Autism part 9

The day finally arrived!  Nicholas had his first day of kindergarten a few weeks ago!  This is a huge step and I must admit I was worried to death for the week prior to school beginning and I was a nervous wreck the first day.  Nicholas is riding the little bus home and I was nearly crying waiting for it that first day.  This is my baby, y'all.  He's the last one to leave the nest and go to big school.

He is five and a half  and still only 27 pounds.  He is wearing clothes and shoes from two years ago and is still not potty trained.  That was a bummer.  We worked very hard on potty training at Challenged Child and Friends and over the summer.  I really thought he was "getting it" but he's not quite there yet.  I am really hoping he will be wearing underwear to school by first grade.

But wow, what leaps and bounds he has made in other areas of learning.  This boy is smart.  I am telling you, there is a genius locked away in there.  Nicholas has a beautiful memory.  He remembers everything and it is cool to see some random memory emerge at unexpected times and in unexpected ways.  He remembers all the sounds letters make.  He can read basic sight words.  And he can fix mechanical things.  He's pretty amazing.

Nicholas is handling transitions much, much better.  He seems so mature walking into the school each morning.  No melt downs!  (knock on wood)  He's been a little bit teary now and then, but no freak outs.  Fischer said that Nicholas started crying in the lunch room, missing me one day, and his parapro ran to get Fischer to comfort him.  Is that not the sweetest thing ever?  Fischer picked his little brother up, held him and reassured him everything was going to be OK.  I am glad Mollie and Fischer go to the same school!

One day, Nicholas came home from school with a pink lipstick stain on his head.  This made me so happy.  This meant that some teacher gave him a kiss.  My heart melted and I felt a sense of peace that people at his school are loving my sweet boy.  There have been several times a teacher has stopped me in the store or around town and asked me if I am Nicholas' mommy.  They tell me they just want to scoop him up and take him home with them.  Nicholas does have this affect on people.  He is so cute and sweet.  Who can resist him?

Nicholas loves school so far.  I am grateful for all his teachers.  I am grateful he has the opportunity to learn the best way he can in a special environment with understanding people. This is a great beginning to his educational future.  I see awesome things to come!

Summer 2011

Ok, so the summer of 2011 didn't go as planned.  I intended to create structure so that we would all stay in line and not kill each other.  You know, a house full of children can be chaotic unless the parents enforce a schedule.  Plus, the summer is a perfect time to work on things like math facts.  Well, screw that because trying to enforce structure when all the kids want iss freedom is like trying to nail jello to a tree or like herding cats. 

I came up with the lovely idea of Camp Cutchshaw where the children would learn things and participate in camp- like activities seeing as how we are totally broke and cannot afford fancy real camps.  I think Camp Cutchshaw lasted 3 days.  I am not sure.  I could check one of the previous blogs about our Camp Cutchshaw adventures, but I do not want to relive any of it. 

So, I gave up.  I threw in the towel.  I did not endure to the end.  I said to hell with it.  And you know what happened? 

We had a pretty fabulous summer.  The kids were lazy.  They slept in.  They stayed up late.  They didn't make up their beds.  They did not hang up laundry.  They did not do dishes.  They did not do chores.  And guess what?  We all relaxed.  Wow.  What a concept.

Next summer I am totally going to incorporate the Cutchshaw Spa where overstressed children can come learn how to be lazy because I am pretty good at teaching that school, apparently.

School year is for hard work and summer is for unwinding.  That's my new philosophy which is pretty great because no kid will resist that.

We swam a LOT.  We went to the movies a few times.  We played with toys we had forgotten about.  We played games.  We hunted for the possum who lives under our porch that has eaten 2 of our stray cats.  We had some circle of life lessons.  We learned what it feels like to live without air condition for 3 days when it is 104 outside.  (THAT was NO fun!)  We had a couple of bon fires.  We visited friends.  I learned how to wash dishes by hand when our dishwasher broke and I've gotten so good at it that we may never replace it.  (sigh)  I had a birthday. Sydney turned 15 and got her learner's license.  She is an excellent driver, by the way.  Jolie turned 17 and is enjoying a summer romance.  Mollie's birthday is coming up in a few days.  And I took the kids on our annual Fripp Island vacation with my mother, my sisters, their children, and one of my brothers-in-law.

