Explaining Liz

For the past week, I have been debating on whether or not I want to write this post. I think I am just going to take the elap and do it. Hopefully, it will help some other mom.

My kids have 5 cousins. They are all 6 and under. They are all very close. My neice is 5, and she and Liz go to kindergarten together. They look after each other. If you ask my neice she will tell you that she and Liz are "a little attached.'' I am so beyond grateful that they have each other. Becase of this, I think that Liz's differences have become more evident to my neice than to other cousins.

Last week, my sister and I were doing our weekly Super Mom trip to dance. Liz was having an especially difficult day. My sweet neice wanted to cheer up Liz (she was having a meltdown in her carseat) by making funny faces. It wasn't working. She told me that it worked for brother. She just could not understand why it would not work for Liz. I simply told her that we are all different, and Liz's mind works differently from hers. Luckily, children accept the simplest of explanations. She accepted it, and she went on without any further questions.

I knew a day would come when I would have to explain this to at least one of the cousins. It just so happens that the day before a very sweet lady had sat down with me and suggested a simple explanation for explaining Liz to Presley. That simple explanation came to my mind, and it was perfect for a 5 year old. I always wanted these questions to come from the cousins naturally, and I am glad that at least the first question came that way, I will say that I was not prepared for the emotional feelings that came with it. I think I did a good job of hiding my emotions, but the next moment I had a lone, I cried. I cried because my child was different and because she was struggling. Somedays autism is just rough. This was one of those days.

That day though, I was grateful for my neice. For the way she wanted to make Liz happy. For the way she looks after Liz. It never fails that at the end of the day my neice comes off the bus with her own things and half of Liz's. She watches out for her, she loves her, and she is best friends with her. Cousins are the best. 

What Inclusion Did For My Child

What is inclusion?

Inclusion means that children like mine are able to go to a classroom with typically developing children. It means they are in the "least restrictive environment." (I'd reference that but I have no idea if it has one, we use it so often in regular every day language.) I really love how it is explained here.

What has Inclusion done for my child?

When Liz first began preschool, she was communicating on the level of a 24 month old (she was almost 4). Through watching and interacting with her peers she was able to reach her age group (for the most part) on communication. We still have trouble with things such as approaching others, answering questions, and etc. She is beginning to master back and forth conversation. I truly believe that if she had been put into a classroom with other children like her, she would not have progressed as quickly.

Through inclusion, Liz has also been able to see what behaviors are or are not appropriate. She has been able to watch her peers and model things like pretend play (something she struggled with before). She is even beginning to pick on jokes that her peers tell.

Most of all, inclusion means that my child is not left out. She is not put into a classroom  separate from others. She is pulled out 1-2 times a day for special education services. Other than that she participates fully with her peers. She is able to remain in the classroom if special activities fall during a time when she would normally go to Special Education. Inclusion means that my child has friends just like any other child. It means she is just like any other kid.

What do I hope Inclusion does for my child?

I hope that one day my child will be able to be a fully functional adult. I hope that she will have a job, live independently, and have a family of her own. By being with her peers she is being exposed to real world situations (especially as she ages). This year we have had the unfortunate experience of learning that sometimes people are just mean. 

I hope that she able to learn self confidence. That she is able to look at her differences from others and turn those differences into strengths, I hope that she is able to learn to smile even when classwork is hard for her. i hope that that turns into a life lesson for her. 

These are things that inclusion prepares her for. I know that my child excels best in that "least restrictive environment." That environment is what will teach her skills to last a lifetime.

Some Moments Can't Be Captured

Tonight, I stood outside watching the snow. I felt each individual snowflake hit my face. I stood there completely mesmerized at the beauty I was witnessing. It was one of those moments I wish I could capture perfectly with a camera. Unfortunately, There are some moments that can never be perfectly captured.

About 18 months ago, I attended an autism conference. It was a month after Liz had been diagnosed. I was still very lost and confused. As I walked the hallways, I happened upon an ASD child having a meltdown. One thing that completely struck me was the patience his mother had as she helped him calm the storm. She sat down and held him. She gently rocked back and forth and whispered in his ear. In that moment, I witnessed true, undying love. That moment has stayed with me. As I stood there, an intruder in their world, I saw something beautiful. Just like tonight's snow,  it was a moment that was far to beautiful for any camera to capture.

I often find myself wondering why this moment has stayed with me. I'm really not sure. Maybe because it helped me to see that even in the worst storms there is always beauty to be found if we just take the time to see it. Sometimes it takes stepping away and making ourselves the intruders in our own world. When we step back and see the entire picture we may see something that we never expected to see. I'm sure that mom didn't think the moment was beautiful. It was probably something that she does every single day. I'm sure she was stressed and tired, and maybe she was wishing she was in the conference with all the other adults. Yet, there she was.

The reality is that this mother may never know just what a profound impression she left with me. Out of all the speakers I heard, nothing surpassed that one precious moment I witnessed. Being a parent to Lizzybug is one of the hardest most unexpected journeys I have ever been on. I often feel like I am failing or not trying hard enough. I often question my judgement or my parenting, Parenting an ASD kiddo is not an easy thing at all, but for me it has been rewarding. Every accomplishment, every smile, every battle won is worth it. When I step back and see the uncaptured moments I know that like the falling snow it is beautiful.

My poor attempt at capturing the snow: