More Than Soup.

Not long ago, I ordered myself a little bowl of soup.

Small-ish.  But huge in my head.  I had been thinking about that little bowl of soup for years.  The more I thought about it, the bigger my little bowl of soup grew.  You've seen my little bowl of soup.  Maybe you haven't given it much thought?  But if you're even a little familiar with childrens' books, you've probably seen it before.

See it sitting back there.  Simple, right?  Not the biggest part of the story.  Certainly not when we were kids reading this book.  When I was a kid, I don't know that I even really loved Where The Wild Things Are.  The Wild Things themselves were neat to me.  I wasn't impressed with the kid's behavior.  I wasn't fooled into thinking he actually traveled somewhere.  I was a no-nonsense kid and wasn't buying that he was anywhere but in his bedroom imagining.  What I did think was cool was that the kid got to eat his dinner in his bedroom.  The little things, right?

As a 30-something mom with a kid with Autism, I see this book in a WHOLE different way now.  Actually, my Max was named after the kid in the book.  I liked the idea of Max being a kid full of imagination.  It's always been my dream for my kids to have big personalities with even bigger imaginations.  No other kid has ever been better named.  He has morphed into the King of the Wild Things himself.

Max was diagnosed at the age of four.  It was a long, slow, and grueling process.  The actual diagnosing took a few weeks.  It was all the professionals I asked from the time he was 2 years old that turned my hair gray and kept Max from receiving services earlier.  I heard things like, "He makes too much eye contact." or "He's too loving." I even heard, "He's way too cute!"  The cute statement came from his special needs pre-k teacher.  No one would listen.  No one would discuss his aggression, lack of speech, his picky eating, the je ne sais quoi I could feel in my gut.  It wasn't until I got to the right pediatrician who actually listened that I was on the right track.  The aggression though.  I have never gotten help with the aggression.  The aggressive aspect of his Autism is definitely the hardest on me, our family, and most of all Max.

One day, I read the same Where the Wild Things Are for the one millionth time.  Suddenly this childrens' book smacked me square in the face.  What the hell is Max-the-character's problem?  What if he doesn't just have bad behavior?  What if it is something so much more?  Something out of control?  Something like... Autism?  It added a whole new spin to the whole thing.  Where is the mom anyway?  Tired.  She is tired.  Too tired to once again pick up the fight and deep pressure hug Max-the-character until he succumbs to the lovin'.  She instead takes the easy route that she'll probably regret later - putting him in his room to work it out himself.  I could suddenly see through the eyeballs of that mama just trying to keep it together.  And I could see that Max-the-character was creating a world for himself when the real world became all too much.  That, to me, is one of the most painful parts of Autism.

But as we know, Max-the-character does come "back home".  And eventually, so does my Max when the world becomes too much.  In Where the Wild Things are, the mother helps Max-the-character in the only way she knows how at the time:  she is sure to give him a nice full bowl of soup, and, most importantly, she is sure it is hot.  She could have set it out at any point with a to-hell-with-it attitude.  But no, she was warm herself and kind.  And forgiving.  It was only a few weeks ago that I realized there is also a big piece of cake beside the soup.  The whole meal says, "not only do I forgive you, but I love you, and I understand you.  And I will always be here for you when you get back from your own world."

And so, now I can't read Where the Wild Things Are to my kids without a lot of deep breathing and eye blinking.  It just resonates so loudly with me.  My Max has come so far.  That bowl of soup represents to me a quiet patience that I strive to attain every single day.  Some days I succeed.  Some days I do not.  At all.  But regardless, I will always be there when he comes back home.

So... that bowl of soup.

 I carry it with me everywhere I go now.  I look at it often as I contemplate that quiet patience.  It has definitely been a journey.  This motherhood gig is by far hardest thing I have ever done.  But isn't it the hardest things, the things you bleed and sweat and cry over that often bring the most joy?

What Science?

It's strange, but even though lesson plans are something I do for the family, they make me feel incredibly guilty.  I can't explain why.  I suppose it's the whole sitting thing.  I am not running around flitting and flatting to and from mess to mess.  Maybe some of the guilt comes from the fact that I actually, somewhere deep inside, don't mind lesson plans.  And yet, I hate the jobs that are so important, but at the end of the day, there's no actual physical evidence that I worked my butt off.  The house is still a mess, the laundry is still staring at me through its hampers.

And every time I sit down to work on lesson plans, children crowd around.

"What are you doing?"

