The Strange Silence

If you're ever at our house and you don't hear anything for a few minutes that is not necessarily a good thing. A strange silence usually means of one of three things is taking place:

1. A pooping of the pants.

2. The Doodle is into something he shouldn't be.

3. Pooping while getting into something, a real bonus.

As much as I hate taking the Doodle's fun away, we finally smartened up and put a lock on the pantry door.
And while I really enjoy cleaning up full boxes of dumped out cereal and crackers all over the house, there will be no more of this in the bedroom...

The Doodle will have to concentrate his efforts on the refrigerator and freezer now.

We've Been Elfed!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I Said NO.

And, I'm going to keep saying it. It's hard this parenting thing;






















especially parenting an autistic child.

Lately the Doodle has been really hard. And behaving badly. And that's most of the time.

He's out of control and he's only 3.

You wouldn't know it by this picture but he's the Dickens.

I think he goes in and out of anxiety attacks and doesn't know how to deal with what he's feeling. You can see it coming on and sometimes there is no trigger or reason. He breathes differently. He gets overly excited. He runs around the house, flapping more than usual and then...

he throws anything in his path. I've seen him clear a table full of dishes. Sometimes it's just because he's been told NO.

He hates that word.
If you just met him you would think what a brat! Actually, even those who know him think, what a brat! But we cut him a little slack because of the autism and the seizures and knowing it must be hard to be a Doodle Bug.

His teachers and nurse think he must be getting frustrated because he can't communicate and talk. I think that might be part of it but it's hard to tell what is bad behavior and what is autism. The lines are so blurred I don't know which end is up anymore.

We seriously chase him around the house telling him NO. All he hears from us all day long is:

"No. Stop it. Put that back. Don't touch that. Don't you throw that. Knock it off. No more. Get back here. Get out of the refrigerator. Stay out of the oven. Close that. You want a time out? Go in the corner. Stop!"

They have a rule at his special ed preschool where they do NOT tell the child NO. Excuse me? They try to do positive reinforcement and redirect the child and they feel NO is too negative. I'm sorry but NO is NO and is part of life and I'm not on board with that one. What am I protecting him from by not telling him NO? Did the word NO ever kill someone? Does hearing the word NO guarantee you a place at the Therapist's office? When my child does something he's not supposed to, guess what? He's getting told NO and sent into some kind of time out. Even if his time outs are only for 3 seconds, at least I'm making an effort.

The Doodle knows when he's doing something wrong. He knows right from wrong. He looks at me with such contempt when he's doing what he shouldn't--be it ripping a book, playing in the oven, escaping out the front door or throwing something on the floor. I truly think he lacks any self control and is very impulsive, maybe that's the autistic part. He can't stop certain actions and needs to finish or he gets a little nuts.

It's gotten to the point where I look forward to bedtime. At least when he's in bed, he doesn't have his helmet on and he knows he can't get down (although now he's getting down anyway). He lays on the bed and then we go through some more bad behavior until he poops out and gives into sleep. Ahhhhh, a sleeping Doodle--but there's only calm for a little while; until he wakes up screaming or startles himself with one of his episodes that I still don't know if they are seizures or not.

And then we wake up and begin the whole bad behaviorness (is too a word) all over.

Motivation

Oh the irony.

Not to depress you but, I was watching an ad the other day on t.v. for an anti-depressant. Either the Marketing Wizards at Pristiq are speaking to me directly through the television or maybe I am imagining my symptoms of depression. It was asking me...

Do you feel you have to wind yourself up just to get out of bed?

Uhm. Yes.

Other symptoms they say to look for to see if you are depressed...

Irritability (check)
Hopelessness (check)
Trouble sleeping (check)
Low energy or fatigue (check)
Significant weight change (check)
Difficulty concentrating (check)
Loss of interest in favorite activities (check)

I'm always irritable. And not knowing if the seizures are coming back or if the Doodle is going to ever talk and not being able to control some of these things has me feeling a little hopeless.

I always have trouble sleeping, of course that could be because I sleep with one eye open and am checking on the Doodle twenty five times a night--especially now that he is screaming out. It doesn't help that he's a back kicker and has to be laying on me, touching me and that I don't have much space to sprawl out and get some real R.E.M. sleep.

Lately, I have had really low energy and been fatigued. I don't think it's related to my flu--but they could be related or maybe it has to do with being kicked in the back all night long.

Talk about significant weight change, I'm the poster child for weight gain. Significant Weight Gain. I used to be thin. I've tried everything and can't seem to shake these last 60 pounds...it's as if my metabolism has completely stopped working altogether. I've considered it possibly early menopause, thyroid condition or hormone imbalance because even my hair has been falling out. They say stress can make your hair fall out. If falling out hair and weight gain doesn't throw a person into depression I'm not sure what will.

Difficulty concentrating? Sometimes, especially when I'm writing, I get a little...hmmm what's that word? What was I just saying? Where am I?

And I have a definite loss of interest. Working from home, gaining weight, balding and having an epileptic autistic toddler to deal with makes it difficult to want to go places. I used to be really outgoing; the life of the party. Funny. Witty. Social. These days, you will find me most comfortable laying in bed, wearing elastic waisted pants, no bra, watching a movie with a troft of popcorn and a batch of home made chocolate chip cookies on my chest.

Hmmmm. The weight gain is suddenly making sense to me now.

So, I go back and forth alternating my depression symptoms. Some days are worse than others but isn't that just life? I've never taken a pill for depression. The list of side effects are enough to depress you. But what if there is a magic pill that could make me feel better, give me more energy and hope? Take away my irritability.

I've become so used to feeling like this that it scares me to think it can all go away with the administration of a prescription. If you read the fine print on anti-depressants it links suicide with the therapy of anti-depressants. What? Isn't that the opposite of the treatment working? I would hate to go from feeling a little irritable, tired and fat to suddenly wanting to end it all.

I've tried counseling. It takes too long. It takes too long to get the therapist up to speed with all that is going on and what might have brought you there to begin with including rehashing your childhood. It ends up being a chore to go. When I have a free hour to myself, child-free, I want retail therapy, not to be sitting on a couch with a stranger staring at me, judging me and agreeing with my every word while watching the clock for the 50 minutes to be up. Therapists are really just there to listen and that's not what I need. After all, I have a blog. It's practically the same thing. It's all too complicated and I would usually leave the therapist's office feeling worse than when I got there.

Cousins, Nephews and Uncles

We had visitors today and Jimmy couldn't have been happier.

Two of Jim's brothers and his nephew and great nephews came over to ride dirt bikes, play basketball and have a bbq. The Doodle loved being outside watching it all and being a part of the excitement. I'm not sure what it is about visitors but it makes the Doodle poop. He did three grumpers today. I'm going to take that he must be comfortable around them...

Our Little Doodle

Colin

Jimmy

Ryan

Ryan and Corey


Tim and Jim

So there was riding and playing and eating and a lot of male bonding taking place here today. Where we live, kind of out in the country I guess you might say, we don't have many neighbors with kids Jimmy's age for him to play with. The only time he gets a play date is if we bring someone home after school.

So this was a nice way to spend a Sunday. The brothers all live pretty close and he likes it when he sees them even though it's not that often because of everyone's busy lives.

Where does the time really go?

It's the Little Things

Like being able to put on your own shoes when you want to go outside.

Like learning new things.

It's baby steps to becoming independent.

It's trying it again and again until you get it right;

And getting the right shoes on because sometimes you'd rather wear Mom's shoes.

It's about being able to make decisions and choices.

It's about being a big boy.

Crew Cut

I'm a procrastinator when it comes to difficult tasks which is why the Doodle's hair has gotten so shaggy.

I can only muster the energy up about every 3 or 4 months to cut the Doodle Bugs Hair. I have to really focus, psych myself out and just go for it. Drinking a Rock Star right before the hair cut does help a little bit, I drink the Rock Star, not the Doodle. The Rock Star acts as a stamina builder and gives me that extra edge I need to get the job the done.

