Category: Epilepsy

Headed Down Pity Path

I’ve been trying to decide how to write this blog post….or if I even should write it.  Yes, I think I should.  But how to do it in a way that doesn’t make Aaron look “bad” or make me look selfish.  Yet the truth is, Aaron isn’t bad but I am sometimes selfish.  I’m human and I get tired, but I also have to acknowledge where my roots often rest…..and that’s sometimes in soil that grows some undesirable attitudes. 

Tuesday night saw Aaron having four large seizures, so I was up four times with him.  I did sleep some between the episodes, which I often am not able to do, but still I was tired that morning.  I stayed up after Aaron’s last early seizure, and later I did the usual clean-up.  I stayed close to him as he lay on the couch for the rest of the morning, waiting to see if he had another seizure.  I had the laundry going and was able to do some other things while I sat there at the kitchen table.  I was on Psalm 18 that morning in my study time, which was perfect for me.  My favorite verse is there….verse 29.  “For by You I can run upon a troop; and by my God I can leap over a wall.” 

I felt very thankful as I sat there.  God seemed to be prompting me to focus on thankfulness.  I was thankful that Aaron was for the moment seizure free, warm, and safe.  Thankful that this wasn’t the day I was to take Nora to an important doctor appointment.  Thankful that my washing machine and dryer were just steps away, convenient and functioning.  Thankful that Aaron’s seizures aren’t far worse, as so many of our friends experience with their children.  Thankful that I don’t have to work, because it would be nearly impossible for me to do so.  Thankful for coffee.  Very thankful for coffee!

Later, Aaron woke up and he struggled to get off the couch.  After a few minutes, as he sat with me at the kitchen table, he told me that his arm was hurting.  I think he sprained it during one of the seizures.  Soon I asked him if he would want to eat, and we figured out together that some Cream of Chicken soup would hit the spot.  He was worried, though, that with his right arm hurting he would not be able to lift the soup spoon to his mouth.  Therefore, I demonstrated to him how he could eat by bending close over the bowl.  Aaron sometimes doesn’t like us to use our hands to demonstrate some action.  Don’t ask me why, but sometimes it irritates him.  So when I bent over to show him how he could eat, he snapped at me.  “You don’t have to show me how to do it by going like this….” he said with irritation as he copied my movement. 

It was as if he had thrown cold water in my face.  I knew that he was feeling terrible…..I knew that he has never liked physical demonstrations like this……I knew that his autism makes him very blunt…..but I also knew at that moment that I felt very hurt.  I just looked at him, and he knew very well that I was not happy.  I didn’t say a word, but got up and fixed his soup.  I got him all settled there at the table so he could eat, and I coldly told him that I was going upstairs to take my shower. 

For some time, my thoughts were headed down Pity Path.  How could Aaron treat me so rudely after all I’ve done for him?  It was very easy to rehash all of my sacrifices for Aaron, and very easy to nurse my hurt.  I was mostly silent toward him as the afternoon wore on around us.  He seemed to be fine, watching a movie, so I slipped down to Dillon’s to run an errand I had hoped to run that morning, but couldn’t because of Aaron’s seizures…..how I had to sit with him and didn’t get to accomplish what I wanted when I wanted……how my day was interrupted and my schedule trashed…..

See how it went with my thoughts?  Where was the thankfulness I had experienced earlier?  Where was my, “…..with God I can leap over a wall?”  I’ll tell you where it was.  It was buried under my self-centered thoughts, my tired body and mind, and my feelings of being very unappreciated by my son.  I had some major adjusting to do over the next hours, and some soul searching, as well. 

We all have many moments of feeling just as I did on Tuesday afternoon.   As a parent, spouse, sibling, friend, worker on the job, volunteer at church…..no matter where we are…..we will get our feelings hurt.  And as the mother of a special needs child who also has autism, it’s easy to be hurt a lot.  Aaron doesn’t have filters or feelings like we do.  He must be reminded over and over to be kind, to think of other’s feelings, to react in a nice way instead of a blunt or harsh way, and on and on.  He is very self-centered, and this is a huge reason why it doesn’t work if I am that way, too. 

I think it was important for me, personally, at that moment to step back and remove myself from Aaron and the situation.  The danger I faced, though, was in nursing my hurt instead of focusing on what God would do.  What I allow my thoughts to focus upon will determine my attitude, and will even determine whether I sin in the situation or grow in it.  To be hurt was normal.  To let my roots sink into the hurt as I planted myself in it would not be beneficial or right. 

Christ gave up a lot for me.  How often do I react to Him with unthankfulness or pride?  He didn’t hold on to his position as God’s Son, but emptied Himself of all that and became sin for me.  That’s the best example I can follow as I experience the hurt and the tiredness of being a special needs Mom….or any of the other many roles I have in this life.  It can’t be about me, or I will be continually frustrated.  It must be about honoring Christ, and caring for Aaron.

Understanding how Aaron feels after seizures…..understanding his autistic way of viewing the world….is very necessary, as well.  So is training him and reminding him of his actions, and how they can hurt or help others. 

Understanding how I feel after Aaron’s seizures…..understanding my sometimes selfish way of viewing the world…..is also very necessary.  Both must be recognized and dealt with before being allowed to get out of hand. 

Well, back to my verse in Psalm 18.  I didn’t exactly leap over that wall with God.  He more or less had to lift and shove me over it.  I wanted to sit at the base of the wall and lick my wounds, but He wouldn’t let me.  I’m glad for that!  Glad that He is patient and persistent with me.  Glad that He shows me His love.

Just like we have to be with Aaron.  It won’t be the last time, either.  For me or Aaron, either one. 

I’m Glad You Took Care of Me

Aaron had two doctor appointments this week.  On Tuesday we went in for his yearly eye exam, and on Thursday we went to the dentist to have his teeth cleaned.  He very much prefers the eye exam.  For one thing, nothing hampers him from talking to his heart’s content at the optometry clinic.  No one has their hands in his mouth, doing uncomfortable procedures, and so he can talk and talk…..which he definitely did.  He charged right up to the check-in counter at the eye clinic and didn’t even say hello before he started telling the two receptionists all about Fallen Skies and alien skitters and the skitter-in-charge, named Cochise.

It’s just amazing how Aaron will launch right into his tall tales without one word of hello or a few words of explanation to get him started.  Nope, he just barrels right in to his review of whatever is currently on his mind, oblivious to the confused looks of those to whom he is talking.  Or he’ll mention his day group, Paradigm, or someone at Paradigm, as if these ladies know all about this place and those people……which they don’t, and so once again they are confused.  This is why one of my job descriptions is that of interpreter.  I definitely multi-task big time as I try to sign forms, go over insurance, check for information changes, and explain skitters. 

Thankfully these ladies were delighted with Aaron.  Their give and take with him only encouraged him to continue with his stories, and I had to urge him to finally hush and follow me to a chair.  His forced silence was short lived.  He was immediately called back to begin the exam, so he hardly missed a beat before he was telling a new person about Falling Skies and skitters and that he broke his glasses the week before.  He made me laugh as he did one of the eye tests, putting his hands up to the machine as if he was gazing at something exciting.  Maybe he thought he would see another skitter? 

 
The eye exam went well with patient Dr. Fisher……our friend, Brandon.  Of course, Aaron just had to tell him that he got in trouble for calling Stephanie a babe at Paradigm.  And there I was, proud Mom, wondering if I should explain.    Then it was on to get his new glasses.  Trying on glasses is Aaron’s least favorite part of this process.  It ranks right up there with trying on clothes.  He just doesn’t want frames that make him look like Clark Kent.  After that fact is established, he could care less.  And going over insurance is really boring to him.  Again, two understanding technicians and lots of laughs helped tremendously.  Soon we were eating lunch at Chili’s and all was great in Aaron’s world.

Thursday was teeth cleaning day.  The dental exam is really, really Aaron’s least favorite thing in the world to do.  Most of us don’t like teeth cleanings, and Aaron is no exception.  It’s uncomfortable for Aaron, plus he can’t talk and so it’s a long process of frustrating scraping and rinsing and forced silence.  I used to go back with him, but now I let him go alone.  I urge him to be mature…..plus it’s best for me to have an element of ignorance about what really goes on back there, on Aaron’s part.  I know he gets frustrated and impatient.  Once he bit the hygienist.  He said it was an accident.  I wasn’t totally convinced. 

Another part of it is that Aaron doesn’t want us to talk about how he doesn’t do a good job with brushing his teeth.  That’s why we have gone every four months for cleaning, and now have decided to go every two months.  Aaron starts getting angry if I talk about his teeth at home, if I try to help him at home, or when the dentist or hygienist is talking to me about Aaron’s teeth.  We try to keep it low key but with instruction for him, too, yet nothing really helps. 

Later, as he took full advantage of the Pizza Hut buffet, we mentioned his teeth just a little.  Most of the time we talked about whatever entered his mind as he thoroughly enjoyed the pizza and the salad.  I laughed at the dressing on his nose and the look on his face, and I had to tell him many times to talk softer as he was talking in high gear once again, like he was making up for the lost moments when his mouth was silent at the dentist’s office. 

 
We went to Sam’s for a few things.  On the way home we stopped at my elderly friend’s apartment.  Aaron hadn’t seen Nora’s new place.  I dropped off a sweater to her that I had repaired.  She was delighted to see Aaron.  Once again I was the interpreter as he told her about skitters and Paradigm this and that, and she stood there clueless.  She gave him a piece of candy, and he thanked her.  “Are you glad I said thank you?” he asked me as we left.  “Are you glad I told her hi?”  I told her that I was very thankful that he had practiced his manners.

Manners were a little absent later that night, however.  A lot absent, actually.  Like a light switching off….or on…..Aaron’s mood changed dramatically.  We haven’t seen that kind of change in a long time.  He instantly went from happy to angry as he prepared to go to bed.  He decided to focus on his teeth. 

“Mom, you make me feel like I’m bad in my mouth!  I’m not going back to them!!”

He slammed our bedroom door, and he slammed his bedroom door.  Then I heard him stomping up the hall, where he barged in our room yet again.  “I’m not going back to them!” he angrily said….referring to the dentist.  And he called me a name, several times.  This was surprising because Aaron has been so mellow lately.  I wondered if this foul mood was related to his new seizure drug, which can cause anger.  Or was he going to have some seizures.  Often, mood changes precede seizures. 

And sure enough, he had two hard seizures during the night, and another one yesterday morning as he lay on the couch.  He chewed the end of his tongue again, and wet the bed.  I wondered what he thought as he silently watched me yesterday morning in his bathroom, on my knees cleaning up the pee that was on the floor around the toilet.  He was unsteady when he got up and he told me this had happened. 

I thought about his anger the night before, and the name he had called me.  It would be easy sometimes to show anger right back to him, and I certainly have done that.  But that night before I had remained mostly silent, knowing that it was futile to reason with Aaron when he was so angry.  Now before our issue was resolved, I was on my knees cleaning up his mess…..because I love him.

Just like God loves me, I thought.  Here, once again, in my life with Aaron I have another example of God’s love for me, expressed unconditionally.  God loves me when I’m happy…..He loves me when I’m angry……and he cleans up my messes and he soothes my heart over and over again.  How can I do less with Aaron?

I washed all of Aaron’s bedding during the day as he slept on the couch, and was reminded again of God’s love for me as I love Aaron.  I’ll be doing this again, too, and so will God with me.  Faithful love is what God shows to me, and is what I need for Aaron, as well…..even with the still fresh reminder of Aaron’s anger the night before. 

Last night, when Aaron could no longer keep his eyes open, I helped him get in bed.  His covers were all clean and fresh.  He was ready to get in bed when he remembered that he needed to fill out his notebook.  He had written the time that he got up that morning, so now he wrote the time that he went to bed.  It was 9:52.  Then he asked me to put his snake and his skunk in the bed.  I laid Mr. Snake under the covers and Aaron stood there staring at him.  Then he told me to scoot him over a little, which I did.  Aaron stared again.  And I had to move Mr. Snake once more until he was finally in just the right place.  Then the skunk went in the bed, just right, and finally Aaron got slowly under the covers.

He gave a huge smile as he felt the weight and the warmth of the covers on his tired body.  We hugged and Aaron smiled again.  Then he laughed, and I asked him why. 

“I told Dad I’m glad you took care of me when I had a seizure,” he slowly said. 

All thoughts of anger and name calling vanished at that moment.  I was thankful for the privilege I have to take care of Aaron, and I told him that.  He smiled again as I pulled the covers up until just his smiling face was showing.  I turned off his light, and I closed his door…..and I thought of what a difference a day can make. 

What a difference knowing God makes, too.  I’m glad God takes care of me so that I can take care of Aaron.  And I’m glad that He continues to use Aaron in my life to teach me so many things about Himself. 

Our SUPER Hero

The first one was at 11:46.  The second at 1:33, and the third at 2:48.  Aaron’s seizures last night…..and how I hate them!  I was able to give him some Ativan when I heard him stirring about an hour after the first seizure.  I think the Ativan helped the next two seizures not to be as severe as they usually are.  I lay in bed during those hours, comfortable but unable to sleep as I listened to Aaron through the baby monitor.  I used some of that time to pray, and to ask God to ward off my fearful thoughts about Aaron and about our world.  I prayed for family and for friends as well. 

I don’t remember exactly when Aaron got up from bed this morning, but I am sure that he knows.  I am also sure that he wrote it in his special notebook that holds those important times that he faithfully records, every single day.  He looked more than a little worse for wear as he came into the kitchen, staring at me sitting at the table.  He told me that he didn’t feel well and I told him that he had some seizures, which he never remembers….thankfully.  He took his pills, and I gave him something for his headache as well.  Seizures cause such awful headaches.

Poor Aaron.  Today was movie day with his group, which he loves, and which he would now miss.  So much for his extra-large popcorn with extra butter and extra napkins and anything else extra that Aaron can grab…..such as toothpicks.  But he was comforted later after I texted Barb to ask what movie they were watching today.  I told Aaron that the movie today was to be Sponge Bob, and Aaron lifted up his hands in surrender as he backed up and said, “No!!  Sponge Bob is NOT my favorite!” 

Some things work out like that for Aaron, and some things just don’t.  We can’t pick and choose on what day his seizures will occur, of course.  It’s just extra sad when he has to miss something special because he’s too sick to go, again. 

I was tempted to just stay home all day with him, but as the morning went on he seemed to be feeling pretty good.  He came into my room and I asked him how his head was feeling. 

“It’s becoming fine,” he answered.  I just love the way Aaron phrases responses like that.  It’s uniquely Aaron, and it makes me stop and smile.  He smiled when I asked him if he wanted to go to McDonalds for lunch, and use his gift card that Aunt Sandra gave him for Christmas.  I even got brave and decided that we would eat inside the restaurant, hoping that he didn’t have a seizure there.  He didn’t.  He was mostly slow and quiet, which is typical on the day following a night of seizures.  He lacks his usual zip.  He’s rather flat.  But he did notice the little girl sitting in the booth nearby with her grandmother, and when she noticed him, they waved and Aaron smiled.  It made me thankful that I had decided to go inside to sit.
 

We went to our vet for dog food, and there in the Dillon’s parking lot we saw this huge truck/limo that made us both laugh, and become very curious.  Aaron wanted me to drive behind the truck/limo so that he could try to decode what the personal license plate said.  And inside Dillon’s, as I chose a head of lettuce, Aaron found his favorite……artichokes!  He stopped to look at the Chinese food in the deli as he always does, and as always I had to tell the server that we weren’t buying…..only looking.   Of course, we had to stop to look at the lobsters, shrimp, and crab legs on ice in the seafood department.  It’s best not to be in a hurry if I go to Dillon’s with Aaron.

 
But it pleased me to see him being happy over such mundane things that we take for granted…..especially on this day after his nighttime seizures.  Giving him a little fun doesn’t cost me much at all, but it sure brings priceless joy to my heart, and to his as well.

