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Kristen is a home­maker, home­schooler, and a home­keeper. Her experience includes nineteen years of practice, raising three kids, a husband, and a dog. Writing about her life helps her stay sane. She believes that sharing stories helps others by providing opportunities to share advice (and helpful hints) about homeschooling, and raising kids on the autism spectrum, while supporting marriages and families that are striving to thrive.

MWH blog april

We're All a Little Mad Here

but, no support groups!

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I last wrote about the awesome month of April being the awesome month of autism awareness. Furthermore, I challenged the readers (y’all!!) to help move the collective thinking and discussions surrounding autism into more of an autism acceptance stance.

I wrote last week about how my kids are proud of who they are, and how understanding that autism means their brains are wired differently and work differently than most of their friends’ brains do. On the surface, it’s a pretty easy explanation. I don’t want to diminish though, that we have had many tears, many gut wrenching conversations about how being different is not so easy. Trying to explain why they don’t get many birthday invitations or sleep over invites is a difficult conversation to have. “Because your brain works differently than most other kids,” is not always an acceptable answer, either. I’ve often commented that it would have been nice to get an instruction manual with these kids, because I’m so sure I’m messing things up everyday because I’m missing the manual! All we can do is muddle through sometimes, and pray, like all the time, I guess. I am no expert, but I’m proud that my kids are proud, of even the hardest stuff.

So, we (the oldest and the youngest- the two on the spectrum) were in the car for a road trip on Monday. Tommy had been home for Easter, and his birthday, and I was returning him back to Woodrow Wilson. We got on the subject of April and autism and awareness.

“I hate that phrase!” Tommy exclaimed, “Aware... of what?!”

“Autism,” Katie answered, “yeah, I think it’s weird, too.”

“Huh,” I chimed in, “one of my friends said she was wary of any day or month with the word ‘awareness’ attached to it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Tommy answered.

“Yeah,” Katie added, “So you’re aware... now what? Do you want a prize or something?”





When I can’t think of an intelligent response, “huh” usually suffices. It works well when I’m surprised or flabbergasted, too. Which, of course, I was-- both surprised and flabbergasted. I thought they were both “good” with autism awareness stuff. I thought they understood that the awareness campaign was to help more people understand and be aware of the differences and challenges that arise with autistic family members and friends. I, therefore, started to espouse all the things good about the autism awareness campaign and I even told them that I had a post going up that very day about all that stuff.

“Mooooommmm,” from Tommy, flapping, in the back seat.

“Mom!” from Katie, bouncing in the front seat. “It’s ok!”

“It’s just that I think it’s not a bad thing, you know, being aware and even accepting of people that see the world differently, and all that.”

At this point in our trip we were on the mountainous portion of the highway, so I couldn’t really look into my kids’ faces and try to ascertain exactly what they were feeling and trying to convey. Tommy tends to be very wordy, which is interesting because he was so not wordy until he was four. Katie is more physical, though. Their faces truly help me understand them better. I felt a little blinded, at the moment, on a curvy mountain road.

“Alright, well, awareness is fine, mom, but then what do you do with that? So, that is what I mean.” Tommy answered quite plainly, not upset; Katie, I noticed out of the corner of my eye,nodded in agreement. Then, Tommy continued.

“Furthermore, I think autism is what makes great people great. You can’t argue that some of the most brilliant people have autism, and a lot of them are my heros. This is what I love about the idea of a multiverse. The multiverse is full of different people, warriors, heroes, artists, that all probably have autism... so why do I need a support group?”

Wait... what? Support group? Katie rolled her eyes, and sighed, “Here we go.”

I guess they had already been talking about this, and I missed it.

“Yes, yes, in school the guidance counselor wanted me to go to one, and in highschool I had to go to one, and they even have one at Woodrow Wilson. I’m not an addict or on drugs, or addicted to anything bad... so why would I need a support group? It’s stupid!”

“Huh,” I answered. “Well, I have an easy answer, actually.”

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Well, support groups don’t have to be bad. They’re good, actually, even if you’re in one for a not-so-good reason. MOPS (Mothers of PreSchoolers) is a support group. Prayer group is a support group. Small group is a support group. I’ve been to several autism support groups, and I have even been to a breastfeeding support group.”

Eeewwwwww- from Katie. Flapping from Tommy.

“So, see? Sometimes people just want and need support in things that set them apart, or make them different, or are challenging. It helps to make you feel like you aren’t always messing things up, and that you aren’t alone.”

Without missing a beat, “Well, I don’t mind being alone.”

I know. I know. I know. It is kind of crazy that the majority of people with autism that I know would much rather be alone, or in a very small, like only one other person, group situation. Maybe the groups are made by the neuro-typical people that want the neurodiverse people to feel more like the neuro-typical person would want to feel... In other words, a support group sounds like a great idea to me (neuro-typical), but it would be to make me (neuro-typical) feel better. And here is the epiphany: autism awareness should be about acceptance. We all see things a little differently, and in the autism community every person with autism is different. Hopefully, the awareness part of the autism awareness campaign will lead to more acceptance of those very things that make each person with autism unique. So, after a pregnant pause, I answered:

“Well, then, I guess you don’t need a support group, then... but, isn’t autism awareness ok?”

“Yeah, just leave out the support groups.”




Copy. Got it. Keep Calm. Accept autism. Support groups optional. And Parent ON!

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Autism Awesome Awareness

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So, April is the month for all sorts of awareness and appreciations. Aside from it being autism awareness month, it is also child abuse prevention month, jazz appreciation month, math awareness month, volunteer appreciation month, something with kite flying appreciation month, deaf history month and poetry month. There are more, but I don’t want to overwhelm anyone. There are a lot of reasons to be engaged, to be aware and to be appreciative.

Having a couple of kids on the spectrum (as in autism), I have always appreciated April. I’ve put up blue lights for the “light it up blue” campaign that is an Autism Speaks gig. I appreciate TJ Maxx donating money to the cause. I love seeing puzzle pieces and signs and t-shirts that sport the autism awareness slogans. I think that, for the most part, we (as a family) feel like we are a part of something big and beautiful and messy at times -- and that autism awareness is a good, great thing.




Let me add, my kids are actually pretty proud of their autism. My son, especially, has been able to articulate that autism is a part of him. He feels like he thinks in a very special way, he can appreciate that his brain is wired differently from his sisters’ brains, and he couldn’t give a fig what others think of him because he is who he is and that’s all that there is. It isn’t all sunshine and roses (believe me, we had a meltdown today), but he really is very (extremely) confident in who he is and he is quite ok with how he views the world. Katie is very similar, but I think she is a little more sensitive to being aware of how others look at her. She wants to be accepted, I think, and cares about how she looks, how she dresses, and what other people think. We all want to feel accepted, of course, to some degree, but Katie is very acutely desirous of being accepted... by everyone. We grow these kids with big, big hearts, and rejection is super, horribly painful! Tommy, I think, just has a little more experience to be himself, whereas Katie is a thirteen year old girl... a thirteen year old girl with less filters than the typical child and with super magnified sensitivities. Imagine a teenager. On steroids. With a lamborghini. In gridlocked traffic. It's a wild ride at our house, all the time, mind you.




Now, honestly, I can go on and on about the good, the bad, the ugly, etc. I can get snarky when I’m tired, and I can dramatize some ups and downs of being an autism family. There are a great many ups, and quite a fair share of downs, and not a lot in between. When it’s good, it’s very, very good, which leads to the opposite of that being true, as well. I can share that I’ve had to put on the mama-bear-just-coming-out-of-hibernation-with-three-bear-cubs-to-protect hat several times during my career of mom of special needs kids. I’ve had to fight for the better part of twenty years to gain ground with insurance companies, physicians, and school officials. It’s not easy to fight for things all the time, and it is very, very hard to have to watch your child fail at something several times before actions are taken to accommodate their needs (here is where I plug in that homeschooling is a great option if you can do it). And, just maybe, these are all reasons to make autism awareness worthy of a whole month.