But of course the Rock Star doesn't help to steady my hand, as you will see in picture of the Doodle's hair. I wish I could just get the clippers out and buzz cut him but the sound and vibration of the clippers is too much for his little brain to handle...it freaks him out so bad I'm afraid it's going to throw him into a seizure, so I do it the old fashion way. With scissors.

The Doodle doesn't look very happy with my handy-work.

I can't believe how old he looks with his hair cut.

An Anniversary of Sorts

November 5, 2007.

There were a lot of tears that fell on that day. Fall of 2007 will be forever burned into my memory as a time when my life changed.

November 5, 2007 was the day the Doodle Bug was officially diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum. Even though I already knew, hearing those words from the Doctor was heartbreaking.

And sobering.

And confusing.

And unpredictable.

But I already knew. In my heart I knew something wasn't right. No child is that fussy and quirky and hard to understand and behind; which is why I made the appointment to begin with. So why would I be so upset with the diagnosis? Because when you have a child, you only want the very best for that little person. You set it up from the moment of conception. For nine long months you imagine how things will be when he's born. When you're given a diagnosis of autism, that changes everything. You don't know what will be in store for you other than what you've heard or seen on Oprah or caught on the tail-end of a documentary. You know you are going to have your work cut out for you that it's going to be harder.

You imagine the worst. You do your best to not to try to think about it or to have hope and be optimistic. Will he ever talk?

And then as the days and years go by, you tell yourself it's just taking longer than it was supposed to. That he will talk. He will talk. Right? And then the flood of questions...

What if never talks?

Will he ever go to a regular classroom?

Will he ever be able to take care of himself?

Who will take care of him when we're gone?

Will he ever find true love?

Will he be OK?

I know a lot can change in the years to come. And I hope and pray every day that things won't get worse. As devastated as I was about the autism and as long as it took me to process what it meant, it was a grieving experience for me. I was grieving over losing my idea of "normal' and what that was supposed to look like now and in the years to come.

Then when the epilepsy showed up in January, it knocked the wind out of me. I wasn't ready for it. I was too busy being burdened and devastated by the idea of autism. So, in a way, the epilepsy knocked some sense into me. It showed me that's it's true, "you shouldn't sweat the small stuff". I had been worried and depressed and then the seizures came along and shook me to my core almost screaming at me...."Oh Yeah? Forget about the Autism...Here's something to really worry about!"

It took the autism from Giant Worry #1--I can't think about anything else to...who the hell cares. The medical issues, seizures and complications far outweigh the developmental delays.

So now, I don't feel the same about the Doodle Bug and his autism. I have had 3 years to fall in love with this little man, quirks, tantrums, developmental delays and all. He is one of the most loving and cuddly little autistic people I have ever met and I know he loves me just as much as I love him, completely unconditionally. He's so pure and although devilish, he's just an innocent little 3 year old who doesn't know there is anything different about himself.

Two years have passed and it's taken me some time but I have fully accepted and embrace my little Doodle Bug, his autism, quirks and all. And when I clear space in my heart that used to be filled with disappointment that I don't have a completely normal child, it allows me more space to love and cherish who he is and who he will become. My days are no longer filled with the idea of trying to "fix" him. For whatever reason, this must just be who he is supposed to be. His destiny will be that he was a little man born into this family to remind us of our life's blessings. A little man sent here to teach us patience, understanding and unconditional love. A little man to remind of all that is truly important.

This doesn't mean I don't have hopes and dreams for him. I always will. I believe in him.

Top 10 Doodle Bug Career Choices

Watching our little maniac arc around the house all day destroying things has brought me to wonder what he might be like in five years, or ten years or fifteen years. Will he always be throwing things on the floor and tearing books? Will we have to confine him to a padded room when he's nine?