Just two evenings ago I was telling Andrea on the phone about Aaron’s seizure that morning.  It always makes the kids sad to hear about his seizures.  I told Andrea, though, that it was such a blessing that Aaron doesn’t seem sad over his seizures, really.  He doesn’t talk about all the things he can’t do or how hard it is to be different.  He doesn’t seem to grieve the loss in his life that makes the rest of us sad for him. 

But don’t you know, that very evening, Aaron said, “Mom, I wish scientists could stop my seizures so that I could be normal.”  This comment stopped me in my tracks, and left me struggling for words as Aaron repeated it again in case I hadn’t heard him.  I assured him that I understood, and that I wished scientists could stop his seizures, too.  I walked upstairs with my load of clean towels, swallowing the lump that was suddenly in my throat.  So Aaron does sometimes think thoughts that he doesn’t often share.  He does wish that he could be “normal.”  I was thankful that he expressed himself in a way that he usually doesn’t…..in a way that he finds hard to do.  But his simple comment made my strong outward reserve crack some, and I had to walk away quickly lest he see my tears.

A couple months ago, Aaron excitedly shared with me yet another story from a movie he was watching.  Suddenly he paused as he described the super hero, and he told me that this hero looked like this:

 
This pose was so out-of-character for Aaron that I just laughed and laughed, which delighted Aaron.  He didn’t even mind that I took his picture.  There he was, Aaron posing as this certain super hero.

In reality, though, as I’ve pondered that funny pose, I realize that Aaron truly is a hero.  At least in my book he’s a hero.  He’s a hero for enduring so much pain and so much hurt and so much disappointment over the years……so much physical and emotional hardship.  Yet he continues to go through each day in his Aaron way, hardly ever complaining.  He pushes through each day despite his seizures and his social difficulties.  He sure is an example to me when I feel overwhelmed or tired or discouraged.

I know many parents of special children who would agree with me on this when it comes to their kids, no matter their age.  I hear their stories often.  Children with seizures, Downs, autism, and so many other issues.  Children who just pick themselves up and keep on truckin’.  And parents who love them with all their hearts.  They are heroes as well, and they are all around us. 

So today, and every day, I know that we live with our special SUPER hero.  He teaches me not to give up, on him or anything else in life.  We’ll keep plugging along beside Aaron, trying to care for him and provide for him.  Trying to understand him and to instruct him, especially when his mouth or his hands get out of line. Trying to explain him when necessary, and to defend him if needed. 

And trying to help him believe that he IS normal and wonderful and special……just like a SUPER hero should be. 

Snapshots of Aaron

Sometimes the hours and the days run together.  I think, “Oh, I’d love to share this about Aaron or that about Aaron,” but I run out of time or motivation, or the stories just don’t seem as funny or meaningful as they did when they first happened.  Often, if I don’t write the story soon after it happens, I feel like I lose my inspiration.  What was I trying to convey?  What did I hope to capture? 

So today I was looking at some pictures I had recently taken.  I decided that perhaps I would share a few of those pictures with you in order to just give a little update on life with Aaron.  A life colored by his unique outlook, which has partially developed because of how autism and seizures affect him, and also because of how his personality was shaped by God.

THE TULIPS

A friend came over for lunch last week, surprising me with a bouquet of tulips when I opened the front door.  When Aaron came home that afternoon, he was delighted to see something unusual on the kitchen table.  There were the purple tulips, in a vase of water, just ready for him to examine.  I immediately told him not to touch them, because Aaron loves to not only touch flowers and plants, but to also squeeze them to see if they are real.  Or he’ll pull the petals and leaves.  Therefore, I know to tell him up front to not pull….or squeeze…..or do any other tests for realness. 

 
The tulips wilted over the next few days, so I finally decided one evening that they were ready to throw away.  Aaron was very happy about this, because it meant that he could examine them more fully than he had previously been allowed.  He had fun rubbing the yellow pollen on his finger as we examined the stamens together.  He then pulled some of the petals off and laid them in a little pile.

“I want every petal on every plant!” he exclaimed as he started his petal pile.  But then he stopped and thought a moment as I offered to put the petals in a plastic bag for him.  “No,” he decided.  “They’ll just turn crispy.”  So he abandoned his petal idea as he left the kitchen. 

A couple days later, he was thinking about the missing tulips and he said, “Mom, what species are you going to get now?”  I told him that I probably wouldn’t replace the tulips.  He continued, “You need to get a different species!  Get roses!”  And I decided that Aaron has a great eye for flower species!

THE SOCKS

Everything in Aaron’s life is significant to him.  Even socks.  I don’t know why he sometimes thinks that he should wear a pair of socks more than one day.  I tell him repeatedly to always put his socks in the laundry every day, and then get a clean pair the next morning.  But every now and then he’ll ask, “Tomorrow, can I wear the ones I wore today?”  And I always tell him no. 

“I’m gonna save these,” he said one day.  Why does he act like he needs to preserve his socks?   He didn’t notice my deep sigh as I told him to go count his socks.

“I have four pair,” he reported after a few minutes.   I assured him that four pairs of socks would last four days, and that I would be doing laundry in order to provide him with clean socks…….LOTS of clean socks…….before the four days were up and the four pairs of socks were gone.  

The next day he came up to me and said very seriously, out of the blue, “Now I have three socks.”  That was just this past Sunday, so after church Gary and I ran to Sam’s.  I bought Aaron a package of ten……TEN…….new pairs of socks.  He was happy.  The pressure was off…..for both of us. 
 

But he wasn’t totally finished.  On Sunday night, before he went to bed, he asked, “Do you want me to wear one of those new socks tomorrow?”  Really, sometimes I feel like I’m going to develop a twitch like the Inspector did in the Pink Panther movies.

THE TIME

 
All of you know that Aaron loves EXACT times.  And he loves to do things, like eating lunch when he’s home, at EXACT times.  The other Saturday morning, he got up and came downstairs.  “Mom, I got up at 7:01.” 

“Did you, Aaron?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied.  “But I decided not to come out of my room at 7:01 because I thought 7:01 was too early.”  He stood there staring at me.

“Should I have gotten up at 7:01?” he finally asked when I didn’t give him his desired response. 

I told him that it was fine to get up around 7:00.

“7:01,” he replied.

Whatever.  But I didn’t say that, because it’s very important to Aaron to be precise with time.  I just smiled and let him continue.

“I’m telling Dad I got up at 7:01,” he said as he headed for Gary’s study.  Yep, it’s that important.

THE EATING

Today Aaron stayed home because he had a seizure this morning……at 7:27.  Later, as he had recovered, I asked him if he wanted something to eat before he laid back down.  He looked at the clock, and I knew what was coming.  It wasn’t 12:00.

“Is it 12:00?” he asked.  Then he saw that it wasn’t 12:00. 

“No,” he continued.  “I don’t want to eat until 12:00.”

He woke up later, a little after 12:00, but that was still an allowed time for him to eat lunch because it wasn’t before 12:00.  AFTER 12:00 is allowed.   These things are important to know. 

He ate some pizza.  He often has a spoon with his pizza, and very often he will include the whole set of silverware…..knife, spoon, and fork.  Never mind that he doesn’t use the utensils.  He needs them there beside his plate. 
 

And the bowl, of course, in which he places his pepperoni to be eaten later.   I don’t know why he won’t eat the pepperoni with his pizza, but he rarely does that.  He places the pepperoni in the bowl, and then eats it last, when all the pizza is gone.

THE ANIMALS

I’ve also told you how much Aaron loves his stuffed snake and his stuffed skunk.  They must be in his bed every night, where he meticulously arranges them until they are just right. 

This morning, after Aaron’s seizure, I had to wash his bedding.  This time I also needed to wash his snake and skunk.  The skunk has seen better days.  He had a large rip on his head and he was missing some stuffing.  I mentioned throwing him away, but I could tell Aaron was bothered by that.  So I sewed up the dirty skunk, and then tossed him and Mr. Snake in the wash.  That’s why later we didn’t have snakes on a plane, but we had a snake and a skunk in the dryer.  They are clean now and ready to once again be oh-so-carefully placed into Aaron’s bed tonight. 
 

