Family Day.

Grandma and Grandad are visiting from BC for the week. It is wonderful to see them and I love that they are here for Family Day. Here is Cam smiling for her dad: Cam having a nap in her Grandma's arms:

Cam chilling with her Grandad:

Max playing with stickers with Grandma:

Max cozying up with Grandma and Grandad while he has some milk:

Max checking out what I've been doing on my laptop, while Cam munches on an Arrowroot:

Vote for Katrina @ Fickle Feline 2.0 and send me to BlogHer in Chicago! My Rewards & Benefits of Blogging post made the Top 10 Finalists of the Mabel's Label's BlogHer Contest. So, please, vote for me! And ask your friends to vote for me too!! I am the smallest blog in this contest, so help me rock the vote!

Max Update.

Max has had a tremendous amount of progress in the last month. We are starting to hear more words (like "hot dog", "red", and "yellow"). His eye contact is a lot more consistent, he is mastering puzzles and shape sorting toys, he is responding to more signs (like "milk", "stop", and "play"). We've also noticed that he is tolerating his sister a lot more, though he is not a big fan of her new found voice (she tends to babble VERY loudly).

At daycare he has started to join the other kids during "tidy up time", and even applauded a little girl and said "yeah" to her when he saw her playing appropriately with a toy. This made me howl with laughter, because we are always giving positive reinforcement to him for appropriate play, and he is turning it around on us now. He is also napping without waking up screaming, which his teachers really appreciate. We also don't have to strap him into his stroller to take him places anymore - he will walk calmly and hold our hands without objecting and falling to the ground in a tantrum. He will spend a half hour doing sticker arts and crafts with me (he made his own Valentine's this year), and he will play roll/catch the ball with us, taking appropriate turns for as long as we are willing to play.

With the gains, there are always a few challenges as well, but I don't want to focus on those, as I find these "negative" behaviours typically only last a short period of time. As long as we ignore them, he will eventually tire of them and find something else to do to get our attention. Over all, we are very pleased to see that having him in 8 hours of therapy a week is helping him progress. These new gains make my credit card bill hurt a little less at the end of the month. He is worth it, and we will get him all the help he needs, whatever the cost.

Vote for Katrina @ Fickle Feline 2.0 and send me to BlogHer in Chicago! My Rewards & Benefits of Blogging post made the Top 10 Finalists of the Mabel's Label's BlogHer Contest. So, please, vote for me! And ask your friends to vote for me too!! I am the smallest blog in this contest, so help me rock the vote!

Happy Valentine's Day: To My Husband.

Fickle Feline: Hey babe - are we exchanging cards tomorrow?
Husband: Um, do you want to exchange cards?
Fickle Feline: Nah, I know you love me. I don't need a card for that.
Husband: Cool, I'm really busy today. Do you need/want me to get you that soap you like from Lush?
Fickle Feline: No, I'm good. That soap costs 1/3 of an hour of Max therapy. I don't need it that bad.
Husband: Alright - see you tonight.

Autism isn't romantic. It is, in fact, the exact opposite. When I look back at this picture of Scott and me on our wedding day, I think, wow, we thought we had already been through a lot of stress together, weathered many storms, walked through the fire...but really, we had no idea what tough times were, or what was headed our way. Having a child with a disability can tear a couple apart. The stress, it would make Barack Obama lose his cool. The sadness, would make a statue cry. The majority of couples with Autistic children don't make it, the stress is too much. But I know that Scott and I will be okay. We will get through this together, because we are best friends.

I'm not saying it has been easy. I'm not saying I haven't done my share of complaining. We fight, we snap, we grumble, we forgive. There are days where I think I can't take anymore. When Scott gets home from work, he sees it, and after he gives Max a bath and puts him to bed, he takes Cameron for an hour so I can relax, chill out, do whatever. I know that he is tired too, that he has worked all day, and I appreciate that he understands that I live for this hour "off".
Our life, it isn't glamorous. Most nights we don't get to sleep in the same bed - one child or another has one of us up, be it Cameron teething, or Max having an episode. We aren't able to take Max out many places, and our babysitting resources are limited. Our definition of a "date night" has changed since our days of living carefree in downtown Toronto. Watching a DVD together on a Saturday night after Max goes to bed, with Cameron sitting between us, that is good times. Even this takes planning to make sure we can make it happen. Love is getting up early and letting your partner sleep, even though you are exhausted. Love is a hug in the kitchen while your partner empties the dishwasher. Love is telling someone that no matter how hard it gets, you are going to be there, and it will be okay.
Scott - I love you. And I love you more every day when I see how patient you are with Max, how you don't lose your cool when he gets really upset, how you remain gentle even as he lashes out in frustration. I love that you take so much joy in seeing Cameron's progress, and that you too do not take any of it for granted. I love that you cherish me, and make me feel like I am a goddess. We have a tough road ahead of us, and I know that one day, we will get to look back at the life we have lived, and smile, knowing we did our best, together.

