Executive Decision Making

Divorce...  It's horrible.  He said, she said.  He hurt, she hurt.  He's right, she's right.  Friends who really are not friends (there's a message for you folks at the end of this post).  Money...   I've heard so much crap, my ears are constipated.  And who's left in the middle?  The child.

Divorce is hard enough as it is.  And for the child stuck in the middle, it's even harder.  Parents playing tug of war and using the poor kid as a pawn in the game of thrones happens because both parents figure they know their child best.  Each parent thinks they can do better than the other, and I'll be the first to admit that I feel I can do better than Dayton's dad.  And Dayton's dad thinks he can do better than I can.  Our so called 'mutual friends' are making things worse for Dayton's dad, 'spying' on me on Autism Diva Help and on facebook...  So here we are, with Dayton stuck in the middle.


Seeing my son go through pain is the hardest thing I think I've ever gone through. Especially when everything is out of my hands and I can't help control it (no, I'm not a control freak...  will explain in a bit).


Dentist appointments and child psychologist appointments done separately just doesn't work.  One of the parents needs to stay in charge of these medical issues, it should not be another thing to argue about.  The parent who primarily was in charge in the past should continue to remain in charge, because that is what's best for the child.  The parent who wasn't involved in past has every right to be involved, but should never just take the rains and go their own way because they feel they have "the right" to do this.

But that's a pipe dream.  In reality...  Well...  Oy vey...

Dayton's dad made a decision to take Dayton to the dentist, which I agreed should happen, as long as Dayton went to Children's Dental World which is known to have had good results with children on the autism spectrum.  Instead, Glen made an appointment for Dayton at a location of his choice, then cancelled the appointment because I was coming as I promised Dayton that both daddy and I would be there to support him.  Then when I was done arguing with Glen and text him that he should keep the dental appointment for Dayton as Dayton needed the appointment more than he needed mommy there, Glen re-schedules and then says I'm welcome to come?!  Oy vey...

Long story short, Glen tries to hush me as I explain to the receptionist that Dayton has high functioning autism and oral sensory issues...  No surprise to me, the dentist is not able to do much due to Dayton's sensory issues, including gag reflex.  His back molars may have cavities in them as Dayton's not able to brush the very back of his mouth.  Sooooo...  the dentist refers Dayton to Children's Dental World...  I know...

While this experience infuriated me, as Dayton had to go through discomfort for no reason other than his father's "right" to take him to a dentist, some good did come out of this.  I think his dad sees that I'm not trying to be a control freak.  I think he's starting to see that I am not looking at our son as a pawn in our life, and that while yes, I am a protective mother (my motto:  A mother would kill for her child, die for her child and forgive for her child...  I would do all three at the same time for my son's safety, health and happiness), I'm really not the pathetic, clingy ex-wife he's made me out to be.  I think he finally understands that I don't want him back in my life, and that what I really want is what's best for my baby.  While he may hate me, I think he finally sees that I do know what Dayton's limitations are and what he really needs...  At least that's what I'm choosing to walk away with this weekend.

Oh, and I've learned facebook is the devil.  It appears our mutual friends are adding fuel to the fire by sharing what I have to say on facebook with Dayton's dad.  For example:

My Divorce Party Cake

I'm sorry there are 'friends' out there that are offended by my sense of humour, but I thought this was hilarious!  At this time in my life, I need a good laugh.  I'm certainly not the first, nor will I be the last woman on earth going through a divorce.  To my 'concerned friends,' this too shall pass...  And, keep in mind, sometimes, when you try to help, you're actually making things worse.  Gossiping about me to Dayton's dad and telling them what my thoughts of the day are is really not helping him, it's just making him bitter.  While yes, it causes an argument between us, it is Dayton that pays the price for your stupidity.  Focus your energies on helping the guy, not making him feel worse.  So...  You don't like what I have to say, don't look at my work.  It's really that simple.  In the mean time...
Consider yourselves hugged,


Lou

Layin' The Smack Down On Their Rootie Poo Candy A...

