Sunday, October 15, 2017


I'm feeling like I hopped on board the Crazy Train. Let me tell you why.

We, the special needs parenting community are not saints. We are not special people picked by the Lord to have special children.  We are no better than any other mom or dad that is doing their thing.  Even the phrase "I don't know how you do it." doesn't really apply to us because on most days we're not sure how we are doing it either.  You just do it because it's your kid and of course you would just do what needs to get done.  We aren't perfect.  We screw it up. A lot. We disappoint our kids and ourselves.  We try again.

I guess what I am saying is we really are just like those neurotypical parents.  There is really no difference between us at all. What is different are the standards to which we seem to be held.  Ones that are often created by those who do not have a special needs child and THAT is when we have problems.

This different standard of parenting needs to end because personally, it's making me bat crap crazy and I'm really tired of feeling like I'm always the crazy one.  To paraphrase the great Ozzy Osbourne's song "Crazy Train", "Crazy, I just cannot bear. I'm living with something that just isn't fair."  Because  autism is many times often unfair with what it deals a person who has it and the loved ones around them.  There are many gifts but I'd be lying if I said "Oh golly gee. It's perfect. No complaints!!! All good in the Autism hood, yo!"

I'm tired of all of us getting shoved into this sainted parent box because it makes no sense.  While some will be more than willing to polish our halo, often those same folks can be the ones heaping on judgment for stuff that they simply cannot begin to understand.  You can't tell me I am both a amazing special needs parent who was just destined to be the Kiddo's mom while at the same time asking me "Why isn't he on a special diet?  You should really try the diet I read about once in a an old People magazine while I was at the doctor's office. You know about the diet, right?" and be sighing and rolling your eyes at me because I won't put my Kiddo on a diet that didn't work for us in the first place.

Do folks realize the crazy mixed messages we get when the same folks that stopped inviting our kids to play dates and birthday parties are the same ones telling us "Oh my god! Have you watched Atypical?!?! Your blog was in it!"  (Yes, I did. Yes, I knew about it. Yes, I have a screen shot of it as my laptop screen saver.)  It's just like my family is some sort of holiday decoration you all only take out when you want to celebrate all things Quirkymas and then promptly put away when you are done.

I guess I'm just feeling extra sort of, mmmmm, I don't know, a walking autism info kiosk lately. I know part of that is my own doing. Hell, look what I blog and write about for a living. I get it.  I made part of that box I am in.  I guess it's just lately I am just so tired of the standard we seem to be held.  Especially when we weren't the ones that set it.

Well, this blog is all over the place. I guess I'll go back to listening to some music with my ear buds in while Kiddo watches "The Polar Express" again.   And yes, he does watch it every night and yes, it would be a BIG deal if he didn't and no, it's not hurting anyone if he does.  So save it if you are about to comment on our bedtime standard around here. ;-)

Living with the Kiddo is like living with Ozzy Osbourne. They're both loud.  They're both musical. They both ROCK! 

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Toilet Talk

There's no fluffy smooth intro here.  Let's just get down to it. My Kiddo has to pee and sometimes when I am out and about with him, I have to pee too.

Now when he was little, no one batted an eye lash at me bringing him into the ladies room with me.  In fact in most cases he was one of many little boys who were in there with their moms.  I didn't and still don't care when I am in ladies room when I see a little boy in there. I'm thinking of my bladder, not some other kid's wiener.

The thing that has happened is Kiddo has started to grow up. I know!  How rude of him to get taller, bigger, and more adult looking by the minute.  I don't remember telling him he could do that at all. I still want him to be the little tot in a one piece romper stomping around like a Godzilla in those chunky white toddler shoes who would run away yelling like some pint size Braveheart going off into battle.  Usually after someone would turn on one of those loud as feck hand dryers of doom.

Alas, it is not to be.  Instead I have a 5'4 lanky teenager with hair legs and a rapidly deepening man voice following behind me in many a bathroom because why?