Vote for Katrina @ Fickle Feline 2.0 and send me to BlogHer in Chicago! My Rewards & Benefits of Blogging post made the Top 10 Finalists of the Mabel's Label's BlogHer Contest. So, please, vote for me! And ask your friends to vote for me too!!

Snippity-Snip, Barba-Trip.

I don't want any more children. My husband, Scott, doesn't want any more children either. We have two - one of each, one who needs a lot more than most, and the other is a mere 9 months old. So, why, if we know we are done procreating, is it so hard for either of us to bite the bullet and get ourselves "fixed"?

We both acknowledge that it would be a lot easier for Scott to get snipped than for me to get my tubes tied. I am tired of being on the pill, and one of the benefits of being married is that you don't have to monkey around with some of the other less desirable (cough, cough...intrusive) forms of birth control.

So, what do we do now? It appears we are at a stalemate. When I asked Scott why he is so hesitant to have a vasectomy, he told me that there was something about the procedure that made him uncomfortable. I understand, because I too, do not want to become "infertile", I am not ready to become permanently incapable of having children.

Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my heart, I have to admit that I am still open to the possibility of more children. The thing that scares me the most is the thought that we could have another child with Autism. I know this sounds terrible, but I don't know that I would be able to do this again. I mean, of course I would, I would love another baby as much as I love Max and Cameron and we would do everything we could to help another child with special needs, just like we are doing for Max. But I have to be realistic, that I can only take so much. I can only do so much.

I am looking forward to things settling down as the kids get older. I know that we will always be busy, but I am looking forward to the day that both my kids sleep through the night, and I can go on a date with my husband without having to pump milk for days in advance. I look fondly at all of my sewing supplies, packed up in the basement, waiting for the day that I will have more than just a few minutes to string together and I can sit down and...sigh...quilt. The thought of writing a blog post without a baby in my lap makes me downright giddy.

Huh. I'm not sure where this leaves us. Further discussion is certainly required. Is there anyone else out there dealing with this issue? If so do tell.

Vote for Katrina @ Fickle Feline 2.0 andsend me to BlogHer in Chicago! My Rewards & Benefits of Blogging post made the Top 10 Finalists of the Mabel's Label's BlogHer Contest. So, please, vote for me! And ask your friends to vote for me too!!

Vote For Me & Send Me To BlogHer in Chicago!

Good news! I made the Top 10 for the Mabel's Labels BlogHer '09 Contest with my "Rewards & Benefits of Blogging" post.

Now it's time to get the vote out. Please, please, please, puh-leeeez, go and vote for "Katrina @ Fickle Feline 2.0". I really want to go to BlogHer '09 in Chicago and with Max's therapy bills piling up (+$30,000 per year), this really is the only way I'll get to go.

If you so desire, you might even ask your friends to go and vote for me. You might even post about the contest on your blog and ask your readers to vote for me. Ahem. And, just so you know, if you do write about this on your blog, I will write a blog about your wonderful site in return. And if I win, I'll bring you back some of Chicago's famous Garret popcorn. I will. Promise.

Reality Check.

I am a big fan of reality television. I am currently watching The Biggest Loser and American Idol. Tomorrow, the latest season of Survivor kicks off, and I am ready. If inspired, I may even blog about each episode. I think this season is going to be a good one, and who can resist Peachy (Jeff Probst)?. In fact, I may even blog about American Idol (once they get down to the top 20). I love the new judge and I'm taking bets on how long it takes Paula to do something really wacky. And did I mention that America's Next Top Model starts up again in 3 weeks? 3 WEEKS! I can hardly contain myself. With the ups and downs of my reality as of late, I think I could use a pleasant distraction or four. Also...stay tuned for some very cool news coming tomorrow!

Early Autism Study.

Cameron had her 9 month checkup at McMaster today. She is participating in the Early Autism Study at Rutherford Lab. She is part of the group with older siblings with a diagnosis of Autism (there is another group of babies with older siblings with no diagnosis of Autism).

At each checkup, she is run through a battery of three tests. In the first test, she is shown different faces on a screen, and filmed at the same time. They are actually able to calibrate where she is looking, so they can tell if she is looking at the person's face, eyes, etc. In the second test, she sits on my lap, and I have to try to make her smile (without tickling her). I then have to point to to different objects in the room to see if she will look to see where I am pointing. This is followed by a game of peekaboo to see if she will respond appropriately. The last part is the clinician standing behind her and calling her name out to see if she will respond to her name. In the third test, shown in the picture, she is shown two screens with blue and red dots travelling around the screen. She is filmed to see if she follows where the dots are moving.

I am thrilled to report that despite being a bit cranky, she did great. Her next checkup will be right before her 1st birthday, and the week before I (gulp) go back to work.

