the toddler, the other side of us ;), had a little girl camping with them.  The couple seemed nice, and threw bacon to Glen and mom, no doubt feeling sorry for the beggars smelling their cooking and screaming "bacon, bacon, bacon!  Bacon good!"  The couple (Gwen and Brian) seemed nice enough, so I talked to them and their daughter Alysha.  Turns out Alysha is the same age as Dayton, a few months older and a grade ahead of Dayton, but still!  A girl Dayton's age!  Playing her Nintendo DS!!!  Dayton came out of the camper with his DS and when he saw Alysha playing her DS, I swear, his jaw dropped.  I invited Alysha to come on over to our campsite with her DS.  The two of them were attached at the hip for the rest of our camping trip. 

Dayton and AlyshaAlysha's an amazing little girl.  I say amazing because Dayton just doesn't play with other children very well.  It always ends in a physical fight, or at the very least, a nasty argument.  But not with Alysha.  No meltdown, no anger, only bliss.  So wonderful!!!  I just had to exchange contact information with Gwen and Brian.  If they hadn't given their contact information, I was prepared to follow them home, no joke.  They're a great bunch of people!!!  Did I mention their daughter is amazing?  They made our camping trip so much fun!  They're a great couple, with an awesome sense of humor.  So easy to get along with.  Not many people like them left around.

Hope everyone else had a memorable May long weekend ;)
As always, consider yourselves hugged,


Lou

CFS, Friend or Foe?

Many of us think of CFS (Child and Family Services) as the devil who comes and takes our children away, but did you know they offer other services?

Turns out they can be used to advocate for your children in their school!  I had no clue!

Do to Dayton's behavior, his current school has called CFS twice in the last year.  It's super embarrassing, and as I cried and threw a temper tantrum only a parent who's been in this horrifying position can appreciate, the worker sitting across from me sympathized with my situation.  Upon hearing what the school had to say, then listen to my incoherent babble and interviewing Dayton, the file was closed immediately.  Before leaving their offices, the worker asked me how she could be of help to Dayton and I, and of course my first answer was to find us a new school, a school that specialized in helping children with autism.  Of course, her answer to me is an all too familiar answer most of us hear when we ask our selves where to find a school that can appreciate our little ones pattern of thought.  "I'm afraid there just isn't any such school in Winnipeg...  But, I do have another idea..."
"I'm all ears!!!"
"How about we find a worker who will advocate for Dayton within the school system?"
"Seriously?!  You do that?"
"Yes."
"Sign me up!!!"
And she did.

In less then two weeks I got a phone call from a worker who was a temp, but offered his services right away.  He came to my home, and I asked Dayton's social worker, Diana from children with special needs and disabilities to come join us for our first appointment.  I mean, CFS was coming to my house, and they're the devil, right?  I needed someone at the door to stop Satan if he tried to take my baby away, and Diana is afraid of no one.  At least I think...

Anyways, the appointment went super well!  A little uncomfortable at first, and I was totally, brutally honest with the guy, I told him it's strange working with someone who could potentially come in my home, not like my smile and take my baby, but he assured me CFS wants to work with families to keep families together.  Another thought he had offered me was that having CFS come to Dayton's IEP meetings at the school shows I have a relationship with CFS and the school can not use CFS as threat when I'm bringing CFS to them!  I liked this guy.

He hooked me up with some counseling, which I thought I didn't really need, but you know what?  I think most of us with kids on the spectrum need someone to talk to, someone who will listen to us without judgement, and someone we can vent at.  We all love our kids, no doubt about that, I would give my life for Dayton's in a blink of an eye, but there are days where my patients runs on empty, and I just need a break from having to explain every single thing...  Just a little, tiny break... 

It was during this counseling that I learned that someone from the school division that has an understanding of autism should be involved in the IEP process, and furthermore, should be included in the IEP meetings!  I've never had anyone from the school division included in the IEP meetings, and the only people present were the principal, school guidance counselor, the resource teacher and then of course Dayton's team:  his behavioral specialist I work with at home and of course Diana, Dayton's social worker from children with special needs and disabilities, and let's not forget me, his mama.  I don't go to a school meeting without these two ladies, as I need their support to make it through a meeting with this school.

One more thing...  they have family support workers!  Depending on your income, they may charge you for this service, but since I'm on sick leave from work, our worker isn't charging us.  The family support worker comes to our home once a week for an hour and a half.  She provides us with information and is a sound board for me.

By having a relationship with CFS, I'm walking away with an advocate for Dayton in the school system, a counselor for myself, a proper IEP meeting where the school is accountable for what happens at school, and a family service worker.  None of these things would have come about without my CFS worker.


Another plus, every email I get from the school and respond to, I forward to Brenda, my CFS worker.  Everything is documented by her, so if there are any issues, she will take care of them.  She's so strong!  And if I have a concern with the school and email then, I make sure they see Brenda's being emailed as well.  I get a response from the school immediately.  Brenda's email address carries a lot of weight behind it. 

Friend or Foe?

For more information on what services they offer, follow this link: /index.html http://www.gov.mb.ca/fs/pwd/index.html.
To contact the Family Support Coordinator, call 204-944-4369.



Consider yourselves hugged!

Lou