AIN'T NO WAY I AM SENDING HIM TO MOST BATHROOMS ALONE! In fact, I have started to map out my errands based on places I know that have single stall restrooms because I can send him into those easily and I know he'll be fine.  Plus, for me, it's not just sending him into a men's room by himself that I have to worry about. I have to go too. So you want me to run into one restroom while he's in another and hope like Hell I can get in and out fast enough so he's not alone by himself because he finished first because despite it being 2017, women's restrooms will always have the longer ass wait! (Seriously ladies. Why is that?  What are we doing in there that's taking so long?  Oh! I know! It's because we're having to bring in our kids with us.)

In certain public locations, he's coming in with me and if you are the general public, you have two choices.  You can either deal with it OR you can help us out by telling businesses to make more "family/gender neutral bathrooms".  Because your bladder is not more important than my Kiddo's. Or mine.  So until we have some more family bathrooms, he coming in with me.  My Kiddo has autism, is intellectual disabled and has limited communication.  There is a reason why I have to be a Smother Mother. It's to keep him safe. If you are concerned he may see you NOT wash your hands, that's on you.

And you know what? I kind of hate that I have to do that too. He's 13.  He doesn't want to go in with me. I know it and yes, I can see women in there doing double takes when he's walking in with me.  Trust me, I will make sure he puts the seat back down though.  I'm trying to raise that boy right.

After all these years, I don't give a flying crap anymore if you give me and my Kiddo a look in the bathroom. I will be the first one to tell you "Take a picture. It'll last longer."  Seriously though, what would you rather me do?  Never leave the house? Never go to pee? Sorry, you're not worth a UTI.

More of these, less of judgement. 

Thursday, September 7, 2017

I hope it's a better year.

My social media newsfeed is a slew of "Back to school" shots.  Kids posing in their brand new outfits and lunch boxes that they will soon lose. Some smiling.  Some sulking.  It's cute. It's adorable. It's nice to see a bunch of good looking kids ready to take on a brand new year.

And I can tell you just by looking at the photo if they are autistic or not.  It's not by how they part their hair or how they hold a book bag.  It's how their parents caption their picture.

"I hope it's a better year."

Seriously, there must have been ten in a row that said this.  Each time I saw one, I'd checked.  Yep, a fellow #TeamQuirky member.  Over and over again.  Parents of the typical kids would just caption it as the first day of whatever grade and move on. Some of them even go super fancy and have the kids hold up a sign they made which I cannot do as I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler. Parents of autistic/special needs, just try to get their kids to sort of look at the camera and take whatever shot that they can get. I can bet you dollars to donuts that there was a photo shoot and there were about 20 other shots on their smartphone that they scrolled through before deciding on that one as "good enough". They have other things to worry about, which is pretty much everything else related to school.

And good Lord, do I get this. I get this so hard. Last year at this time things were so bad in this house and at his former school.  Just getting him out the door on the bus was a freaking production that left me drained by the time he went off to school.  Plus, I couldn't even catch my breath because I was waiting for the dreaded phone call to come.  Which it did, nearly every single day.  The personal best being from the principal on the second day of school telling me how "out of control" he was and I needed to come get him.  She treated us like we had somehow pulled a fast one and scammed him into her school.  No one there seemed to understand him or our shock at how bad things were.  They didn't know him or us.  They thought that this was the status quo. This went on for months till we found him a new school.

I can't even believe that an entire year has gone by since then.  He is happy. He is thriving. He is still loud as feck and a ten gallons of hyper in a five gallon bucket. He is The Kiddo. The one we know and love and is actually eager to go back to school.

Despite knowing he is in a much better educational placement, I still can't help but feel anxious.  I'm trying to hide it from Kiddo. I'm putting on a show of "Yay! School!!" but inside I am still freaking out. He went happily on the bus and according to the teacher it was a great first day.  I'm just hoping it stays that way.

I'm just hoping it's a better year too.

