The Newtown Tragedy and Asperger's Syndrome

The tragic shooting that occurred at Sandy Hook Elementary School last Friday is just unfathomable.  I get a lump in my throat and my eyes burn with tears just thinking about it.  How are those folks in Newtown, Connecticut even breathing today?

The Newtown Fire Dept flag at half mast, courtesy of BusinessInsider.com

How will I breathe when I go back to work?  This week, when I walk into the elementary school at which I work, will it look different to me?  Will I be able to look at the faces of the children I see and greet and hug every day, and be able to hold myself together?  Will I be able to reassure these children that they are safe-- and really mean it?  Will I break down when I'm unable to stop the thoughts that this shooting could have happened at my school?  To my kids?

I'm sure I'll do whatever needs to be done, just as my co-workers will.  But no matter what happens, being at work won't feel safe again for a long, long time.

So many things about this tragedy are beyond comprehension.  No one, except for the shooter, can ever really know what would lead a person down a path that would end in massacring children.  Doctors, neighbors, teachers, school counselors, and news anchors can spend countless hours speculating about the mental state of Adam Lanza, but only Adam could have told you why he did what he did.  I have listened to many of the details given about this young man whom, by all accounts, no one really knew, yet about whom everyone seems to have plenty to say.  Adam Lanza was obviously troubled-- any stranger could discern that from the events on Friday, December 14th-- but that is really all we will ever know for sure.

What troubles me about all the press this young man is receiving, however, is that many in the media are trying to link Adam's murderous rampage to his Asperger's syndrome diagnosis.  Please, please, PLEASE-- could the media just once do their research before treading into waters they don't understand...  While I, and parents like me, are out trying to spread autism awareness, the media continues to muddy the waters of understanding with ill-guided comments and suggestions about the relationship between autism and violence.

Paramore, Twilight, and Endearing Sarcasm

Birdie began reading Twilight this weekend.  *collective gasp*  Yeah, I know-- what was I thinking?!

*image courtesy of the coolest-vampire-art-gallery.com

Glad you asked.

What I was thinking was, my eight year-old daughter is going to get half-way through the second chapter of this Twilight book and realize it is a sappy, teenage romance novel.  (Which I totally dug, by the way.  Like, super nutso, I-have-to-get-my-hands-on-the-next-book-as-soon-as-I-finish-this-one dug it.  Not exactly a Twi-mom, but close.  Too close.)  Upon that realization, I was sure-- completely sure, as a matter of fact-- the book would be once again safely tucked away in the box from whence it came.

Weeellllll... yeah, no such luck, folks.  Birdie is completely hooked.  Hooked and racing around the elementary school, making recommendations to every grown-up and older student that she can find.  And as for her own classmates, instead of recommending it to them, she is telling them that "parental guidance is suggested for the content of this novel, which means you should ask your mom if you can read it first."  Go ahead and roll your eyes.  I did.  It seems I have created another raging Twi-hard.

Field Trips Suck... the Life Out of Me

Princess's stress face :(

Princess:  Mom!  Mom?  MAAAAHHHHHHMMMMMMMM!!!!  WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING ME, MOM?!  

Me:  Shhh!  *whispering fiercely*  What is the matter, Princess?!  Why are you yelling?!

P:  *sounds of something plastic having the life beat out of it*  My alarm clock. ISN'T! WORRR-KINNNNG!!!  IT STILL HASN'T RUNG! *hysterical sobbing*

Me:  Honey, it's only 5:00 a.m.  It's not supposed to ring for another hour.  Nothing is broken.

P:  Oh...  Are you sure?!  If we are late to school, they will leave me behind AND I WON'T GET TO GO ON THE FIELD TRIP!! *sobbing again*


Of course.  The "Field Trip Freak Out" is happening.  Again.  I was hoping we were going to avoid the field trip anxiety this year.


Me:  Shhhh!  You will get there on time-- I promise.  Please try to go back to sleep.