Now that my oldest is twenty years old, I can actually see strides in the awareness of autism paradigm. Most people, everywhere in this country, are aware that autism is a thing. When I see an older child having a meltdown in the middle of Target I look for ways to help, and so do my kids, and so do a good many other people. Not too many long years ago, my ten year old had a meltdown in Target and I got the “oh, you’re that kind of parent” snickers from people. That being said, around that same time, we, (actually- the girls and I) were at a fabulous dance studio where my oldest daughter danced, and when Tommy had a meltdown there (because he just found out dinosaurs were extinct), one of the studio owner’s kids took my oldest daughter to class, another took my youngest to play with Barbies, and the owner ushered us into her office where we could melt and deal with extinction issues in private and away from stares and glares (Thank you, Bobbi!). Anyway... Autism awareness is a good thing, and we’ve come a long way.

Now, though, there is a new challenge as the first huge wave of diagnosed kids are graduating from high school and heading toward future goals (whether those goals include college, work, or living more independently), and that is acceptance. Acceptance is such a buzzword lately, and is usually directed at social situations. Well, autism is one such situation that requires acceptance. Patience, kindness, and time are the currency of living with, loving, and working with people on the autism spectrum. Ups and downs will abound. The payoff, though, is usually a very loyal and loving individual sharing their space and perspective with you. And usually, your mind will be blown away by the depth of that person’s understanding of their world -- and yours.




Keep calm, love autism, and parent on!

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Testing Time!



It’s that time of year where I start to feel like I’m coming up short. Short on time, short on attention, short on patience, short on understanding. Spring is finally here, the weather is usually warming up a little, and thank-goodness daylight savings time (best invention ever!) has begun. Sunlight is a most welcome intervention for those of us that tend to suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (yes, it is a real thing, and sunlight really is the treatment). So, why the spring for coming up short? The short days are over, the planet is tilting toward the sun, everyone should be starting to feel a little better... right?

Everyone has those seasons of life that are thankfully (for most) short lived, but that also wreak havoc on emotions, or relationships. No one is immune to stress, believe it or not. Everyone knows someone who seems like they have it all together: always these people are wearing real clothes, and have their hair washed, and they look presentable. Here’s a secret, though: even said put together people are stressed out sometimes, and they probably even hide out in their bathroom just to have a few minutes of peace- I’m just sayin’- I know one of these super-people, and she swears she has her moments. My season for hiding out-I can’t even-I don’t want to go out or do anything-have to talk to spring. I’m irritable from the allergies (that are worse every single year!), I’m hypersensitive to everything around me, and for reasons I still haven’t figured out even after twenty-two years of marriage, my husband is always emotional in the spring. And, this makes me (very) emotional. The emotional barometer in our house is just whack-a-doo March through May. We are whack-a-doo March through May.




On top of everything else, it’s testing season. SATs, SOLs, Drivers License Testing, finals, projects, you-name-it, it all happens in the spring. We homeschool, yes, and we still have to do a standardized test every year. So, I’m short emotionally, and educationally - even if I really am not short educationally - it feels like I am. Did we cover enough material? Will the children score well enough to not make people think we are doing nothing? That little one of mine just does not retain any information unless it has to do with Minecraft. She dislikes history, she despises writing, she is a reluctant reader, and she barely tolerates math and science. I’m always challenged emotionally and educationally when I consider her. It’s a good thing I’m crazy about her! She has a photography assignment due tomorrow, and she is asking for one of the pistols so she can put a flower with it and call it a still-life. I’m like, “whaaaaaat?!”