Normally, I have no problems with Dayton's behavior at home, with the exception of a few typical boy moments that happen when playing with his buddies outside.

We live in a beautiful condo complex that is in a park like setting, with an outdoor swimming pool and two playgrounds for the kids to play on.  We're surrounded by trees, shrubs, and manicured lawns.  We love living here, especially since everyone is so friendly.  We walk patio to patio, joining others who live here for a game of yahtzee or play cards, or simply shoot the breeze.  It's such a relaxing atmosphere, and it almost feels like we're camping in cottages at a resort, minus the maid service and beach.  I've thought of buying a house, but Dayton and I love living here...  I don't think either one of us want to give up the friends we've made and our easy access to them.  All Dayton and I need to do is walk outside into our back yard, and his friends are sure to come out within minutes.  If they don't, we walk ten steps to their door step and ring the door bell.  The moms hang out and have coffee while the kids play.  Living here has offered us plenty of interaction with others, a huge help for Dayton to practice some 'social skills' in the natural animal kingdom outside of school.

Dayton's made three really good after school buddies, and as a result of these friendships, I've managed to make friends with two of the moms, strong friendships that I cherish very much.  One of the boys is the same age as Dayton and goes to a different school, another boy is two years older at eleven years old, and the third boy is turning seven at the end of the month.  With exception of the eleven year old, the rest of the boys are crazy hyper, the youngest also being a wee bit on the 'mouthy' side.  Gives me an insight as to why some species eat their young...  The nine year old friend has been diagnosed with ADHD, and also has had troubles in reading and writing.  The shared diagnosis makes the two of them understand each other very well.  The two of them also get in the same kind of trouble with the rest of the kids...

So, last night, Dayton and the boys were playing hockey outside.  For some reason 'unknown' to the rest of the kids, Dayton grabbed the nine year old's hockey stick and threw it over the fence surrounding the swimming pool.  Of course, the boys got angry with Dayton...  Next thing I know, my boy is climbing the fence...  Holly crap!  Naturally, I lost my ever living mind!  The pool is covered with a tarp under which there is water.  He could have fallen in, and of course I would have made thing worse by jumping in to save my baby...  I can't even think about it, it just makes me sick.

Screaming and yelling and freaking out, I grounded Dayton without waiting to hear his explanation.  Autism or not, impulse issues or not, ADHD or not, global delays or not, I've told Dayton many, many times to never, EVER climb the fence and jump over it.  He's made the attempt before and I've always caught him in the act, but last night it was a friend that caught him, not me.  She called my cell phone to alert me, knowing my cell is attached to my hip at all times.  Dusk was upon us, making it difficult to see...

Freaking out I grabbed his hand and dragged him home, screaming at him how grounded he was and demanding to know what he was thinking, knowing all I would get is "I don't know," his usual answer (which naturally made me even angrier).  Screaming like a banshee, totally freaking out, I told him to go to his room, get ready for bed and hand over the playstation.  Grabbing the playstation, I left him in his room and walked away...  What I really wanted to do was lay the smack down on his rootie-poo candy a$$.

Later on I found out that the nine year old stole Dayton's hard earned cash...  $10.00 to be exact.  The brat took Dayton's two $5.00 bills and gave one to the seven year old.  The seven year old told Dayton about this, and Dayton lost it, grabbed the brat's hockey stick and threw it over the fence into the pool court yard, knowing it was locked and they couldn't get it back.  The hockey stick's owner let Dayton know that he would get in trouble, because now an adult had to unlock the lock on the door to get his hockey stick.  He suggested that since Dayton threw the hockey stick, he should go and get it to avoid getting in trouble.  Terrified, Dayton then risked jumping the fence to get the hockey stick.

Argh...  Dayton still climbed the fence...  Even though I understand now why he did it, doesn't mean he should escape punishment, does it?  Grrrrrr...  The danger is very real.  He could die.  If I don't remain firm on the grounding, he'll do it again, not learning anything from this incident. 