Field trips are a living nightmare for lots of spectrum-y kids, my Princess included.  Where most kids are bursting at the seams with excitement about what adventures a field trip day may have in store, the spectrum-y kid is tallying up all the ways that the day could go horribly wrong.  A field trip is a day chock-full of the unknown, and for kids with autism, that's worse than punishment.  On field trip day, the regular school activities, the surroundings, the seating arrangement, the bus ride, the lunch schedule, the grown-up in charge, the bag in which lunch is carried-- all these things are mostly likely different.  Ummmm-- can you say "not good"?!    For a kid that poops at the same time and place every day, a kid who can't find her milk glass at the dinner table if you set it in a different spot by her plate, a kid who gets angry if she outgrows clothes without being warned that the outgrowing might happen soon-- for that kid, this many changes in one day is enough to induce a full-blown panic attack!

How Should a Teacher Break the News that Your Kid is Weird?

Lunch in the Teachers' Lounge is never dull.  Every day at noon, several of my co-workers and I break bread together and talk about whatever is on our minds.  We talk about our kids, our families, our extracurricular activities, and any of the hundreds of other things friends might discuss over lunch.  As you might have guessed, however, our number one topic of choice is our students.  And why wouldn't it be, right?!  We are all (I assume) working at the elementary school because we love kids, and we want to help our students succeed.  It is obvious that the teachers I work with are a very compassionate bunch, and I am often floored by the level of concern and involvement they have with their students.  Frequently, we will spend lunch talking about how to reach a particular student's needs, or discuss strategies to use in class.  Recently, discussions have veered more toward Parent/Teacher conferences, since we have just completed the first grading period.  Consequently, I have never seen my co-workers look more stressed!

I never realized-- or took the time to think about-- the level of anxiety that a teacher experiences during a Parent/Teacher conference!  One would just assume, because the teacher is the one at the meeting with the grades and the behavior reports and the information, that the teacher would feel confident going into a conference.  Wrong!  Teachers get nervous, too, y'all.  It's not usually the discussion of grades that make teachers shake in their conference shoes, but rather the topic of behavior.  And not so much bad behavior as "weird" behavior-- as in Crazy Train-style weird behavior-- that makes teachers squeamish at conference time.  I have discovered during my daily lunches in the Teachers' Lounge this fall that teachers are often afraid of having the Your-Kid-Is-Acting-Weird Conversation!  The teachers worry about what to say, how to say it, and when to bring "it" up.  They worry that they will say too much or too little.  They worry that the parents will get mad, or get offended, or get up and leave!  Who knew?!

*image courtesy of NYC Educator

Making Time to Volunteer at School

Now that school is back in session, I am sure many of you-- especially parents of elementary-aged students-- have been hounded harassed encouraged to volunteer in your child's classroom.  Many were asked to sign up as volunteers at the very beginning of the school year.  However, now that the first quarter grades are about to go out, and the first of the school seasonal parties are about to begin (as in the nebulous "Fall party", which usually mashes Halloween pumpkins and Thanksgiving turkeys into one non-denominational celebration), teachers may be requesting some help again to fill in the volunteer gaps.  Or, maybe now that school is underway, you have realized that you want to be a bigger part of your child's school experience.  Maybe because you want to keep tabs on get to know better his/her teacher and classmates.  Maybe you realized that volunteering is one of the best ways to keep up with how your child is progressing at school.  Or maybe your child has asked you help out.  Whatever your reason for wanting to volunteer, I know that this is sometimes easier said than done...

Volunteering can be hard to work into your schedule, particularly if you are a working parent.  But do not fear, there are still many ways that you can contribute to the success of your child's classroom, even if you cannot carve out time in your week to be at school.  My friend Carol, one of the administrators for the website National Nannies, has compiled an excellent list of 10 things that you can do to help out your child's teacher from home.  You should take a moment and check out her suggestions:

Link to Carol's article on NationalNannies.com:  http://www.nationalnannies.com/blog/10-ways-working-moms-can-volunteer-at-school/

Aren't these great ideas?!  You're child will be so excited that you have taken some time to devote to his or her class, and the teacher will be ever-so grateful as well.  Please don't feel like you've missed your opportunity to volunteer-- it's never too late to offer a helping hand!