Even though he's only 3 years old, I've come up with some possible career choices for the Doodle Bug:

1. A Mailman or Gardner since he loves to push carts.


2. A Doorman since he loves to open and close doors.


3. A Chef since he spends so much time in the refrigerator and the pantry.


4. An Artist since he enjoys coloring on the walls, tv, fireplace and furniture.


5. Hugh Heffner since he loves being in his jammies.


6. A Male Stripper since he can't keep his pants on.


7. An Operator since he loves to push buttons on things and turns lights on and off.


8. A Movie Theater Attendant/Ticket Tearer since he loves to rip things in half.


9. A Circus Act since he is such a little dare devil and has no fear of heights.


10. A Star Running Back because he takes things he's not supposed to and runs so fast and can maneuver through things so well. And because he likes wearing his helmet.

Whatever he decides to do in life I'm pretty sure he will be working the grave yard shift since he's a little insomniac with a sleeping disorder.

Zero to Bratty in 3 Seconds

The Doodle has always had a mind of his own when it comes to wanting what he wants when he wants it. The term "patience" is completely lost on him; he can't tell when he has to wait five seconds or three minutes for something he wants, it doesn't matter--it's a wait and he doesn't like it. Something else the Doodle doesn't like is to be told NO.

Lately we have had the Devil reincarnated in the form of a Doodle Bug. He walks around the house just looking for mischief to get into. You can see it in his eyes. And when you try to redirect him when he's acting out or you try to get him to deviate from his evil little plans, he melts down and has a lovely tantrum he does where he looks for the most damaging thing he can throw onto the floor. If there is nothing too readily available to destroy, he will throw himself on the floor.

His new favorite thing to do is get things out of the refrigerator, freezer or pantry. He's a dumper. He likes to dump things out. He likes to run with things he's not supposed to too. He runs away, down the hall and into a bedroom and looks you straight in the face and slams the door as hard as he can. He thinks it fun. He thinks it's a game.

Terrible 3's? Yes. Autism? Perhaps. Degenerative Genetic Personality Disorder? Hmmmm.

After one of his zero to bratty in 3 second tantrums, he quickly recovers but we make him stand in the corner now. All we have to say is, "You want to go in the corner?" or "That's it! Go stand in the corner". And he runs right over to the corner by the front door and he puts both hands on the wall and he looks at us to make sure we are watching him and he stands there for a bout 3 seconds and then comes out - smiling that devilish grin, scanning the house for something else to break into pieces or get into.

Bring It On Dr. Julie Griffith!

I got a little visit from the Sheriff's Department. Nothing gets the heart rate up like answering the door to see a uniformed Sheriff standing there and their Sheriff's car parked in my driveway. Of course the first thing that popped into my brain was that Jim had been in some kind of terrible car accident and this was my notification...or that maybe there was some kind of Short Bus accident and the Doodle was killed. Or that there was an incident of some kind at Jimmy's school, maybe hostages were taken...but No, thank goodness it was none of these things. I was just being served Small Claim's Court Papers by that Nutcase who calls herself a Doctor in Marin, Dr. Julie Griffith.

This is the doctor who tried her hardest to alarm us and who misdiagnosed the Doodle as having a severe birth defect and brain malformation called Dandy Walker; which was later discovered after three more opinions that HE DID NOT HAVE IT--after many sleepless nights. This is the doctor who charged me $1687 for an initial consultation and refused to bill our insurance. This is the woman who over-dosed the Doodle by putting him on 2 additional anti-seizure medications in April where he could not walk or function, sat in a chair staring at the wall, drooling and started having a brand new type of HEAD DROP SEIZURE, then refused to speak with me about his adverse reaction to the medication she prescribed him unless I paid her $400 per hour for a phone appointment!!! This is the doctor who told me the Doodle was not autistic but might have Lyme disease and another genetic disease, which according to her meant that my mom and I both had too. All of these incorrect and devastating diagnosis ended up being a ploy on her part to get us to come back into her office for $500 per hour so that she could "explain" our diagnosis to us. PUH-LEASE.

I filed a complaint against Dr. Julie Griffith located in San Rafael, CA with the California Medical Board with regard to her unethical practices.