Making things even more interesting:
"Dayton, did you confront your buddy for taking your money?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he knew he stole from me."
"Did you tell him that YOU know that HE stole your money?"
"No." 
"Dayton, does he know what made you throw his hockey stick over the fence?"
"Yes, because he stole my money."
"OK, but you said you didn't speak to him about him stealing your money."
"I didn't."
"Then how does he know what made you throw his hockey stick..."
"'Cuz he knows he stole my money!!!" 


I somehow have to get it through to Dayton that he needs to use his words, not act out...  Two wrongs don't make a right.  Any advice out there???  I could really use some!

It's gonna be a looooong weekend...



Consider yourselves hugged, and yeah, I'm stealing one for myself too,

Lou

What Happens At The Camp Fire, Stays At The Camp Fire, Unless You Read Autism Diva

I've missed most of the summer do to Glenda (the blasted kidney stone), but I'm finally free of it!  Of course it took a second procedure where good 'ole Doogie Howser put a stint in me the day before our camping trip which kind of put a damper on the first day of camping as I could barely walk, but what a fantastic time camping!!! 

The best part of this camping trip was that it was a family affair.  Grandma and Grandpa Paul and Kathleen came all the way from Wisconsin, cousin Evan and his seven month pregnant wife Kim came with my step daughter (I can't stand that term, so I call her my girl) Charlie-Anne from Regina, and finally cousin Niel and his pregnant wife Kim (yup, we had two Kims!) and their two adorable daughters.  My friend Shelley and her son Evan (Dayton's buddy) came and joined us and lodged in our camper too.  The boys had a fantastic time!

I, on the other hand, was tormented by my shunt.  Having to endure it for a week, I gave up three days into the trip, not caring about the consequences.  Thank goodness I did, INSTANT RELIEF!  Wooooo-hooooooooooooo!!!  Time for FUN!!!  And fun we had...

We exercised...  Especially Evan and Evan...  (Yup, had two Evans there too)

We fed the deer...

We pet the deer...  Seems the deer thought Charlie-Anne was safe...  Little did they know she's going to apply for her FAC as she wants to hunt them...

We stalked the deer...

Dayton, Evan and Charlie-Anne rode their Harley Choppers...

Dayton, Evan and Grandpa Paul went out with the metal detector to find our pot of gold...

We played board games...

We laughed so loud we had complaints every night...  I'm surprised we didn't get banned from the camp ground.  It really wasn't our fault...  There was a fire ban in effect, which meant that everyone BUT us went to bed at 11pm.  I mean seriously...  It's camping!  Who goes to bed that early CAMPING?  No music, no fire, no hiking (not that I'm into hiking, just would have been nice to have had the option in case I decided to go on a diet and exercise regime...  you know?)...  Anyhow, our neighbors hated us.  It seemed we were too red necked for 'em all.  Oh well... We did manage to make a couple of friends that were even louder than us.  The girls came to visit two nights during our trip.  Turns our one of them works at my bank...

We goofed off...

And even got a little scary...

And made time for cuddling!

We had a lot of fun, and I wish we could have stayed longer...  But, unfortunately, life's responsibilities continue, and so we're back home.
Time to get ready for the new school year...  Ugh!!!


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

When, Heaven Forbid, Chocolate Fails, Try A Margarita.

Yup.  I'm having one of them days.  I love my friends, I really, really do, but the friends that are not autism parents tend to drive me nuts sometimes.  It's not their fault, really.  They're not faced with autism the way I am every day.  They don't understand, nor do they need to.  But there are times where I really wish they'd keep their freaking opinions to themselves, know what I mean?

