Five Little Pumpkins

This is the coolest little video from Tyoma's preschool! Acting is in the family blood! My dad was in theater all while in college and well known for his astonishing memory. Dad can recall pages of Shakespeare, including most of the major soliloquies, so yay Aspergers! And, ya something else, too. It turns out that one of Dad's uncles was in Vaudeville. I'll have to check that out sometime. Anyway, T had so much fun doing his little performance, that he "helped" everybody else who flubbed their lines! Too funny!

Board Maker

arrived

Meeting With Dr Bollick

After two months of behavior problems with Tyoma it was time for a meeting with Dr. Bollick. She is an autism/asperger specialist who has published a number of insightful books. Her Asperger Syndrome and young children: Building skills for the real world, sits on my bookshelf and is well read. I like her and respect her. She set aside an hour and a half to talk with me and was tremendously helpful and supportive. Basically, I did a wonderful job despite the circumstances and she explained to me what Tyoma was going through. Essentially Tyoma is going through a period of intense cognitive growth as he learns to socialize and develop friends. She said that there will be intense stress on him until well into February, but that the most stress came from our recent family changes. She also said that she does not advise on an extended Russian family stay simply because it is too stressful on both Tyoma and me. This was sweet music! I won't get into the specific interventions, but she did say, give it time. I feel myself struggling to recover from the whole debacle. It is important to see the past two months from Fontess'a point of view. How excrutiating it must have been to stay here with hardly anyone to talk to. Her grandson can't seem to spend more than ten minutes with her, her daughter in law is stressed and not able to give the companionship she craves, and her own son is working extra hours and is has grown far beyond from his former role of child. I think the hardest part of the whole visit was the lack of internal resourses I had. I have just enough energy to cope with Tyoma and Papa and keep well myself. Although he meant well, constantly trying to convince me that Tyoma was normal, her conversations invariably became heated and stressfukl, draining the life out of me. At which point of his two month long screaming festival did she see "normal?" Sigh.

Field Trip

So, back to the field trip to Currier Farms....

I showed up at Tyoma's school my obligatory 15 minutes early and waited for other mom's to assemble. Fortunately, Roumanian Grandma was there to keep me company. I think that we an unspoken camaraderie since in a way we are outsiders. I am a total spazz, and she is a Roumanian National, far from home. i did mention to her that T has ASD, and she looked so sorry for me. I think she was surprised to hear how well he speaks and how fantastic his memeory was. We all loaded up on a big yellow school bus and sat at the back, the noisyest part.

I was surprised to find that we were going to another school to pick up other kids. As we drove to Mastricola, Tyoma shouted "All aboard!" just like on the Dinosaur Train. The school bus was like a huge lurching boat. it seemed to float rather than drive and it even had the slight sway of a ship on the ocean. Freaky.  If this troubled T, he did not say. He was thrilled about the bus ride and began singing his Dinosaur ABC's






Other folks were listening in on our patter, which was actually quite lighthearted. I noticed Miss Ann with her inscrutable smirk and wondered if Tyoma has been reciting his dinosaur ABCs all week. Nahh, most likely she was thinking "Like Mother, like child."

Our ride was smoggy, boyant and a bit frightening. Our driver would swing a turn on a dime and I felt certain that the whole bus would tip over or at least teeter on two wheels. i literally had to remind myself that she knows what she is doing, but when turned up the rutted and uneven road to the orchard, I felt the jostling shudder to an end as our balance seemed precarious.

We arrived safely and I seemed like the only one felt that the ride was as thrilling as tyoma who was jazzed beyond belief. next stop was a tractor drawn "hay ride." Rickety was not the word for the cart we rode on, over small for the children parents and teachers that crowded onto it acutely aware of the mothers and children hunched up next to me. tyoma felt the same discofort and i tried to block him off some personal space teacher from another school prompted me to move. i was about to speak up and say, no, we need space when i looked to miss jerry who was just as scrunched up with one of tyoma's autistic peers, who was enduring equally cramped conditions without complain. so, i moved. the side rail to my right came disconnceted an a techer held ity on as we took our ride

amazingly able to relax and enjoy the ride poking closeness was distracting. tyoma immediately and loudly complained about the heat, about his jacket and about wanting out. i was mortified. he was the only kid complaining and all i could say was we'll be there in a second honey. "I'm Hooo-ot. I want out! When will we get there? I want ooooo-ut!" I was clueless. I could not think of what to say, really, and the more i thought about not knowing what to say, the less focused i was and able to intereact with tyoma.