Today is the first day of school and now the Cutchshaw Spa is over.  I am kinda sad.  As difficult as it can be juggling everything, I really do love being with my children.  I love hanging out with them in our pajamas in the middle of the day.  I love having time to read books with them at night.  I love not feeling pressure to get things done at a certain time.  I love being able to just lay out in the middle of the driveway looking at the stars in the middle of the night and not feeling like a bad mom for letting them stay up past their bed time. 

I hope when I am dead, they will remember the Cutchshaw Spa Summer more fondly than they would have been grateful that I had helped polish up handwriting and drilled math facts every day.  It would have been good to do that, but this was good too.  And I hope they know just how much I ENJOY being in their precious presence.  How I love their puppy breath in the morning and how much I love hanging out in the teenager's room in the middle of the night telling jokes.  I love it when Fischer drills me on trivia facts and how Mollie draws happy pictures of sunshines and rainbows and then in her twisted way, draws "angry mobs" in the background.  I love watching Nicholas line up all the food out of the pantry all over the house.   I love it when all of us get squished in my bed watching a really dumb TV show.  I love it when every one's bored and we try to think of a cheap activity to do and everyone argues about who gets to pick and then everyone gets upset and we end up doing nothing.  I love it all.  And I love each of them.  Amen.

Satan can just go to hell

Did y'all know:  The average American woman is 5′ 4″, 164 pounds, and a size 14.  In fact, over 50% of women in this country wear a size 14 or larger.

I did not know this as I am currently killing myself trying to get my butt in shape..... again..... for the zillionth time. I have been doing the calorie count thing AGAIN for the past 5 weeks and guess what!  I've about starved to death and have lost 2 pounds.  2 pounds!  I have denied myself the comfort of chocolate during that time of the month.  I have had a salad when I wanted a cheeseburger.  I have left food on my plate.  I have logged in every single thing that I have consumed, even the M&M's I tried to sneak and for what?  2 pounds.  Gosh!  It really sucks.

I am not giving up, though.  Oh, no.  This is a challenge.  It is me versus Satan himself.  And I am going to win.

I am approaching this struggle spiritually this time.  I have been enlightened by the book Made to Crave.  It has opened my eyes. 

It's Satan's fault.  The devil made me get fat.  Well, OK, I take personal responsibility, but he has some responsibility too.  He has tempted me with all that yummy stuff that made me so fat.  I've been trying to silence the cries of a hungry soul with food when really all I've been needing is the Lord.

Isn't it interesting that one of the first things we learn in the scriptures is a story about how a woman was tempted with food?  Well, her bite of the forbidden fruit led to the collapse of humanity and my consumption of too many forbidden donuts led to the collapse of a plastic chair on Easter 10 years ago, but there's a connection.  She knew she wasn't supposed to eat it but she just couldn't help it.  Satan made it look so good and juicy.  Satan does that to me all the damn time.

"Come on, Abigail!  Doesn't this smooth, rich chocolate look yummy?"

"I am on a diet, Satan.  Get thee behind me."

"Come on, you have five children and a husband.  They are all crazy.  You need this chocolate just to have a little enjoyment in your life.  You deserve it.  You work so hard.  No one will even appreciate you until you are dead.  This chocolate will make you feel so much better.  And afterwards, you should chase it down with some salty chips.  Mmmmmmmm."

"Satan, I love the way you think.  You are so right!  I do deserve this treat."

