I am just me.

I am a Mom of three, tired, frustrated sometimes funny……I am just ME.  I live in AWE(tism) of my wee boy Timothy.

Life is never dull, often screaming, crying and meltdowns in the back ground,

How do you do it, you say, you must be SUPER human you say!  All I can do is reply,  I am just me.

Its not easy, its not, having Timbit distraught, over something so mundane, so simple to us neuroTYPS-

A sock that feels so unright, a shirt collar too tight, that he throws his body to the floor and becomes UNHINGED once more….

God gave me three blessings, perhaps one in disguise;

To teach me to live life each day to the fullest, find beauty where others cannot see,

To slow down and appreciate,

I am just me. I am a Mom of three, tired, frustrated sometimes funny……I am just ME. 


Pizza and popcorn

Those are food groups aren’t they?  According to the boy they are.

Olive juice.  Remember when  you were a kid and saying “olive juice” made it look like you were saying “I love you?”  Funny.  Not sure what made me think of that. The other day I realized we passed our three year anniversary of the AUTISM doormat…so much has changed.  So allow me if you will, to reflect on what I have learned……

1.  Autism does not define you, it is simply a characteristic.  It makes Timothy a quirky, funny, silly and smart little person.  An after thought.  Not a prelude.  (bookmark that thought).

2.  I am a much stronger person than I thought.  Receiving a diagnosis like autism can be devastating.   For a long time I was in a deep dark place.  Only time, knowledge and empowerment can lift you up and a belief of a higher power, a bigger meaning. Your child will not be who you thought he would be.  He will be much better.  Trust me on this.

3.  I will not be ashamed of my child or allow others to make me feel that way.  EVER.  I am proud, prouder than ever of my son and will not hang my head in embarassment again.  Different is ok.  Different is amazing and it is beautiful.

Off my soapbox now.   If you haven’t caught my drift yet, what I’m trying to say is that YOU are your child’s biggest and best ally.  Stand up straight, shoulders back and face forward.  Its going to be a tough, hard and bumpy road.  But the view along the way is priceless.

DSCF6909Six months before diagnosis.


Dec 2413 4722 years, 10 months after diagnosis.

I’m so sorry to hear that..

Said the woman on the phone at Revenue Canada when I told her my son has non verbal autism.  I’m sure she was trying to be polite or diplomatic or something?  But really, he’s not dying? 

Good grief.  Instead, I replied “Its fine.  He’s fine.  We’re fine.  Thank you.”  Carry on. Deep breath, big girl panties on.  This morning was a bit of a challenge.  Timothy woke up as per usual; which means, dragging his huge blanket down the stairs headed straight for the furby.  Its become his latest favourite toy.  It may find its way to the bottom of the toy box today…just sayin…

I changed his diaper, warmed his milk and got the other two kids off to school.  This is where it got hairy.  Jake (aka Timmy Daddy) got home from work and we prepared to get Timothy off to school.  He started hitting and kicking at Dad.  Wouldn’t walk.  Bus driver impatiently waiting outside.  She has seen this before.  It happens a couple times a month.  But Daddy was tired so he waved the bus onward and waited for the storm (Timmy) to pass.  It lasted another thirty minutes.  For once I was spared from his aggression but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.  Where was this section in the parenting manual?

Dad took him to school and I started on breakfast for the two of us.  Cause bacon fixes everything right?!


Good riddance January

Wish I could say this year started off with a bang (in a good super awesome champagne cork kinda way) but no it surrrre did not.

Never been a big fan of January, or winter in entirety.  We are going a little stir crazy.  Its been a struggle with Timothy’s new schedule and both of us ‘rents working shifts.  Then it got really hairy when Rec swimming came up which looked like this:  School 9-3, wait for bus at 310 and drive to IBI therapy 315-515.  Pick up and drive to Rec swim until 7 pm.  Pick up and take miserable, hungry and tired kid home to bed.  Wake up in the morning, rinse and repeat.  We had a bit of a scare a few weeks ago with one of Timothy’s school’s connected ECE’s arrested for child molestation.  Errr can someone pass the xanax please?  We are pretty sure our school had no specific dealings with this individual so hopefully there was only one victim(not to minimize).

Thursday was a pretty craptastic day as well.  Timothy has school Tuesdays and Thursdays and he is usually happy to go.  This day was no exception.  I worked night shift this week so off to bed I went while the husband headed over for the results of Timothy’s IQ testing with the psychometrist @ Lansdowne.  I got up for Timothy’s bus and off he gets, happy as a clam.  We were not even through the door to hear the phone ringing and (da da daaaaa) it was school. 

On a side note, if you have ANY autism tenure you will know that anytime the school calls home its not good.  Today was no exception.  Timothy was banging his head off of the floor during a tantrum and one of the EA’s leaned over him to put her hand underneath his head to minimize the impact.  Well, I guess it was a little too close for the boy.  He kicked her square between the eyes.  Jesus take the wheel.  Poor woman had to leave the classroom and get some ice.  Mental note to up all end of the year gifts.

But seriously, I felt terrible.  Really really terrible.  Its not a nice feeling to hear things like that about your kid.  Nobody does.  So that was my first cry of the day.  Second one came a few minutes later when the husband texted me about regarding the results of the IQ testing.  Timothy scored 1’s and less than 1’s.  Neuro-typical kids typically score 4’s.  This was devastating.  In the back of my mind I knew this is what we would hear but a teeny tiny part of me still had hope that it wouldn’t be so.  I did the only thing I could think of.  I called Mom.  I could barely get the words out and then I bawled like a small child.  I am tearing up writing this even now. 

Its not the end of the world.  Nothing has changed.  Just an ugly reminder that, hey- autism sucks sometimes!  But days, weeks and months like this only make me more resilient and determined to give this boy the best life I can.

So I  mop up my face before the other kids arrive home from school as I don’t want to explain to them why I’m upset today.  Not now.  My worries shouldn’t be theirs- not today anyway.

I hate to end this post on a negative so instead I will do it on a shameless brag.  Timothy can say his complete name and his age when asked!  I’m showing everyone.  P-R-O-U-D.  It may present a small challenge in a couple of months when he turns 6 but we will worry about that later. 

For your viewing (and listening) pleasure……..


Red heart Trish.