THE TOOTHPICKS

On our way to church this past Sunday, I climbed in the passenger seat of our van and closed the door.  When I reached for the handle, I saw them…..the toothpicks that Aaron had confiscated a few days earlier from Carlos O’Kelly’s.  Gary and I laughed when I held them up…..a reminder of Aaron and of Aaron’s ways.  He does love his toothpicks, like he loves his silverware that he often doesn’t even use.

 
That’s how it is with Aaron.  We see his marks all around us in the ways that he lives his life.  It seems no matter where we turn, we are reminded of Aaron and of his special ways.  We may laugh, or roll our eyes, or bite our tongues, or sigh deeply, but there’s no getting away from all the ways that Aaron leaves his mark on our lives and in our hearts. 

And we are richer for it. 

 

 

  

 

I Love This Day

Aaron had an appointment this afternoon with his Epilepsy doctor, and as always on doctor days, he and I went out to eat lunch.  Aaron loves these lunch dates, not necessarily because of the company but because of the FOOD.  But maybe I’m wrong about that, because when we pulled into the parking lot of Carlos O’Kelly’s and were taking off our seat belts, Aaron said, “I love this day.”  That made me smile a huge smile as I asked Aaron why he loves this day.  “I love this day with you,” he said. 

So OK, my heart was sufficiently melted and I was surprised I could walk into the restaurant.  Yet Aaron was already leading the way, so I had no choice but to follow.  He beat me into the entrance and was already rolling the little toothpick dispenser around as he gathered up three or four toothpicks…..while the greeters greeted him and Aaron ignored them.  The girl who ushered us to our booth smiled broadly, though, and I could tell that she understood and liked Aaron.  We moms of special children just know.   Aaron was oblivious of any of this.  He was just happy to have had the time to get several toothpicks before picky Mom made him stop……and I wondered if he still loved this day with me.

We sat down, and before our understanding greeter could hand us our menus, Aaron was already telling her that he wanted water.  Except he always asks if he can have water, as if he needs permission.  She and I both told him at the same time that our server would bring water, but Aaron was already opening his menu.  He needs lots of time to try to match what he wants to eat with the pictures that are shown.  Our greeter also handed us a special menu that was for items that would only be available for the next week.  She told us that this menu was for us to keep along with the two regular menus.

Our pleasant server introduced himself as Aaron quickly asked him if he could have water, and soon Aaron and I were looking at our menus.  Our water came, but no straws…..and straws are a staple to Aaron.  Our server immediately realized his mistake, apologized, and hurried off to bring us straws.  “He’s clumsy,” Aaron said.   “He forgot our straws!”  I was thankful that Aaron didn’t repeat this to our server when he returned to take our order.  I handed him our menus when we were through placing our orders, but I forgot the special menu laying off to the side.  He asked for it as well, and after I gave it to him, Aaron said that he thought that this menu was ours to take home.  I realized then that Aaron had pushed it to the side in order to hide it.

“Why did you think it was ours to take home?” I asked. 

“Because that girl told us to keep it,” Aaron patiently replied. 

As so often happens, statements that often slip right past me certainly don’t slip past Aaron.  Literal Aaron.

We munched on chips and salsa, and when Aaron’s salad came he dug right in to that…..only pausing to grab another chip or two here and there because he didn’t want me to eat them all.  He always keeps a close eye on the chip bowl when we eat at Carlos O’Kelly’s.  Soon our meals came, and when the plates were in front of us I took a bite of my enchilada.  Aaron looked at me eye to eye and said, “Are we gonna pray?”  He held his hand across the table for me to hold as we always do…..and my heart melted again.  How could I forget to ask the blessing?  But Aaron remembered….and I’m almost glad that I forgot because it showed me that Aaron remembers!  He remembers these important lessons…even when silly Mom doesn’t!

Aaron watched the servers as we ate, and he listened as I thanked our server for filling Aaron’s glass with water or bringing us extra napkins.  “We’re nice to the staff, right?” he asked.  I agreed that we should be nice to the staff…..the servers.  “It’s hard to be staff,” Aaron continued.  He knows that sometimes people aren’t kind to servers and this bothers him.  I remembered the last time that we ate here.  One of the servers dropped a napkin, and Aaron looked at her.  “Hey!” he said.  “You spilled your napkin.”  It was funny and sweet, and I was glad that she laughed and that she thanked Aaron for pointing out her napkin that spilled.  

Soon we saw a group of servers singing Happy Birthday to a diner.  Aaron, who doesn’t like having Happy Birthday sung to him….or to anyone, really…..did not care for this display of silliness.  “Oh my word!” he said.  “Tell those people to shut up.  We’re trying to eat!”  So much for being kind!  I was very thankful that we had an end booth, and that for once Aaron spoke rather softly.

As we finished eating, our server asked if we would like dessert.  I declined, saying that we were full, but Aaron didn’t want to let that idea slip away.   Dessert sounded very good to him today.  “Why didn’t you order dessert?” he asked.  I told him that we didn’t need dessert, and besides, we were full.  He wasn’t convinced, I could tell.

“Are you full?” I asked him. 

“Yes,” he truthfully answered, before thinking of the consequences of admitting fullness.

He recovered quickly.  “I mean, not TOTALLY full,” he explained.

I laughed….and still said that I did not want dessert.

“But I mean dessert, just for me,” he countered.

Good try, Aaron, but it’s still a no.  So we got up from our booth.  I headed one way and Aaron headed the other, so I turned to head him off, wondering what he was doing.  Aaron saw our server and I saw what Aaron was doing. 

“BYE!” Aaron said as he waved.  It was another sweet moment, and I was so thankful that our server…..our staff, as Aaron says…..told Aaron goodbye. 

I like Aaron to walk in front of me when possible in interesting places like restaurants.  That’s so I can intercept him when he stops to stare at someone’s food….or pulls the leaves of the plants…..or stops to feel the texture on the walls…..or any number of other unique behaviors.  Like how he stopped today to feel a fake cactus on our way out, and comment loudly about its fakeness. 

Of course, he immediately stopped at the faithful toothpick dispenser as we passed it before leaving.  Out came two more toothpicks as he turned the knob.  Our understanding greeter just smiled and I was relieved. 

I had told Aaron earlier that we were having chicken for supper.  As we left the restaurant, I asked him why he got more toothpicks. 

“They’re for the chicken tonight,” he flatly answered. 

Of course.  I should have known that.   

We had to interrupt our fun by going to the doctor and talking about adding a new medicine….and taking away another medicine……and doing a sleep study…..and discussing Aaron’s hand tremor….

But Aaron also had the doctor laughing about how the Rocketeer looks like a grasshopper in his mask…..and how the holes in the ceiling of the exam room were made by paper needles……and many other comments that only Aaron makes.

He had me standing in the corner of the elevator as we left the Epilepsy Center so that I could feel what he feels from that vantage point as the elevator went down.  It was just the two of us in the elevator, but I knew that if there were others in there, Aaron would still have insisted that I stand in the corner so that I could enjoy what he enjoys.  He bent over and rubbed his hands together in great delight, and we exited the elevator laughing and talking about what we felt.

We went into Best Buy on the way home, and Aaron immediately stopped at the entrance to ask the employee there if they had the Beauty and The Beast DVD….and I so resented how that guy looked at Aaron as if he was a Martian.  He needs to ride in an elevator with Aaron, I thought.  He needs to look at life through Aaron’s eyes instead of looking at Aaron through his uncaring eyes.  He has no idea what he’s missing.

Hey, Aaron!  Guess what?  I love this day!  And you know why?

Because I love this day with you. 

 

DO Sweat the Small Stuff!