25 Random Things...Yada yada yada.

I've been tagged a bunch of time in this 25 Random Things About Me meme on Facebook. I was trying to ignore it, but I have to admit that I've been sucked into reading a few of my friend's 25 Lists, so I figured I'd pony up and write my own. I don't think I'm going to tag anyone though, because most people I know are pretty busy, and I don't need to be another thing on their "to do" list. Well, maybe I'll tag you if you have tagged me already, meaning, you have already written a list.

1. My daughter was born on my birthday. Even better, my son was born on my husband's birthday. Our birthdays are all a week apart, April 23rd for the boys and April 30th for the girls. Mother Nature at her finest.

2. If you haven't already heard, my son Max has Autism. I am pretty much obsessed with helping him. I am incredibly optimistic that he will be okay, but I worry about him all the time.

3. Every time I see a clock at 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, 4:44, 5:55 or 11:11, I make a wish. My wish is always that Max will be okay.

4. I am not known for slowing down at yellow lights.

5. My favourite nickname is one my husband's friend Mike Nelson gave me: Nails.

6. Once I say I am going to do something, I typically complete it within a very short period of time.

7. My idea of a relaxing on a Friday night is installing new taps in all of my bathrooms. Stop laughing, I've done it.

8. I think about my weight too much and I beat myself up for thinking about it so much.

9. I have two degrees in music, but I don't like performing (it makes me feel incredibly anxious).

10. I would like to go back to school to get a degree in Music Therapy, as I believe that this is my true calling. There, now that I've said it, I will probably do it.

11. I think red heads are incredibly sexy, yet I have never dated one. In fact, my "type" tends to be tall, slim, brunettes with dark complexions. Go figure.

12. The majority of boys I had crushes on pre-University ended up being gay.

13. My husband is pretty much my complete opposite in every sense.

14. I am physically unable to get into an unmade bed.

15. I have more hobbies than I could possibly ever have time for (quilting, canning, crocheting, knitting, rug-hooking, teddy bear making...the list goes on). I look forward to the day that I can get back into these.

16. I would really like to take a life drawing class.

17. I have lived in Montreal, Ottawa, Toronto, Vancouver, and Iowa, but Toronto is the only place that really feels like home.

18. Someday I will get laser eye surgery. I would also like a boob lift and tummy tuck.

19. I hope that my relationship with my daughter is as good as my relationship with my mom.

20. My next house will have an exquisite bathroom with a beautiful soaker tub and nobody will be allowed to use it except me.

21. When I was three, my pet budgy died, and I asked my mom if it was "okay if I wasn't sad?".

22. I am physically incapable of sleeping in the buff, I need my pajamas.

23. I don't usually laugh out loud, unless it is at someone else's expense (I know, MEAN!)...I'm working on it.

24. The older I get, the less I care what other people think about me. This is very liberating.

25. I am looking forward to going back to work in a few months, and I feel mildly guilty about this.

And Finally, Tears.

Today as one of those days that you just know you have to get through. Cameron woke up at 4:30am with a fever. Nothing would console her. Max was awake too, rocking in his bed, banging his head against his padded headboard, shaking the house. Every time I coughed or sneezed, Cameron would start to cry again. She happened to have her 9 month checkup scheduled for 2pm, so I didn't bother taking her to the walk-in clinic. I probably should have, since she was so sick. She wouldn't let me put her down without crying, and when I gave her a bath to try to break her fever, she held onto her rubber ducky for dear life and sobbed.

By 1:15pm, I had her bundled up in her car seat and ready to go. If you live in Ontario, you know that today was wicked cold. The car was all packed, and I took a deep breath to calm myself. Key in the ignition, and turn, and turn, and nothing. Nothing. The car wouldn't start. And Cameron was screaming. And I was cold and tired. And suddenly, so, so sad. All the tears I had been holding back since December 2nd when the doctor looked at me and said the word "Autism" started to flow. I knew they were in there somewhere, but I had no idea there were so many.

My car won't start, my baby is sick, how will I pick Max up from daycare, it's 1:11pm - make a wish that Max will be okay one day, I don't have any cash in my wallet, my son is not like other people's kids, my son doesn't talk, my son can't say he loves me, my son can't say mama. My baby boy needs so much more than I can give him, and when I reach out to those that should help, they nod and say "yeah, that's too bad, uh huh", and then nothing changes. MPPs are full of shit, and the system is corrupt. My friends must dread talking to me because all I can talk about is how worried I am about Max. I want so badly to stay positive, but right now, I feel so, so down. And most of all, I am really tired of pretending I am strong.

Not pretty thoughts going through my head, but honest. Lucky for me, my mother-in-law answered the phone when I called her, and was able to calm me down by telling me it would be okay, and to take the baby to the clinic, and she would cancel the doctor's appointment for me, and she would pick Max up. So I loaded Cameron into the stroller, covered her with a blanket and walked to the clinic, my tears freezing to my face. By the time I got there, I wasn't so overwhelmed, and the tears had passed. I was just tired. In a weird way, it felt like a relief to have finally cried. I knew the tears would come eventually, I just never imagined they would be brought on my dead car battery.

