Archive for July, 2013

Just a Boy

For some reason today, I decided to ask my almost 9 year old what his brother’s autism meant to him.

He looked at me puzzled for a moment and then said, “It means we take extra care of him.” That was it. That was all he gave me. I didn’t want to push and ask more. But, I couldn’t help myself.

“Anything else?”, I asked.

“Not really mommy”, he replied.

Then, quickly it hit me. As an “autism mom”, sometimes I get so wrapped up in it all. (the diagnosis, the doctors, the therapies, what others think…the list is endless)  I need to remind myself that autism is only a very small part of who Michael is. Because after all, I am not perfect either.

To David, Michael is just his little brother. Sure sometimes he needs to have some extra patience with him. But to David, Michael is the boy he plays with, laughs with and fights with. He is just his little brother, that needs some extra care. So profound. So simple.

I can only hope that as he grows older, that Michael will have the love and understanding of lots of friends who see him just the same way David does….as just a boy, and friend, that needs more care. ❤

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Inappropriate Hugs

Doctors..It can be tough to find a good one, or, dare I even say great doctors. When you have a child with Autism or special needs, I think that challenge becomes even more difficult.

Well…when we moved to this area my second little guy was just born days before. (this is the boy with autism,  but obviously we were unaware of that yet) So, I was armed with a referral from my current pediatrician for a new doc here in our new hometown. I was ok. Always was seen right away, if needed. But, nothing spectacular. Fast forward about 6 years. Middle guy starts getting fevers 3-4 weeks. What do I get every time we walk in, without so much as a 5 minute visit… comes that word….virus. Several visits went this way. Blood work was run once and came back normal.  I just started feeling like maybe there was something better out there.  I felt that maybe they just weren’t taking the time or were to busy to possibly see that something else could be going on. So after a long time there…I made the switch. All along worrying if I had made the right decision.

Let me tell you…ALWAYS GO WITH YOUR GUT! What a difference. The very first visit there was once again a sick visit for the boy. I felt like I was in a different universe. I was in the office, the doctor asked questions and answered all of mine. AND get this, he personally called me the next day, Saturday morning, to see how the boy was feeling. Umm…I was speechless for a second, never once had I received a follow up call from the old office. Wow, I thought, they actually care!

I have 3 children and each time I am the new office, even though I don’t always see same doctor, they all give that same care and understanding.

The boy went went for his annual check up yesterday and I voiced my concerns about his fevers. For the first time since this whole saga started, I started to feel better. Not because I have an answer as to why these fevers are happening yet, but because I found doctors that are willing to take the extra step and time. He listened, examined the boy and gave me a few ideas of what he thinks it could be. We will monitor him and I will be in close contact with the doctor about the boy, at the doctor’s request…not mine. It was perhaps the best doctor visit ever for me. I could have hugged him on the way out, if it wasn’t considered inappropriate 😉

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We still have a ways to go to figure it out, but at least I feel like I have great..yes I said great..doctors standing behind myself and my children.

You are you child’s voice..if you feel in your gut you need to make a it. As parents we know our children better than anyone…and sometimes we just need to remember that.


I don’t know about you all, but I strongly dislike…..ok, HATE mealtime! I know…my title was a bit misleading. Sorry, couldn’t help myself.

  • We have the boy, who wants carbs in all forms, all day long. He asks for cheese sandwiches from the time he wakes up, until the time he goes to sleep. He could eat pasta from now until the cows come home.
  • We have big brother, who has a peanut/tree nut allergy, and is one of the pickiest eaters I have ever met. He hates pasta, pizza, and ice cream is too cold.. to just name a few. Has a very strange taste buds for a child. He does, however, love whitefish salad… yeah I said that.  If I put that on an ice cream cone, it would be the best day. Oh and potatoes in any form…he love chips, fries, and mashed potatoes.
  • And then we have little sister who wants anything, except what you put in front of her. Unless of course daddy is eating it or daddy made it, the it is the best thing in the world…ugh..

Here is a little schematic of last night’s dinner…notice all ingredients are separate….since each child will eat something different. And god forbid you get it wrong….well, then I just feel sorry for you.

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Here is a little schematic of who get’s what:

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Notice…the boy gets pasta with sauce and meat…but no cheese. Cheese makes it too gooey mommy!

Notice..little sister gets pasta with meat and cheese..but no sauce. Sauce makes it yucky mommy. And since daddy didn’t make it or eat some, only a few bites will be taken out of that plate.

Notice..big brother gets seasoned chopped meat with fries on the side (because he NEEDS french fries). Pasta is gross mommy, and what I am eating cannot touch each other.

I am exhausted after just writing this. And, this was just one meal out of the 3 meals a day for the next 18 years at

Enjoy your dinner everyone!!!


This is a bit personal…something I don’t normally share with others. But, I feel like I need to. Maybe it will be an eye opener to someone like myself.

All my life I have had some sort of anxiety issue. Is anxiety inherited? I believe so. But then again, I am no doctor. I just see my dad in me. He was diagnosed later in life as having mild depression and anxiety. I sometimes see my son in me..and truthfully that scares the crap out of me.

Here is the tricky part…when do you ask for help? I am a mom, just like everyone else with the everyday stresses that come along with that. They say special needs moms are under more stress. I can believe that.They say parents of children with severe allergies are under more stress.. I believe that too. (My older son has a life threatening allergy and his first reaction, anaphalayxis, occurred right before my eyes) That can cause a mom a bit of stress. But again…at what point do you break down and ask for help.

I have had those feelings of my mind racing, my heart beating, not sleeping for days and not being able to control it. No control, when you are a control freak, is a bit of an issue. This has been going on for years…and what would be the straw that would break my back? A wonderful trip with my son, to go visit my mom in Florida.

The day I hit the button to make the airline reservation, I almost threw up. Why? Fear of flying, fear of leaving my other 2 children home for days, with their perfectly capable father. Fear, fear, fear of anything and everything that could go wrong. I have never been away from my children. I take care of everything when it comes to school and doctors and such, again that control freak issues is there. Again..their dad is a wonderful dad who can handle a few days without me..right?

My hubby had been telling for years to go to the doc and get help. I avoided doc at all costs, because I didn’t want to be a “medicated” mom. My mom called me to discuss the trip one day and I got so panicked that I almost passed out in my car, in a parking lot. That was the moment I knew this had to stop. How can I be a mom,wife and friend and be this way.

Off to the doc I went. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I know what my problem is. It is anxiety, plain an simple. I explained that to the doc. I explained I need to be “there” and not in a fog. He gave me something to help with the anxiety and……I feel like myself again, not like a zombie. Not totally relaxed, because I don’t think that is humanly possible. But better.

I was able to enjoy my trip, even though my son got sick the day we left. My daughter got sick at home with the hubs, and my flight coming home had turbulence like a bouncing ball. Things like that would have pushed me over the edge had I not gone for help….So I am grateful I did.

I guess my point after this long story, is, we are not perfect. We can’t pretend or try to be. And if you need help….just ask. Doesn’t make you any less of a person, it may even help you to be a better one ❤







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