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An Open Letter To My Son…

April 17, 2012 By 6 Comments

An open letter to my son,

Hi handsome.  I’m not quite sure when you will read this, but there is so much I want to teach you, sometimes I get scared that I’ll forget some things or leave something out.  So I decided to make a short list of some life lessons I want to teach you.  They are in no particular order, but if you use them as a guide when life gets challenging, I think you’ll find your way:

1)  You have Autism.  That means you are special.  You have been given an amazing gift to see the world differently than other people.

2)  I spent a little while feeling sorry for you… for me… for us.  I was wrong for that.  You have made me a better person and you are absolutely perfect exactly how you are.

3)  But that doesn’t mean you don’t face challenges.  The world is not always as patient and understanding as we would like.  I’ll do my best to change the world for you, but in the mean time you will have to learn to cope in this wacky world.

4)  I will not allow you to use “Autism” as an excuse or a crutch.  You are capable of anything.

5)  Be open-minded.  Learn to compromise.

6)  But stand for something.  Defend it ferociously.

7)  Respect women.  They are a more perfect creature than we are.

8)  If you hurt someone… apologize (and mean it)

9)  If someone hurts you… forgive (and mean it)

10)  If you have to choose between popularity and loyalty… choose loyalty.

11)  Trust… but only after they earn it.

12)  Find something you love to do… get really good at it… and then convince somebody to pay you to do it.

13)  One good friend beats 10,000 so-so friends.

14)  Learn the difference ^^^^^

15)  Be humble.  Just when you think you have it all figured out, Life will teach you how wrong you are.

16)  Talk to God.

17)  Learn baseball.  It is the perfect game.

18)  Your Dad is just a man trying to figure it all out… just like you.

19)  Your Dad will have your back… always.

20)  You are your Dad’s hero.

 

Jerry is a Jersey Dad and also blogs at http://baconandjuiceboxes.blogspot.com.  You can also follow him on Twitter @JTurning and on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bacon-and-Juice-Boxes/320474061331829

This is an original post to JerseyMomsBlog.

Filed Under: Family, JerseyMomsBlog, Special Needs Tagged With: , , , ,

Togetherness — It’s What’s For Dinner!

April 5, 2012 By 2 Comments

Do you make an effort to eat dinner as a family? I take for granted that we do each night.  Both my husband B and I grew up eating with our parents and siblings almost every night even if it was frozen pizza or sandwiches.  Now we do the same with our kids.  If one of us has something planned that evening like sports practices, doctor’s appointments, or late meetings, we still try to eat together, whether we schedule the meal for earlier or later than usual.  We’re so accustomed to this togetherness that it feels somewhat lonely and awkward to imagine dinner without the four of us arranged around our kitchen table.

Currently, many articles populate the media about how vital this relatively short time is for building stability within families.  Family dinners benefit children in ways beyond good nutrition and polite table manners.  It doesn’t matter if it’s the same time at night, same type of food or whether your family is a single-parent, nuclear, same-sex or extended configuration – it just matters that you squeeze out the time to be together.  According to a Time magazine article, researchers say having family dinners decreases the time kids get into trouble by reducing unsupervised time.  It also points out that when children help prepare the food; they are more likely to eat it.

Sometimes, my kids set the table which teaches them where to place the utensils.  In small increments, they help B prepare the food by finding ingredients in the kitchen and pantry.  I’m on salad duty and will perform small tasks as needed.  If they express curiosity while he’s cooking, he’ll explain what he’s doing.  After dinner, they scrape their dishes and bring the plates, glasses and utensils to the sink.

Eating with the kids enables us to monitor what they eat, how much and what they like and dislike.  We try to encourage them to try a new vegetable or dish if there is one.  I stole this trick from a friend – request they kiss the objectionable food.  Sometimes, it evolves into actually tasting the item.  Other times, the gentle suggestion stirs up a grand, stubborn refusal.  We never use the promised membership of the Clean Plate Club as a perk for finishing their food – as long as they eat a decent amount and try something new we’re satisfied. [Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Family, M. B. Sanok

Dear Nice Mom At the Park…

March 27, 2012 By 4 Comments

Dear nice mom at the park,

We really aren’t crazy!  And we really aren’t stalkers, we promise!  Forgive our excitement and over-zealous requests for your email address.  You see, we noticed a connection between our children.  You probably didn’t even pick up on it.  It was short-lived and consisted of little more than a few quick chases around the monkey bars.  But it was the closest our son has come to showing true interest in a peer.