"What Dayton really needs a good swift kick in the butt."
Yeah...  I felt like shoving my foot up this victim's butt, but unfortunately I got whiplash from whipping my head to face her.
"He's not autistic, he looks fine."
"He's a little hyper, you medicate him for that, right?"  While in the same sentence she asks me if I forgot to give him his meds this morning.
"Oh well...  I've heard of kids not really speaking until they hit five, cause they have nothing to say.  Wasn't it Einstein that didn't talk till he was five?  He made out well, didn't he?"
"Dayton's a lot smarter than you give him credit for.  He's a bright kid, you just need to stop using the "autism card."
"You baby Dayton way too much.  You should let him play outside without you sitting there watching him like a hawk.  How is he suppose to become self sufficient when you won't let him fight his own battles?"  (This coming from the same mom that told me that Dayton's not allowed to play with her son because Dayton always ends up hurting him).
After Dayton gets into a fight with another child:  "What that boy needs is a good spank."  Then I turn around and tell the parent:  "If you could teach your kid some manners and have him stop calling my child a retard, Dayton wouldn't have had to defend himself."
"Dayton's not autistic Lou, he's just like any other kid."  Really?  Is that why he rings your door bell and laughs when you answer it?  Most children would say "hey, can I play with little Joey?"  Not Dayton...  He rings the door bell and laughs when the person answers it, not knowing what to say, or what his purpose is. 
My all time favorite comes from Dayton's school...  "what Dayton needs is some DISCIPLINE."  Hmmmm, yes, I can see how his autism would go away, he just needs some discipline. 

Let's take a look at an example, shall we?  It's summer!!!  On our way to the beach, just a short distance away, how many of us have walked on gravel because we're just to lazy to lace up our shoes...  It's only a few steps, no biggy, right?  All the way, you're thinking "ouch, ouch, ouch, should have put my damn shoes on.  In what moment of insanity did I think walking bare foot on hot coals from hell was a brilliant idea?"  Well, autism is kind of like that, in that it keeps a parent on their toes, but for children like Dayton who are undersensative and need more stimulation that others, he can run through that same hot gravel.  His pain threshold is super high, and sometimes scary.  For instance, last year's May long weekend's camping trip ended up with Dayton breaking his foot in three different places by jumping from the top of the play structure to the ground.  In tears (which rarely happens), he tells me his foot hurts.  I brush the tears away, examine his foot which looks just fine, comfort as much as he will allow me, and ask him "babe, would you feel better and stop crying if I get you some ice cream?"  He nodded a brave yes, and wiped the rest of his tears away.  He stopped crying immediately!  I sat beside him and watch him lick his ice cream, smiling away.  He seemed happy and carefree, confirming my suspicion that he was 'just fine.'

He limped all the way back to our campsite, but by evening, he was running around in circles!  Holly cow!  We went home the next day, and at bed time I saw his foot was swollen a tiny bit, but Dayton didn't complain.  He went to school the next day, limping a little, and I felt guilty going to work, but figured he was OK.  After work, I decided it wouldn't hurt to have his foot examined by a doctor.  Sure enough, it was broken in three places...  Had it been me, I'd have been crying, screaming, raging in pain, writhing on the floor and refusing to get up, in essence, having a melt down.  There's no way I'd be able to put my shoe on, never mind run around with a busted foot.

Today, I left Dayton with a babysitter and went out with a girlfriend for a little me time.  About an hour into me time, I get a call from the babysitter...  Dayton got sick and vomit all over her sofa...  He then walked across to the love seat, and tried wiping the vomit onto the love seat, trying to hide the fact that he got sick because he wanted to go swimming.  Just thinking that a neurotypical kid of nine years old would probably get a cloth to wipe up the vomit...   He then told his babysitter that the "cat puked."  I asked to speak to Dayton, who told me he was feeling fantastic:  "Momma, please tell Amy to take me swimming!!!  I wanna swim!!!  I'm feeling good momma.  I don't know what happened."

He was fine all day, running around like the mad little monkey only my son can imitate.  After talking to Amy, she said my man was typical Dayton, running around, stopped long enough to get sick (less than a minute), then started running again!  Hmmmmm...  Really shouldn't be surprising to me.  I can't even count how many times I was called by Dayton's school to come and pick him up early because he wasn't feeling well, sometimes as early as half an hour into his first class!  By the time I got him home, he was back to normal.  How many neurotypical kids can do that?

