Snappy Comebacks to “Why Can’t You Control Your [Screaming] Child?” (from autismisnotthebossofme.com)

It really doesn’t help when strangers deliver stinging comments like “Can’t you control your child?” or “Can’t you hear your child screaming?” while you are otherwise engaged in simultaneously 1) figuring out what’s causing him to scream/misbehave 2) avoiding injury to yourself, the environment and your offspring and 3) trying to calm down the noisy little one. One way I’ve found to nip the comments of others in the bud is to develop a short-list of ready-made responses.  Snappy Comebacks to “Can’t you hear (control) your screaming child?” 

1. “My child is on the autism spectrum. It is a complicated disease, and my son cannot help the way he is acting.” Mature and sensible, this approach works when you have a few minutes to spare for follow-up dialogue, which means you will rarely ever use it. Please see below for alternatives. 

2. “I’m deaf.” My friend Ashley uses this one all the time to cut off these rude strangers at the pass. I never had the courage to use it. 

3.“There are forces in play here that you cannot possibly understand.” I have been dying to try this one accompanied by a sinister waggling of my eyebrows, but haven’t been daring enough to do so. 

4. “Sorry, I can’t talk now; my child is having a meltdown.” Brief and to the point, yet polite. It is a favorite among all of the moms we’ve talked to. 

5-6. “He’s really hungry.” Wimpy, but it works. The only problem is that you have to somehow scoop the child up and take him somewhere where there is presumably food. In essence, you are cutting short your activity and making up excuses to accommodate the judgment of others. Alternatives such as, “she’s really tired” also work well, but are equally cowardly. I used these frequently before receiving Connor’s diagnosis. I have become much more assertive since then. 

7. Yes, but I choose not to. I’m letting him work it out on his own. Thank you for thinking of us, and I apologize for disturbing you.” A polite way of saying mind-your-own-business, but also verifying that you have a reason for what you’re doing. It also protects the child by not using autism as an excuse, if you have not yet told your child about his autism diagnosis. 

8. If I have the time, I try patiently to explain, but the problem with this approach is that I won’t be heard over the din of screaming and flying objects, even if I am prepared to be pithy. The Autism Speaks Organization has a button that you can order online to say, “I’m Not Misbehaving. I have Autism,” but I have a hard time asking my son to wear one all the time, especially since his meltdowns are now few and far between, and I know that he values his privacy. 

9. Ignore them.This takes more self-discipline than I have. 

10. And finally, I try to remember that many people still just don’t understand autism. I try not to be too hard on them.

                                  *******disclaimer******

I didn’t change “disease” to “disorder” because the content does not belong to me, and it would be inappropriate to alter someone elses work.  (I found it on autismisnotthebossofme.com) I think those of us that have children on the spectrum are well aware of the fact that it’s a disorder and not a disease, and we can appreciate the other 99% of the post for what it’s worth. thanks.

Autism varies from child to child. Some are severe, others mild…some flap their hands wildly, some tip-toe, most stim* but not all…..one of the Autism traits that Drydon has is called “Echolalia”…he repeats.
It’s common as Autism IS a neurological disorder. I personally believe it’s his way of controlling the over-stimulation of his environment. He is making a noise he can control and focus on.

In public, his repeating gets us weird looks. The other day we were in Walmart and Drydon was singing, at the top of his lungs…the first verse of jingle bells. over and over….

We have learned to let him stim as he needs to…..asking him to use his indoor voice is a futile effort. He doesn’t have one.

As we shopped, Drydon sang..and sang…and sang.

When we passed a cart with another child, his singing became viral. They started to sing too.

So what we ended up with was a herd of tone-deaf children singing that one verse of jingle bells throughout the store…it was one of the most beautiful things I ever heard.

* stim = those annoying repetitive noises Autistic kids make. Usually a word or short phrase, song lyric or in some cases cuss words. Repeated over and over and over LOUDLY.

originally posted Thursday, January 7, 2010

kristilynnmcd:

For Rashie!!

LOVE EEEET!

I would love to meet Tenzin Gyatso. The 13th incarnation of the Dalai Lama.