And then I just get fatter.  And you know what?  It is his plan.  The devil is trying to sabotage me so I will get stuck in my dining room chair again so I won't be able to leave my house.  He wants me to be so embarrassed about my body that I won't try new things.  He wants me to hate myself so I won't continue fulfilling my life's purpose.  He wants my butt to jiggle so insanely that I will never want to go to the gym because the mere thought of exercising in front of another human being makes me want to cry.

So I won't give up today.  In fact, I have a new gym membership that I got from school.  I am going to take all kinds of classes.  There is yoga, pilates, Zumba, and equipment that I might actually break, but I am going to do it any way.  I don't care if there will be 18 year old boys in there working out as part of their baseball training.  I am going to do it any way.  I don't care if they stare at me or even laugh.  I'd like to see them deliver five babies without pain medication or epidurals.  I am STRONG!

And Satan, you can just go to hell!

The Daddy Test

It was December 1999.  Jolie was five and Sydney was three. I was a single mother and Adrian and I were falling in love.  Adrian was 40 years old and had never been a father before. I thought it would be good to have a series of tests to see if he would be a good father or not. The first test was a very simple one.

It was right before Christmas and I had to work at the church for the Christmas Pageant. We lived right across the street from our church. I told him his task was to strap Sydney into the stroller, hold Jolie's hand, meet me at the church, go through the pageant, return to my apartment, and then play for a little while until I came home.

Easy cheesy! No big deal. Adrian was doing great. He thought it was a breeze. He looked so proud walking through the church with the little girls.  My heart melted when I saw the three of them together. 

But when he got the girls back home and got Sydney out of the stroller, Sydney pushed Jolie to the floor. Jolie started crying. Adrian knelt down and comforted her. He said, "It's OK, it's just a little boo boo." She let him hold her. They were bonding. Adrian was pleased with his great fathering skills. They shared a cuddle moment. And then he looked around and said, "Where's Sydney?"

He ran upstairs and found Sydney standing on the vanity in the bathroom with a pair of scissors in her hand going chop, chop, chop! Adrian saw gobs of beautiful golden curls all over the floor!

About that time, I came home. Adrian had tears in his eyes and he was so sorry. I know he thought I was going to be mad.

I asked, "Do you want to run away?"

And he said, "No."

So I said, "Well....then you passed the test!"

If he knew how far he would be tested in the 11 years that have followed, I think he might have said, "Yes!  I want to run away!"

We got engaged on New Year's Eve after this event.  Our engagement only lasted 6 weeks.  We had only known each other for a total of 12 weeks when we got married.  Isn't that crazy?  It really is.  But I highly recommend this for all couples.  Get married while you're still hopelessly in love with each other.  Everyone has undesirable qualities.  It's kinda nice to go ahead and commit your whole life to someone before you know what those bad qualities are.  It's like a dream.  Every marriage is based on a wing and a prayer any way.  You can know someone all your life and that doesn't mean you'll have a good marriage.

Well, we had a baby a year later, he adopted the girls, and then two more babies followed.  I cannot tell you the number of Daddy tests Adrian has endured with five children.  Some have been quite typical and others have been really challenging and some even heartbreaking.  Adrian has passed every time with flying colors.  He is so calm and loving.  And he knows how to say he is sorry on the rare occasions he falls short.  Perhaps this is his best quality because I sure know a lot of people who do not know how to apologize.

Plus, he still tells the best bed time stories.  I hope that when our children are all grown up, the memories of their Daddy sitting on the edge of their beds making up elaborate, personalized fairy tales will stay in their hearts.  I hope they will remember the many fishing adventures he's taken them on, the camping trips, and the Daddy daughter dates to the nail salons, the interesting dinner table conversations when he teaches us things about science, the world, or openly discusses his spiritual beliefs.

Girls, remember that he gave you a diamond ring on your 13th birthday and told you he wanted to be the first man to give you a diamond.  Boys, remember your man adventures doing target practice and camping without us girls.

