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Archives for April 2012

Apr 13, 2012

Nothing Says Vacation Like Hard Labor

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The end of spring break is in sight, but oh it’s been a rough week. While we did get out of the house one day, I couldn’t sacrifice more of my work schedule for further outings. Besides, my odds for losing a child had already proven to be high, so I didn’t want to risk it again.

So by Wednesday at exactly 8:32am, the rounds of “I’m bored!” started, along with constant chatter directed at me while I was trying to focus on the computer. I offered them snacks, games, and whatever movies we owned or Netflix had online that they wanted to watch if they would just let me have a little time without needing me. And they took me up on all of them, and then still continued to express their boredom.

By 10am, I was desperate. So (with suggestions from others) I invented a new game: clean the house! Some families go to a beach for spring break; we do hard labor.

Amazingly, the kids seemed excited by it.

Both Cordy and Mira have chores they’re expected to do, but the tasks are limited. Turn off your bedroom lights, put your clothing away, clear your dishes off the table, let the dog out, etc. But neither have really participated in routine cleaning around the house.

I wrote up a quick list of what they could do with limited supervision from me. It was a surprisingly short list. Ah well, even 30 minutes would be a help for me.

And then? I put them to work.

They scrubbed the lower kitchen cabinets:

They took out the recycling. Mira dusted around the TV. They picked up toys and books in their rooms. I even showed Cordy how to mop:

Excuse the blurry photo and messy kitchen.

Surprisingly, the best time-waster chore was asking Mira to take the laundry out of the dryer and put it on my bed. She took one or two items out at a time, so she had to make a lot of trips back and forth. Best. idea. ever.

Cordy did exclaim at one point that she felt like Cinderella, being forced to scrub and mop. She tried to say she felt like a slave, too, but I shut down that direction of thought. For a kid who has very few responsibilities, she has no right to claim we’re treating her like a slave.

Did they do a fantastic job cleaning? Not really. Sure, everything is a little bit cleaner, but the point was to keep them busy and get them interested in helping out more around the house. And I still had to oversee a lot more than I had planned, but hopefully that means I won’t have to oversee as much in the future.

Despite the Cinderella comparisons (which actually just made them sing Cinderella songs while they scrubbed), I think they did enjoy helping out. Mira asked for more to do on Thursday and I had to scramble to think of more chores.

I think I’d still prefer to have a cleaning service if I could ever have it, but I have to admit these two are much cheaper. They work for beans. Jelly beans.

Filed Under: Cordy, daily life, Mira · Tagged:


Apr 11, 2012

Spring Break Madness

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If you’ve noticed how quiet I’ve been this week, I have two words for you: spring break. I used to think that working night shift and sleeping during the day while the kids were home was difficult, but it turns out trying to work from home during the day while they’re home is even harder. Like, near impossible.

Monday was filled with “I’m bored” as I silently cursed that school has to give them a full week off at a time. As I tried to get work done, I reached new lows in bribing the kids to entertain themselves. They were given full control of the TV, they were allowed extra computer time, and I nearly gave in to every food demand just to buy some peace and quiet.

Yesterday I cried uncle, put in a few intense hours of work that morning, and then ordered the girls into the car to meet up with friends in Dayton. Our friends were on spring break, too, so we met halfway and went to the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery. Cordy and Mira have been once before, but this was my first time. It’s a very cool children’s museum that focuses on science and nature, with a lot of fun thrown in, too.

My one complaint with the museum is that it is two floors with a very open floor plan, meaning kids can easily run from one area to another, but with plenty of walls and nooks to lose sight of your children in an instant. If you’re a parent who has to always have your child in view, I’d highly recommend taking any anxiety meds before you go.

There’s also a playground area with a climbing net that goes from first to second floors, and a giant twisty slide that goes back down to the first floor.

 The net – I saw some brave parents trying to climb this thing, too.

The stairs are nearby, which means when you see your child climb to the second floor, then lose sight of them, you climb the stairs to find them only to get to the top, look everywhere, and then peer over the rail to see them back downstairs. By the time you get down the stairs – they’re up again. No amount of waiting for them to return to one level will make it happen, but a trip up or down the stairs will magically change their position to the other floor. It’s exercise for the adults.

It only took five minutes after arrival for me to lose one of my kids. We met with friends, Mira had to use the bathroom, so I left Cordy with our friends at the exhibit right inside the door, telling her to stay with them and I’d be right back. When I came back, I quickly found my friend and her kids, but couldn’t find Cordy. The exhibit only had one way in or out, and she was nowhere to be found.

There was a Staff Only door at the other end of the exhibit and for a moment I worried Cordy had decided to ignore the sign. But just then a voice came over the intercom, “Would Christina please come meet Cordy at the Admissions desk?” I looked at everyone in the exhibit, sighed, “That would be for me.” and went out to the desk. Not 20 feet away from where I was, on the other side of a wall, was Cordy, smiling and waving at me.