Sorry, I have no picture of me dancing in the street singing "Brand New Day" from The Wiz. 

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Do you know how hard we worked for that "Hi!"?

In an effort to help keep the Kiddo busy and for me to stay a bit sane, we went away for a couple of days to a resort that has an indoor water park.  We've been to it before and the Kiddo absolutely loves it.  We like it because it's just big enough to keep him busy but small enough to keep him contained or be "on" him if trouble or an autism misunderstanding comes up.  He was pretty excited to go. I was excited to not have to cook for a few days. It was a win/win all around.

One of the times Kiddo and I hit it alone so my husband could go get his presidential history buff on and go spends a thousand hours touring James Buchanan's house. Despite enjoying all the numbers that go with the presidents (Number 15!), that is pretty much where the Kiddo's interests ends.  Since that home was without pool slides, that was not an activity for him.  I was happy to go with the Kiddo to the park because I knew he would be happy. I was happy my husband was getting his historical jollies on without having to rush or tend to autism at the same time.  I also knew he would tag me out later and take him out and I'd put my feet up and read. It's how we do vacations.  A non stop game of "Tag, you're the responsible adult!".

It wasn't too busy when we hit the park. I set up camp with our towels and stuff and tried not to think too much about the soup of kid pee and germs I was most likely wading in. This seemed to be the visit where Kiddo really didn't need me to run autism interference.  At all.  He patiently waited his turn at the slides.  He didn't cut in front of any other kids.  He followed the rules of no running and making sure he got out of the way at the end of the slides as soon as he went down them so the next kid could go.  After a good fifteen minutes I realized I could get out of the petri dish umm I mean, pool. I could go sit down! (In a seat with the best vantage point to see the whole area and be by the one escape route...ummm... I mean, exit.)

I could be like one of those parents of those neurotypical kids.  GASP!  I know.  So bizarre.

But because I am still a "Smother Mother", I made it a point to lap around the place now and then to keep tabs on him and make sure everything was okay.  This is is when I noticed that the Kiddo was in fact trying to be social.  In his usual way, he was pretty much ignoring/tolerating the kids.  He's never going to be the one to engage first. That's just him.  However, he does gravitate towards adults. I think he kind of understands that adults are "in charge" and will gladly lead him along to where he needs to go.  Be it in a conversation or when it's okay to be the next one to go down the really big slide.  As I expected, I saw him trying to engage with the only other adults in the River of Ringworm. The lifeguards.

"Hi Lifeguard!"

He might not know your name but he knew who you were.  He knew you were in charge and keeping all the kids safe. (Well safe from possible drowning. There was nothing they could do to save someone from the "Lake MRSA" they were swimming in.)  So every time my Kiddo passed by one he would stop and say hello.

We were in there for about two hours that time.  Guess how many said "Hi" or "Hey" or "Do you know anywhere else that is hiring because I can't soak in this giant pile of exploded swim diapers another day?"

None. Of. Them. Not that I saw. Not a single one.

Now, I get they are at work. I get they can't be having full conversations every single time my son swims by them.  They have to keep their eyes on the water.  Not a single one of them could smile and say "Hi" back?  Like take the 5 seconds and greet a kid. Is it that hard to do? Do they need a social story? I have plenty.  Seriously, I travel with them.  I have an app on my phone.  You never know when you are going to need one.

But here was my Kiddo happy to engage with another person, multiple times, and he was being ignored. Now because he is the original gansta of giving zero fecks, he would say it again and again.   He wasn't going to let it hold him back or get him down.  I can't help but wonder what he is thinking about it though.  We have worked so hard for years to get that kind of polite spontaneous engagement out of him and here's his moment and Pfffft. Nothing.  No response. No acknowledgement. Was he wondering to himself "Well, what's the point of all that work they keep making me do in speech and in school about how to be polite and then no one does it?"