To us it represents just a spark… just a glimmer of something we have been praying and working for since our son was diagnosed with Autism four long years ago.  True friendship has eluded him so far in his young life, and we want that so badly for him.

It hurts us to our core to see kids approach our son playfully only to be ignored as he entertains himself in his own little world.  But it hurts worse to see those kids give up and stop approaching him because they receive no reciprocation.

For some reason your child didn’t give up.  For some reason your child hung around.  For some reason your child made a connection with him.  That makes your child our new hero.

 

Jerry is a Jersey Dad and also blogs at http://baconandjuiceboxes.blogspot.com.  You can also follow him on Twitter @JTurning and on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bacon-and-Juice-Boxes/320474061331829

This is an original post to JerseyMomsBlog.

Filed Under: Family, JerseyMomsBlog, Special Needs Tagged With: , , ,

See for Yourself

March 26, 2012 By 2 Comments

Have you ever stepped in dog poop, and even though there was little doubt that’s what it was, sniffed your shoe just to be sure?

What compels some of us to see, hear, taste, smell for ourselves to be completely convinced? Seems disgust may not always be a deterrent to the see-for-yourselfer, but you’d think the threat of danger would be. The Darwin Awards—acknowledging the stupidest ways that people have inadvertently killed themselves—prove otherwise.

Speaking of… [Read more...]

Filed Under: Family, Tara Spinelli

My Angry Young Man

March 20, 2012 By 5 Comments

My five-year-old son creeps downstairs in the morning, leans over the bannister and yells, “Boo!”

“Good morning Sunshine!” I say with a smile. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Waffles,” he replies.

“I don’t have waffles. How about pancakes?”

“But I want waffles,” he says again uncomprehendingly, suggesting that surely I must be mistaken. I can feel the mood in the room shift instantly. It’s like a cold wind has blown through making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Sorry honey. We’re all out of waffles. Let me tell you what I do have,” and I rattle off a litany of other food items with a demeanor of calm, but inside my blood pressure is rising and small beads of sweat have started to form on my forehead because I can sense where this is going. As the realization that waffles aren’t on the menu this morning sets in, he doesn’t take the news well. His face contorts. His eyes narrow. His voice deepens two octaves. “I don’t want pancakes. I want waffles!” he bellows. Dr. Jekyll has transformed into Mr. Hyde. “I hate you!” he yells, as he slams cabinet doors, knocks papers off tables, and purposely bumps into me as he passes by. The bad behavior continues as my warnings go unheeded until finally my patience has worn thin. “Alright, that’s enough! Get up to your room!” I yell knowing that his behavior is now like a virus that must run it’s course.

This isn’t a typical morning in my house. [Read more...]

Filed Under: Christina Surretsky, Family

My Portal of Discovery: The Potty

March 16, 2012 By 12 Comments

If only it worked when they were small...

“There are three things you cannot make a child do:  Eat, sleep and potty train.”  I heaved a heavy sigh after my trusted pediatrician passed on this proverb during our emergency room follow up visit.  Just a day before I was sure my son Charlie had a burst appendix or some intestinal disorder.  He was screaming in pain, waves of it, that were only broken up by cold sweats and passing out.  It turns out he was just full of poop.

“See that, all that cloudy shadowing up into his ribs?  That’s fecal matter.”  I might have responded, “Are you f-in kidding me,” to the emergency room  physician’s assistant as we reviewed my son’s x-ray, but I am not sure because the overwhelming embarrassment and guilt I felt over the situation has given me amnesia.  The PA also happened to be a mom from our pre-school. So, at least two days a week for the rest of the school year I would have to see the person who knows I thought my son had food poisoning when really all he had was parental produced constipation brought on by potty training.

A long time ago, so so far away, I remember my eyes wide with judgmental worry when someone I kind of knew talked about some acquaintance that had a three-year-old still in diapers.  “Still,” I probably said, “Gross, why doesn’t she potty train him/her? Is she not even trying?”  Oh silly, stupid former me.  However, former me’s judgment was pressuring me in my own present day parenting.  What was wrong with me?  Was I not trying enough?  I would constantly review all the things everyone else said would surely work and then try them again and again.  The Elmo Potty video.  Three different kinds of potty seats.  Diego pull-ups.  Candy, lots and lots of candy.  Lightening McQueen underpants.  Half hearted attempts at potty boot camp weekends. All of this over a year’s time and my only result was a urine soaked couch and an emergency room visit. [Read more...]