I want you to know that he is the one who picks out most of your Christmas presents.  He is like a kid in a candy store and spends a lot of time picking gifts that would be just right for each of you.  On the rare occasions when there is extra money left over, he spends it on each of you. 

Hold it in your heart what it felt like to go on his famous helicopter rides when he would hold you above his head and spin you around, or when he'd make you walk on the ceiling, or when he held you steady so you could ride a bike.  Remember these things.  Forget about the road trips of all seven of us being stuck in the van together, OK? 

Adrian once said that parents are like artists and they aren't appreciated until they are dead.  It rings true sometimes.  I know we frequently forget to show our appreciation for him.  We forget to think about how hard he works to provide for all of us.  We forget how thin he is spread making sure all six of us feel loved and special and he juggles caring for his elderly mother too.  I don't know how he does it all. 

Adrian, you really are the best father I have ever known in my whole entire life and I am not just saying that because you are the father of my children.  You have the sweetest heart and you lead this family with such a gentle spirit.  You are a really good teacher and you know how to play.

We love you so much and hope you know it.
xoxo

Father's Day Column 2011

Holding the back of the bicycle

Dear Lula Belle,

Since it is almost Father’s Day, what is the best advice your dad ever gave to you? I met your dad when he first came to Gainesville. I was working at the hospital. He was our pediatrician for all our kids. My son went to him till he was married. He got real sad when your dad said he had to go to a grown up doctor from then on. Soon, he had a child of his own and Dr. Mike was the baby’s doctor. We miss him so much and we love your whole family. –Just a friend

Dear Friend,

I was thinking the other day about the time my daddy taught me how to ride a bicycle without training wheels. I was six years old and had a hand-me-down bike from my cousin, Chris. It had a banana seat with flames on it. I thought I was Evel Knievel. My daddy made me practice in the back yard on the grass before I could ride on the cement driveway.

Daddy, in his colorful plaid pants, shirt with the big collar, and penny loafers would hold on to the back of the seat to steady the bike and run along with me as I pedaled as hard as I could. I would holler, “Don’t let go! Don’t let go!” and from some distance behind me, I would hear him say, “I already did! You are doing it!” I would look back and then consequently crash. He would make me get right back up and do it again.

Life sure is a lot like learning to ride a bike. We all need someone to hold us steady sometimes. We all need a push. And the one helping us has to know when to let go and allow us do it on our own. We must learn to only look back when necessary and even then to do it quickly and carefully or else we will crash into what is up ahead. When we fall, it is important to get right back on and do it again. I am glad my father made me get right back on even when I was scared. I am sure if mama was the one teaching me, she would have let me come inside.

Life is a balance. We all need our mamas to nurture us and kiss our boo- boo’s. Mamas are the ones we run to when we need some comfort. But it’s our daddies who make us get back on the bike. They are strong enough to hold us steady until we get it right.

Daddy didn’t give up on me. He believed in me and before too long, I was riding in the driveway with my big sister. For hours we would ride in circles playing Charlie’s Angels. Some imaginary bad guy would be on our tails and we would pretend our bicycles were motorcycles. Within a week, I was riding on the street and through empty parking lots on Sunday afternoons.

Daddy was an enlightened man. When I was fourteen, he told me, “To every valley, there are at least two mountains.” I think of him saying this quite often. I was crying in my bedroom, heartbroken over a boy when he stuck his head in my door way and said this to me. It has stayed in my heart all these years. It’s probably the best advice he ever gave me. Even when we are at the bottom of a valley, there are at least two ways up. It gives me hope. It was his way of holding me steady so I could start pedaling again. I have pedaled over many a mountain this way.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads who hold the back of the bicycle. Thank you for running alongside us until we get it right. Thank you for holding us steady. And thank you for making us get back on when we fall.