Since I have had the Kiddo I have noticed that adults often ignore other kids that aren't their own.  I mean, I get it. If I hear a kid screaming somewhere I do the quick check of "Is that mine? No?" and breath a sigh of relief that I don't have to be "on" in that moment.

 Now that I have a Kiddo who has worked so freaking hard to get where he is with his speech and communication, any kid that starts talking to me, I answer them. It takes little effort on my part. We as adults are always on kids to be respectful to adults and yet when they are friendly and say "Hi Lifeguard!", they get ignored. It's kind of hypocritical, don't ya think?  So that's how I pay it forward into the universe and say Hello back.

Because it's the freaking polite thing to do and shit.  Be nice and say "Hi" to my Kiddo.  We worked hard for that god damn "Hi". Spot him a head nod or a ""Sup?" back.  It won't hurt you.

I might though. ;-)

Kiddo climbing the steps to the slide so he can jump in to get a fresh coat of kid cooties all over him. 

Thursday, August 10, 2017

August Angst Part Two. Electric Boogaloo

*clock strikes midnight ushering in August first*

August. I freaking hate this month.  If you follow me on Facebook, you know already that Kiddo hates Wednesdays so much we have dubbed them "WTF Wednesday" because we have just grown to accept that the day is going to suck donkey balls.  It's just how it is.

How he feels about hump day is how I feel about August and Autism. It is not a good combo. Not a good look for the House of Fry.  Not. At. All.

I do not know what it is about this stinking month but the Kiddo, like clockwork, falls apart every single year.  Maybe it's the ending of ESY and the long stretch of no structure ahead.  Well, no structure from school.  Trust me. Mama Fry runs a tight ship around here. Correction, Kiddo runs a tight ship around here.  Maybe it's being away from his classmates and being an only kid makes him feel lonely. Maybe it's the planets being out of sync with the Sun and the position of the Moon.  All I know is, it's it's consistent with being Hell wrapped in chaos topped with a mayhem bow.

But we power through because despite me trying to convince my doctor that I need to be placed into a medically induced coma for the month, I have no choice.  I'm not really taking it one day at a time but more like one moment at a time.  It's all I can do.

What I do have in my corner is a little help from the state's Perform Care system.  We finally have some people coming to the house to work with the Kiddo and it's been going pretty well.  We have successfully gone through the stages the Kiddo getting to know them. Phase 1, act adorable. Phase 2, act mischievously. Phase 3, question everything. Phase 4, raise HELL. Phase 5, Accept the fact these folks are coming to the house.  The honeymoon period was definitely over when he first melted down hard in front of them.  He usually only saves that for folks he loves, so honestly, they ought to take it as a compliment when he tried to lunge at them.

Since it's going well, we're adding to it.  Behaviors are our priority right now, followed by being an independent person a close second.  It's also made me aware that while I need to add more of that to his routine, we need to end some of the parts of his old one.

Like finally breaking up with the magical speech therapist who graduated from Hogwarts.  You may be thinking "Isn't this the one that gets him to eat all sorts of different foods? Are you crazy?? Wait, she'll have an opening. Does she take my insurance?"

But it's absolutely time.  Speech wise, it's as good as it's going to get with him.  I knew there would be a time where we would have to make choices like this.  When to stop things even though those things weren't completely fixed or done or I don't know what to call it.  I've had to break up with therapists before.  (Read all about it here.) I don't know how this is going to go over with the Kiddo as he absolutely adores her and I have a mad respect for that woman. I'm sitting here thinking "Can I bring a six pack to the final session? Cause she's really earned it."

There's a small part of me that's like "Girl, why on earth are you making a big change like this in August?" but I also know that I accommodate my Kiddo A LOT. Delaying things a month or two isn't going to give him what he needs.  If things are going to be topsy turvy,  might as make the changes that need to happen anyway.

Oh August, you make me your bitch every year. I know I've said it before.  Autism is easy. It's the anxiety that comes with it that needs to go kick rocks in flip flops.

Wish us luck and a quick month!