"Can I play on the computer?"

"Can you give me a bath?"

"Can I watch Netflix?"

Sometimes it can be lovely.  Like when a child can just sit with me and do a puzzle or look at a book.

On this particular day, a few weeks ago, I was working on The Littles' science plans.  Science has always been a struggle in this house.  I can't get on board with most of the popular homeschool science curriculums because I'm a fan of evolution.  I'm all about doing some religious studies, but including Adam and Eve in science studies has always baffled me.  So anyway, I've found a pretty simple science text I am going to Pinterest the hell out of and make my own plans.  This is hella hard since there's the writing of it, and the gathering of materials, and the actual execution of the whole thing, and then the actual maintaining.  We will see.  I sure do love ordering crap online and having it come to me all wrapped up in a neat box.

So, I gather my materials and put on my glasses.  Glasses = I mean business.  I open my planner and begin typing away.  We will start with the five senses.  Max sits down beside me with a frog book.

"Why'd we get the tadpoles, mom?"

Sigh.  "So you could watch them, Max."  On I go, typing away all about the five senses.

"Where'd you get them, mom?"

"From the neighbor's pool, Max."  I can sense now we are in a question-answer session, which is 75% of my time with Max.  I take a lot of deep breaths.  On I go.  Five senses.  Five senses.

"When do the tadpoles get their legs, mom?"

"I think about six weeks, Max."  Why can't I ever get time to myself?!

"How do they turn into frogs, mom?"

"I think there's a diagram in the book, Max." If I could just find some activities to go with the five senses...

"Where does their tail go, mom?"

"It disappears, Max." How the hell am I going to get this done?!

"Can you help me draw a tadpole, mom?"

FIVE SENSES.  FIVE SENS...  Oh... Suddenly I realized what had been going on right in front of me without my realizing it.  Science was happening right there with no pomp and circumstance.  And that's the best learning.  We read the book, observed, and drew some tadpoles.  I quietly shut the lap top.  I can't say that every day is like this.  But when it happens, it's sweet.

Bring On the Summer Slow Down.

It's been one of those weeks.  I'm worn.  Here's how it began:

That's my chimney.  In all its glory.  Embarrassing?  Sure.  Mucho.  But, hey, it's all done now.  Originally, some dude The Hubs knows wanted to charge us $1200.  Fourteen hundred dollars later, we did it ourselves.  Now, The Hubs would be quick to point out that in our total, we have a new porch door, two drills and a saw.  It was tiring and awful and with our hilly landscape, it took three days instead of one.  We're off the do-it-yourself kick for a long while.  Shout out to the brother-in-law and fam who came out to help.

A lot of this happened.  Because, I mean, how else are you gonna deal with a house full of people and an effed up chimney??

(And you can love on your fancy beers all ya want, at the end of the day, I'm a simple gal.)  It also helped me get through moments like these with each. and. every. kid.:

Almost all the kids had no problem going waaay above the house and I have a pretty tall house.  Did I take a ride?  No.  No I did not.

Max graduated from Kindergarten... again.  But for real this time, yo.

So it begins.  The "Am I doing everything I can????" questions.  To myself.  All summer.  The OT at school let her license lapse.  No OT.  Speech is a joke.  He's a little fish in really big waters.  Floundering around in the mainstream, yet not "bad enough" to be in the Autism class.  Teachers can not work with that they do not see.  There has never been help with his aggression and behavior at home.  So do we homeschool or go back to public school.  I have all summer to make that decision.  Yet, it doesn't matter how much time I have, I see both sides and they both have awesome points and they can both suck.  (I am eloquent, eh?)  Research I shall.  I'll make the decision and with enough luck I will look back and wonder why it was so hard to make the decision I made, hopefully.

This guy is cutting teeth:

And this is what we have planned this summer:

So that was the past week.  It felt huge, and yet I have been stuck in this house for all of it.  I'm ready to cool off for a while.  The summer slow down is most welcome all up in this hizzy.  And hopefully, just hopefully... I can blog more.  Maybe.

Somewhere.

He fell asleep here.  On his window sill.

Watching the "older boys" play.  They aren't all older.

Shirt backwards and inside out.

He was playing with his pirate ship, perhaps dreaming of being somewhere else.  Somewhere where every one understands.

He never complains.  Never says anything about the running and screaming and giggles from the "older boys" playing in the cul-de-sac.

The cul-de-sac is a dangerous place for Max.  Mom isn't out there.  Mom is home.  And the world can be a scary place.