Since my mom had put the $1687 charge on her credit card, after we discovered what a FRAUD she was, we disputed the charge. After 5 months of back and forth and having to prove our case to the credit card company, including providing a statement of misdiagnosis from our real neurologist, we won the dispute and did NOT have to pay this negligent and crooked doctor one cent.

So. Now she has decided to take me to small claims court. I CAN'T WAIT. After getting over the initial, HOW DARE HER...I am actually thrilled to get to face her in court. It is my hope that the Judge will see her actions as negligent and borderline criminal and come to a decision in our favor.

I have already heard from a few other people, after the fact, that Dr. Julie Griffith is a money grubbing alarmist doctor. Dr. Julie Griffith is a DAN Doctor, one of the only DAN Doctors in our area - which is how I came to find her. DAN stands for Defeat Autism Now, and DAN Doctors work specifically with Autistic Children in attempt to "recover" them with diet, vitamins, detoxification and the like. DAN Doctors test the children for things like metals, food allergies, vitamin deficiencies, bacteria, yeast build up, etc. It is disgusting and appalling to me that this Doctor preys on the vulnerability of parents with children with autism and special needs. She gives parents the false hope that their child can be cured of Autism if they see her for weekly appointments at $500 per hour and buy her overpriced supplements and pay thousands of dollars in lab testing for things like Lyme Disease.

Dr. Griffith ought to have her license suspended for her misconduct, not just with me but other people as well. She has no business treating patients, especially innocent children.

I am not afraid of confrontation, especially when I feel I am in the right. I am actually counting down the days to see this Woman, who has the audacity to call herself a Doctor, in court; she has no idea who she is engaging in battle.

Daylight Savings

It takes my brain a while to adjust to the changing of the clock. My eyes see that the clock clearly says 7:02 pm but in my heart, I know it's really 8:02 pm. I will play this game with my self for a few days until I forget about this whole daylight savings thing and stop remembering what time it really is.

Jimmy got a Wii for his birthday. So it's been nonstop Wii fun around here; add candy for breakfast and you have the makings of a happy 10 year old.

This weekend went by way to fast. I need another 9-12 hours in the day to feel like I can catch up. And wouldn't it be nice to designate five or so hours more of sleep each night. I'm just saying.
Sundays are great for doing a whole lot of nothing. Went to a matinee today, it's hard to top Vince Vaughn and chocolate. Then we stopped by the grocery store and I made a taco casserole. Stay tuned for more excitement and random ramblings from Doodleville.

Happy Halloween

We didn't take the Doodle trick or treating this year but we still dressed him up like a puppy because that's what good parents do. We put our children in heavy, scratchy acrylic material fake fur things so that we can take pictures and in my case, I can scrap them. So he had to stay home because he was pretty sick last night and I didn't want to risk him getting worse or infecting any of the other kiddos.

He was fine with the Doggie suit until it was time to put the doggie head on. Then he turned on me like a pack of...you guessed it...dogs.

So I took Jimmy trick or treating down MacDonald Avenue with his cousins. And of course Jimmy refused to be something cute, since he's 10 now. He had to be something scary with a bloody weapon. He was Michael Meyers from Halloween. When he told me he wanted to be Michael Meyers I thought he meant the comedienne from Saturday Night Live who did Wayne's World and I was fine with that. Apparently, I don't know as much as think I do about things.

Jimmy likes it when I dress up, so not to disappoint...I went as my usual. Not a big stretch, already had the broom. For some reason I look like a battered Witch and I kept slamming my witches hat in the car door and it kept getting stuck in the trees.

This year there were more people than I have ever seen there before, definitely in the thousands. The streets were officially closed to cars and there was a DJ in the front yard at one of the houses, so you know I was all over that. We danced. Oh yes we did.

Since Jim stayed home with the Doodle, I had to find a substitute date. His name was Bill and he was the life of the party. He would not shut his mouth the whole night.

I mean, he couldn't shut it. It was stuck that way.