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Where should I move to get the best autism services?

If I had a dollar for every time this question was emailed or tweeted at me, I'd have my Kidd's co pays for speech therapy paid for life.  Heck, probably enough dollars to hire the speech therapist to hang out at my house for the weekend.  (Which I bet she would game for because she knows I have a pool and a bar in my basement.)

It sounds like such a simple question and one that shouldn't be so complicated to answer but like most things with autism, it is!  It should be black and white but it is not. Which is ironic seeing as autism thinking really doesn't do well with shades of gray.

The thing is, there's no magical list one can produce to answer this question.  Now I am sure there is someone right now reading this thinking "No, there totally is this article I found online about what states and school districts are best and which ones are the worst. Let me go link drop it and not read the rest of this piece even though Mama Fry took the time to write.  I have other things to do, like answering Buzzfeed quizzes to find out what shape of pasta I am.".  Link droppers, hear me out.  That's the first part of this.  That article you think sums it all up? There are so many of these articles written at different times and from different sources. It's almost overwhelming the sheer volume of them.

I totally get though why so many people ask this question.  There are multiple reasons why.  Some move because of work and don't want their kid's getting screwed over.  Some do it because they have HAD it with their current school district and figure it has to be better somewhere else.  Here are just a few things to think about before accepting some article you found online as the gospel according to autism school districts.

1) The different types of disabilities.  We all know the cliche. You met one kid with autism means you have met only one kid with autism.  Meaning, my Kiddo is different than your kiddo.  My child's needs can be and often are completely different than any other child's.  Kiddo is no longer in my town's middle school but there are other students there who have disabilities.  That school was unable to meet his needs but clearly they are meeting other students' needs.  At least, I hope they are but I'm thinking their parents would yank them out if they weren't, ya know?  It boils down to my Kiddo is very different than theirs. If that school is working for them, good.  So while I might share our story of how it rolled for us (like a bus over our heads), it's just that. Our experience. It's not the only experience one can have there. Which brings me to my next point...

2) A school district and experience can change drastically in the years your child attends.  As I mentioned above or if you have been following our story for a while now, the transition to middle school was, for lack of better words, a clusterfuck.  Now had you asked me about our school district  prior to that point like when he was in the town's early intervention preschool or his kick ass elementary, I would have been helping you pack to move to my town.  Those two schools were fantastic with the Kiddo and his needs.  Again though, it's just our experience.  There were other families I know that weren't getting what they needed or wanted for their kids.  No place is perfect.  If you asked me now what I thought of my town's middle school and high school program for special needs students, I got a middle finger salute answer for that.  I had no idea it would get that bad once he hit that age.  It was not something we wanted to have happen but at least we were able to find a private placement for him that gives him the supports he needs.  (And more importantly, the school district pays for it.)   Which leads into my next point...

3) Money. It's all well and good if someone declares "So and So district is the best district your kid can go to for school."  Can you afford to live there though?  Will you be able to change jobs and/or careers that easily?  We couldn't.  We're a one income family and my husband is a small business owner with partners. He is also only licensed to do his job in New Jersey.  To up and move to another state wouldn't be a breeze.  Not by a long shot.  I know we aren't the only ones in that kind of situation.  Sure moving to another state might help some problems but it could open up a whole other can of worms Like...

4) Family and friends that support.  We have my family in the local area and my husband's family a little farther away but still close enough that if we needed help, they could pitch in.  My mom has watched Kiddo vacuum her house many a time while I run around doing errands and my brother has had the Kiddo sleep over from time to time so Daddy Fry and I can have a date night here and there.  A pal of mine helped me out last summer watching the Kiddo for an hour because I had an autism speaking gig and my husband had a late night at work.  (Which Kiddo loved cause she cooked SO. MANY. FRIES.) My point is, we have some help when we need it.  I don't know about you but having that around is important.  Support like that can be hard to find and you can't always count on the next school district to solve all your problems because...