Need Advice? Ask Lula Belle by sending your questions to: asklulabelle@windstream.net  

(Daddy and my little sister, celebrating the birth of her first son 2008)

Daddy, we miss you so much.  We wish you were here.  We still need you.  There are moments we are still lost and our hearts break into a million pieces when we want to see you.  But we are mighty grateful that you were the kind of Daddy who held the back of the bicycle.  Everything you taught us and the love you shared with others is in our hearts forever.  I know you somehow watch over us.  I don't know how it works, but it does. 

Big Fat Liar

Oh, the calm is still enveloping our house like a warm blanket on a cold day.  Never mind that it is hot as hell outside.  We are spending most of our time huddled up in the house as if it was snowing.  The house is a mess.  I haven't seen it this disorganized since Nicholas was a baby and I was getting by on just 3 hours of sleep.  I typically thrive on order and cleanliness but I am coming to find that a dirty house isn't as fatal as I once feared. 

I tried going on a diet again.  I did another calorie counter program.  It really is harder than it looks.  I have been eating 1300 calories a day and have gained 3 pounds. And yes, I did calculate in the bag of pistachios I consumed while meditating the other day. 

Yesterday while shopping, I picked up a diet book called the Dukan Diet.  It is supposed to teach you how to eat like a French woman.  I thumbed through the pages and gagged when I skimmed over a page about eating animal organs. 

Do you know how many diet books I have bought and read over the years?  It's almost embarrassing.  All the books are dumb.  They didn't need to cut down so many trees.  All they really need are three pages.  One page that says, "Eat less."  And one page that says, "Move more."  And the last page should have a disclaimer  that says, "If you are fat, you probably will always be fat and when you eat less, sometimes your body will go on freak out mode and you will actually gain weight.  Exercising can be VERY dangerous for fat people, especially dancing.  You will realize you are getting old and have arthritis and not be able to move for five days after a work out."  The end.

I've always wanted to be thinner but I don't know why.  I am not sure what that would do for me.  It's not like I would go on a shopping spree and frolic through the stores in my skinny body.  I can do that now when I feel like it.  I did it yesterday.  I blew some birthday money at the fat girl store and had just as much fun as a skinny girl, I bet.  I saw my butt in a 3 way mirror and said to myself that it looks just as nice as anyone else's.  It may be bigger than most folk's and it may or  may not have ever gotten stuck in a dining room chair, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have redeeming qualities.  It's just as round and soft as a Victoria Secret model's, only mine is 10 times bigger.  Being only 5 feet tall, I am fun sized and super sized at the same time.  How glorious is that?

I can do everything as a fat girl that I could do as a skinny girl.  Sometimes I don't do it only because I am scared about what other people might think, but that's pretty stupid.  Who cares?   Do I think I don't deserve to wear a bikini on a beach?  Do I think I don't deserve to go skinny dipping in a lake with my friends?  It's not like I have been a bad girl and need to be grounded from having fun.  I am 37.  I have earned every fat roll.  My fat rolls are like battle scars.  See this tummy?  It is my womb that carried five babies.  See these humongous boobs?  They nursed those five babies for a total of 9 years.  See these thighs and hips?  This is from all the ice cream I ate when I was lost and sad.  And see my flappy arms?  This is from all the cheese dip I ate when I was happy and having fun.   

Oprah has it all figured out.  You can be fat, just wear beautiful clothes.  I don't think she's ever said this, but that's what she does.  She has enough money and resources to have a personal chef, a personal trainer, a guru, and an assistant.  Most people regard her as a highly enlightened woman.  But even she has trouble losing weight and keeping it off.

How liberating it would be to totally and honestly and wholly accept myself.  As women, we try too hard to fix this and that about ourselves without stopping to say, "I am OK just the way I am."  We try to change our hair color.  We try to cover up wrinkles or blemishes.  We try to squeeze into Spanx.  We go on diets.  And we take way too much medication, asking our doctors to prescribe this and that magic pill so we won't be moody or stressed.

It's a bunch of crap, girls.  We spend too much money and time trying to be someone we are not.  We are so full of denial.  We are liars.  Why can't we just accept who we really are?  