So, today, when my friend tried to convince me that Dayton doesn't have autism, that I need to stop treating him differently and stop using the "autism card" for everything he does, I had some chocolate.  It didn't work, I wanted a cigarette so badly, but I've been trying to quit smoking, so I turned to the next best thing.  As soon as my friends hear the blender going, they know I'm having a margarita, which means whatever they've just told me has not been appreciated.  I made two, brought it out to the patio, but my friend ran off.  Maybe she thought I'd dump a margarita over her head?  She knows me so well!  Oh well, more for me!!!


Consider yourselves hugged,

Lou

The Autism Creed

Grandma Karen...  darling, witty, charismatic, funny and loving Dayton to a fault grandma Karen.  I think out of all the people that have a relationship with my son, grandma Karen actually "gets" Dayton.  She seems to know how he thinks, she's quick to come up with disciplinary actions that make sense and are not degrading to Dayton and have an affect on him, and loves him unconditionally.  I am very fortunate to have her support, and so is Dayton.  He loves her right back.  Autism can make for a lonely life, but thanks to grandma Karen, I'm not lonely.  Over time, she's become my voice of reason.  


So, funny Karen had posted a funny on my facebook page, called the "Toddler's Creed," asking me to substitute Dayton's name for Toddler.  Here it is:

Toddler's Creed

If I want it, it's mine.
If I give it to you and change my mind later, it's mine.
If I take it away from you, it's mine.
...If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
If it's mine, it will never belong to anybody else, no matter what.
If we are building something together, all the pieces are mine.  If it looks just like mine, it's mine.

Notice any similarities with your child?  How true it is for Dayton!!!  

"If I want it, it's mine."  How many times did I get an email from school, telling me how Dayton took someones pop, juice, chocolate bar, etc...

"If I give it to you and I change my mind later, it's mine."  Ugh.  I hate this one.  Dayton has 'traded' Pokemon cards and parts of his bayblades, only to throw a fit later because he wants his stuff back.  Trying to explain that 'trading' means you're giving up your stuff for the stuff you 'traded' for is pointless sometimes.  So I've made it a rule for all the kids to know...  NO TRADING. 


"If I take it away from you, it's mine."  Ummm, need I say more?  Holly crap, happens all the time!  The other day Dayton's playing with his buddy's Pokemon Black Nintendo DS games.  When his buddy shows up at our place to play with Dayton, he sees the game and has a meltdown of his own.  "That's my game Dayton!  I've been looking for it everywhere!!!"  
"It's mine!"
"No it isn't!  The character's name is Tommy, that's MY NAME!!!  And he's done all the levels I've done with my character.  This is MY GAME!!!  You stole it from me!  I'm not your friend anymore!!!"


"If I had it a little while ago, it's mine."  Yes, visiting a friend or playing outside sharing toys with the other kids, we run into this ALL THE TIME.  The boys on the playground are playing with life savers (I think that's what they're called...  they're those light sword things from Star Wars.  Anyway...  Dayton drops it on the ground, Evan picks it up, and it's all out war.  "That's mine Evan!!!"
"No, it's Tommy's!"
"Give it back Evan, NOW!!!"
You get how it ends...


"If it's mine, it will never belong to anyone else, no matter what."  Just recently, I gave one of Dayton's six year old friends Dayton's old pajamas...  Holly spaz!!!  "Dayton, the pajamas haven't fit you since you were seven!!!  (He's nine years old now)  Just let Evan have them!!!"
"No, they're mine!"
"Dayton, you don't like to wear pajamas!!!  You never wear them!"
"They're mine and I said NO!!!"


"If we are building something together, all the pieces are mine."  I don't know how many times I've emptied Dayton's pant pockets before putting them in the wash, to find little pieces of daycare or school lego.  "It's mine!!!"  
"Dayton, we don't have Star Wars lego!"
"But Johnny and I built it together, it's mine..."
Ugh.  I'm not sure if some trading's taking place or if it belongs to the school or daycare, and I'm too tired to fight after making Dayton do his reading...  