He plays with his toys.  And he watches the boys.  His day will come.

He's going to show them.

He is amazing.

Five For Friday

'scu me if I offend, but... Dr. Who...?

I don't get it.

I don't need it.

My family is totally into it.  Like, right now in fact.

Moving on.

Wanna Five For Friday??  Here we go!

1.  My newly purchased homeschool books are usually in danger once a day when a small child asks me something totally off the wall and I damn near spit my coffee all over them.  It does happen often and I realize this is just the nature of having kids.  Today's handwriting lessons took me to a crazy place when out of nowhere Cooper announces, "You know, I know there is no Santa Claus."  Random.  I'm sick of dealing with the big fat man in the red suit who gets all the credit for Christmas when The Hubs and I are the ones scrounging to find just a bit of fluff in our budget to get even the smallest things.  (We hardly dealt with the guy last Christmas and followed a whole new plan... mayhaps I will tell you about it someday.)  Anyhoo... I looked the wee man in the eye and simply said, "Whatever you think you think, keep it to yourself and don't ruin the magic for everyone because that's what it all really is... magic."  He seemed to accept it.  He then proceeded to ask me the meaning of life... which is where I almost spit out my coffee.  I gave him some catechism answers, some Mother Theresa-ish answers and told him it really is up to him what the meaning of his life is...  then I wiped my brow and drank more coffee.  Kids, man.

2.  I have been trying to get Finn to sleep in his stinking big boy bed.  And I ask the child, "Don't you want to sleep in a big boy bed?" and the turd is smart enough to say, "No.  I a baby."  Smart as a whip, I tell ya.

Yesterday, in fact after chasing him every five minutes back into his little bed, he just nonchalantly came wandering back in to the kitchen... wearing a pink tutu... and wielding a small pink teapot.  "You want some, Mama?"  What do you do with that??  The clock told me to shrug my shoulders and say, "I suppose" and add some fake "nom nom nom"s.

3.  Went and met with Max's teacher today.  I said in much nicer words, "How the hell do I get this kid to settle the hell down and stop with all the violent aggressive shit!??"  I will probably dive much deeper into it later, as you people have made it loud and clear that YOU ARE ON THE AUTISM BANDWAGON.  If I have learned anything in the last seven months it is that once you are on this train, it is hard to find GOOD SOLID information that pertains to YOUR child.  I will start sharing our journey a lot more because it is relevant and you guys have told me you want to hear it.  Maybe something will slip right out of my babbling face and touch you in some way.  ... good touch, not bad touch...

4.  I was sick this week.  I FREAKING HATE BEING SICK.  What a damn hassle.  The snots, no less.  Makes me feel like I am somehow drowning inside my own body.  I can get some wicked claustrophobia, but that has to be the weirdest.

5.   I take some HUMONGOUS comfort in the fact that summer is now unofficially over.  Thank you Labor Day for reminding me that long sleeve t-shirts and pumpkin flavored everything will soon be on their way.  No more stressing over making sure we get out and do EVERY SINGLE DANG THING you are expected to do over summer... picnics, fireworks, outdoor movies.  It was nice, but I am done.  Bring on the chill.

                               

ciao, ya'll.   Dr. Who will be over in a sec, then once again, chaos shall ensue.

Where the Hell...?

Let's just cut to the chase.  Here's some biggies that happened in the last year:

1.  The Hubs has a job.  Thank God, right??  It's been over a year since I last posted.  He did end up impressing the competition and went full time.  Every time I hear his truck fire up I seriously say a little thank you prayer because I just love his company so much.

2.  Max has Autism.  Yes uh-huh.  That's what it is.  That thing I've wondered about for years, but people have always brushed it off and shut me down about it.  Diagnosed.  Yep, Autism.

3.  Guess who's going to have another baby.  Ha.  Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.  Jesus.

4.  Third grade is the first time you have to cumulatively test your homeschool kid here in Georgia.  Then every third year after that.  Coop tested at the highschool level in a lot of the subjects he was tested in.  I had to get that brag in.  Now I shall leave it alone.  But after I say, HEY THIS HOMESCHOOL THING MAY BE WORKING.

So there it is.  Let us start fresh, shall we.  None of those back-em-up-and-explain-what-we're-up-to ridiculously long posts.  That's it in a nutshell:  Autism, pregnancy, homeschool.  That pretty much sums it up.

See you soon.

No, for reals though.

Five For Friday.