The Rewards & Benefits of Blogging.

Mabel's Labels is running a contest to search for a blogger to send to BlogHer '09. To qualify for entry into the contest, you must write a post answering the question "What have been the rewards and benefits of participating in the blogging community?". The following post is my entry into the contest. Enjoy!

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Fickle Feline started out five years ago as a fun little website where I'd blog about reality TV and celebrity crushes. Since then, it's turned into one of the most rewarding and enriching parts of my life.

This world we live in, it can seem so big and impersonal at times. Participating in the blogging community makes the world seem smaller and has connected me to people I would have never known if I hadn't reached out through the blogosphere to tell my story...

My first post was very deep. After all, it was imperative that the entire blogosphere know of my love for Jon Stewart. I also wrote about important topics such as my fat cat (may she rest in peace), Christmas (still a favourite topic), the sexy co-stars of Law & Order: SVU, and expensive items that I would like very much, but could not afford.

I got a lot of comments, I blogged often, cursed like a sailor, and I kept my writing impersonal. I enjoyed getting comments, so once I figured out what types of posts would garner the most feedback, (mainly gossipy, humorous, tongue-in-cheek posts), I started writing more in that style. I specialized in writing posts about music shows (favourites included RockStar INXS and American Idol). Heck, I'd even take notes while I watched these shows and then stay up late to update my blog (I mean, I would hate to disappoint my faithful readers). I loved getting positive feedback about my writing. I loved people telling me I was funny. I loved it when other bloggers would link to me. To be honest, it wasn't so much about the community of blogging I cared about, it was about being popular, being one of the "cool kids" in the blogosphere.

And then (cue music), I got pregnant. Things changed. All of a sudden, it was personal. I no longer really cared about writing gossipy posts about how sexy the stars of Grey's Anatomy were (though I still internally struggle over McSteamy and McDreamy on a weekly basis). This personal pregnancy wasn't really that hip for my readers. I was tired, so I didn't post as much, and being preggo...it wasn't a lot of fun for anyone, myself included.

I started making friends with other pregnant bloggers, blogging about my belly, farting, and how I hated it when people asked me how much weight I had gained so far in my pregnancy. Suddenly I was checking my comments not to see if someone had responded telling me how funny and charming I was, but to see if any of the other preggo ladies out there had a cure for the terrible heartburn I was experiencing. To this day, I am online friends with the very same ladies I bonded with while pregnant with my first baby. I have even spoken with some of them on the phone and sent handmade gifts for their babies. Many of the relationships I have built through blogging are as meaningful as "real-world" relationships I have with people I see face-to-face on a regular basis. Because it is personal.

When my first baby was born, I started blogging about him. Actually, that's about all I blogged about. I mean, I was the first woman on earth to give birth, and he was the most beautiful child ever born. (Admit it, first-time moms, you all felt this way.) I posted monthly updates about him, the requisite videos, I even wrote a series on losing the baby weight where I (*GASP*) disclosed how much I weighed. The mommies stuck around, but a lot of my other readers fell off. I was okay with that, because, well, mommies are pretty much the most awesome women I know. We are a special club, us mommies. Membership is typically earned through extremely painful measures and sleepless, barf-ridden nights. I have learned so much from the online mommies I know - life lessons, recipes, parenting tips, marriage advice, you name it, we've discussed it - no holds barred.
The one regret I have is that I stopped blogging for a period of time. It was a very difficult time for us - I was pregnant with baby #2 and our son was starting to show the signs of Autism. It was very difficult to talk about, let alone write about. I was worried about blogging about my son's developmental delays and symptoms in such an open forum. Would I be judged? More importantly, would he be judged, and could this potentially hurt him in the future? In retrospect, I wish that I had persevered and kept blogging, because I know that the community of friends I have made through my blog would have supported me, lifted me up, reached out, and been there for me. It was too hard to write about at the time, but when I did start blogging about my son, and his diagnosis of Autism, the support I received was incredible. Knowing that so many people cared, and were deeply interested in the challenges we were dealing with helped me get through the day. The kind words made me want to continue to share my family's story, not just for me, but for the other families out there coping with the same struggles. There have been days when I couldn't talk about what was going on with my son without breaking down, but I was able to blog. Blogging is what has helped me stay sane.

Over the past five years, I have grown a lot and my blog has grown with me. I have learned that through my blog, I can reach many people, and just as important, they can reach me. This may be one little blog, but it is one in a million. Literally. I have a purpose in my life that I did not have before, and that is to help beat Autism. Not just for my son Max, but for all of the children locked away by this devastating disorder. With the power of my namesake hurricane "Katrina", and the support I receive through my blog, I know I can do it. Never underestimate the power of a momma blogger, never.