Aaron seems to have almost fully recovered from his no good, very bad seizure episodes that began on Thursday night and went into early Saturday morning.  This was a tough round for Aaron, taking a huge toll on him physically and mentally.  He slept and slept…..he’s been very slow in both mind and body…..and he hasn’t wanted to eat much.  Not eating much is a sure sign that he isn’t himself.  He also developed a sore throat that didn’t help, and of course his bitten tongue has made eating difficult.  Yesterday, on Sunday, we saw more of the old Aaron return….and it was a welcome sight, even when he was trying to feed the dog. 

On Saturday he finally woke up “for real” around 12:45, meaning that he was more alert and more able to really talk to us.  It was around lunch time….although we know lunch time to Aaron is as close to 12:00 sharp as he can make it……but I offered to heat him some potato soup anyway.  I had made the soup the day before…..the day of his terrible seizures…..but all that day he hadn’t been able to eat a thing.  I hoped he could enjoy his favorite soup on Saturday, so I heated him a bowl.  He couldn’t eat it, though, stopping after managing only a couple spoons full.  I put it back in the frig, and he hasn’t touched it since. 

Something else unusual is that he offered to take a shower without being prompted.  He actually wanted to shower, so as soon as he was steadier we let him get cleaned up.  Later, he and I went on a walk around the yard with Jackson.  It was good for Aaron to get some fresh air on that beautiful, warm January day.  Then we soon got in the van and drove up to check out the car wash, which was still too crowded, so we went on down to the Little Caesar’s pizza shop.  He and I waited in the drive-through line, and soon I looked over and asked Aaron if he wanted some bread sticks.  I rarely let Aaron have bread sticks, though he always wants them.  He just doesn’t need the extra calories when he’s going to eat so much pizza.  He was very surprised when it was ME who brought up bread sticks.

“Yeah!!” he responded when I asked him if he wanted them.  His eyes brightened and he was very happy…..and I was happy, too.  What a little thing that meant a LOT to Aaron.  And to me, if anyone deserved some bread sticks at this moment, it was Aaron.

Once at home, he only barely managed to eat one piece of pizza and one bread stick.  Normally, he would have tried to wrangle that whole pizza down his throat, plus all the bread sticks.  Honestly!  But not on Saturday, when he was still recovering, and also fighting that sore throat and damaged tongue.

Aaron continued to recover yesterday, gaining his strength and his spunk.  His appetite still wasn’t back to normal, but he was talking more and managing the stairs more easily.  He began to watch his Indiana Jones movies that he had started last week…..and we knew he was feeling more like himself when he started talking to us about them as well.  I know that Gary and I will soon tire of his repetitious talk about these movies, but I also know that we will relish having old Aaron back with us.  Remind me I said that in a day or two when my brain is numb from his constant talking.

I stood in Aaron’s room on Friday night, when he was still so affected by the seizures, and I watched him get ready for bed.  I helped him get the covers on his bed just right according to Aaron standards, and then I stepped back as he finished his routine.  He was slow and unsteady, but nothing was going to stop him from getting his room exactly perfect. 

He carefully pulled back his covers, and every bit as carefully placed his stuffed snake in his bed.  He made sure that Mr. Snake was very straight, with just enough of his head on the pillow.  Then Aaron took his old stuffed skunk and placed him right beside Mr. Snake, just so-so.  The skunk’s little tail was arranged correctly, along with his paws and his head.  Aaron didn’t speak a word, working slowly with purpose……and slowly because of the seizure effects.  He pulled the covers up when he was finished, letting Mr. Snake’s snout still show, but totally covering the little skunk.

Then Aaron smoothed out any wrinkles that he had made in his covers before he headed around the bed to pull back the covers on his side.  He got his long pillow situated just the way he likes it, pulled over to just a certain point that only Aaron knows.  He made sure that his nightstand items were still where they were supposed to be, in the right place and order.  Then he picked up his notebook in which he writes the times that he gets up in the mornings and the times that he goes to bed at night.  He had to write in the time for that morning since it was blank because of his seizures.  I watched him write 8:17 A.M., although I knew that was not the correct time that he got out of bed.  I wouldn’t tell him that, though, not for anything.  Then he wrote down his going to bed time and carefully closed his notebook, placing it back in the floor with the pen on top, just right. 

 
He still had his glasses on, so I asked him if he wanted me to put them on his bookshelf for him.  He agreed as he slowly took them off, handing them to me.  “Put them by my watch,” he instructed me as I turned to lay them on the top shelf.  So I did as I was told, and I laughed inwardly as Aaron leaned around to examine my placement.  I hoped it was correct…..and it was….so Aaron was finally, I hoped, ready to actually get in his bed for the night.

I got his covers pulled up close around him the way he loves, and we talked for a minute before I turned his lamp off.  But just as I was shutting his door, as he so often does, I heard him say, “Mom?”  So I opened the door and said, “Yes?”  And he paused before I heard, “Mom?  Is it almost 10:00?” 

“Yes, Aaron, it’s almost 10:00,” I assured him.  You see, Aaron can barely tolerate going to bed before 10:00.  So just as his snake and his skunk and his covers and his pillow and his nightstand and his going-to-bed and his getting-up times and his glasses beside his watch and his covers pulled up…..ALL had to be JUST right…..so did his actual time to bed.  Or at least as close to right as possible.  He had to ask, even though his clock was there beside him on his nightstand right where it was supposed to be.  I guess he just had to hear Mom confirm to him that it was near enough to 10:00 to go to sleep.  The world would still turn, even though it wasn’t exactly 10:00….or later.  So I closed the door and Aaron quickly fell asleep.

Aaron doesn’t act like his seizures greatly concern him.  If they do, he doesn’t say much about it.  He has wished that he didn’t have seizures and that he didn’t need to take pills, but he doesn’t seem to get depressed or sad about it.  He manages to push on ahead despite the pain and the side effects that the seizures cause.  But don’t mess with his bedtime routine!  Don’t ask him, if he has any cognizance at all, to go to bed with his two stuffed animals out of place or his covers wrinkled or his glasses not beside his watch or his time not written in his notebook.  That would be disastrous!

These facts are some of what is so amazing about autism, and about Aaron.   I guess, in the long run, it helps Gary and I handle the stresses of Aaron’s situation a little easier.  We talked about Aaron’s bedtime routine that night, and we laughed…..when there hadn’t been much to laugh about that day, for sure.  We laughed because Aaron is truly unique, and his being unique is often a cause for us to smile and even laugh. 

I can’t take away Aaron’s seizures, but I can usually accommodate his desire for order and routine in his world.  My world, and Gary’s world, may be anything but orderly in the process…..but that’s OK. 

And one more thing.  You know the saying, “Don’t sweat the small stuff?”  With Aaron it’s just the opposite.  He DOES sweat the small stuff, and seems to let the big stuff roll off his back.  Sometimes that’s very freeing when we stop to consider that the big stuff in Aaron’s life is at times really serious.  It helps get our minds off our sadness and fear as we are pulled by Aaron into focusing on stuffed snakes and wrinkled bed covers.

Leave it to Aaron to pull us into his world, and to get our minds off of our other worries……with a stuffed snake, no less!     

 

 

The Darkness

On Thursday evening, Gary and I noticed that Aaron didn’t seem quite like himself.  He became lethargic as the evening wore on, even falling asleep sitting up in his favorite family room chair.  Then he wanted to go to bed early…..and for Aaron to agree to a bedtime before at least 10:00 is very unusual.  It’s like his lunch at 12:00 mindset.  Bedtime should not occur before 10:00 in Aaron’s world, so his desire to head on up to bed at 9:30 combined with his tiredness made Gary and I wonder what was going on with him.  

Therefore, we weren’t too surprised to hear him having a seizure a couple hours later.  It was a very hard seizure, lasting about four minutes.  Three other long, hard seizures followed that one during the night.  He wet the bed after the second one, bit his tongue during the third one, and I walked in his room at his fourth seizure to find him on the floor.  We have no idea how that happened, because he was in a sitting position with his back against his night stand.  Blood was coming from his mouth as he bit his tongue again.  Gary and I eventually got him back in bed, and then later before Gary went to work he was able to get Aaron a little cleaned up before helping him downstairs to the couch.   