I’m not Buddhist. They lost me at the reincarnation part. But the philosophy to “Harm None” is one we should all be able to agree on. I have been in love with this kind mans face for longer than I can remember. It brings me peace. I need all the peace I can get so I had him tattooed on my leg.

Isn’t He beautiful?

Yeah, so most people know about my obsession with all things Harry Potter. For those who don’t….you will. I have a shrine with more items than I have room for. Posters, coffee mugs, scarves, games, action figures, trains, books, wands….the list goes on and on. But my favorite Harry Potter possessions aren’t possessions at all…they’re my tattoos. My leg is a work in progress but here is what I have so far…

The Voldemort looks green…but he won’t once the fog of the entire scene is added.

I got the Snape tattoo long before the series ended. I trusted Snape from day 1.

Bellatrix is my favorite tattoo.

1.) Last year, I was reunited with the son I gave up nearly 22 years ago. He got my awesome.
2.) Sometimes I talk just to hear myself talk.
3.) I love Harry Potter so much that I’ve dedicated one of my legs to the series via tattoos.
4.) I think guns should be outlawed for everyone but the police and military.
5.)I’ve had asthma since birth.
6.)I used to be quite the scrapper in my younger days.
7.) I hate beets.
8.) Saurkraut is delicious.
9.) I’ll be celebrating my 19th Cleaniversary this Halloween.
10.) I would knit around the clock if everyone would just leave me alone.
11.) I avoid math and left turns whenever possible.
12.) Most of the people I consider to be friends live in my computer.
13.) I love to read.
14.) Bacon makes my heart feel super happy.
15.) I watch the Misadventures of Flapjack even when there are no kids in the room.
16.) I think about death more than is probably healthy.
17.) I miss having babies. I was really good at it.
18.) I would marry my dog Buddy if I could. I am that nuts over him.
19.) I laugh when I’m nervous.
20.) I’m a huge fan of chocolate Silk.
21.) I used to drink 3-4 energy drinks a day.
22.) I’m a sucker for a catchy hook so my music collection is incredibly eclectic and cheesy.
23.) Billy Mays woke me up from a deep sleep once, with his obnoxious hollering, and I wished he would just die “outloud”…days later….he did.
24.) I have lost my keys, my ID and my phone nearly every single day of my adult life.
25.) I can recite the movie Twilight….from beginning to end, verbatim.

(Orig 01/14/2010)

It’s funny, the things I took for granted while raising my “typical” kids.

Me: “Good Morning lovely daughters….Can I interest you all in a spot of breakfast? What would you like?”

Them: “Good Morning Mother…Eggs and toast sound delightful…thank you.”

I feel like I’ve broken a top secret military code when I finally figure out what the heck it is that Drydon wants some days. Don’t get me wrong…..I’m thankful he is finally able to use ANY words at all, it’s just that sometimes figuring out what he wants feels a lot like negotiating a hostage situation.

Me: “Good Morning my beautiful boy….are you hungry?”

Him: “Are you hungry.”

Me: “Yes….are you hungry? What would you like?”

Him: “What do you like.”

Me: “Would you like scrambled eggs?”

Him: “NO SCRAMBLE EGGS!!!!!!!!!!!!NO SCRAMBLE EGGS” (which he will repeat rapid-fire style until I confirm verbally that indeed, his hatred of eggs this morning is acknowledged and put on record)

Me: “okokokokok….NO scramble eggs. It’s fine. How about cereal?”

Him: (replace “No scramble eggs” with “NO CEREAL!!!x10)

Me: “okokokokokok…no cereal. Cereal is out. What would you like?”

Him: “what do you like.”

At this moment I realize that I’m running out of time and lives hang in the balance..The only option left is peanut butter toast….please let him want peanut butter toast, Sweet Baby Jesus.

I wipe the sweat from my brow, take a deep breath and ask.

Me:”How about peanut butter toast?”

Time stands still as his eyes shift to the floor to contemplate my proposition….moments feel like hours. Come on…..stay with me kid…..you love toast…you love peanut butter….say yes…saaaaaaay yes…..

Him: “Want petey-utter toast?”

I breathe an enormous sigh of relief and prepare his petey-utter toast…crisis diverted. HALLELUJAH!

