P for Penis

Wow! What's with the title, Krista? Seriously, tone it down!

One of Brogan's favorite time wasters is going through the alphabet with us alternating letters and what starts with it,
A is for Albatross
B is for Baritone
C is for Cougar
...
You get the idea.
He's a smart kid. If you give him a word, he can almost always tell you what it starts with if not how to spell the whole word if it spells the way it sounds.
Lately I have taken to flat out telling him to
"Stop playing with your penis, Brogan."
It makes Jerry cringe, but seriously - what am I SUPPOSED to call it? A wee wee? A pee pee? It just seems rather ridiculous to soften it for him when I give it to Rhiannon factually.
Soooo ...
Today we're doing the ABC's
...
O is for Orangutan
P is for Penis
A small smile pulls at his lips and I see him darting looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
Bugger.
Q is for queen
Top that PUNK.

Riding Lessons

This week I started the kids on riding lessons after hearing time and time again at the Autism conference that hippo and aqua therapies are the most effective.
To be cliche, Rhiannon is in 7th heaven. She's actually quite natural with the horses and tacking and what not.
Brogan. Well ... hmmmm. What to say about him. He likes the idea of horses but he certainly doesn't want to be within a 10 foot range of them.Christian (riding instructor), "Brogan, do you want to help me put the hackamore on Star?"
Brogan, "Nooooo" shuffling even further back into the tack room
Christian, "Brogan, can you help me carry this saddle to Star?"
Brogan, all but under all of the saddles, "Noooooo"
Then ...
Christian takes the lead on Rhiannon's horse, I take the lead on Brogans horse.
We start walking around the arena with Christian giving Rhiannon soft instructions, encouragement and praise from time to time.
We stop for a minute to give Rhiannon the feeling of accomplishment when she's able to get her ride to stop on command ... and Brogan's leg is swung over the horse and half way to the ground.
"Done mom. Stop now."
*sigh* Settles the boy back on top of the horse, "No, Brogan. We are NOT done. Keep your bum seated in your saddle.
Few minutes of silence, "juh-go-potty, mom?"
Wiley little devil.
Soooo ... is it okay for me to just let him drop trou at a public arena? Probably a bad habit to encourage with this particular kid.
He is absolutely stiff, uncomfortable and is not having a good time doing this. He'd love it a whole lot more if I just let him shuffle around in the dirt parking lot or arena ... After two lessons I am already wondering if it's worth it. I had hoped once I got him on the horse he'd enjoy himself. Last summer he rode around with me for hours. But maybe that was just because I was on there with him.
The lessons are somewhat costly and I don't want to spend the money on him if he's hating it every minute.
I am considering looking into swimming lessons.
They'd be less expensive and I KNOW he loves water. Infact, last summer there was tears every day when he didn't get to go to swim lessons with Rhiannon.
I just hate letting him skip out of something. Makes me worry that he'll start thinking if he puts up enough of a fuss I won't make him do anything.
NEVER a good position to put yourself into with a smart kid.

We were sure we were being geniuses. Or at least Jerry thought he was a genius. I think he just wanted to bowl from home ... I bet you want to hear something that leads me to stating these things.
So here's the thing.
I ran all over the metroplex for way too long looking for a Wii because that is what Jerry had decided the kids would really like from "Santa". Forget the fact that they had no idea what it was and hadn't mentioned it once. After a lot of frantic searching and finally buying it out of the back seat of a shady characters car (alright, alright, he couldn't have been THAT shady, he owned a 'Vette) at 10:30pm on Christmas eve, the kids had a Wii for Christmas.
Rhiannon has got hours of enjoyment, frustration, elation, "nah nah nah nah" moments, crushing defeats ... Brogan on the other hand ... plays about 4 minutes of whatever game Rhiannon is playing and is done. Except boxing. The kid is a MEAN boxer. Got some sorta nutty right hook.
He however, love love loves this game A $5 game I got as a stocking stuffer ... for Rhiannon (oh, I mean Santa gave her. Whatever.) He asks me time after time after time "Play Don't Break the Ice mom, pleeeeeease?" So I patiently build it all back together again, he carefully places the skater in her "precarious" position and we start tap tap tapping away.
Moral of my story? Expensive electronic games don't phase my son. Infact, I am pretty sure he is as disinterested as you could get in it. Hands on, action games that he gets a reaction from - can't get enough of the silly stuff.