 
Aaron slept all day, with only a few short waking moments when I was able to give him his pills or something to drink.  At 3:30 he woke up and told me that he didn’t feel like going to Paradigm.  He was so shocked when I told him that it was 3:30 in the afternoon……that he had totally missed Paradigm that day and didn’t have to worry about it.  He had no memory and no idea of what had happened. 

I don’t tell all this to garner sympathy or to any way embarrass Aaron.  I tell these things in an effort to share with others the faithfulness of God in the midst of pain…..the pain of a mother for her son, in our case……the shared pain of parents bearing this burden together………and the pain of fear that often tries to settle its icy grip in our hearts.

This seizure episode for Aaron has been a bad one.  In fact, he had another small seizure early this morning.  He got up later but wanted to go right back to bed.  His tongue is extremely sore and damaged, and he also has a sore throat now.  Worry and sadness could easily be my companion this morning.

Sadness was definitely near me yesterday morning as I sat at the kitchen table while Aaron slept nearby.  At times like this, I desire to hear from God.  I know that the comfort He gives is like no other.  I don’t doubt Him.  I don’t question why he allows this to happen.  I’ve gotten to know Him over the years and I know that He is always loving, and good, and that His sovereignty is beyond my understanding.  I trust Him.  What I desire is His comfort during the moments when my heart is a little fractured, and my emotions are raw.

I would like to remain free of emotion when it comes to Aaron and his special needs.  Emotion hurts.  Emotion means that I’m thinking of Aaron and what he is enduring…..and what he’s missing in life……and what the future might hold.  But how can a mother keep her son at arm’s length and not at times deeply hurt over his pain?

Such was my morning yesterday.  I was hit with the reality of Aaron’s suffering.  I cried.  I just let myself feel the pain for a few moments and I cried in my hands.  And God saw His daughter crying and He comforted me.  I love, love, love how He speaks to me through His Word when I need it the most.  I’ve started reading Daniel, and there it was.  My eyes fell on Daniel 2:22:  “…..He knows what is in the darkness, and the light dwells with Him.”

Most of Aaron’s seizures are during the night as he sleeps.  I detest that sound coming out of the baby monitor on my nightstand…..the sound of Aaron’s seizure beginning.  It jolts me out of sleep and it always fills me with dread.  I never get used to that awful sound.  And the darkness.  Our room is dark, the hall is dimly lit, and Aaron’s room is very dark.  I turn on his light, not knowing what I will see, and I stay with him until the seizure is over and I know he is safe.

Then usually I will hear that gasping sound later again coming from the monitor as another seizure begins.  The scene is repeated…..the darkness…..the dread…..the fear.

So this verse from Daniel was very special to me.  Once again, God reached down to me in my particular situation and spoke especially to me as the loving Father that He is.  He knows!  He knows what is in that darkness that I face, whether it’s the physical darkness of nighttime seizures or the darkness that fills my soul with fear for Aaron.

And guess what else?  Listen to Psalm 139:11-12:  “If I say, surely the darkness will overwhelm me and the light around me will be night….even the darkness is not darkness to You, and the night is as bright as the day.  Darkness and light are alike to You.”

Those words are so sweet to me.  I felt overwhelmed yesterday with hurt and fear for Aaron.  It’s a darkness as real as the darkness I face when I am awakened with the sound of his night seizures.  But God is there in the dark.  He’s the light!  There is no darkness to Him.  He knows my dark fears and He knows my pain, yet He was there yesterday to remind me that He is light in my darkness.  He knows what is in my darkness as I hear Aaron seizing, and as my own heart is seized with sadness and with dread.

I can trust Him with my pain, and I can trust Him with my son.  He said that darkness and light are the same with Him…..and that the night is as bright as the day.  His promises and His peace are my light in the darkest dark.

So I took our beautiful bright sunrise this morning as God’s personal gift to me.  I relished it as His reminder that no matter how often I feel that the light around me will be night, God says, “No way!  The light dwells with me….and so do you, little daughter.  Now enjoy My light, even when it seems dark.”

We have a good God.

 

 

 

 

 

Love Rules!

Here we are.  It’s the third day of our new year.  The third day of new beginnings, so I’m told, and new attitudes…..new challenges and new goals……new everything.  But I have our washing machine running this morning and it’s reminding me that the sameness of life also continues despite my desire to work up some enthusiasm for newness.  Aaron had a seizure last night and so once again I am washing his bedding from the mattress pad up to the top layer…..his favorite cheetah blanket, or whatever animal it represents.  I’m not complaining at all.  It’s our life and I’m thankful that I’m here to be a part of it, and to care for Aaron.  It’s certainly not new.

Aaron doesn’t care for new, unless it’s a new video or a new bag of candy.  He doesn’t like new routines or new schedules, and he doesn’t like the people or the holidays that cause a disruption to his sameness.  On Thanksgiving Day, Aaron came into the kitchen while I was preparing our meal.  He asked when we would be eating.  I told him it would probably be around 2:00.  He stared at me for a few seconds and then said, “That’s why I was thinking if I could eat lunch.”  I didn’t have to look at the clock to know that it was nearly 12:00 and to Aaron, 12:00 means lunch……Thanksgiving Day or not.  He did agree to wait for his meal, but he did give remaining in his routine his best effort as well.

We try not to give in to Aaron’s routine oriented way of viewing the world when there are special days or events to consider.  We give it our best effort in order to include Aaron in our family traditions and our special times together.  Yet we know that at times it’s not only difficult but nearly impossible for Aaron to comfortably enter into our celebrations together as a family.  The complexities of his autistic world, at times, will simply not allow him to move beyond a certain point.  There are several reasons for this dilemma that he…..and we……face during the holidays.

One reason revolves around conversation.  Aaron doesn’t understand and is rarely able to enter into the normal ebb and flow of family conversation.  Andrea and Andrew both came home for Christmas on Christmas Eve.  We sat around the table and talked that evening, and all of us noticed Aaron.  He had moved to one end of the table.  His eyes darted back and forth between us as we talked.  We were catching up with Andrea and Andrew……their lives…….their jobs……their friends.   Soon Aaron would loudly interject with his “Hey!!”  And we would all look to him as we gave him an opening to talk, but he often didn’t quite know what to do with this opportunity to enter into our flow of talk.  So he would pause and then he would continue.  “Uh…..well…..did you know that my favorite character on Phantom of the Opera is the Phantom?!” 

His comment didn’t fit at all into what the rest of us were discussing, but we’re used to this with Aaron, so we all commented in some way.  We really tried to act as interested in what he was saying as we did with the rest of our conversation, but sometimes it’s hard.  And if you give Aaron an inch, he’ll take a few dozen miles and he’ll talk until the rest of us are…….honestly……..bored beyond words.  So after we all responded to Aaron, we would pick up our conversation where we had left off and once again Aaron would sit there with darting eyes and bated breath, waiting for his next opportunity.  “Hey!!”  And we waited.  “Uh…..well……did you know that there’s a Queen alien?  Is she bigger than the other aliens?  Why do you think there’s a Queen alien?”  So then it’s our turn to say, “Uh….well…..we didn’t know that, Aaron.”  Come on.  Show interest……show enthusiasm for Queen aliens and for Phantoms and for whatever else Aaron chooses to talk about, we’re all telling ourselves. 

Another reason that Aaron gets stuck during the holidays in his point of no return is the change in his routine.  Everything is messed up.  His meal times……watching Wheel of Fortune with Mom…..bedtime rituals, especially if Mom doesn’t come right away to say goodnight……playing SkipBo……..having his bathroom to himself……and so much more.  His brain is soon on overload, no matter how Gary and I try to maintain his sense of normalcy. 