It's been an eventful week around the Awesome Abode.  Let's say an interesting two weeks...  Things are looking up!  Was that the sound of actual positivity in my voice??  yup.  I still live much of my life in hyper vigilant anxiety, but I can definitely maybe see a light at the end of our unemployment tunnel. 

Here's my summary of the goings-on lately...  I am tired though.  All six kiddos are under one roof and for some reason the three in diapers have just wanted to poop all damn day.  This entry may make no sense.

1.  The Hubs is working!  Well... part-time.  But part-time is better than no-time!  It's been nearly 5 months since he has had regular earn-a-check work.  I've damn near forgotten how it works.  While trying to figure out how to make this weeks meager check stretch, suddenly it occurred to me, "Wait! He gets another next week!"  Wowzer.  It has just been so long.  It's still a struggle, no doubt, but the company that hired him sought him out and created the position because they liked what he had to offer.  He has been busting his ass to impress the pants off of them and he's hoping that it will lead to a full-time position.  Keep your fingers crossed.  Pray.  Sacrifice a chicken.  Do whatever you have to do.  ...I would like to add that it does not hurt that he now works for the competition of his last employer.  That helps to soothe a bruised ego.

2.  Max is done with school.  I am happy dancing right now... see me?? 

While he does still need to go back next year for speech twice a week, it is an enormous relief to know that everyone will be under one roof for school next year.  We will be on our schedule.  That getting up for the bus junk is for the birds.  I also didn't like thinking, "Oh! No! It's getting late!  Better get Max to sleep so he can get to school tomorrow!" We like to mosey on sometime around a decent bedtime and rouse slowly at a good time in the morning.  Less stress that way.  I tell ya what is stressful though...  considering homeschool curricula and ideas for this little guy.  He's a unique one and his learning style is going to be as unique, I bet. 

3.  Maximus also had a birthday this week.  Apparently it's Max Week.

He's four now.  This seems so old and yet he is so young too.  Someone did me a great dis-service last year at Vacation Bible School.  They looked down at Max who was holding my hand and waiting for his brothers to be dismissed and told him, "Just think, Max! Next year you will get to go to Vacation Bible School!" Max could only babble at the time.  I looked at him and was simply astonished.  I knew at that point that there was no way he could be fully involved in a simple pre-k VBS.  The person who made the comment knew nothing of what we had been going through regarding SPD, speech, the school system or all the questions we had about potential autism.  The question has stuck with me and even as we are about to sign everyone up again I wonder... how will he do with a regular class of children?  He still wears diapers and his speech is not quite discern-able to people outside of our family.  No one will know of the huge strides he's taken just to get where he is and how amazing we think he is.  It's just a simple VBS class, but between you, me and the internet, it makes me a little nervous.  We shall see.

4.  And on that note...  Project Gluten is still a-go.  Now that he's home full time we'll really see where we can get.  It was rough at first, I'm not going to lie.  I do have a habit of making things a little more complicated than necessary though...   Here's where we are:  to plan dinner we buy a meat.  We throw a fruit with it.  We eat a veggie with it.  We eat a salad with it.  There's no gluten in that stuff.  I have figured out that perhaps Kroger is the best place for going gluten-free... if you need anything snazzy like gluten-free cookies, breads, crackers or pasta.  They are whole dollars cheaper than Publix.  Aldi is the very best for price and labeling.  I have really only had to tweak our grocery list a bit.  I'll save our results for a later post, but I will say... It's going pretty well.

5.  Something's bugged me all day.  I wanna share it because if I don't put it somewhere, it will bug me.  And it's my blog... so there.  I don't like talking politics or religion or any of that crap, but here we go.

I went to bed a Christian last night and this morning I was passive-aggressively told I was no longer a Christian.  I shared a post from George Takei last night expressing his joy that the Boy Scouts had voted to allow gay scouts into the organization.  I simply said, "The Boy Scouts are finally getting with the times. Now what about leaders[?]" This morning I woke up to a horrible post from a friend declaring that you cannot have those types of ideas and call yourself a Christian.  Twas complete with verses and damnation.  I have all day pondered then if, after such judgement, I would even want to be lumped into a group of people that would say such a thing.  In our home we teach our children to love everyone.  That love is love.  That God created and loves all of us... regardless of color, religion or sex.  I believe not letting a gay scout sit around a campfire and tie some knots or receive his Eagle after such hard work is as asinine as using separate water fountains or segregating schools.  The only hang up I had about my kid joining Scouts was the fact they were against gay scouts and leaders.  I hope they continue to make these strides so that one day gay leaders can be included.  My children know no difference between the love they see between their Daddy and I and say, Ellen and Portia. Call me Christian... don't call me Christian... call me crazy... I don't give a shit.  I know mine and mine knows me.  