Another Opprotunity to Teach

Yesterday before we went to the library Brogan drew a picture of the library, then a picture of a little girl frowning. I asked him what each picture was and he explained,
"It's the library and a sad little girl."
"Why is the little girl sad?" I asked.
"Because I kicked her."
My nervous response "Do you like the little girl to be sad?"
"No."
Relieved, I then discussed with him how hitting/pushing/kicking/biting would make a little girl or boy he wanted to play with very sad and NOT want to play with him.
To further the point I went on to physically show him how little girls/boys like to be touched and what he could say to someone he wanted to play with instead of the abuse.
He then took his picture of the little girl, erased the frown and drew in a smile.
I asked him why she was smiling and he replied, "I'm a nice boy."
Wanting to implement the words of advice as soon as possible, we headed over to the library and into the kids area. Brogan immediately picks out the smallest child there, crouches down, strokes her arm gently and asks,
"Do you want to play, little girl?"

*heart swells, a little bit of foggy-eye*

I can't say the lesson will stick. Or if we'll have to talk about this a dozen more times before he really gets it. But for that one moment in time, it was absolutely precious.

Dry Erase Boards

What do you MEAN I shouldn't draw on my face?!?!

Don't be mistaken, I'm a genius (even as I spell that word wrong) - but sometimes it takes me a little bit of time and a little bit of money to catch on.
As displayed, Brogan loves to draw and write. It's possibly his favorite thing to do other than go on long car rides. To indulge this love of his we were going through around a ream of paper every other week to keep up with his demand. He wasn't being wasteful either - he'd use up the whole paper, both sides - then put the papers he didn't want me to display in the recycling bin.
When Kimberly was over for one of her In Home Training sessions a couple weeks ago she brought out one of her "personal size" dry erase boards and had him do some of his lesson on that.
*Bing!*
Lights went on in my head - of course! What a cost effective way to allow Brogan the freedom to draw to his hearts content, but save us some money, some mess and at least half a forest of trees.
Don't get me wrong, if Brogan is ever in the proximity of paper he's scrambling to find a pen/pencil and going at it like mad. But he's also very content with the dry erase boards.

Once again, without knowing it, Kimberly saves the day.

They're Missing

Brogan brought these pictures to show me this morning, thought I'd share the laugh:

SantaMissing SantaMissing Ms. Kimberly

Making Decisions

I think making decisions is a pretty important life skill, so I almost always give Brogan at least two options to choose from in as many situations as possible. The other day he decided to use that method (to a great extent) with me to get what he wanted.
"Mommy - go to the library or play Lincoln Logs?"(pointing to each picture as he asks) I really didn't want to do either, I wanted to finish the laundry... but knowing this was him employing a method I have been using with him I couldn't turn him down.
Lincoln Logs have been a great teaching tool with him. After helping me build which ever structure he has decided on, he will grab which ever animals and people he wants us to act out in that moment and then we play out scenarios, ie: The alligator wants to play with the dog and mom but he keeps biting them, so the mommy will say,
"Do you want to play with us, Flossy (he came up with the name, I have no idea where it came from)?" Asks the mom.
"Yes, I want to play!" replies the alligator.
"We want to play with you too, but we don't like it when you hurt us. That makes us sad. You can play with us if you don't hit, bite or push us, okay?"
Alligator pauses for longer than I had anticipated, then, "Okay."
Then play continues - with the alligator not attempting to eat the other characters again.

I'm a little crazy about this kid

You LOST Her?!?!

Whether he looking for a toy, his shoes, his favorite pillow, his "pink princess gloves" or a person if Brogan cannot almost immediately find it he comes to me, asks me where it is and if I reply "I don't know."
He'll respond, "You lost it?"
Which, irrationally, makes me rather annoyed. I know he's not actually accusing me of losing it, it's just how he phrases sentences and questions. "You" replaces I, we, me, us, she, he. So in reality he's more than likely telling me he can't find whatever it is because he lost it. But, because I am a hormonal mother I take it personally and throw back "I didn't lose anything but maybe you did." Then go help him find whatever it is he feels is lost.
The other evening I was in the laundry room attending to the sea of clothes when I heard this exchange:
Brogan, "Where's mommy?"
Jerry, "I'm not sure."
Brogan (accusingly), "You lost HER?!?!"
Jerry (slightly defensively) "I didn't lose her I just don't know where she is."
It amused me to hear someone else in that situation and to hear they react pretty much the same way I do. Is that wrong?

*Oy*

I would so love to blame ANYONE else for this. Kimberly, want to take one for the team? Pretend like you're the one to introduce these kinds of things to my son? No? Oh. Alright, so it was ME. In my defense, Rhiannon has become more and more interested in the differences between girls and boys. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, I told her the names of various body parts expressed my desire for her to not be QUITE as "blessed" in certain areas as myself and moved on. Hoping it was all done in a non-chalant "it's just the way things are" kind of way.
The boy, apparently, was paying close attention.
"Who is this?"
"It's Brogan!"
"And what are these...?"
"Breasts, Belly Button, Peni"
... Errrr ... Beg your pardon?
"Uhhh ... Actually Brogan boys don't have breasts. You have nipples." (Three to be exact....)
I showed the picture to Jerry and he asked, "What is that, a tail?" Errr ... not exactly.