The celebration is short-lived however, when I realize that I still have to CUT the toast. Does he want rectangles or triangles? I know that I can’t just “surprise him”… I have made that mistake too many times before….I still have the scars to remind me.

I swallow hard as the choice leaves my lips….

Me: “Do you want triangles or rectangles?”

Him: “RECTANGLES….YAY!”

whew. That was close. Breakfast without casualties….it’s going to beautiful day.

At least until lunchtime.

I found this in my defunct blog. It was years before Drydon was officially diagnosed with Autism.

For those who don’t know…we have 6 kids. 5 girls and the last, a boy. (Drydon, turned 3 on 6/6)

the girls collectively were less headache, heartache and work (I know, I know, wait til they ALL get into their teens) than my son.

My amazing girls excelled in everything they tried, met their milestones earlier than expected and with amazing ease and enthusiasm. They were articulate and sweet, and not a single temper tantrum out of one of them. EVER.

They were clean and respectful, ate whatever I put in front of them and never lifted a hand to each other or anyone else.

*sighs dreamily in blessed nostalgic bliss*

»enter spawn of evil and destroyer of universes…DRYDON THE HUN

After losing the two sons I carried before him, Drydon was the baby that should never have been. Donny and I had suffered a parents worst nightmare—-twice, and determined to never again go through it, planned to have Donny fixed. We were blessed enough.

Within 2 months of losing our second son, I learned I was pregnant again.

My heart sank. For the first time in my career as a mommy, I was sad to be carrying a child. I just sucked it up and prayed for a baby girl (I obviously carried THOSE successfully!)

Our first ultrasound showed a VERY PROUD, VERY *ahem* UNSHY little baby boy.

I don’t remember much about that week except that I cried nonstop.

I switched OBs to a “high-risk” specialist who sent me to genetic testing and weekly ultrasounds, prescribed me a doppler to take home and flooded me with a library of books.

At my genetic testing I found out that I have a mutated gene that in laymans terms, caused my blood to hypercoagulate. (turn to molsasses, basically)

which deprived my baby boys the oxygen they needed to survive.

WHY were my sons the only ones to demise?

Male sperm are less hearty than female sperm. My girls were just tougher babies by nature and learned to deal inutero with my mutation.

So what would we do to ensure the survival of the son I carried now?

81 mgs of aspirin a day. That’s all.

Delivery day came and he was OF COURSE the hardest delivery. The rest of my kids were born in under one hour, he took 2. They all came in under 3 pushes…he took 7.

He was the fussiest baby by far. Nothing made him happy and he even cried while on the boob. His smile, sitting-up, and walking milestones were all unusually late. When I asked his doctor if I should be concerned, he smiled and gently said “Tell me, if YOU had 5 very doting sisters seeing to your every need…would YOU do anything for yourself in a timely manner?”

He assured me that Drydon wasn’t special needs, just incredibly spoiled and quite happy about it.

Here he is now….3 years old and STILL keeping me on my toes, keeping me frustrated and keeping me entertained.

He is JUST NOW starting to tell me what he wants or needs. He knows that I know he knows the words….he just grins his evil little grin when I get too pushy for answers. My world now runs by HIS clock….and he is in no sort of hurry.

He skipped learning to walk and just went straight to “diving off the highest piece of furniture head-first into the ground—-just to see mommy lose her mind” phase. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that his first head-bump and my first gray hair came on the same day.

Potty training? My girls were all happy to leave their Huggies behind, and each was trained successfully by 2. SO the boy must be ready too then…right? I mean, he’s 3 now.

HAHAHAHA surely you jest.

The mere sight of a pull-up or potty chair sends him into hysterics.

No, he is quite content filling his diapers with adult male-sized bowel movements and giggling everytime mommy or daddy have to gag their way through yet another diaper change.

I know like everything else, he’ll get there….on his watch.

I could type another dozen examples of his orneriness…but somehow, they escape me just now….as the baby who should never have been is curled up deliciously in my lap, drinking his bottle (yes, I know…don’t even make me GO there) and running his fingers through my hair while he looks sleepily into my eyes in a flood of love and warmth that brings even a tough and unwaivering woman like me to tears.

I’m scared and confused by it already.