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I can only offer a little bit of wisdom, here, and it’s this: Roll with it. I know that it all will work out. I naturally stress if given any scenario, including happy things. My oldest, Tommy, is on the Autism Spectrum, and I just had no idea what I was going to do with “this kid”. Well, Tommy is successfully living away from home and participating in training for a job. My middle child, like me, stresses and gets anxious about most of the things of life. She is my peace-maker, and she will be blessed, but it’s a hard place to be when you are sixteen. I’m sure she is going to be OK; she is going to be driving on her own soon, and she is pretty much independent school-wise. Every time I start to worry about her, she surprises me with a breakthrough, or some spontaneous bit of wisdom only a middle girl could give. Even that little one is going to pass her tests (maybe by the skin of her teeth- or mine- mind you), and keep it together for her old mom, if only because I’m praying fervently for that peace that passes all understanding. The husband, even, always seems to show up with exactly what I need (hugs and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, if you must know) even though he works so hard, and hardly gets a day off, and just needs about seventy-two hours of sleep- in a row- all at once... Some day, baby... we just need to hang in there!


peanut butter cups sml


Testing time will pass, and the tests of life, those pesky seasons that seem to drag on and on; they will pass, too. One time, long ago, I paused long enough to blink, and here I am with three teenagers. The testing has looked different, and the seasons have varied, but we seem to keep making it through, somehow. So, to all the moms and dads and parent-people out there, know you aren’t alone! You aren’t the only one who hasn’t slept for three days. You aren’t alone in wearing yoga pants and a baseball cap. You aren’t exclusively having the worst day ever. For sure, we (parents) are all in the same proverbial boat, and sometimes it might feel like it’s sinking. This may happen for you out of the blue, or it is something that seems cyclic, and you are surprised by it, even though it happens every year, around the same time of year. Stop being surprised by stress. Know that the tests are coming. Be comforted that these seasons don’t last forever. Look around, count your blessings, and keep calm, and parent on!

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Playground Misadventures

We were enjoying the beautiful February weather (the day I wrote this post). Two words that don’t really go together in the same sentence are beautiful and February, right? However, that is what we, my youngest, my husband, the two dogs and I were doing today. Having labs, we took a long, long, never-long-enough walk through the woods in order to let them run around, sniff the smells, roll in deer poop (I’m told this is a dog thing), and run around some more- because they are crazy. Because I have a very physical thirteen year old, I made her hike and walk with us. I’ve discovered that on the days she accompanies me (or us, as the case was today) on the outside walk time, the better she behaves in the evening, and the better she sleeps at night. She will swear that she doesn’t enjoy the outdoors, but my girl keeps up with the labs, is in front of them sometimes, and is usually grinning from ear to ear while we’re outside (thankfully, she does not roll in deer poop).

We emerged from the woods across from a playground, which Katie wanted to play on for just a few minutes. I am usually the nay-sayer, but Mark beat me to the punch and said yes, because, sun. In February. We can stay here for as long as we want.

There were a lot of moms at the playground with their preschoolers, but Katie is used to being around all ages of kids. We homeschool, so she is comfortable speaking and playing with adults and kids both older and younger than her. Nonplussed, she bounded, ran, and leaped from the sidewalk to the playground, while Mark and I took the dogs to the shade to cool off, as It was actually quite warm.



Not ten minutes went by before Katie scaled the playground equipment, and pulled herself up to the tippy-top of the highest part of the outside of the slide. Mark and I were watching her. We were present, and obvious to anyone that we were, indeed, her parents, and, truthfully, we were chuckling a bit while watching her climb.

She be little, but she be fierce! This is Katie’s norm, you see. She is a climber, and I have spent several moments of her life either biting my nails, or just praying over her and turning away. Honestly, it’s just better to not watch, sometimes. We’re a little bit mad here, and a bit old-fashioned, I guess, by letting our kids play hard, and we also aren’t about stifling creative play. We aren’t going to put her or let her stay in danger. Katie is a strong sensory-seeking-input type of child; and she is an athlete. She always has been, and I’m pretty sure she always will be. Climbing things is part of the package that makes up Katie.


that little streak of red is our Katie-cat


So, while Mark and I are laughing and watching, one of the moms present became so not amused. She went running (not exaggerating) up to the play structure, gesturing at Katie and commanding her to get down from there right now, which Katie did, thank goodness. Not a lot of filters on that little one, but we’ve been insistent on respecting adults as a rule. Then, said mom returned to her group of friends that she was talking with.