Filed Under: Amy Griffiths, Family

The Book of Love

March 15, 2012 By 2 Comments

My daughter, who is 7, has recently morphed into a rampaging mood-swing monster. She’s always had slight drama queen tendencies (and I have no idea where she gets those) but her new levels of highs and lows can set me trembling at the thought of her actual teenage years still to come.

Luckily, for me, some of that passion gets funneled into a desperate devotion to her mommy. She loves me, she needs me, she simply must have me all to herself. She’s like my own little Endless Love stalker. I just hope she doesn’t set the house on fire. Dad, on the other hand, is treated like a loathsome intruder, allowed to stay only for his skill in making homemade chicken nuggets.

Last week, she found a new outlet for her mommylove. She started writing a book about me. More of a little journal, really, capturing her impressions of me, complete with illustrations!

It’s thrilling, I admit, to have my biography underway; though as she ran through her initial ideas and then started asking me more about myself to trigger new entries, I found myself slightly chagrined at how few ‘interesting’ things I could come up with. Might be time to take up kickboxing or get into a shouting match with our loud-mouthed governor to give her some good material.

For now, I invite you to enjoy a few of my favorite pages so far …

She has black hair. p.s. and a little bit of white

and lots of lotion She is funny


She has a girl and boy children / She has a good/bad husband

She can save you! She’s in love with Johnny Depp


She likes to take pictures of food.


She can get back together with you (I’m sorry. It’s OK.)  / She is almost awesome.

Love the way this kid expresses her wild little self. And love the way she loves me … no matter how she spells it.

This is an original JerseyMomsBlog post. Deanna Q is a freelance writer and mother of two fantastic little beings. 

Filed Under: Deanna Q, Family Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

When Non-Irish Eyes Are Smiling

March 14, 2012 By Leave a Comment

My daughter E wanted to hang a green shamrock on the front door for St. Patrick’s Day.  Since we are not the least bit Irish (I’m 100% Polish; my husband B is ¾ German; ¼ Slovakian), I never bothered to hang one.  When March arrives, I usually search for spring or Easter-themed decorations and enjoy the brightly colored flowers and happy, hopping bunnies.  However, E kept insisting we needed a shamrock – she’s very keen on holiday decorations, so B brought one home.  “It’s for the kids!” he responded with child-like enthusiasm to my blank expression.  It didn’t bother me to decorate for St. Patrick’s Day or that money was spent on a sparkly, Kelly green shamrock – it just never occurred to me that the kids may want to celebrate even though we don’t have Irish blood running through our veins.

Come to think of it…they’ve expressed interest in Cinco de Mayo and Chinese New Year, too.  They both love examining maps and figuring out where countries are in relation to America and New Jersey. How ridiculous for me not to encourage the kids’ interest in other cultures and taking advantage of what people call a “teaching moment.”

Both my parents’ relatives emigrated from Poland back in the early 1900s, and my mom grew up in a household where Polish was spoken by the grandparents who raised her.  She knew all the traditions, a few Polish expressions and occasionally cooked traditional Polish food.  My maiden name which I write under is a town in southern Poland, and I’ve joked that I’m descended from a Polish line of royalty.

When I was a child, I remember foolishly telling my mom that I wished I were Irish.  She looked at me like I’d slapped her and told me never to be ashamed of my heritage.  Ironically, I was surprised when I found out I wasn’t Irish.  I grew up surrounded in Irish culture, spending time with my half-Irish cousins in an area where several families claimed Irish ancestry including most of the friends I made.  Most of my parents’ close friends were Irish, and my mom always cooked a traditional Irish dinner on St. Patrick’s Day of corned beef, boiled potatoes, cabbage and carrots.  A loaf of Irish soda bread, baked homemade, sat on the counter, ready to be eaten.  I simply assumed we were somehow Irish.

[Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Awareness, Education, Family, Holidays, M. B. Sanok, Mind-Body-Spirit

One Text Message…

March 13, 2012 By 3 Comments

“Eric found a friend in the jungle gym and they are playing together.  Eric won’t let him out of his sight.. Grandma is crying.”