I think we made a smashing couple. People really took notice with

his commanding personality and my green face.

Pretty frightening, I know.

Afterward, we went to Chevy's and ate a late dinner and drank Shirley Temples. I must go now and inspect all of Jimmy's Halloween candy to ensure complete safety. I will randomly select the Kit Kats, Whoppers, Peanut M&Ms and the Cherry Starburst to make sure it is all OK to eat and has not been tainted in any way. Because that is the kind of Excellent Parent I am.

Meet the Sickies

Jimmy was sick a couple of weeks ago and still has a lingering cough.

The Doodle was sick a couple of weeks ago and hasn't been quite the same since.

Now, I am sick. Sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. Could this be the H1N1? Could we have the Swine Flu? Hmmmm. Well, I can tell you this. You won't find out with a trip to the Doctor.

I went to the Doctor yesterday afternoon and gave them all of my symptoms: headache, chills, fever, aches, cough, sore throat, swollen lymph nodes...

I'm dying to know. Do I have it? Oh no. What if?

But, apparently, they don't test you to see unless they are going to hospitalize you. The doctor gave me a prescription for Tamiflu and sent me on my way. So now I don't know. Is this the flu or is it "the flu". Am I going to die? Did I just infect my entire family? Or did I catch this from Jimmy or the Doodle to begin with?

So many unanswered questions. Like, what is Jim eating to shield himself from all of this sickness? What kind of special vitamins or antibodies is he taking? Why the heck isn't he flat on his back with the rest of us?

So the Doodle woke up in a horrible little mood this morning and wanted nothing to do with the short bus when it got here. He clung to me like an acrylic sock in a dried load of laundry with no Bounce. He's sick. Again. My HUGEST worry when the Doodle gets sick is that he's going to get a fever that's going to trigger his seizures. The nurse left today because she's afraid of getting it too.

Last year the Doodle missed Halloween and trick or treating because of his broken leg. This year, the flu. To top it all off, today is Jimmy's real 10th birthday and I feel so bad that I am sick and not going to be able to take him out to dinner and a movie like he wanted. I missed the Halloween parade at his school and the party in classroom and I'm supposed to be a Room Mother. I had to send the drinks and goody bags with someone else.

It sucks being sick when you're a parent.

Biting My Nose Off

My grandma used to use the saying, "Don't Bite Your Nose off to Spite Your Face". But sometimes too much is too much and you're left with a half a nose.

Doodle Bug has a Shape Aid who works him three days a week at the house. Mind you, this is not Betsy, our previous Shape Aid who worked with the Doodle for over a year prior to her getting laid off. Thanks budget cuts, but anyway, we've had several shape aids come through the house over the last few months because some were part time or some were summer time help or some were just temporary. Right now we have two, one nice lady that comes on Monday and Friday and another one that came on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Let me just say, I plan my entire day around the Doodle's preschool and Shape appointment schedules. I have to be home, I have to make other arrangements to pick up Jimmy from school, etc.

Since the first week of September we've had two new shape aids. One of them I love, the other, not so much. I never had a great feeling about her. She blurts out inappropriate comments, she was lazy and barely worked with the Doodle, she never stayed her allotted time and she called in sick. A lot.

She called in sick again today, maybe the tenth time in two months and I had just finally had IT. She sent me a text message that she wasn't coming. So I text messaged her back that she shouldn't come next week either, or ever again and to take care of herself. I immediately called her supervisor and told her that I was pretty much done. That it is easier for all concerned on the days she's not here.

I did the math in my head and figured the Doodle isn't losing out on that much...when she was here she didn't or couldn't engage him anyway, so there was a lot of just sitting and staring and she'd chase him a little and then he'd run to me and wave his best goodbye to her. She would take that goodbye wave and say, "Welp, I guess he's all done. I'm going to go now." and then she'd leave 1 or 1 1/2 hours early. So what is he really losing?

They are supposed to be giving us another Shape Aid in the meantime. I think. Or maybe we are just waiting for our Betsy to get hired back. Either way it will be better and easier.