Pictures

I love the creations Brogan makes at school, they always make me smile a little bit when I look them over. He brought home these pictures today ... (click on them to enlarge)

I'll Fix That for You

Yesterday Brogan brought in the repair manual for my truck. He's odd about where things belong, so I thought maybe he just figured it didn't belong in my truck, but in the book cupboard. However, this morning I walked into his room and found him sprawled out on his bed studying these pages: I wonder if he'll fix them for me when they go out ...

Rub A Dub Dub

Sympathy

Rhiannon's been milking a head ache this afternoon and Brogan has been "babying" her more than I have.
First he brought Rhiannon her favorite stuffed animal. Made sure she and her stuffed animal were tucked in "just right" on the couch. Then he sat next to her and stroked her head murmuring to her "k Rhiannon? 's okay."
To top it off, when he went to get himself a drink he got her one too.

Be Good!

We're in the midst of "weaning" Brogan off well, me. Not in THAT way! He's five for heaven sake.
He, however, has a painful attachment to me that borders on unhealthy. It may even cross the border. As his mother however, I'm trying to be positive.
Back to the weaning. After I put the kids to bed, Jerry has started being the one to respond to Brogan when he calls down the hall or requests anything. This practice in and of itself is totally fine with me. That is until he starts panicking because I am not the one to answer his summons.
What he wails out absolutely breaks my heart, "Be good, go see mommy?!?!" This question gets called out louder and louder till he's all but hyperventilating. I hate that he thinks that his dad being the one to deal with him says, "You've done something wrong, now you have to see your dad."

Recognizing Issues

In several Autism books they state that one of the issues Autistic people have is they do not understand facial expressions. Therefore they miss out on a great deal of conversation because so much is "spoken" silently.
I do not believe Brogan has this problem. If he's in the middle of doing something bad, I can shoot him a look and he knows immediately what I want him to do. No words needed. But that may also be because he KNOWS when he's doing something wrong ...
Another thing that was suggested is that because of certain brain function delays some Autistic people may not be able to hear voices at a certain level. Therefore they are not ignoring you when you talk loudly or yell, they are just unable to process what is being said. What they basically hear is, "Blah blah blah" or maybe a better description is thinking back on the Charlie Brown teacher and all the viewer could hear was "waa waa waa waa waa ..." that's how it distorts in thier brain. That's something to think about. Maybe will help me keep my calm better, thinking that if I starting talking loudly when I'm agitated it's not helping anyone because he can't understand me anyway ...

That's New

"Count with me, mommy! 1"
"2"
(and so and and so forth till 50)
"51"
"Excuse me, mom. No more counting."
Ohhh... ahhh ... sorry? I didn't know there was a number limit. My mistake.
Or, while he's playing with his "boy toys" ...
"No, sir! We do not do that. No, sir!"
Just to be clear I have never said "No, sir."
That comes from school where I think it may be easier to say "sir" than to think of a particular child's name in the midst of chaos.

But Mom!

I hear him call down the hall, "Go potty mom?"
I call back, "Yes you may, but you must go back to bed afterward."
I hear the bathroom door shut and lock. I wait two minutes. Then go investigate.
Using the "key" I open the door and find him ... scrubbing the floor with the toilet wand. *pukes a little in mouth*
Calmly, "Okay Brogan, back to bed."
"But mom! I'm CLEANING!"
"I appreciate that, but right now it's time to lay in bed quietly not clean."
"I'm clean-ing"
"No, it's bed time. Daddy can show you how to clean the bathrooms tomorrow." HAHAHA the last part is only a joke because I am not sure if Jerry knows how to clean a bathroom.
Seriously. When I come back to Texas after our 6 week "tour Canada" trip I am always surprised to find out he knows how to do laundry. I'm pretty sure he just does that because he hates clothes shopping more than laundry.

Take it to the table!

One of my most strict rules is that food/drink (unless in a sippy cup) MUST stay at the table. Even if I give the kids food/drink at the island, they know they are to walk it over to the table and eat it there. If they don't finish it, it stays on the table till they do. It's just the way I roll.
This evening as I was getting Rhiannon's lunch ready for tomorrow Brogan brought in a plate of his play food piled high and proudly announced, "For you mom!" I thanked him for the offering and started pretending to eat the food. "Stop mom!" he shouted. Thinking I wasn't meant to eat the food after all, I paused waiting for his next move. "Take it to the table. Sit on your bum." I apologized for being rude and went and sat down, then started in on the food. I peeked up at Brogan, who was still standing in the kitchen and he had this HUGE smile on his face. When I caught his eye he started laughing like the funniest thing in the world just happened.
What a punk.

Flower Mound Pumpkin Patch

Class field trip ... most taken AFTER the rest of his class had left.