Finally we arrived and diembarked from the hayride. Tyoma ran off, which seemed like an excellent idea. I follwed him to a quiet spot while everyone else gathered around the farmer to hear his little spiel. we were the only ones off on our own. i steered t back to overhear the plans, find an apple, pick it and eat it. These trees are okay, these are not. So we found a mishapen fruit dangling from a stunted tree

Field Trip, Take 2

So, back to the field trip to Currier Farms.... I showed up at Tyoma's school my obligatory 15 minutes early and waited for other mom's to assemble. Fortunately, Roumanian Grandma was there to keep me company. I think that we an unspoken camaraderie since in a way we are outsiders. I am a total spazz, and she is a Roumanian National, far from home. i did mention to her that T has ASD, and she looked so sorry for me. I think she was surprised to hear how well he speaks and how fantastic his memeory was. We all loaded up on a big yellow school bus and sat at the back, the noisyest part. I was surprised to find that we were going to another school to pick up other kids. As we drove to Mastricola, Tyoma shouted "All aboard!" just like on the Dinosaur Train. The school bus was like a huge lurching boat. it seemed to float rather than drive and it even had the slight sway of a ship on the ocean. Freaky.  If this troubled T, he did not say. He was thrilled about the bus ride and began singing his Dinosaur ABC's Other folks were listening in on our patter, which was actually quite lighthearted. I noticed Miss Ann with her inscrutable smirk and wondered if Tyoma has been reciting his dinosaur ABCs all week. Nahh, most likely she was thinking "Like Mother, like child." Our ride was smoggy, boyant and a bit frightening. Our driver would swing a turn on a dime and I felt certain that the whole bus would tip over or at least teeter on two wheels. i literally had to remind myself that she knows what she is doing, but when turned up the rutted and uneven road to the orchard, I felt the jostling shudder to an end as our balance seemed precarious. We arrived safely and I seemed like the only one felt that the ride was as thrilling as tyoma who was jazzed beyond belief. next stop was a tractor drawn "hay ride." Rickety was not the word for the cart we rode on, over small for the children parents and teachers that crowded onto it acutely aware of the mothers and children hunched up next to me. tyoma felt the same discofort and i tried to block him off some personal space teacher from another school prompted me to move. i was about to speak up and say, no, we need space when i looked to miss jerry who was just as scrunched up with one of tyoma's autistic peers, who was enduring equally cramped conditions without complain. so, i moved. the side rail to my right came disconnceted an a techer held ity on as we took our ride amazingly able to relax and enjoy the ride poking closeness was distracting. tyoma immediately and loudly complained about the heat, about his jacket and about wanting out. i was mortified. he was the only kid complaining and all i could say was we'll be there in a second honey. "I'm Hooo-ot. I want out! When will we get there? I want ooooo-ut!" I was clueless. I could not think of what to say, really, and the more i thought about not knowing what to say, the less focused i was and able to intereact with tyoma. Finally we arrived and diembarked from the hayride. Tyoma ran off, which seemed like an excellent idea. I follwed him to a quiet spot while everyone else gathered around the farmer to hear his little spiel. we were the only ones off on our own. i steered t back to overhear the plans, find an apple, pick it and eat it. These trees are okay, these are not. So we found a mishapen fruit dangling from a stunted tree

Field Trip, Part 1

Yesterday, I accompanied Tyoma on his field trip to Currier Orchards. It was a stressful event for both of us, really. Sometimes I wonder if I am not entirely right in the head. I was freaked out by the whole thing, despite the smiles and joking. I felt judged by the other mothers, many of whom were with their typical kids. I felt judged by the good teachers working with T, as if I was not able to manage his behavior as well. And, I judged myself, too. fortunately, there were some moments when I was able to shove all that out of my mind and enjoy the trip. I tell you,  it was hard work.