The third reason for Aaron’s holiday struggles……and probably the straw that breaks the camel’s back……is having to share his time and space with others.  Aaron has gotten used to being the only “child” at home now.  He is doing better with having Andrea and Andrew come for visits…..probably because he knows he can talk and talk to someone other than Mom and Dad.  We weren’t sure how he would react to Megan, Andrew’s girlfriend, being here again this year.  Megan arrived the day after Christmas.  I was a little nervous, but I greatly relaxed as we all stood in the kitchen chatting and I noticed that Aaron was happily talking.  Soon I had him tell Megan about his movie of the moment…..Phantom of the Opera……which fortunately is one of Megan’s favorites.  Aaron loved feeling included as all eyes focused on him, and he really enjoyed our interest in hearing him sing his favorite Phantom of the Opera song.  He’s hilarious when he sings and we all laughed with him as he relished being the star.

 
And then I goofed.  Aaron had returned to his room, so I asked Andrew to go up and tell Aaron that it was time to eat.  There are reasons that this wasn’t a good idea, but suffice it to say that Aaron from that point forward began to do down the path of frustration and anger.  He wanted me to come get him for dinner, for one thing, and though we roll our eyes at that, it was this important to Aaron.  His nearly overloaded system was beginning to crack under the holiday strain.  He was rude to Andrew during lunch and we knew then that we were facing an uphill battle.  When we later opened presents from Megan, Aaron sat with his back to Megan and Andrew.  He was edgy still. 

Then off we went to walk through Botanica and see the Christmas lights.  It was cold and we all bundled up, and piled in the van……including Aaron.  I let him have his favorite, normal passenger seat, beside Gary.  And wonderful Gary walked beside Aaron and kept defusing him the whole way through Botanica.  You can see in the pictures that Aaron is NOT seen.  When he’s in this frame of mind, you can forget pictures.  They only make him angrier.  We were way down that frustration path at this point.

 
 
We got home and I was hurriedly taking off my coat, getting ready to set out all the snack foods to enjoy while we played our Christmas games.  Aaron knew he was welcome to stay downstairs and play the games with us, but Aaron detests this part of Christmas.  He doesn’t like the silliness and the loud laughter…..at all!  And in the mood he was already in, we knew he wouldn’t want to stay.  So as I removed my coat, Aaron turned to me and loudly said, “Mom, I wish Andrea and Andrew and Megan would just leave, and that I could have things normal again!”

Embarrassing, yes…….especially because Megan is still new to all this and we so wanted her to feel welcome.  Thankfully she’s kind and understanding.  You must be in these situations with Aaron.  But Aaron’s comment was also telling as he revealed, in his blunt way, that he wanted his normal life back.  The night went downhill from there, if that was possible.  The five of us totally enjoyed the games, but we were often interrupted by Aaron’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the floor as he came down to check things out.  He really wanted to enter in, I believe, but he didn’t know how to comfortably do that.  At one point, he looked at the container full of wrapped Bingo gifts and he softly asked if he could have one.  That made us sad.  Of course, we let him unwrap one and he was happy to get a Wal-Mart gift card.  Then off he went to stew in his anger some more.

 
Aaron and I eventually ended up in my bedroom, where he talked angrily about how we only love Andrea and Andrew, and only want to talk to them….and to Megan.  He cried for a long time, a sure sign of deep frustration.  My heart hurt for him as I tried to comfort and assure him of our love.  I really believe that Aaron senses a difference in how we talk…..our inflections and our words……when we talk to him compared to the others.  Try as we might, we can’t manufacture the same interest in his comments compared to theirs.    Aaron is perceptive……so perceptive. 

I also know that he needs repercussions for poor behavior, so I took the movie away that Andrew got him for Christmas, as well as the lap desk from Megan.  Finally Aaron came downstairs, face and eyes red from crying, and he gave a semi-apology to them.  I helped him into bed, but it wasn’t long before we heard him coming back downstairs.  He walked into the room where we sat, tensely waiting for another outburst.  But in his hand he carried his Ghostbusters movie, which he thrust toward Andrew.  “Hey Andrew!” he enthusiastically said.  “Have you seen this movie?”  And Andrew, with equal enthusiasm, said that he had and then he said, “Who you gonna call?”  Aaron laughed and took the movie back upstairs…..and we knew that his crisis was over and all was well once again.

The next morning, Aaron wanted to give some of his crescent rolls to Megan and Andrew for breakfast.  And when they left for a couple days, and returned to see us again, Aaron was fine with that.  I wish this scenario wouldn’t be repeated next year, but I’m realistic enough……we all are…..to know that it very well might be.  I returned Aaron’s movie and lap desk from Andrew and Megan to him, hoping that he understood the consequences of poor behavior and the reward of good behavior.  We always hope that Aaron will understand and that things will click in his brain, but his brain isn’t like ours at all.

 
So we do our best to understand Aaron, and to love him in all his unique and often frustrating ways.  Like Andrea said to Megan on the night I was upstairs with Aaron, as they cleaned the kitchen…..”So now you see what it’s like to be a part of our family.”

Yes, it’s not easy to be a part of this family sometimes.  Sometimes I think…..AUTISM RULES.   But then I realize that only one thing really rules.  LOVE RULES!!  We don’t necessarily love autism, but we all love Aaron.  We seek to understand autism, and therefore better understand Aaron.  I see growth in all of us that has occurred over the years.  It’s the growth based on our experiences with Aaron, and growth based on knowing that Aaron may improve in some areas, but he will never be totally like the rest of us. 

We may feel beat up and tired and angry ourselves, but we must remember that love rules over all.  God’s love for all of us, and our love for each other and for Aaron, will remain firm during these rough spells.  There’s nothing new about that, even in this new year. 

What a long post!  I have laundry to put in the dryer, and much more to wash.

With love. 
 

 

 

Glittery Moments

 

My day yesterday, Sunday, began at 4:12….to be precise, like Aaron.  Aaron had a seizure for the second early Sunday in a row.  Then he had another at 5:45, so I just stayed up then, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.  This is a very busy, tiring time for everyone.  To start my day off so physically tired wasn’t what I had planned, but as usual my thoughts went to Aaron and how awful he was going to feel when he woke up.

 

I heard him upstairs through the baby monitor later in the morning, stirring and stretching and then getting out of bed.  I knew that he was marking his wake-up time in his notebook that he uses to record all that important information about his life.  Later he slowly made his way down the stairs.  I noticed that he had on a different pair of pajamas than he had worn to bed, and I knew right away what had happened.  I went up to his room after he and I talked for a minute to gather up his wet linens…..all of them, including his waterproof mattress pad.  Poor Aaron.  Such hard seizures take a toll on him, and can be embarrassing as well.

 

So the day began in earnest with mounds of laundry and mounds of Christmas preparations and plans to accomplish.  I was thankful for the time that day to prep and plan, but as the day wore on I was very aware of my fatigue…..fatigue that was probably only going to increase as the week continued.

 

That evening, as I finally cleaned off the kitchen table to some degree, I was looking forward to a little time to chill out.  Catch up on Facebook, look at emails, read the news…..   But of course, I wasn’t downstairs very long before Aaron came thumping down the stairs.  First he talked to Gary about the movie he had finished watching today, and then the current movie he was now watching.  Soon he came to me at my computer, and began the same recitation.  Gary and I finally had to tell him that movie talk needed to stop.  We were depleted when it came to his long movie reviews and endless questions.

 

I had told Aaron earlier that maybe we could play a game of SkipBo……emphasis on MAYBE.  As Aaron left me at my computer, the last thing I really wanted to do was to drag myself back upstairs and play a game of cards with Aaron.  I was tired.  And I was very weary of listening to all the movie talk.  But we hadn’t played SkipBo in a while.  This time of year takes much of the fun time away.  I felt badly for Aaron, who asks me every single night of his life to let him know if we can “do something, like SkipBo …..”

 

It was around 9:30 when I went upstairs and asked Aaron if he wanted to play a game of SkipBo.  He was very happy to hear me ask that question, so while he took his pills I shuffled the cards.  We had a normal game, with me having to monitor Aaron’s every move in case he cheated and with Aaron thinking he had to monitor my texting with Andrea.  I could feel my nerves getting a little more worn.  Of all nights to have a slow game, this was not the night!  But was it ever a slow game!  Where were all the 3’s?!  I was getting irritated for sure.

