I don't care how thick my skin is, sometimes it just hurts.

A few years back a pediatrician that we had landed with for the moment and thought, for a moment, we were happy with gave me this less than stellar advice..."Miles is just different. He will always be different. So instead of focusing so much on how to change him, you would be better off just growing some thick skin and getting on with it."
I can't remember what my question was that prompted her to say that. I just remember leaving there with my head sort of spinning, wondering if I should take my kids medical files with me now or pick them up later, because I sure as hell wasn't coming back.
Well her advice was crap. Except for maybe the 'grow a thicker skin' part.
I have found that I have stopped noticing as often when people stare or respond in a less than sensitive way to some of Miles' behaviors.
I don't have the time or really the desire to explain to every person that seems uncomfortable around my kid what exactly is going on.
For the most part he pretty much blends right in and save for some random flapping in most situations you wouldn't even be able to tell that he has autism.
So when I got pulled aside a few weeks ago at his gymnastics class to be informed that they did not any longer feel he was a good fit for the class I was shocked and happy for my thickened skin.
It took every ounce of will power and energy I have to not bust out crying as I was being told that the coach running Miles' class wasn't used to working with 'special' kids. Any other coach would love to have him, but this just is not a good fit and could I please get him out of class now and maybe try back another time for another class, where he might fit in better. He is doing great, blah, blah, just not a fit with this class, blah, not fair to the other kids. Ouch.
The worst part was that when I walked up to pull him out of the class he was fully participating, as he had been each week, and had the biggest flippin' smile smeared across his face.
When I asked him to come on because we had to go home, he responded with,"Mom, not now I am doing my gymnastics."
Thick skin or not. That hurt like hell.
My husband met me in the parking lot. He was coming to take over so that I could head off to a curriculum night at school.
He dropped the kids off with his parents and then went back to the gym to let the staff and owner know what we thought of their lack of sensitivity.
We had after all spoken with them before the classes started about our concerns and we were assured it would be fine.
There is just nothing like the disappointment of your own child to break through even the thickest skin.

The wheels on the bus go round and round.....

So here is a little diddy that made me laugh after the fact. I was too stricken with anxiety the day it played out to see any humor in it. Now, I think it's kind of funny.
The first day of school the kiddos and I gathered in the driveway to wait for Miles' school bus. He was anxious. I was a wreck and there was a lot of tension in the air. We were strangely calm and ready early. Way out of character for us. As we stood there in a sort of huddle waiting for the bus, this conversation ensued....
Me: Okay Miles, your bus will be here soon. hand wringing
Miles: No Mom. I no go school. hand wringing
Me: School is fun. liar You will be fine. doubtful
Miles: No Mom. I stay home.
Caleb: It's okay Miles. You get to ride the bus. The bus will be so cool. I wish I could ride a bus to school.
Caleb: whispered to me. I hope it's not a short bus.
Me: Evil glare, but thinking the same damn thing.

Now before you think I am a horrible person let me just tell you this. Do you remember those little jerks that you went to school with? They made fun of you for not having the right outfit and they made fun of your bff for her frizzy hair? Well, they also made fun of the 'short bus'. Well, guess what. Those jerks grew-up and some of them had kids and some of those kids go to school with Miles and I don't want them to have anything on him. Not funny clothes, not goofy hair, no short bus.
In case your curious. The bus was medium. Not full size, but not quite short. And he loves it.

Oh baby, that's some big forehead and some mighty fine artwork.

This post is not about the size of my son's giant forehead as this first picture may imply. It is about the son with the giant forehead and his art work. He took a cool art class this summer that lasted for a week and he just loved it. The classes are run by a small art studio in Uptown Westerville and the kids work on a different project everyday. At the end of the week they get to choose one of their pieces to have framed and then their art is on display at the gallery for a time.



This was his favorite. I seriously thought he traced it at first. The kid has some talent.


Here he is pointing out his Master-piece. He was really proud of himself. Still, he managed to be a goof-ball though.


The piece in the lower left hand corner is also his.

I know it's totally cornball, but it is so awesome to get to see your kid do something that they love and take pride in. He will chatter on about art all day if he can find someone willing to listen. This was his moment, his night, and he really shined. It's good to shine.

I think I am being watched....

Shhh... I have snuck down to the basement to quickly post that I am being watched.
I started babysitting new kiddos at the beginning of the school year and the four year old boy is totally tracking my computer time.
He says things like "Isn't it your job to play with me?"
When I get on the computer he hovers over me and inquires as to what I am doing and why it doesn't involve some sort of entertainment for him.
I haven't locked him away in the closet yet because, well his mom is paying me really well and I need the job.
Anyways, I am trying to devise a plan in which I have some actual free time during which I can post without my little audience.
Hope to be back soon......