Mad Dash.

Okay, our training workshop for Jaden's ABA program is done. Jaden is dead beat tired and I'm dragging. I don't really feel like blogging but I thought I'd let the fam that reads this boring blog know we are done.

Good Night! I'm going to bed (even though it is 6:30 PM).

Parachute. ....Check?

Okay, tomorrow is the day. The day I jump into the deep end of the pool without any knowledge of how to swim...and with major stomach cramps (from eating of course). Will I survive? Will I be able to afford it? Who knows.

So tomorrow morning we start training our hired (students) instructors and me to do ABA therapy.

As of right now we can afford about 1/2 year, hopefully, of therapy for our two little babies (The Cookie Stealer and Curly Sue). Therapy is short for at-home intensive 40 hour-a-week ABA program for Jaden and RDI program (soon to figure out more details of this therapy. It is still just letters to me) for Brinn. Whew! I'm tired already.

We can't afford to give our little ones a future they deserve and will get (Gosh Darn It!) and own the roof above our heads. So as most of you know I have to sell my Barbie Dream House. . . and my Dream house :) in order to afford it. But of course we are still waiting for my dream house to sell. It is funny that now my dream is to have my dream house to be someone else's dream house. Isn't life interesting. Well, at least you know I love my kids more than the roof over my head.

But despite the lack of funds we will be going ahead with the two programs. I'm going to do all I can to save and get money (cutting/coloring my own hair..Aaah!, eating dirt and beans, re gift old wedding presents, cutting off legs and sleeves of winter clothes to make summer clothes for the kids--I'm not kidding, sell my house :(, lose weight so I can fit into more clothes I already own, and other fun tid bits of cutting corners and stealing them to get more money). And then I hope God will bless us...maybe he'll bless someone else at the same time by helping them find their dream home.

But for every $10 Jaden gets 1 hour of therapy. So 50 cents is starting to look like a lot to me. I now take the trouble to bend over and look like a cheapskate in front of everyone in order to pick up a penny.

So until our parachute opens (selling our home) we are free falling into the abyss of bankruptcy. Some people end up hitting that chapter 11 (or Title 11 according to US code-just ask Jason) sidewalk, but until then we have faith that our chute will open.

Ignorance is Bliss. . . Or is it? And for whom?

Ignorant people are great. They don't intent to make themselves look bad...but they do...to me anyway. It is those people at a crowded store (let's say Costco or Target) who roll their eyes or leave the isles leaving the comment behind their backs as they leave, "some people let their kids get away with anything." Yes, sadly I hear these comments and see these gestures. And yes they do hurt because I'm human. I'm still working on becoming that confident superhero I'm aiming to be but until then I'm soft as a marshmallow.

People don't understand the tantrums are a part of my everyday life. I wish I knew what a normal child was like, but I can't spank my kid every time he hit, clawed, spit, or screamed bloody murder of the tenth degree because then he would have a very sore hinders and a very guilty feeling mother. So I do as any negligent mother who encourages bad behavior...I ignore it.

I have learned to tune it out and I forget that others haven't learned the same skill yet. So that is my purpose for getting out of the house and taking my children with me--to make you all tolerant and patient people. Because every Mom dealing with special needs children or normal tantruming children need some empathy out there.

Okay, I'm stepping down off my soapbox. Thanks for listening. The end.

But it gives me a good idea. I think I'll post what it is like for parents with autistic children. I like talking with other mothers because a lot of them feel the same way. Alone. They stay home because of the tantrums. They spend all of their money they can squeeze out of their paychecks to help their kids but it never seems like enough. It is a very desperate situation to be in. Not a lot of people understand autism. To be honest I didn't know what it really was until my nephew was diagnosed with it. So just to be informative I'll help others understand.

RDI? ...Reprogramming Detrimental (Parental) Interaction

So we had Scott, our hired consultant, come and meet with Jason and me to get the feeling of our family dynamics. So what it came down to was Jason works a lot and never really sees the kids except for weekends (not by his choice of course) and Brinn's always strapped to a chair in the car as we drive Jaden everywhere. But there is playtime for her to interact with us.

So we verbally gave Scott a report as to our relationship with Brinn and our roles and parental methods and personality. Jason claimed to be more on the Hippie relaxed side of the spectrum and I was a hippie when it came to some things and a Nazi when it came to others. Uh oh, I'm a Nazi?! I guess I'm the one who's going to need therapy now.

So Scott came back and then watched Jason play with Brinn for 45 minutes and then watched me play with Brinn for 45 minutes. Oh, and he recorded it too so that he could watch it again and again and point out how bad of parents we really are.

Okay, who can play with their child normally while you are being recorded and critiqued. It was like "Okay Brinn, catch the ball. No, catch it. Please, just catch it I'm being graded here. Please! help me out. BRINN CATCH THE DANG BALL!!!" I don't think I got a good grade.

I would love to get a clip of how the play times went because it always consisted of Brinn running out of the room with us chasing her dragging her back to the activity she was supposedly playing with us. It seemed more like a game of chase. Hum....it reminds me of every Sunday in the foyer of the church.

So we haven't heard back from Scott yet as to his critiques on our recorded "play times" but I often wonder if he is waiting for a response from the Child Protective Services. Oh man, if only Brinn could catch that ball.