Jumping down from my soapbox.   

I feel better now.  I realize this is just as passive-aggressive perhaps.  I realize The Facebook shouldn't get to me so much...  but sometimes that's the only socialization I receive during a busy day...  why's somebody gotta muck it up with that crap?  Sigh. 

So on we go...  Everyday a little bit better.  Things are progressing.  Everyday I feel a little more normal, although I am still eternally grateful for the lessons we've learned along the way.  New normal. 

Have an awesome weekend folks.  Remember the reason we are free to barbeque and relax on Monday.

No Dying Via Smooshing Tonight!

What.  Up.  I am feeling freaking exhausted and I will tell you I don't necessarily think it's always because I am 21 months pregnant.  I haven't posted in awhile... mainly because the shit has hit the fan...  in a good way...  maybe??  Things are getting done.  I have implemented my 'Evil Plan'.  I may let you in on what it entails this week.  I will say that it has been working excellently and soon I will breathe again.  A recap of just the past 10 days... only in the order of which they come to my brain.

1.  One of the dead trees is gone.  Praise Baby Jesus.  I haven't gotten to 'try it out' yet though.  It hasn't freaking rained or stormed since.  I haven't been able to lay in my bed and think, "yaaaaay!  no dying via smooshing tonight!" 

2.  I had the mother fucking IEP meeting.

3.  On that note, I had five people sit around a table and after I asked, "well, we've knocked around the word 'autism' a lot...  do you think this is what's going on here?" they all simultaneously nodded and gave a "yup."  That was both the most gratifying and puke-able moment of my life.

4.  At same meeting, we were in like flynn to the school system's special needs pre-k.  Gratifying, yet puke-able.  Passed... nay... failed with flying colors.  Yay?

5.  I signed up for 'transportation' through the school system.  I will be putting MY THREE YEAR OLD on a bus four days a week.  I am not exaggerating when I say I fear it like I feared finding my father dead when he came home for hospice.  (Fun side note:  I got to be the one to find him, coughing... the 'marble sound' they speak of.  The sign it is 'beginning'.  Monsters are real, folks.)  My brain lets me think it out in my hyper-vigilant, extremely detailed way only to the point he gets on the bus.  Then my brain goes fuzzy and I lose a bit of breath.

6.  Bought a pump for the washer.  What the what...???  We'll be doing laundry NORMALLY again!

7.  Not only have we been putting in resumes, but receiving new dangled carrots from the employer... either way, we're working on it.

8.  We have been cleaning out our clutter like the Hoarders on TV.  This is both for physical space and psychological space.  Mmmm... feels good.

9.  Lola finally got baptized.  According to my mother, she can now go to Heaven... whereas before, I suppose if something untimely had happened she would have suffered in the pits of Hell.  I don't know if my mother and I worship the same God...  at least, I haven't SEEN Lola commit any mortal sins at the ripe old age of 22 months...  hmph.  Either way, glad it is done and it was a most fabulous day with the Sis and good friends.

10.  Coop is OLD.  He is 7.  This also implies *I* am old.  I swear I just popped him out yesterday.

Well, that's all I can think of.  Dumping it here always makes me feel better.  Hopefully it is also moderately entertaining.  Some here, at church, at various places, probably assume I've finally had this baby due to my absence... nope...  just sitting over here, solving the worlds problems and quietly teeter-tottering on the edge of insanity.  

I leave you with pics of our picnic near a little pond we found over the weekend.  It was amazingly quiet and somehow relaxing even with my crowd.  I'd say its just what we all needed.

Twas a must that we go on a picnic ON Labor Day because that is exactly what the sticker said on Labor Day.  Z also expected us to pack everything that was on said sticker...
 

How's THIS for large??  Wowza.  Put me out of my misery.

I couldn't get Coop out of the pond.  He wanted to stay there instead of going to the playground.  Like a good Cub Scout, he even picked up all the litter he could find without being asked.  It's things like that that warm my heart.

 

After the pond/playground adventure, I quickly retired to a well-deserved nap.  After this little nap, I awakened to find my living room had been turned into a man-cave so as to enjoy video games.  What the hell??