One text message… 24 words… a few tiny bits of data. If you are a parent of a neurotypical child you give it passing acknowledgment as cute at best.  Let me tell you what it means to me:

The Subject:  Eric is my 7 year-old son.  He has Autism.  Expressive language is a major challenge for him.  He has never had a friend, a play date or a sleep over.  He has never shown interest in interacting with his peers.  He is in a Special Needs class of 5 children.  It has been a 5 year battle for us to reach him, keep him engaged in our world and not withdrawn into himself.  He has made amazing progress, but I had started to secretly prepare myself for the possibility that he might never enjoy friendship.  If friendship is within reach… everything is attainable.

The Sender:  My 10 year-old daughter, Anna, using her Grandmother’s cell phone.  One of the real silver linings to our struggles with Eric’s Autism.  Her maturity, her compassion, her generosity, the depths of her love for her brother astonish and inspire me every single day.  She and Eric were taken to a new indoor amusement park by my Mom and Dad.  She brought her best friend, who also happens to be amazing with Eric.  The fact that she was sitting and watching Eric play on the jungle gym rather than playing on her own with her friend is not lost on me.  It brings tears to my eyes.

The Footnote:  “Grandma is crying”.  My Mom and Dad are, without question, the most loving, giving people I have ever known.  They have been by our side or right behind us (sometimes leading us) through our journey with Eric from the beginning.  There are days their optimism and love is all that keeps me moving forward.

The Messenger:  The text message wasn’t sent directly to me.  It was sent to my wife.  Let me introduce you to her.  Her name is Jo Ann.  The depth of her love for her children is awe-inspiring.  Her strength, courage and generosity are endless.   She is truly a perfect individual.  She is my everything.

The Friends:  When I received the text message from Jo Ann, I immediately posted it on Facebook.  Within an hour it received well over 60 “Likes” and dozens of beautiful comments from friends. Some I have known my entire life.  Some I have never met but have found a connection through our common struggles and triumphs with Autism.  I cherish each and every one.

One text message… 24 words.

 

This is an original post for Jersey Moms Blog. Jerry is a Jersey Dad whom we are so proud to share this space with.

Filed Under: Family, JerseyMomsBlog, Special Needs Tagged With: , , , , ,

The Naturals

March 9, 2012 By 1 Comment

Spring is coming! Spring is coming! Which means baseball is coming! Baseball is coming! I’ve been waiting for this ever since Halloween…most people relish the brisk air and orange leaves as they trick-or-treat, but I see it as the very beginning of a long, gloomy season of cold and grayness (though, I do love the Kit Kats I swipe from the kids’ stash).

With spring now comes travel baseball…”what,” you say? Isn’t travel baseball a summer sport? I can’t even believe travel in this context is in my vocabulary at all. I was one of those moms who swore I’d buck peer pressure and not “subject” my kids to the rigors of serious travel sports and the intense coaches and parents that come with.

But here’s the thing. My younger son Dimples loves to play baseball. And the coaches and parents are pretty nice people. I staved off the travel thing when he was first eligible, the summer after second grade, but last year, after third grade, I caved and let him try out. Who knew he’d have a tryout that would outdo any actual game performance he’d log before or after that?

It was exciting to see him knock ball after ball into outer space (or at least short centerfield), scoop up grounders, field pop flies and to find out that he made the A team. Even better was watching how much he enjoyed going to every game he was forced to play in (because there is no missing a travel game), which entailed getting there an hour and a half before the first pitch and sometimes playing in the rain at 10:00, at night.

He never argued. Never whined. And this boy can whine.

Even better still was discovering what fun I had living in a baseball bubble (admittedly made bearable by its short-lived nature). It was like boot camp or basic training. I hunkered down. I packed ice water and cold towels. I knew that we were on call for high-octane baseball games every single day from late June until the very last moments of July. Pool time was restricted to avoid overheating pitching arms (I’m not kidding). Schedules were changed. Tournaments were added. The same parents brought beer-filled coolers and makeshift tables and cheese and crackers. We were a mini-cult. I barely knew anything about these people, but we bonded over the determination of our nine-year olds to hit and field as many times in a six-week period as humanly possible.

I know I was supposed to hate it. I wanted to hate it. But [Read more...]

Filed Under: Family, Liz
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