Evidence that someone "special" lives here...

The first clue might be the multitude of visual schedules lying or posted around the house (I think Mason was mortified to have friends over after I forgot to remove the "how to go pee" schedule above the toilet a few years back when the soccer team was here for a big dinner; needless to say he's hesitant to have friends over any more).

The second giveaway might be the EXIT signs hanging above some of our doorways.

If you look closer, you'll notice all the ways in which I could employ a personal handyman (probably on a monthly basis)...

• a neat hole (the perfect diameter of a door knob) in the drywall behind the entry door...due to a broken door stop and excessive & repeated slamming of the door + a pair of winter boots strategically placed to block additional slams (complete with a sticky note on the wall instructing do-gooders to leave the boots in their place!).
• door jambs that have been knocked loose and do not line up normally with the other trim pieces.
• black "ball" skids on multiple ceilings.
• pictures that hang crooked on the wall or just the nail hole "slightly enlarged" from the multiple swipings, thus no picture hangs there anymore.
• scrape marks on the ceiling around the dining room chandelier due to excessive spinning of the light fixture.
• a mysterious food particle "cemented" to the ceiling above the kitchen sink.
• light switches that do not stay in the "on" position from extreme OCD lights on/lights off behavior.
• a large wall clock which would be a fabulous and functional piece of decor, if only it had the hands to display the time!
• sharpie ink used to cover up dents, scratches, scrapes on a variety of furniture and decor.
• crumbling drywall from the spot where a towel holder hung three "fixes" ago
• missing backs to TV remotes and cordless phones (once the little tabs bust off after an unexpected "flight," the backs just don't stay on).
• digital clocks that are all programmed for different times.
• drawers that cannot be pushed in all the way, due to bent frames from being used as a stepping stool.
• sugar bowls without the matching tops (long ago busted)
• cracks, dings, or other exposed drywall in virtually every room of the house -- typically caused by launched items.
• onion peel and cracked pepper in my Kitchen-Aid mixing bowl (obviously deciding to build his skills)

If I get past the obvious...and get with gratitude, I also...

• hear contagious laughter.
• beam with pride when one of the other boys interacts with interest and compassion and carries that over into experiences with other people with special needs.
• find myself shaking my head in disbelief at some of the things he comes up with.
• laughing that he gets me to do some ridiculous behaviors to satisfy some of his obsessions.
• delighting in new found skills...even if they happen at nano-speed.
• latching on to positive moments that give me hope for the future...

"He's a conundrum!"

Those are the words the neuro-psychologist used to describe Weston a couple of weeks ago.  A conundrum -- a puzzle, an enigma, a mystery!

We had the pleasure of meeting her about 3 years ago; she was the one to finally give us the official Autism diagnosis.  And while some may think, "Oh, great, even the professionals don't get Weston" or "Boy, that's helpful," I see her using that phrase in a positive way, and I can tell by the way she looks at him that she is intrigued by the possibilities and interested in him and his future.

Yesterday we followed up with some more testing, and the doctor told me in regards to Weston, "I think there is just SO much in there that we don't even know about yet."  It is truly validating when a professional concurs with your thinking.  So often I question myself...am I expecting too much from him, from his teachers, from his future???  It's a relief to know that someone on the "outside" but "in the know" believes in him too!  It makes all the fighting and advocating worth it.

I am anxious to see how all the testing and questionnaires and interviews shake out and how that compares to his initial evaluation 3 years ago and how we might use the information to help direct his school programming and supports for the years to come.

So I'll take "conundrum"...It's right up there with the statements one of the first professionals made upon meeting Weston when he was 12 months old..."You'll likely never get a real diagnosis to explain what's going on.  But sometimes, not knowing is better than knowing.  There's no "ceiling" when you don't have a label for it."

Be Happy

I can't help but smile when Weston begins to snap his fingers and sing, "Don't Worry, Be Happy!" especially when it's SO appropriate for the moment we're in.  Tom Cremeans and his message was not lost on this young boy...lots of truth in 4 words particularly when spoken from Weston.  Ooo, ooo-ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo-ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo

Success! When a smile says a 1000 words!

a good note...

Last Thursday, school had a hot lunch (finally) that Weston could eat and he decided to buy.  He was pretty verbal at home about getting a tray and who he wanted to help him, etc so once we arrived at school to encourage his language I prompted him to tell Toth and Huellmantel that he was buying lunch and that he wanted Cody to help.  Huellmantel asked him a question about whether he had money, and it appeared he went to check his backpack in the hall.  We continued talking and then realized he wasn't around...come to find out, he took it upon himself to walk down to the cafeteria to see Ms. Farmer and buy a chocolate milk. I learned later that he waved at the ladies in the office on the way down and on the way back.  The lunch lady emailed the following when I asked her about how that conversation went...would've LOVED to been a fly on the wall...

"Wes was very talkative!  He told me he needed a tray!  And he needed a chocolate!  I told him I'd bring his tray to class later!  Very smiley and confident!"

He returned to class with a huge smile and an attitude that exuded "I'm the man!" as he put the milk on his desk and got to work on his morning news.  I'm thrilled that he independently decided what he wanted, navigated the building (and a social encounter) and completed the task -- woo hoo!  

Later that day he took empty tape rolls to the office and asked "Can I have more tape please?" without anything written...they had orally practiced before he left the classroom :)

Small steps...long journey...priceless moments!

perspective

Yesterday, Weston's teacher introduced me to another teacher, a grandmother of a 2 1/2 year old girl, who has similar characteristics of Weston.  She had met Weston earlier in the day and was impressed that he stuck his hand out to shake hands upon introduction and encouraged by seeing him work and interact among his peers.

By turning to parents who've been there done that and having the chance to observe individuals with autism who are older than your child, give you a sense of hope.

Especially in the beginning, I believe that's all we're looking for -- HOPE.

So, a big thank you to Weston's teacher for taking the time to make a connection and for giving me a moment of perspective.  Weston has made amazing strides when you step back and look at where he was and where he's at now...

I am reminded that sometimes, not knowing what the future might hold, is potentially a blessing in disguise.