It was a good day.



 

The Squeakiest Wheel.

I try not to blog when I'm irritated about something.  However, lately I'm afraid I would just have to shut the whole damn thing down for lack of material.  One of my favorite blogs lately is:  People I Want to Punch In the Throat.  She did it the right way... she lets ya know straight out the gate she's going to bitch and bitch a lot.  Maybe I should have done that.  If anything, I guess it is truly "always one more thing".  Well, anyway, if you don't want to hear another rant, you should probably exit here.

So last Friday we were kicking it.  I got Max off to the pediatrician, albeit... dangerously...  I thought, anyway.  The man of the house fixed those brakes right up.  Things were looking up.  At least if the school system was going to suck it, I could find help medically for Maximus.  The pediatrician I love so much had her nurse call me MONDAY to get the ball rolling on a referral to a developmental pediatrician.  Done and done.  It was good to sit down with someone who knew me, knew my kid, heard me out and woah... hold the effing phone... did what she said she was going to do.

I was walking around like a plump peacock all impressed that I was owning it and putting life where it needed to be.  (a little life maybe, no, not the effing laundry situation.  we're still baffled.) But at least some of the more important things.  I was chilling out at my desk, vegging out to some Facebook Tuesday morning when a call came through from a number I didn't recognize.  Yes, I screen.  After I got my voicemail, I was winded, shaking, seething and sensing a bit of a puke-tickle.

The driest voice says something to the effect of...  'Hi, Mrs. Awesome.  This is so-and-so's office.  I was calling in regards to Max's referral for a developmental evaluation.  Please give us a call back at your earliest convenience to set up Max's appointment.  Please note, we accept ONLY Blue Cross Blue Shield insurance.  If you have any other insurance you will be expected to pay the out-of-pocket charge of $1,200.'

She went on to say that I could make payments of $400 each.

And then I dropped the phone.

I'm sorry, what was that???  How can a person get away with that?  $1200 for ONE visit.  I can't describe how pissed off I was.  Is this normal pocket change for others?  I felt preyed upon... or something...  there aren't any words.  Except 4-letter ones...  I certainly did not call this insane woman back.  I couldn't think of anything decent I could possibly say to her... I knew diarrhea of the mouth would suddenly take over and I would scream at her for every little shitty thing that had happened in the last week.

After sharing a bit of diarrhea with the Hubs, I decided to use my ferocious momentum to call the school system.  I knew they weren't at their desks yet, but I would leave messages every fucking day until someone finally called me back.  I started with one hand written phone number on our IEP.  I have literally 5 different numbers and 5 different emails and 10 different faces from our last meeting.  I figured I would just keep calling numbers until someone knew SOMETHING.  Imagine my surprise when someone actually answered the phone.  THEN I was mad because they WERE there and hadn't called.  Oh, the nerve.

I left a message for the contact who actually called back within 10 minutes.  She had the very best possible excuse as to why the school system never called back regarding more specific testing for Max:

'I am so sorry, Mrs. Awesome.  We had lost his paperwork and forgot.'

What do I say here?  My feelings have ranged from homicidal to down right sad that no one seems to care... or that they'd rather make a buck.  Everything regarding 'special needs' seems costly, or slow, or overwhelming or just... careless.  I said to the pediatrician the other day, 'I just need the TOOLS.  I can do whatever the hell I need to do with the TOOLS'.  Can someone please just stand up and tell me what the hell is going on here???



I went to sleep that night with all these seething thoughts marinating in my brain.  It suddenly occurred to me that I had requested referrals for audiology and speech pathology in the first place.  The pediatrician was taking me down a whole other avenue.  Developmental Pediatrics???... they diagnose... autism.  Is this what we're doing now??  Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions.  I'm probably jumping to conclusions.  But there's a huge difference between googling 'autism', talking about 'autism' and actually pursuing 'autism'.

I've since found my own Developmental Pediatrician.  One who actually accepts insurance... including mine.  My doctor called me back within 15 minutes with a new referral.  And after a broken promise that someone from the school system would call me back yesterday in regards to the next phase of testing, I called them again too.

I've heard it and I knew it... but I didn't really know it...  YOU are for sure your child's only ally.  The only one that will speak up for them.  The only one that will fight.  You cannot sit back on your haunches and assume ANYONE will voluntarily do the right thing for them.  I am in the midst of this lesson.  I've been pretty naive, but I am coming around.  It is true, the squeaky wheel gets the most attention.