The Un-SuperBowl.

SuperBowl is a big deal chez Fickle Feline. Reminder invites go out before the Christmas hullaballoo starts in December, and mental preparation starts shortly after that. What worked last year? What was a dud? And now we have to take the kids into consideration to boot.

This year, we were going to have our lovely friends Shane, Stephanie and their little girl Charlotte over. Cathy and her boyfriend Gordon were invited as well but she was skiing out west, so they were a no-go. The week before the big day, all appeared well. Then Max started coughing. Crap. Then I started coughing. Double crap. Better phone our friends and give them the choice of backing out lest they expose themselves to our germs. Shane and Stephanie, being made of tough stuff, were still optimistic about attending, but wee Charlotte was another story.

In the midst of our chili preparation on SuperBowl morning (a new recipe care of Big Daddy Drew on deadspin), we found out that Charlotte was at the hospital because she was so dehydrated from the flu that she needed IV fluids. Obviously we were very worried about her, and hoped for a speedy recovery. But now Plan B had to be put into action. Scaling back was required. Perhaps pizza and wings were not necessary. And, scratch the veggie tray, that is really for appearances only. No need for a 2-4 of beer either. Scott went out to run errands with his somewhat revised grocery list and reappeared shortly with wings and beverages so we could enjoy the show.

At this point, Max, Cameron and myself were in full blown coughing mode and not feeling much like eating. Not that I expected Cameron to pull her weight in the wings department, but I knew Max was clearly under the weather when he started munching on celery. I made it to half time and when it became clear that the Steelers were going to run away with it, I went to bed. Ahem. Yes, I am aware that the second half was much more exciting and that the Cardinals almost won. I guess that's why they play the game.

Cameron is 9 months old!

I know I owe Cam her 9 month post, but I'm sick, she's sick, Max is sick, Scott is likely getting sick...so, I'll try to get to it this week, but in the mean time, please enjoy this awesome video of Cameron showing off her mad crawling skillz. Also, please ignore how awful my voice sounds, I'm sick and I can't breathe through my nose.

Music for Max.

Over the past few weeks, Max has been a busy little guy. It has been stressful for all of us, as he tends to act out when his world is turned upside down (don't we all?). Last week he started music/speech therapy, IBI, had a checkup at Sick Kids on his kidney, and a paediatrician appointment. That's a lot, even for a normally developing kid - it is no wonder that Max was left unimpressed.
At Max's first music/speech therapy session, he really struggled. He did not want to stay seated or participate - all he wanted to do was run around the room and tug on the door handle to try to escape. When I tried to bring him back to the circle, he screamed and thrashed about, which was exhausting for both of us. Luckily, the therapists - Sandy Lane and Lauren Murray, have pretty much seen it all, so this didn't stress them out. About half way through the session, we got him settled down and he was able to sit and observe, participating at a minimal level.
Given that we had a rough start with the first session, I was a bit stressed out as we headed into our second session. Max was whimpering as we entered Blue Balloon, and gave me a wary look as I coaxed him into the music room. But, to my surprise, he settled in immediately and managed to stay engaged for the entire 50 minute session! I think Sandy and Lauren are growing on him, and he seems to be starting to understand how the program works.

What I really like about the music/speech therapy, is Max's speech therapist, Sandy, designed the program for Max and the other little boy (named George) to meet their goals specifically. Max and George were both born in April 2006, have a diagnosis of ASD, and are at similar levels of development. By having them share the sessions, they also get the benefit of learning to engage with another child. Sandy also managed to find another little boy with similar goals (born in April 2006) to join our group, which brought the cost down. With the mounting costs of Max's therapy, I certainly appreciated that!

Over the next few months, Max will be in therapy 5 days a week. That is what he needs right now, so that is what we will do. While we can't afford the recommended 21 hours of IBI therapy a week (nor do I think Max could handle it), we are starting with 6 hours a week, plus music therapy. He also starts up another block of speech therapy at ErinOakKids in February. Luckily, he will have the lovely Emily as his speech therapist again, so he won't have to start all over and get used to someone new. I'm not sure how we'll manage all the to-ing and fro-ing once my mat leave ends and I am back to "work" in May, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Letter to My MPP, Kevin Flynn.