Why am I suddenly complaining about all of these feelings? Honestly, I've always had them, but I have been so embarrassed and ashamed to share them. writing this confessional is liberating. by learning about tyoma's atypical neurological wiring i am encountering page after page of material that applies to me as well. it is truly shocking to realize that there are other people out there who feel like i do i feel compelled to write this down in case some other person finds themselves as lost anxious and depressed as i have. i don't even know you but i also don't know the folks whose blogs i read. maybe this lends my like some sort of purpose outside of my usual mommy/housewife role. i find value in this role, but sometimes i feel sop tired and bored and completely without accomplishment i had such dreams as a young woman and with utter consistency imanaged to bail on all of them well, not all. here i am in a lovely home with a superlative husband and a probably profoundly gifted child. my health is good but i do need some extra something  i am trying to find this in my art, painting, watercolor etc, but since the first sweet week on fontessa being here, all i can think to do is organize my art supplies or rip pages out of books for collage. it seems to me that i excell in collecting and organizing but that i am paralyzed by the actual creating i think that is what makes art hard while we have a guest in the house.

i know that fontessa is bored and that i am overwhelmed and this situation is not good for us. i don't have any energy left for her i can't even think in Russian let alone have a conversation all i wanted to do was to work on my project quietly in  my little room, but she tracked me down, what are you doing, oh how nice, blah, blah blah, how do i explain that she's not welcome? no one is welcome. i clench my fists  and jaws walking in to may art room. i feel anxious picking up the paints and trying something and I almost begin and i have a visitor, no an intruder. i'm angry at both of us. i know that my reaction is not right, it must be incomprehensible. please no people, no comments don't even look until i am ready to share. that's what is is about-- the control creating something is very private to me and i need my time to be with it and sharing is a choice. this is me trying to build an expression of myself withing a fortress of anxiety apprehension and self doubt and i want to need to be alone with it. so i really resent her presence. it seems as if i can go no where without her following me. she is seeking me out because she needs and thrives on contact. i am avoiding her because she is draining the tiny bit of resources i have to cope with tyoma and the house. i have taken to avoiding her in the extreme, pleading sickness and headaches and holing up in my room without paints looking at books and aching to create. i disgust myself. i don't have the strength to confront her i don't think she'll understand i fear that I'll hurt her feelings she's my husband's mother that's golden. i loath myself for pretending sickness to escape it feels false and i am certain that she must know this but if she knows i need my space why can't she give it?  I encounter  her in the hallway and we waltz. she edges closes and closer. there must be a cultural difference because she always looms inches from my face and it completely unnerves me. I've taken to walking around with a white melamine tray which i angle between us when we talk she will step right up to it and look straight in my fidgety eyes and continue talking at top speed. i can't understand her does she realize this? doesn't she know how fast she is talking? I'm going to crack one day and tell her i am too tired and cant understand her what I'm afraid of is that i will say this in such hysterical way that she will be mortally offended.

Field Trip

Yesterday I accompanied Tyoma on his fieldtrip to Currier Orchards.

It was a stressfull event for both of us, really. Sometimes I wonder if I am not entirely right in the head. I was freaked out by the whole thing, despite the smiles and joking. I felt judged by the other mothers, many of whom were with their typical kids. I felt judged by the good teachers working with T, as if I was not able to mangge his behavior as well. And, I judged myself, too.