Mark and I, however, became immediately somewhat defensive. What just happened? Do we respond? What’s going on?

“Maybe it’s a rule that she can’t play on the outside of the play equipment,” I remarked.

Ever calm (sarcasm) about the “safety police” as he calls them (Katie gets this type of energy from him, by the way; I’m surprised he survived childhood), ranted, “It’s a playground! She is playing.”

I just nodded as he walked over to the rule board to read said rules. He conferred with Katie, and told her she wasn’t in trouble and came back to me with the news that there was no rule about “playing wrong on the playground!” Obviously.

“Well,” I said, “then she should climb if she wants to. She isn’t doing anything wrong.”

Mark asked if he should say something, and I thought yes, he should. Like I said, we were in plain sight of her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong, and she wasn’t being rude to anyone. So, he did just that and very respectfully walked over to the mom and told her that he could see Katie, and he was comfortable with her climbing, and she wasn’t breaking any rules. Well, apparently this wasn’t even about Katie, it was about her kids. She didn’t want them to be encouraged by Katie’s climbing prowess and attempt the same feat. Mark was dubious, and remarked that that was on her. She replied that she didn’t want to go the Emergency Room, and then she escalated, I know, because I heard her voice rise, at which point, Mark very respectfully waited for her to finish, then nodded and repeated that he was comfortable with what Katie was doing, and that she didn’t need to correct his child, thank you, have a good day, ma'am. At which point, I witnessed her throw her arms up and throw a book she was holding to the ground, and then she stomped toward her car. Then I stopped watching, because I so don't like confrontations.

Now, I understand both sides of this coin. Other children would surely see what Katie did as “cool” and want to try the same thing. They might take a risk they aren’t developmentally ready to take. They might indeed have to take a trip to the Emergency Room. The other side of this, though, is that Katie had every reason to be able to play on that playground as every other child. The rules were not broken, and it wasn’t even a private playground, it was a Stafford Parks and Rec playground. Not only that, Mark and I were watching her. On top of everything else, of course, is the fact that Katie is a great climber!



Furthermore, here is a truth: Parenting is a hard enough job to accomplish successfully with your own children. Outside of blatant harming behaviors (throwing rocks or sand, pushing/shoving, biting), correcting another person’s child crosses a line. At least I think so. Again, if she was being rude, or inhibiting younger children’s play, or purposely creating danger for other children, by all means, correct away. Otherwise, let me (us, my family) parent my kids, and you can parent your kids. Also, let the kids play on the playground equipment. We, as parents, are not doing anyone any good by keeping our children in a bubble. I’ve found that most children have a pretty keen sense of self-preservation when it comes to play. If they aren’t comfortable climbing, they probably won’t climb (an aside, again, would be teaching true danger limitations, such as loose rocks, busy streets, dead trees).

We returned from playground-gate completely unscathed and pretty calm (we still had a mile-walk home), but a little more aware of something happening in our country. Everything is about safety and lawsuits, even on playgrounds, and some people truly believe that they are part of the village that needs to raise all the children. I’m all about helping friends out or keeping a child from bolting into the street, but if you are present and watching your child do fill-in-the-blank, and you are not upset, then it isn’t my job to overrule your judgment. I think that would be bad manners. Also, injuries are inevitable during childhood. It happens. It stinks, but, guess what happens when a child gets injured doing something? I’ll tell you. They learn.

Keep Calm, and parent on!

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Allergy Alert!

Well, this weather in Virginia is just crazy this year. I’m writing this while it is still February, the sun is out, and it’s going to be seventy or so degrees today. I love it- trust me, I am not complaining- but... Almost always, a mild February means a mean March. I am trying to prepare myself for the proverbial other shoe to drop. In the meantime, I’ve been outside soaking up some vitamin D (really, just the sunshine that helps the body use vitamin D), and I’ve been walking, walking, walking. I’m all about endorphins releasing this time of year. Also, the cherry-blossoms are blossoming. Meh. Poor things.