Dear Mr. Flynn,

I am writing to you via email in hopes that you will respond to me to discuss an issue that is of a very urgent nature. My son, Max, was diagnosed with Autism in December. He is only 2.5 years old. Max is a wonderful little boy (as you can see from his picture), and we are doing everything we can to get him treatment. The main course of treatment for children on the Autistic spectrum is IBI therapy (Intensive Behaviour Intervention) and the key years for the therapy to be most effective are between the ages of 2 and 5. The recommended number of hours per week is a minimum of 21 hours. At $45 per hour, plus program planning, this therapy costs $1000 a week. As I am sure you can understand, this is simply not feasible for the majority of Canadian families, mine included.
To understand Max's condition, you would need to meet him. I would like to invite you to our home to introduce you to our son, the light of our lives. Max is not able to speak, except for a handful of words that come and go (he is not able to consistently retain language). This inability to communicate is very frustrating for him and for us as it makes it difficult to meet his needs. He often falls and hurts himself because he is not able to relate to his surroundings, and he rocks back and forth and hits his head to cope with stress. He is not able to relate to other children, and has meltdowns and tantrums when his routine is disrupted. Max is not able to sleep throughout the night without waking and getting very upset. Episodes last up to 2 hours. We have to monitor Max every minute of every day to ensure the he does not hurt himself, and to assist him in every task that he undertakes (be that "play", getting dressed, or eating).

The current wait list to receive support from ErinOakKids is currently at 24-36 months. This is unacceptable. If IBI services do not receive a drastic increase in funding, Max will miss the key period for intervention altogether. I implore you to assist us in getting funding for Max. The quality of his life depends on it. Funding for him now would in fact be significantly less than the ongoing funding he will need throughout his entire life should he not receive this vital treatment now.

Please contact me as soon as possible to discuss this matter.

thank you,

Katrina C.

Max Update.

I realized the other day that the last post I put up seemed...well...I was exhausted, so what can I say? I am happy to report that we are doing much better in the sleep department here in the Fickle Feline household. My email friend Julie (of Mabel's Labels) was kind enough to tip me off to the fact that many kids with ASD do not produce enough melatonin so they have problems sleeping and staying asleep. I checked with some other mom's of kids with ASD and low and behold, yes, this is something they all of them are either using or have tried.

It would seem that this was the very thing dear Max needed to help him to sleep. We are experimenting with the dose and trying to see what works best for him. The interesting thing is that he is now falling asleep much faster and staying asleep, so he is waking up MUCH earlier and in a better mood overall. We like that he is staying asleep, and we are adjusting to the earlier wake time. I am also trying to get Cam used to sleeping more in her crib so that I can get a better rest.

Max is starting IBI therapy this week, and will have his second session with this new speech therapist. We are also getting him started with a new occupational therapist, so he will be one busy little dude. I am really excited about these new therapists and I am looking forward to reporting more progress for the little dude.

Time For Sleep.

Time for sleep. Indeed. One of the challenges we are currently dealing with is that Max's sleeping is hit and miss. He typically sleeps through the night, but as I've mentioned previously, when his schedule is off (as it has been during the holidays) or he isn't feeling well, he tends to have a hard time going to sleep and staying asleep.

As he gets bigger and stronger, this poses more and more of a problem. He is now in a regular twin bed (with a padded headboard and safety rails on both sides, and a body pillow across the bottom). His room is very safe - the only furniture in it is his bed and a dresser (that he can't tip). He has a bead toy and a musical/light carousel toy, and his books to keep him entertained, but that is it. Once he is in his room, he is there to stay, and he is not able to open the door from the inside because of the child safety knob.

While we know he is safe, it is still very hard to deal with what I call "episodes" when they occur in the middle of the night. He basically starts shrieking at the top of his lungs, and alternates banging on the door with throwing his body into the door (makes a great big loud sound because the door is wood and hollow to boot). When we go in to check on him, he is fine - all smiles, in fact. It seems that all he wants is attention, and perhaps to party.

After consulting with a Behaviour Therapist about the situation, we learned that

a) we have to be consistent with how we respond
b) we are not to let him out of his room (assuming he is fine and not sick)
c) we are not to take him downstairs to watch TV

If we break any of the rules, we are basically starting the re-training all over again the next time he has an episode, because he has learned that his behaviour will get him what he wants (which is out of his room and downstairs). The kicker is that Max can stay up all night with no problem if we do let him out - which leaves all of us exhausted the next day. So, as much as it kills me to do it, I have to leave him in his room and let him "work it out". Some nights this behaviour lasts 20 minutes, other nights it lasts 2.5 hours. Last night was a 2.5 hour night, and at one point I thought I would literally go outside and lay down in the snow, because that would be somehow better than sitting listening to my son wail in misery. I did check on him once to make sure he was okay, I brought him some milk and showed him the "time to sleep" visual we use to communicate to him that he needs to got to sleep. Neither worked, but at least I tried.

Today I am spent, both emotionally and physically, and have said a few little prayers to the Goddess of Sleep that Max is able to make it through the night tonight without waking up the entire house. If you could put in a good word for us with whoever it is you believe in, I would truly appreciate it.

New Year's Resolution.