I had to get my license renewed last week.  I finally changed the weight on it.  I still lied, but I did add 30 pounds to the number.  I am getting there.  One step at a time, I will embrace who I am.

Being in love

So, Camp Cutchshaw was a bad idea.  In theory it was a good idea.  I tried.  I really did.  Summer surrounded by two teenage girls and three little kids sends me over the edge.  So I was going to be the fun mom and entertain everyone and keep everyone so busy with wholesome activities that no one would even have a small chance of driving me nuts.  Only, all my ideas ended up making them nuts which in turn made me nuts.

I had this great idea that we should all unplug from technology and get in touch with nature.  I also was convinced that we should learn to eat a more organic diet and I was ready to lay down the law that my children should eat what is served or go hungry.  With two picky eaters due to the weirdness of sensory issues that come along in the wonderful package of autism spectrum disorders, I was ready to nip all this crap in the bud.  Pioneer children ate what was served no matter what their particular issue was.  Why can't my kids do it? 

As the Camp Cutchshaw director, I was beginning to feel like the devil.  It's not in my nature to bark orders: "Get in line, clean your room, wake up and get your butt into the back yard and let me teach you the names of these tress over here.  And you WILL have fun.  This is called family bonding." 

I came up against such resistance that it wasn't remotely fun.  You can call me weak or a bad mom or whatever, but by the 3rd day I said, "Screw it." I briefly tried again followed by an epiphany that was so wonderful I almost could believe my luck.

I ignored my children for two days.  I only did what was life or death necessary to tend to them.  I did make sure they were alive from time to time and I did hand out Skittles when Nicholas went potty.  Other than that, I did my own thing.  I read a book.  I took a nap.  I took a walk.  I watched TV.  I stared out in space.  I ate almost an entire bag of pistachios.  I did some deep thinking and even some no thinking.  I just did whatever I felt like doing.  I even made a friendship bracelet because I had bought this awesome red string for one of my arts and crafts activities. 

And you know what happened?  Mollie and Nicholas picked out books and snuggled beside me and read while I was reading.  When I fell asleep, I felt Mollie's warm body cuddled up right beside me.  And when I made my bracelet, Fischer and Mollie asked me to teach them how to do it and they learned how to braid and macrame.  Jolie and Sydney got invited to go tubing down the Chattachoochee with some friends.  It was awesome.  The children were so quiet.  And they entertained themselves all day long.  I was just doing my own thing and they did theirs.  Nicholas spent hours lining up his Zhu Zhu pets, Littlest Pet Shops, and Hot Wheels.  Two days of calm has fallen over our house.  No plans.  No agendas.  No activities list to check off.  And no chores.

I was trying too hard to get back to nature.  Trying too hard to find peace in our daily lives.  Trying too hard to relax and unwind after a long, stressful school year.  Why do I do this?  It doesn't make sense.  Peace and tranquility are already here.  Zen is in the midst of changing diapers and folding laundry.  It is not in some faraway land and it does not cost money to get there.  You don't even need a guide or a guru.  I found Zen just eating my bag of pistachios, staring out in space, listening to the computer keys click quickly as my teenagers were sending messages on Facebook to their friends mixed in to the sounds of my son Fischer playing a Play Station game and Mollie and Nicholas squealing as they tried to catch the kittens on our porch.  It's here.

In whatever chaos is around me, I can smile and let go.  I don't have to be doing some important thing.  I can just give thanks to the universe for these precious children and the opportunity to be a mother.  Where I can receive the greatest education in the world.  I can walk on the path of enlightenment every day just because I am surrounded by these unique, creative beings who just count on me to love them.  I don't have to be one of those soccer moms who rush from one activity to the next.  I don't have to sign my children up for classes to make them become outstanding people.  We can just be.  We can just be.  We can open up the pressure vent and let it all out.  We can just be in love.  That's what my summer will be about.  We are just going to be in love.  And I am going to leave them alone as much as possible.