"If it looks just like mine, it's mine."  Hmmmm...  This one happened just last night.  
"No Dayton, that's my camping chair!!!"  Screams Evan at the top of his lungs.  I look over and sure enough, the boys are playing tug of war with this fold up chair, and I'm trying to get to them as fast as I can, holding my kidney in place before it explodes.  Sure enough, Dayton wins the tug of war, and in the process grazes Evan's face with one of the legs of the chair.  Tears explode out of Evan and the water works begin.  "DAYTON HIT ME IN THE FACE!!!"  
Evan doesn't care if it was an accident or not, he's six years old, to him there is no such thing as an accident, it's all intentional.  I love this boy as though he was my own, so tears well up in my eyes too.  The pain in my kidney intensifies and my mind goes fuzzy.  I wish I could have got to them sooner, so no one got hurt.  Evan's chair looks EXACTLY like Dayton's.  My mistake.  I figured if I bought the boys the same kind of chair, there would be no fighting...  Boy was I wrong.


Oh well.  One day, my little prince will learn through natural consequences that this kind of behavior will lose him friends.  I hope.  In the mean time, I'm the mamma outside at the playground, sitting in my camping chair, supervising his play, in pain or not.  




Consider yourselves hugged,


Lou

Are We There Yet??? How about now?

Holly crap...  Swan River, population 4,500.  6 and a half hour drive from Winnipeg.  It's not like I can turn around and go home if Dayton throws a fit, ya know what I mean?  So before our drive out to visit my best friends Danielle and her husband Lindsay, I ask Dayton to pack a few things he doesn't want to leave behind...

"How do I pack Jack (he's talking about our cat)?"
"We're not taking Jack with us buddy, Dani has 2 cats, and they probably won't like Jack invading their territory."
"How am I going go get to sleep without Jack (Dayton always cuddles up with Jack at bed time)?"
Darn it.  Hadn't thought that one through and I need to think fast...
"Take Zeus (a stuffed cat Dayton helped make)...
"He doesn't smell like Jack!"
And then we have a slight melt down.  Eventually, Dayton begins packing his things lining up his belongings in the hallway.  I ask him to store his belongings under the kitchen table so we don't trip over his things.

I wake up in the morning to a mountain of toys under my table, two of Dayton's blankets, two of his pillows, a blanket and a pillow for me (how thoughtful), and requests for "Danone Crush Yogurt" to take with us in case Swan River doesn't have any...  Oh, don't forget about the cheese strings and "Jello" pudding snacks, the "Canadian Rye Bread" and the "Nutella..."

It takes me three trips to the car to get all of Dayton's belongings into the car.  Right about this time I'm thinking "in what moment of insanity did I decide a trip to Swan River would be a great idea?"  And then I remember I haven't seen Dani since Christmas, and Lindsay for a year and a half!!!  Right.  It's mommy time, just forgot how much work it takes to get out the door.

About an hour into our drive, and we make it to Portage, and of course I hear "I'm hungry, I'm thirsty."  We stop at a Tim Horton's and I very much need a coffee...

Fifteen minutes after leaving the Tim Horton's, I hear "I have to go pee."  In another hour I hear "Are we there yet?"  And then I get lost.  I find my way back on the right highway, and I make it!  Hooray!!!

Danielle comes outside and helps me unload the car after giving me a huge hug, which I desperately need after that car ride.  Dayton spills out of the car with his Nintendo DSI and I grab as much as I can carry, leaving one of Dayton's boxes of toys in the car, thinking if he really wants it, I'll run back out and get it.  Danielle takes as much as she can carry too, looks at me and says "Wow, if I had to pack that much for just a two day visit, I don't think I'd go anywhere..."

She says this in awe of my efforts to make Dayton comfortable.  Danielle is the most supportive person I've met in my struggle with Dayton's autism.  She's constantly emailing me and facebooking me websites, groups, therapies, information and books on autism.  On days when I feel down, I know I can email or call either Danielle or Lindsay, and that I can anticipate them cheerleading for us.