5) Good teachers in bad schools vs. Bad teachers in good schools. This applies to just about any student in a school, autistic or not.  There are fabulous teachers out there who empty their wallets and their hearts into a classroom and more often than not they are not in the fancy pants school district.  This is not to say that the teachers in the "better" ones are slackers though and I'm sure there are many a teacher in a "bad" one that's just given up or don't care.  Sometimes it's just the luck of the draw who is teaching your kid. I think it's pretty well established that a majority of the people going into education aren't there for the money. (Mainly because there isn't any.)

Now I know me bringing these things up probably doesn't solve the problem or answer the question on where to go but I bring them up because I think folks often forget them.  My best advice (not that you asked but hey, you're hear reading this anyway) is GOOGLE. Google the area and "autism" and see what comes up.  Hop on Facebook, type that area and autism into the search box and see what groups and pages pops up.  If you have no plans to move and you're staying put, answer questions about your area that people might post.  Don't answer ones were you don't know an area but your cousin's boyfriend's kid lives there and they said... You know what I mean.  Just stick to your turf.  If someone new moves into your hood and they are on #TeamQuirky, get to know them.  Be that "HOLY CRAP. HELP!" support person because you have been there.

Remember, we're #TeamQuirky, we take care of our own. We're kind of like the mafia but without guns and we're sleepy.

Kiddo knows we're not moving out of New Jersey ever.  I'm not leaving a land where I don't have to pump gas in my car.  43 years old. Never done it once. :-) 

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Sometimes I blame autism.

If you have been following us on social media, you know that we just had a whirlwind of pain, agony, dentistry and autism.  It's not a good combo. Kiddo managed to crack his two top front teeth while at school. How? I blame autism. Let me explain.

Upon earning his final token to get a reward he had been working for, one with high value, he got what I like to call "flappy happy". He jumped out of his seat and started bouncing up and down like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. This is kind of a common thing to see with folks with autism.  When they feel an emotion, they feel it right now to their toes.  Sometimes it's a sign to me that the Kiddo is starting to get a bit overstimulated by a situation but more often than not it's just him expressing how he feels and it's usually when he feels AWESOME!!!

However, what was not awesome is what happened next.  In his flaps and jumps he tripped over an area rug in the room and his face slammed into a locker in the classroom.  BOOM! Top teeth cracked. As horrible as that was, Kiddo was less concerned about his physical well being and more concerned about missing the upcoming "water day" event that was happening at school that day.  Because that's just how his autistic mind works.  He was patched up by the school nurse and given the clearance to go.  They called me at home to tell me what happened and honest to God I wanted to cry. Mostly because he was hurt but I will be selfish but real here. Dental work and the Kiddo?  It's a fecking hot mess.  Just awful. Absolutely awful.

You see, he's done this move once before. While laying on his back in bed he dropped the iPad and it's very heavy case on his face and chipped one of his front teeth.  So this was not our first rodeo with major dental stuff.  In fact, it only happened about a year and some change ago.  So not only did he just knock out ALL the dental work from last time, he cracked another one too to boot!  Skillz!  My Kiddo has 'em!

And while I was on the phone arranging for an emergency appointment to get him seen by his dentist group I was really feeling sorry for myself.  In order to fix this the last time, we had to do sedated dentistry and that took, no lie, FOUR MONTHS to set up.  It is a giant pain in the ass.  One look at my Kiddo  and his new and improved hockey goalie smile he was sporting made me want to just crawl under a rock and hide.   (If you want to read about that adventure, you can check it out here.  "Talk is Cheap"

I kind of figured that was what would have to happen again but there was no way on earth this Kiddo of mine could live like this for a couple of months. It was bad.  Like really bad.  I got the confirmation of this when the dentist called his partner in to consult on what to do with him.  When they have to call for backup, you know it ain't good.  Kiddo managed to crack them both well enough that they HAD to do something for him today. No complaints from me but how the HELL were they going to do in the office?  They're both looking at me like "Well Mom, you know him best.  Think he'd let us get in there if we used some Nitrous Oxide aka Laughing Gas?"

