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Archive for November, 2010

hope like this

It is 7am and Jonah is laughing, and happy, and Andy and I are hoping the new med is helping him. He has a good appetite and he actually danced into the bedroom just now to lie down with Andy and snuggle.

Even if it is for just this brief morning, I am so glad. I’ll give him a big hug before I go to work, and I will have hope again that his day will go well, even if it stupid hope, even if it is false hope, even if it means I am crazy to have hope like this, over and over and over again.

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Before I could think another thought, he attacked full-force at my father, knocking the chair over, scattering pickles and french fries and drink everywhere, my dad frantically wrestling him to the floor while I did my best to hold Jonah’s head down so he couldn’t bite. My dad was bitten anyway, several times, then kicked hard all over his torso – I heard his moans and desperate pleas for Jonah to get off him, like we were being attacked in a back alley by a big heartless thug.

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my thanks giving

This year I have done a lot of things, enjoyed the company of many people, seen much beauty, and given not nearly enough thanks.

Thanks.

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The parents of kids with autism don’t need to feel guilty about what some Superparents accomplished that for some unknown reason we can’t. Since the market is flooded with the Superparent success stories, I think what parents need is for someone to write this sucks, and I don’t know what to do either, and I’m trying hard, and I am afraid, and I understand, and I’m drowning too.

I understand. I’m drowning too.

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I’m in a horror movie and there’s a wild creature in the back seat about to escape his bindings: Houdini on PCP. I hear the unmistakable clicks of Jonah unbuckling the harness buckles, squirming around frantically to get at me. I’m having visions of Damien Thorn scratching and clawing at his mother’s face as they try to drive him to church as I’m approaching the intersection – and Jonah’s succeeding, he’s getting loose and the kicks are closer BAM BAM BAM BAM and I’m pulling my car seat as far up as it’ll go, smushed into the steering wheel, thinking he’s going to get us killed, and all the while I’m yelling “No! Jonah, NO! STOP IT!” at top volume.

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Our sitter, a great guy who teaches at Wildwood, came at 5:30pm, and I paid him essentially to be an adult sane person to talk to for an hour. Oh, and I paid him in literature, compensating his company with a copy of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Also, Jonah had just fallen asleep and I needed the sitter’s protection to make sure he was going to stay asleep. Even Andy said he never wants me alone with Jonah again. That he never wants to be alone with him again.

So much for fine.

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Thank you God; I am good today. People can come in to work and see me and they can ask me how I am doing and I can say I am doing fine and I can actually mean it.

We are doing fine.

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Andy took Jonah to see Albany’s Veteran’s Day parade on Thursday, and as they were walking from where he’d parked to a decent vantage point, they had to step between two bushes on either side of the path. Andy tells me that a big crow cawed, practically right in Jonah’s ear, and Jonah stopped short in surprise. Then the crow cawed again, and some other birds in the other bush answered, and Jonah just stood there, half-fear and half-fascination on his face. Andy says finally he had to drag Jonah away – that the birds themselves were probably enough of a parade for Jonah.

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mamalove

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I can’t believe it’s only Wednesday. Setting the clocks back sucks – all this darkness. and Jonah was falling asleep around 7pm every night because of the meds, which now means he is falling asleep at 6:15 or 6:30pm despite my efforts to engage him and keep him awake. When I picked him up today at 5:20pm at the Center for the Disability Services, he was already downright listless. No school tomorrow, so I didn’t worry too much about cramming bath-time in there somewhere.

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