The Little Things

At my house this isn't always the case!

It's the little things, really, that make motherhood so rewarding:


The extra long hugs, especially when you know your kids don't usually love them.

The charming I'm-so-proud-of-myself smiles of accomplishment.

The crayons found hidden in your underwear drawer by only God knows who, that make you laugh out loud at 6:00 a.m. when you find them.

The almost compliments received, like "you'd be pretty today, Mommy, if you weren't wearing make-up.  Or that shirt."

The hilarity of going out without the children, thinking you look great for a change, only to discover one of your charming offspring used your shoulder as a tissue when she hugged you good-bye, and so now you look like maybe YOU are the one that uncouthly blew your nose on your shirt.  

The countless pieces of artwork that threaten to swallow your fridge whole.

The shampoo bottles in the shower that have all been filled to the top with water.

Awareness and What A Diagnosis Is NOT

Aahhh... the magical diagnosis.  In the world of special education, a child's diagnosis is the compass rose and key that educators use to draw the map of that particular student's learning plan.  The diagnosis, by definition, is an evaluation of an individual to determine what is contributing to their educational and behavioral difficulties.  The diagnosis, therefore, is a tool.  It is a tool parents and teachers use to raise awareness and understanding about a child's particular set of behaviors, and nothing more.  It is most decidedly NOT meant to be an excuse for academic and behavioral shortcomings. It is not permission to stop parenting.  It should, instead, be a parent's notification of hard work in the near future.

I'll just apologize in advance-- this may turn into a bit of a rant.

Affection- A Sensory Fairy Tale

Image from stockfresh

Not too long ago, in the kingdom of Autism, lived Princess Crazy, of the Crazy Train Crazies, and Birdie, her Not-A-Princess twin.  While ruling the land of Second Grade in Kingdom Autism, the lovely Princess Crazy was quite the stingy girl.  Where most all the other children in her kingdom were willing to hug and kiss and say hello, Princess Crazy would go out of her way to avoid activities such as these, deeming them an "invasion of her personal space".  *gasp*  Right up to the end of her reign in Second Grade, the princess would not bestow her love and affection on the grown-ups in her kingdom, with the exception of an elite few.  (Quite frankly, it seemed that most of the grown-ups that did receive Princess Crazy's hugs and kisses were grown ups upon which she depended for food, shelter, transportation, and good grades... but I digress.)

Change is Good

So apparently, change is good!  I mean like, really good.  So good, in fact, that I am beginning to worry that I have somehow gotten off the Crazy Train and entered another, parallel universe, where my children are incredibly agreeable, and the happytime-to-meltdown ratio is much, much more favorable than I am accustomed to.  I keep waiting for the proverbial crap to hit the proverbial spinning blade, but so far no dice!  I am really digging living in this Twilight Zone!

Part of me is not 100% convinced that this fan we speak of isn't just pointed in someone else's direction during the school day, and that I am just happily outside the splatter zone.  I'm wondering, if that is the case, do I even care that my Utopian illusion is just an illusion?!

The Big Shift

Except for the date, this is pretty accurate.

I have spent all summer trying to ease Princess and Birdie into the idea of third grade.  I have subtly changed their lunch time from 11:00 a.m. to 11:30 a.m., which is a pretty big deal.  I have casually mentioned from time to time some of the differences between 2nd and 3rd grade, like working in groups more often, having different seating arrangements, and reading more chapter books.  I have talked about who their teachers will be and how they compared to their 2nd grade teachers.  The Crazies seemed to take the info in stride, and with little worry.  Then, when Back to School Bootcamp began, the first week went so well that I thought my girls were finally going to be relieved of most of the anxiety that they experience this time of year.  Uhhhh-- I was wrong.  They just decided to hold off on the worry for a day or two.  Maybe the good news that we weren't moving helped delay the insanity.  After all, Princess was over the moon that she would get to spend another year at school with Prince Charming.  Unfortunately, reality began to set in early last week, and we have been stress-central on the Crazy Train ever since.

And here I thought I might actually be dodging a bullet...