Ummmm, your guess is as good as mine? I really had no idea.  That was never offered to us as an option before.  It was "Your kid cannot do a basic cleaning without four adults holding him down. Sedation.  ALL OF IT." At this point though he is in a crap ton of pain that he's actually admitting to,(He's got a crazy high tolerance for pain. He once dropped a bowling ball on his foot and kept bowling.) his jagged teeth are slicing up his lips and tongue repeatedly, and I'll admit it, it was kind of shocking/icky to look at this busted looking smile.  So we had to at least try.

This is when this dental group really rocked.  Though they typically close early on Fridays in the summer, they stayed open late for the Kiddo. This is the power of the Kiddo. He can frequently charm folks into doing stuff like this. Or maybe they just felt really bad for us. I'm not sure but I'm just glad they did. I just had to keep him entertained for the next three hours, we could come back when they were closed and they would attempt it. We had nothing to lose.  So I juggled because what else could I do at this point?   It gave me time to try and explain what was about to happen to him.  Oh and I got the EXTRA fun of not letting him eat for the next couple hours because of the work they were about to do.

Kiddo was pretty anxious before they started but there was something about the situation where he actually seemed to understand that this was a thing that they had to do. He got in the chair and allowed the dentist to put the Laughing Gas mask on him and HOLY COW, now I know what my Kiddo would look like if he was stoned.  If there was any silver lining in this, it was the entertainment of this Kiddo on Laughing Gas.  He could not stop giggling and singing the whole entire time. Including the time she had to take the big needle of Novocaine which made me feel woozy just looking at her do it.  I thought this would be the moment he would lose his collective shit.  Nope, just went along with it. I WAS IN SHOCK!

This is when the dentist said "Okay, this is what we're gonna do." and she rattled off a very basic check list for him about what work was going to be done so he could "check it off".  I loved her for that.  She kept the X-ray bib on him to act as a weighted blanket. I gave him one of his favorite fidgets to hold and we just went for it.

Now it wasn't perfect. He had moments here and there of trying to grab her hand but I was able to take his hand and hold it down without much of a fuss on his part. His aim was pretty punch drunk so he really couldn't grab her.  We did LOTS of singing and at one point three grown women were serenading the Kiddo the best of Thomas the Tank Engine songs.  There was a point towards the end where I almost started crying because I couldn't believe that we were actually almost done and that he had done it without needing full sedation.  I was so stinking proud of him.  I was practically beaming. I couldn't wait to tell all of you Fries because I knew you were going to get why this was such a huge deal.

Then we were done. I don't know how on earth we pulled it off but we did. From two cracked teeth to two brand new perfectly formed ones.  I could tell even Kiddo was pretty damn proud of himself.  Not gonna lie, I was also beyond grateful in my wallet as doing it without sedation was so much cheaper.

It was only later at night when I started feeling very guilty that I had just spent the past twenty four hours blaming autism.  I started thinking how it was the flapping from being overstimulated part of autism that caused him to get hurt in the first place.  It was the sensory issues from autism that made getting even a simple teeth cleaning an ordeal.  I spent hours through all of this being pissed off that a behavior through autism had hurt him and it was autism again that would make treating the injury even more difficult. I blamed the communication issues that come with it because I was convinced he wouldn't understand what needed to be done and he wouldn't really be able to tell us what was scary to him.

Sometimes I blame autism and then I blame myself for placing blame on a part of my son that he has no control or say about. I might as well place the blame on his left elbow or the freckles on his nose.  Autism is just part of the package.  You would think I'd be used to this stuff by now.  Maybe I should have asked for a hit of that Laughing Gas. ;-)

Kiddo celebrated being a brave boy in a #TeamQuirky way. Tackling dental drama and getting my stairs cleaned? Is this Heaven? I think it is!