“I thought you were gone forever so I asked for help!” she said. I thanked the museum staff and gathered my child, completely embarrassed.

The remainder of the day was less exciting. My two kids made sure to never play together to keep me on my toes, constantly checking to make sure no one had wandered somewhere they shouldn’t. Cordy mostly played by herself, while Mira made friends with every other kid and developed elaborate games with them.

Heeey, itza me, Cordy the plumber!
Mira as judge. The scariest photo you may ever witness.

At the end of the day we had one final moment of drama. I was in the little-kids area chatting with my friends, and thanks to a wall hiding me from the main view, Cordy couldn’t find me again. It was nearly time to go home, so I went looking for her and found her near tears in the playground area. She hugged me and cried, “I couldn’t find you anywhere! I thought you’d left me!I was trying to find my way back to the front to ask for help again.” Apparently she’s really convinced I’m trying to get rid of her.

Note to self: keep an eye on this kid everywhere you go, or you will always be that parent being announced over the intercom.

(Mira, of course, hadn’t seen me in over half an hour and had no concerns whatsoever. I could have left her there until the end of the day and come back to find her still playing and complaining that I was interrupting time with her new friends.)

Overall it was a lot of fun, and succeeded in tiring them out enough for me to get some work done when we got back home. Although I was pretty tired, too.

Unfortunately, I can’t do that every day this week, so today we’re back to creative endeavors at home. Maybe I’ll teach them to clean the house today?

Filed Under: clearly insane, Cordy, family time, kid logic, memories, Mira · Tagged:


Apr 4, 2012

Autism Awareness and Defining the Child

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I knew that Monday was autism awareness day, and I even briefly considered writing something specifically for it. But then life and work got in the way, along with my own stubbornness at feeling obligated to write about a topic just because it’s a designated day and others are doing it. (Yes, I’m rebellious towards the dumbest things.)

The truth is, I didn’t really know what to say. My family has a child with autism. One day of awareness, wrapped in a month of awareness is awesome, but around here it’s an everyday thing.

Way back when I started this blog, I had no idea Cordy would be diagnosed with autism. I knew what it was, vaguely, but had little personal experience. Our autism indoctrination was then intense from ages three to five, a time when we wondered what the future might hold for our daughter, and for us. It was a frightening period as we witnessed just how different our child was from others, and endured several difficult therapies to give her the best shot at a “normal” life.

Now? She’s in first grade, completely mainstreamed. She reads at a third grade level and does well in her other subjects. Her transition was a little rough at the start of the year, but her teacher reports that her behavior is no worse than other kids in the class. To be honest, her behavior is better than some of the other kids – she often comes home with awards for no behavior issues for the week. Yes, she’s quirky and doesn’t understand a lot of social cues, but she can function in a classroom and (mostly) in public.

People still occasionally question if Cordy really has autism. While it does frustrate me to hear it (do they think we’re making it up?) I’m also learning to see their opinions as a positive statement. Cordy has made so much progress that a quick meeting might convince you that she’s a typical kid. Of course, the downside of this is that when her more unpleasant quirks do show themselves, the judgment from strangers and acquaintances doesn’t take into account that she has autism. I guess that’s where autism awareness education comes into play.

I’m rarely considered among “special needs” bloggers, because Cordy’s autism is only one small part of my story. But even if I’m not on the lists, I still consider myself a special needs blogger and draw much of my own strength from reading the heartfelt posts of others. (Indeed, they’re the ones who held me up when I felt like I couldn’t handle it all early on.) Cordy’s autism may not always be in the front of my mind, but it’s a part of who she is and influences all aspects of our lives, even if it isn’t routinely discussed.

Do I want people to know that Cordy has autism? Sure, as long as they don’t define her only by that aspect. She’s an avid reader and can rarely be found without a book in her hand. She loves soccer. When she’s happy, she skips and bounces along like Tigger. She can bring a smile to nearly anyone’s face. Depending on the day, she wants to be a storyteller, a cook, a seamstress, a rock star, a vet, or a journalist when she grows up. But she also insists she wants to be a mommy, too.

So yes, I think we should do our part to educate others about autism, but I believe in looking at it from a whole-person approach. This is Cordy, she has autism, but she also has a lot of really cool interests and thoughts. Her quirky collection of behaviors just happen to have a name, while the rest of us have yet to figure out what to call our quirks. (And oh, we’re a quirky family, have no doubt!) Her challenges might be more than the average person, and we’ll continue to do anything she needs to help her overcome or at least cope with those challenges, but she also has a wealth of talents that some could only hope to have.

In total: she’s just Cordy, autism and all.

This is how she always wants to pose for photos – as a “superstar.”
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Filed Under: Autism, Cordy ·