 

Finally the game was over!  I wasn’t nearly as happy about winning as I was happy that I could go to bed at last……after turning off all the Christmas lights, fixing the coffee pot, helping Aaron get his bed all perfectly ready, and listening to his non-stop chatter.  Ugh!  All these thoughts were going through my mind as I put the cards back in their box.  I looked up then to see Aaron sitting very still across the table from me, peering down at something on the table.

 

“Mom?” he asked.  “What’s this?”  I thought he was pointing to a little indention on our distressed kitchen table that’s become much more distressed under Aaron’s attention.  I brushed him off with a quick “I don’t know.  It’s just a little dot.   A little mark.”

 

Aaron wasn’t deterred.  “No,” he said.  “It’s sparkling.”

 

And I knew then what “it” was.  “It” was a tiny little piece of glitter from all the wrapping paper and glittery tissue paper I had used that day.  Of course, Aaron noticed this miniscule piece of glitter that to most of us would have gone totally unseen.  Or seen, but not cared about.

 

Not so with Aaron.  He was intrigued by the tiny sparkle that caught his eye.  He knew that it was worth exploring, so he did.  Furthermore, he hoped that I would do the same.  I was headed to the coffee pot when I stopped and turned around.  There sat Aaron, pointing to the itty bitty glitter, and I was drawn to that scene as I stood there for a few seconds.  I smiled as I realized that I should not miss this moment.  So I walked back over to the table, and I bent over the little glitter particle with Aaron.  We both smiled as we noticed the glitter’s tiny shimmer.  I realized that this glitter wasn’t round, but that it had definite sides.  I counted six sides, and so Aaron and I talked about the fact that this glitter piece was in reality a hexagon.  It was pretty and sparkly and more complex than either of us realized until we took the time to look at it carefully.

 

All day today I’ve been thinking about that glitter moment with Aaron, and what I would have missed had I dismissed his interest in favor of a coffee pot to fix and Christmas lights to unplug.  I would have missed a sweet moment with Aaron……a time of simple sharing…….a smile……a discovery.

 

At this time of year, especially, but at any time of year, I need to often remind myself to stop my fussing and flittering……and to take some time to see what Aaron sees.  Take some time to see who Aaron IS.  See the world through his eyes, with all its complexity and its beauty.

 

And to apply this lesson to so many other areas of my life as well.  Stop to see what’s around me that’s not so obvious, lest I miss out on some real beauty and some sweet moments.  Don’t let my schedule or my tiredness rob me of discovering some sweet moments with those I love…..or with those whom I need to know better…..or with those that I can help.

 

Coffee pots and other chores will always be there.  Glitter has a way of blowing in the wind and never being seen again.  I need to treasure it while I can……with Aaron, of course.

 

Peace Among the Bumps

Today was the day for Aaron’s scheduled MRI, a test being done because of a change in his seizures and the additional worry of an annoying Parkinson’s-like tremor in his right hand.  Aaron, thankfully, has never minded medical tests or doctor visits of any kind, so today he woke up happy and ready to go to his appointment.  Of course, we all know that these appointments are just a side trip to Aaron.  The real purpose that he is going, in his mind, is our restaurant of choice for lunch, and the trip to Wal-Mart or some other fun store that also awaits.  Therefore, on this day, his brain MRI was a bump in the road on his way to his true destination.

He came in my bathroom to check on my hair and make-up progress.  He had showered, dressed, and enjoyed his coffee.  He knew that we would leave around 10:00, so he was trying to busy himself with a movie or a game in his room……until he remembered that Mom sometimes needs hurrying, no matter how many times she says that she does NOT need another hurry-up reminder.

As he stood there watching my progress…..or lack thereof, in his opinion……I told him that if it worked out, we would get his hair cut on the way to his MRI.  IF it worked out, I repeated…..and then I progressed through the usual disclaimer list.  IF I could get ready in time (which he seriously doubted)…..IF Aaron was ready (and he let me know that he was!)…….IF Great Clips wasn’t crowded. 

“I know, I know,” he exclaimed as he left the bathroom.  But in no time at all he was back again….standing there staring at me as I fixed my face, as if his staring could or would hurry me forward. 

Finally, as he turned to walk away, he said, “Tell me when you’re ready…..are you about ready?”  He barely took a breath between the statement and the question.  I laughed and told him, “NO!  I am NOT about ready!”…..and he knew it was time to leave Mom to her face, all by herself.

Finally, I WAS ready and so out the door we went.  I had checked Aaron in online and when we got there, he was taken right away to a booth.  Most of the girls there know Aaron by now.  He’s pretty unforgettable after one exposure, trust me.  As he sat down, he immediately launched into what movie he was currently watching.  Godzilla!!  Loud talk ensued about giant lizards and triceratops and saving the world and wanting to know if she had watched the new Godzilla yet.

 
She asked Aaron if he was ready for Christmas and he loudly replied, “MOM?  Are we?”  And I said we were close.  Then he told her that his brother and sister were coming over for Christmas.  She asked if they live far away, and he said that his sister lives in Texas and…..”MOM?  Where does Andrew live?”  So I answered, and was aware that everyone in Great Clips was learning a lot about us.  She asked him if his hair looked the way he wanted it.  “MOM?  Does it?”  Oh dear.

And then came her innocent question.  “So Aaron, what are you doing when you leave here?”

And very matter-of-factly he answered her.  “I’m going to the hospital to get an MRI.”

The words seemed to hang thick in the air.  He wasn’t talking Godzilla, or eating out, or shopping, or Christmas at that point.  I wondered if she was sorry she had asked him this question, but how could she have known?  And good old Aaron wasn’t the least bit fazed by his answer.  He told her he was getting an MRI as casually as he had told her that he was watching Godzilla. 

So I tried to not let my thoughts faze me, either.  My thoughts were how normal Aaron made it sound that he was going to the hospital for an MRI…..how casual he seemed about it…..because he really is casual about it.  He’s not worried or alarmed at all.  He’s not sad or embarrassed.  And I know I must not be either…..for his sake as well as my own.

Yes, I sat there wishing that Aaron could have answered her question on this day with nothing more than something normal and fun to be doing after his hair cut.  I’m going to a movie……or I’m going Christmas shopping……or I’m going out with my friends.  Yes, I was going to make sure that Aaron had some fun to look forward to today.  But first….the MRI.

The hair dresser told Aaron she hoped it went well, and as we checked out I made a comment about how the doctor was looking to see if Aaron had a brain.  Aaron laughed and everyone laughed, and we walked out the door with Aaron off on his next subject.

But on the drive to the hospital, my thoughts were back there at Great Clips and my heart was a little heavy.  Then there it was……playing on our Christmas CD…..Amy Grant singing “Silent Night.”  The song that somehow always reminds me of my dad and that always tugs at my heart was not the song I was sure I wanted to hear right then.  I blinked back tears.

            Silent Night, Holy Night

            All is calm, all is bright…..

Sometimes all is not calm.  Sometimes all is not bright. 

            Round yon virgin, mother and child.

            Holy infant so tender and mild……

But I knew then, as I have been greatly reminded over the past few days, that the coming of this holy infant Jesus makes everything in my heart calm and bright.  His coming makes everything right.  Not easy, but right and well.  Calm and bright, because of the hope that He gives.

            Sleep in heavenly peace,

            Sleep in heavenly peace.

Peace that only Jesus can give, because He did come on that silent and holy night long ago. 

 
And there on busy Kellogg Drive with traffic on both sides and Aaron chattering away happily beside me, I was seriously filled with peace.  We still had the MRI ahead; Aaron still has his special issues; life may still seem unfair to some.  But there is peace, more than I have sensed in a long time. 

I see, more than I believe I ever have, what the coming of Jesus means to me personally and to this world.  Peace in the midst of fear…..in the midst of pain…..in the midst of frustration.  Peace that’s unexplainable except as I look at that little infant Jesus. 

“Come on, Aaron!” I said as we got out of the car in the hospital parking lot.  Let’s get this bump-in-the-road over with and go have some real fun!