While I would definitely like to lose weight (about 30 pounds to be exact), and I would like to exercise more, eat better, drink more water, etc, none of these will be new year's resolutions. This year, my new year's resolution is to spend more time with my friends. With everything going on this past year (like say, having a baby and Max's Autism diagnosis), I have let some relationships slide. It's understandable, but it really is about time I make a concerted effort to get out with my friends and be social. I already have plans to go to my friend Alana's on the 3rd, and to have lunch with my friend Rhonda on the 9th, as well as plans to go to our friends Ellisa and James' birthday party. I have scheduled a call to Vera on February 1st to schedule coffee (she is in Thailand right now). I need to see my friend Christine in a big way, and there are a bunch of ladies in Burlington that I owe a visit to. I'm hoping my friend Jennifer will make it out this way too, because it is hard to leave Max right now for any length of time. And if I'm really lucky, I'll get to go to my college reunion in July and room with my friend Michelle. I also have a group of new friends I have made this past year. These are ladies I have met in the area who also have children with ASD and other serious health issues. They are incredible women that have reached out to me and supported me in a way that nobody else could. In a lot of ways it is easier to talk with them than friends I have known my whole life, because they know what to say, they know what not to say, and they can truly commiserate with me. They are their family's rocks, and they understand what it is to be a mother to a child who needs more. I guess I have Max to thank for knowing them. Sometimes blessings come in strange packages. So ladies, let's go out for coffee, lunch, dinner, a movie, a walk, a whatever. Let's have inappropriate conversations and gossip. This is one resolution I think I can keep.

Cameron Elizabeth: 8 months old.

My dearest baby Cameron,

You are 8 months old tomorrow! My gawd how time flies. I must apologize once again for not writing you a 7 month update - your mommy has had her hands full to say the least.
In the past 2 months you have been busy. You went from being a little wobbly baby who needed her boppy pillow to sit up, to a sturdy baby who not only can sit up on her own, but is on the move. You are still working on crawling, but I have a feeling you are only days away from figuring it out. You are working on your downward dog pose, and have mastered scooting backwards as a means of getting around. You are very pleased with yourself when you manage to get from one end of your blanket to another. But you aren't so pleased when you bonk your head on the floor (we try to keep this to a minimum, but sometimes you are too quick for us to catch).
Cameron, you are girl who is full of smiles (and you have two teeth to show off!). You and your brother laugh when mommy and daddy chant "ticka ticka ticka ticka tee-tee-tah, I've got a rhythm, gonna share it with yaaaaaaaaaaaaaah" from your favourite show "Four Square". You always smile back when we smile at you and you are quick to flirt with anyone new. On the flip side, when you are displeased or a "disgrunt-buggly", you are also quick to howl in frustration. You like to be held up high (the higher the better), so daddy is the preferred carrier when you are sad. The thing is, you are no longer the wee little baby we brought home from the hospital, you are getting big, so we get tired of carrying you after about 10 minutes. When we try to put you down, you seem to know the minute you get lowered even an inch, and you let us know this isn't okay.

This past month you caught the whopper of colds that single handedly brought our house to its knees. We can thank your brother for bringing home this lovely bug from daycare. He got sick first and then passed it to you, me, and daddy. You got a double ear infection and you were miserable. You also got a horrible cough and your eyes got goopy. Our hearts broke for you because there wasn't much we could do for you. You didn't want to eat your rice cereal - all you wanted was booby. Now that you are feeling better your appetite is better and we are trying to get you back to some semblance of a schedule.
Cameron, you are a little lady with a lot to say. I keep suggesting "mommy" to you as a potential first word, but right now you seem to be sticking to "ahhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhh". That's okay, but if you say "daddy" first I will be a little bitter. I mean, you pretty much only want to be held by me, and you squawk whenever I leave the room, so I figure I have earned it.
You are still sleeping with mommy and daddy at night. Most nights you want to party a bit longer, even when we are ready to go to sleep. You roll over and push yourself up (we call this the "groundhog" move). You reach out and tug at our noses and poke us to see if you can get us to play. We have to roll over and turn our backs to you to get you to fall asleep. You like to pull on my hair until you eventually conk out. Even though we are in a queen size bed, and you are tiny, you somehow manage to push us both to the edge. I have explained to you that it works better if we all sleep with our heads pointing to the top of the bed and our feet pointing to the bottom, but you think it is more cozy to lay your head on daddy and stick your feet into mommy (it kind of looks like an "H" when you do this). I have a feeling that you will be moving to your crib soon if this continues.
Cameron, you are the sweetest, smartest, cutest, sassiest baby that ever there was. Your dad and I remind ourselves every day how blessed we are to have you. We are having so much fun getting to know you as your personality blossoms. You are loved by everyone who meets you (and your brother is even coming around to the fact that you seem to be staying put).

Love,
Mommy

Swimming in Germy Soup.

The past two weeks have been challenging to say the least. We are all sick. All four of us. It started with Max, and then quickly spread to Scott, Cameron and myself. It is the kind of sick that makes you want to lay down and die. I mean, I don't really want to die, but I would maybe like to find a cold slab somewhere quiet, and if someone would tuck me in and close the drawer for a while so I could get some rest, I wouldn't even mind if they stuck one of those tags on my toe.