So, with this lovely weather, I have discovered that allergy season has started (a little early) and it has arrived with some sort of vengence. My whole family has itchy eyes, including the dogs. My youngest sounds like a pug with a sinus infection, and my husband is constantly rubbing his eyes, nose, face. These two do not believe in medication, so I feel like I’m on the psych ward from nursing school administering medications.

“Did you swallow?” and “Let me see under your tongue.”



Good times...

Besides Zyrtec, Clairitin, (or both on some days, though I can’t recommend that) there are some other ways to help your body and sanity get through this allergy season. This is not authoritative medical advice, as I’m not a doctor; these are just some mad-ninja-mom tricks I’ve learned over the years. They are opinions. They are suggestions. These might work for you. Like I said, we all have allergies, and these are some things that work for us, because we can't move to the desert, and I don't tolerate the cold.

Repeat after me: DO NOT OPEN YOUR WINDOWS. The lure of an open window, with draperies softly flapping in the crossbreeze, is strong. You must resist it. The pollen will be all over everything in your house, and on the pillows that you sleep on. Just say no.

Use fans. I find that the continual movement of air helps us. I think it is great background noise, too; I can’t sleep without a fan on. Ceiling fans actually can be used year-round, and they keep things like dust mites from settling in your bedding. Dust mites, alone, kind of creep me out, so the bedroom fan is on all the time in the bedrooms. I’m sure I drive my family crazy with my fan habit, but I really feel like it’s healthier to keep the air moving. In the winter, you can make it reverse direction so it doesn’t feel like a blizzard is happening in your abode.



Nasal spray up the nose after being outside is imperative. Plain and simple saline nose spray works wonders to clean out the nose. If the kids have been outside, they get a squirt up each nostril when they come back in. I also insist that they wash their hands, because that nastiness sticks to everything, and it only takes one rub to cause an inflammation response in the eyes and nose.

We have recently purchased some air-purifier plants, as well. The husband is dubious, while saying I’m cute, but I am telling you that I am hopeful this will help. We have real air purifiers, too. Each bedroom has one, and the kitchen and living room have them. We have an air-scrubber on our vent system as well. I’m dabbling into essential oils, too. It seems, though, that most of the oils purify the air. We’ll see. If you aren’t into essential oils, Febreze and Melaleuca make allergy reducing fabric and room sprays that I swear by.

Hydrate!! One would think I am trying to poison my children when I tell them to drink water. Water, though, is so important! Most of us (human people) do not drink the water amount that we should. Make it tastier by adding fruit, or mix a little juice into a lot of water. Be prepared to use the bathroom a little more at first, but after a while, the body adapts... or your bladder stretches... or you’ve developed super powers. It’s a win-win. Water does a body good!



Finally, as hard as it is, enjoy spring. Don’t hole up in your house like a recluse. Now is not the time for hibernation! Pray for regular rainfall (that helps lower the pollen count), but on the nice days, get out and enjoy the area. All too soon, we will be in the throes of one-hundred percent humidity and hundred degree temperatures, and the only pleasant place to be will be a in a pool. Take your allergy medicine, employ some ninja skills, and explore this great creation that God gave us. It’s better than wifi, truly. Plus, there are so many beautiful places to get outside in our sprawling corner of Virginia, and just a few hours drive can take you to the mountains or to Washington, D.C. for even more adventures.

Therefore, keep calm, fight allergies, and parent on. Go outside, too, for some vitamin D, and remember to wash your hands!

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Bikers Against Child Abuse, Inc. (BACA) exists to create a safer environment for abused children by empowering children to not feel afraid of their world. Imagine how an abused child feels when a group of large bikers rides up to their house, inducts them into their club and then escorts them to court to testify against their abuser.

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