fortunately, there were some moments when I was able to shove all that out of my mind and enjoy the trip. I tell you,  it was hard work. Why am I suddenly complaining about all of these feelings? Honsetly, I've always had them, but I have been so embarassed and ashamed to share them. writing this confessional is liberating. by learning about tyoma's atypical neurological wiring i am encountering page after page of material that applies to me as well. it is truly shocking to realize that there are other people out there who feel like i do i feel compelled to write this down incase some other person finds themselves as lost anxious and depressed as i have. i don't even know you but i also don't know the folks whose blogs i read. maybe this lends my like some sort of purpose outside of my usual mommy/housewife role. i find value in this role, but sometimes i feel sop tired and bored and completely without accomplishment i had such dreams as a young woman and with utter consistancy imanaged to bail on all of them well, bnot all. here i am in a lovely home with a superlative husband and a probably profoundly gifted child. my health is good but i do need some extra something  i am trying to find this in my art, painting, watercolor etc, but since the first sweet week on fontessa being here, all i can think to do is organize my art supplies or rip pages out of books for collage. it seems to me that i excell in collecting and organizing but that i am paralyzed by the actual creating i think that is what makes art hard while we have a guest in the house. i know that fontessa is bored and that i am overwhelmed and this situation is not good for us. i don't have any energy left for her i can't even think in russian let alone have a conversation all i wanted to do was to work on my project quietly in  my little room, but she tracked me down, what are you doing, oh how nice, blah, blah blah, how do i explain that she's not welcome? no one is welcome. i clench my fists  and jaws walking in to may art room. i feel anxious picking up the paints and trying something and I almost beging and i have a visitor, no an intruder. i'm angry at both of us. i know that my reaction is not right, it must be incomprehinsible. please no people, no comments don't even look until i am ready to share. that's what is is about-- the control creating something is very private to me and i need my time to be with it and sharing is a choice. this is me trying to build an expression of myself withing a forteress of anxiety apprehansion and self doubt and i want to need to be alone with it. so i really resent her presence. it seems as if i can go no wherer without her following me. she is seeking me out because she needs and thrives on contact. i am avoiding her because she is draining the tiny bit of resouses i have to cope with tyoma and the house. i have taken to avoiding her in the extreme, pleading sickness and headaches and holoing up in my room without paints looking at books and aching to create. i disgust myself. i don't have the strength to confront her i don't think she'll understand i fear that i'll hurt her feelings she's my husband's mother that's golden. i loath myself for pretending sickness to escape it feels fals and i am certain that she must know this but if she knows i need my space why can't she give it?  I encounter  her in the halway and we waltz. she edges closes and closer. there must be a cultural difference because she always looms inches from my face and it completely unnerves me. i've taken to walking around with a white melamine tray which i angle between us when we talk she will step right up to it and look straight in my fidgity eyes and continue talking at top speed. i can't understand her does she realize this? doesn't she know how fast she is talking? i'm going to crack one day and tell her i am too tired and cant understand her what i'm afraid of is that i will say this in sucha hysterical way that she will be mortally offended.

Home Again

Yay!

My sweet moosh is back from New Mexico! He was happy to see Grandma and Grandpa, who sent bushels of dried fruit and goodies for Tyoma and the family. It was so nice to hear how my folks were doing and how dear sweet Misty was. E said that Misty loved him and kissed him. I would love to go to NM and see them myself. I love having Mom here, but I miss Dad so much. One way or another, we will manageg to do something special this spring.

E took some cool elevator pictures for Tyoma, if I find them, I'll post them!!!

Tennisfiend Is Home!!!

Yay! My sweet moosh is back from New Mexico!  He was happy to see Grandma and Grandpa, who sent bushels of dried fruit and goodies for Tyoma and the family. It was so nice to hear how my folks were doing and how dear sweet Misty was.

TF said that she loved him and kissed him. I would love to go to NM and see them myself. I love having Mom here, but I miss Dad so much. One way or another, we will manageg to do something special this spring. E took some cool elevator pictures for Tyoma, if I find them, I'll post them!!!

On another note, thank God he's home. Tanya now has someone to talk to. Keeping her entertained (in Russian) was no small task especially since I have Tyoma to deal with and he has been having such a hard time. Halleluia!

Some Results

Jerri suggested that I try to boost Tyoma's structure at home with schedules. I have been having some problems with that, I think that I will turn to using his old picture schedules, since right now he maybe too stressed to process written schedules as well. We shall see.

T's speech therapist wrote me a note telling me how well he was progressing, especially with regards to conversations, eye contact and pronouns. I remember this time last year when I/you were still pretty mixed up. I think it was only in the spring, around the time of mom's last visit that the I/you substantially diminished.