Danielle has started a blog challenging herself to read 101 books in 1001 days. If you love reading, you need to check out her blog at http://101booksin1001days-danielle.blogspot.com/.  During one of my visits to her blog, she had posted on reading a book called "House Rules."


Addicted to my Kindle now, I have to download this book, especially since Dani has said that even though the book is fiction, the main character of the book reminds her of my struggles with Dayton and another one of her friends who also has a son diagnosed with ASD.

So while I waited in the evening for Dayton to settle down and go to sleep, I read this book on my Kindle.  I have to say, it is a work of fiction, but I did enjoy reading it.  It may not have accurately have portraid a person with Asperger's syndrome, I haven't met anyone quite as afflicted as Jacob, the main character, but I can relate to Emma, Jacob's mother.  Emma's daily schedules in helping Jacob cope with his disability can be echoed by any parent of a child with ASD.  Mustering all her strength and energy, she fights for her son's rights and to "mainstream" Jacob as well as she humanly can.  This comes to a great expense not only financially, but in her personal relationships as well, of which she has none... 

I can relate to this woman, I really, really can.  Emma's description of her battle with Jacob's school sounds all too familiar:  "being an advocate for your autistic child's education is a forty-hour-a-week profession in and of itself.  All sorts of adaptations had to be argued for and vigilantly monitored:  a cool off pass that would allow Jacob to leave a classroom that got too overwhelming for him; a sensory break room; a paraprofessional who could help him, as an elementary school student, put his thoughts into writing; an individualized education plan; a school counselor who didn't roll her eyes every time Jacob had a meltdown."  Holly crap!  That's me!  That's probably most parents with children who have autism in Canada, unless of course you live in Alberta, but perhaps even there?  Fiction or not, this part of the book unfortunately rings true for most of us.

Which again makes me ask:  "Is inclusion really what's best?  I get the theory of inclusion, I really do, but I know for a fact my son is not experiencing "genuine inclusion," you know, the theory kind.  What we've experienced is very similar to what Emma (yes, she's a fictional character, I know) has experienced, only Dayton still doesn't have a cool off pass or a sensory room, and he can't read or write...  and why is it up to me to educate Dayton's teachers and principal, especially when they don't listen to a word I say because they know what works, and yet call me to "fix it" when their way fails?

Fiction or not, this book seriously struck a note with me.  Again, this book is not an autism help book, it is a work of fiction, but some of the book is very much a reality for me, and I'm going to bet for many parents out there.  If you have a Kindle, let me know, and once I figure out how to "lend" it to you, I will.  Kindle's allow you to "lend" a book to someone for up to two weeks.

Back to my visit with Dani and Lindsay...  It was awesome!!!  Dayton did super well, without having a meltdown at all!!!  He busied himself playing video games while Dani and I yapped.  Dani's husband Lindsay joined us a few times, but let the hens fend for themselves for the majority of the time.  We ate like there was no tomorrow (well I did at least, putting myself into a pizza comma my last night there).  I really liked Swan River's Chicken Chef.  Not the chicken, but the pizza....  yum!!!

Dayton and I got to meet Dani's new kitty "Theo."  He was adorable and super playful.  Really liked chewing on my toes as I slept, but he was just too cute to get mad at.

Dani also informed me that Glen's accusation of my severe snoring like a "Banshee" is very much true.  How embarrassing...  Oh well.  She's my best friend, so she accepts me along with my quirks.  Even more important than that, both Lindsay and Dani accept Dayton as he is.  As a parent, nothing is more important than that.  I'm eternally grateful for their friendship.

Dayton and I gave their daughter a ride back to Winnipeg for Spring Break.  The ride home was much, much shorter.  Dayton kept his head covered for most of the way home, and it took us 5 hours (Yes, of course there was speeding involved).

Overall, we had a great little break to start off our Spring Break.  How about you?



Consider yourselves hugged!

Lou