Kidding aside, when a kid with autism gets sick, it is about ten times worse than a normal kid. Max's only way to tell us he feels like a bag of ass, is to act out. And wow, is he ever good at that (hour long tantrums in the middle of the night, refusing to eat, etc). He is also showing a lot of progress, which is amazing - he is now taking us by the hand and demanding that we come with him so he can show us what he wants. This is huge, because it means that he is starting to realize that we can help meet his needs, and all he has to do is tell us what he wants. It is also really frustrating for Max as his parents don't always catch on right away. As Max is being pushed outside of his comfort zone more and more, he is also communicating to us that he is not thrilled with the new demands being put on him. He shows us this by acting out, and laying down the law the only way he can - by giving us a run for our money when it comes to eating, sleeping, and well, anything he can think of to get attention (mostly negative). According to our Behaviour Consultant, this is normal. It will take some time for Max to adjust and in the meantime, we just need to give him a lot of positive support, hugs, and let him know that his environment is secure. All this while we are sick as dogs. Oi.

I'm not feeling sorry for myself here, I am just praying we all get better in time for Christmas. The only thing I have managed to do this year is send out cards. I don't have any decorations up yet, haven't baked cookies, and still have some shopping left to do. With everything that is going on, I guess that is to be expected. We are so very blessed - I am reminded of this on a daily basis. This morning, as I left to take Max to daycare, I saw that our neighbour had shoveled our walkway for us. Our neighbour, who's husband had a heart attack last month and has a daughter with Down Syndrome, reached out to us and helped us, and brought tears to my eyes with her kindness. And for that, I am thankful.

Poker Queen.

In an effort to lighten things up around here, we had our friends Alana and Jay over to play some poker last night. Alana and Jay are very good poker players. Scott is also a very good poker player. I am a novice, at best, but I am at the very least, smart about when I fold (which is a lot). But you know who won the pot last night? You got it - little ol' ME. Woot! I was not a graceful winner at all. I probably would have danced on the table if I had thought of it. (Let's all be glad I kept my feet firmly planted on the ground.)

After a week that pretty much kicked my ass, it was great to just hang out, relax, surf funny videos on Youtube, have some beverages and be silly. Alana is a pun-master, and Jay, well Jay is just awesome. Laughing really is the best therapy. A solid night's sleep would be good too, but that might be pushing it.

Diagnosis For Max.

Finally. We finally have a diagnosis for Max. And as much as we knew our little boy is Autistic, it was still hard to hear. It was hard to call Scott at work and tell him. And I couldn't tell my father-in-law, I just told him I couldn't talk about it yet.

I am relieved, and numb, and happy about the services that Max can now get because we have an official diagnosis. I am pissed off at our doctor who I have been begging to help us for a year and a half. I am pissed off at myself for not forcing him to refer us to this pediatrician sooner. I am overwhelmed with the word "Autism". And I am saying "I" a lot, when really, it isn't about me, it is about Max, and what is best for him. And what he needs. Now that we know, we can get him more focused therapy. We can get training in IBI therapy. There is no more putting my hands over my ears and chanting "I can't hear you" when people say the "A" word. We have to tackle this problem head on. Shit, I'm good at that. In fact, I am GREAT at that. Autism watch out, I'm about to kick yo ass.

This beautiful boy will not fall prey to you, Autism. No way, no how. We will pull him from your clutches and beat the crap out of you. Hands off our son, you wicked beast. Here comes Momma, and you ain't never seen a Momma Bear like me. So, watch out, I'm coming to get you. Consider yourself warned.

Busy...and a bit overwhelmed.

Things have been a bit nuts here over the past three weeks. With Max in therapy three afternoons a week, I'm spending the majority of my days to-ing and fro-ing with him. Not that I mind, it just doesn't leave a lot of time to get things done around the house, or, shower.

Max is showing some real progress at CIP. We are seeing a lot more appropriate play, interaction with other children (like, taking their toys away from them), and a lot more requesting at home. He even said the words "apple", "apple sauce" and "hide and seek" this past week. Along with the progress comes a lot of acting out. From what the Behaviour Consultant at the program tells us, this is normal. He is being forced outside his comfort zone, so with that comes more tantrums, problems sleeping, and a harder time in transitions.


One of the things I am most surprised about is how hard watching the therapy sessions is. By the end of the week, I am emotionally spent. Since I am a mere observer, I get to see Max's wins, Max's challenges, and his moments of being completely overwhelmed. But I can't come over and give him a hug, I just have to watch and deal with it. Some days I have to leave the observation room for a little while to regroup and collect myself. The other parents don't seem to be facing the same challenges as me - I guess I'm just a softy. But I wouldn't have it any other way.