Get Out of Today

    Get your head out of today.  Stop dwelling on it.  Stop obsessing over it.  Just stop. Today is hard.  Today is rough.  Today the kids are small and needy and you get so, so tired.  Today the money is tight and the bills keep coming in.  Today you're single and lonely and  there doesn't seem to be anyone on the horizon for you.  Today work is hard and demanding and the boss just won't let up.   Today there's not enough time to clean the house or organize the stuff.  Today, you fought with him or her and you just don't see how you can make this work.  Today you have insomnia and can't sleep.  Today you're sick and in pain and there doesn't seem to be anything anyone can do for you.  Today you're sad and you don't understand why and no one seems to understand.  All this bad stuff is happening today.  You obsess over it and dwell on it and you don't understand why God isn't answering your prayers.  

     So, stop thinking about today.  Instead, think about tomorrow.  Or next week.  Or next year.  Even 5 or 10 years.  To a time when the kids aren't so small and needy and you'll have some breathing room.  When money won't be quite so tight.  When you find that other, that PERSON that makes everything okay again.  Think about a time when you're "arrived" at work and the boss stops nagging.  When there's finally, YES!  enough time to clean and organize all the stuff.  When you don't have insomnia and sleep comes all night every night.  To a time when the sickness is cured and your pain is gone.  When your sadness is gone.  To a time when everything will be alright with the world.  Okay, so maybe not perfect, but at least your problems will be different!  And different is good!  You know it will happen.  Because life didn't used to be this hard.  At least not hard like this.  And don't forget all those promises!  

     What promises?  The ones from God.  You know the ones I'm talking about.  The ones that someone always wants to quote in a singsong voice every time you complain.  Like 1 Corinthians 10:13 ...And God is faithful;  he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.  Okay, so he trusts you.  A LOT!  And you've born much.  But you haven't fallen yet, right?  And that slip, that was okay because he understands how hard this is.  You're still there.  Still traveling that narrow path that he chose for you.  Still believing.  Still trusting.  You might be on your knees by now.  Even crawling.  But you're still moving.  Still praying.  Still waiting.  Waiting.  That other promise.  Isaiah 40:31  Those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength;  They will mount with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.  Yes, my friend, this is the waiting.  This hard life.  This exhausting journey.  He never said we'd wait idly.  And the word 'idle' is not part of this life.  Not for us.  

     It won't always be like this.  This hard.  This tough.  This is the waiting.  This is the endurance part of that race.  But it has to be done.  And we are the ones who have to do it.  Why us?  I don't know.  But I do know that a hard life isn't necessarily an unhappy life.  Not if I don't make it so.  Not if I can get up every morning and count the blessings.  I have them and so do you.  Think about it.  It's that significant other who never complains.  That friend who's always there for you.  That unexpected promotion at work.  That bonus money that came at just the right time.  That stranger who bought you coffee.  That song that you love that came on the radio just when you were struggling.  It's all there.  He's RIGHT THERE.  

     But get your head out of today.  Get it into tomorrow.  Look forward to His blessings.  Count on His generosity.  KNOW it will happen for you.  Put your hope in tomorrow.  Today is hard, but it won't always be this hard.  Not for me.  And not for you either.  He promised us.

The Christmas Bells

     Many moms with autistic children consider themselves "Warrior Autism Moms."  I can certainly understand why.  As a mom with a child on the spectrum we battle doctors, teachers and the school system.  On top of the war that happens outside our home, there's a very real war that happens inside it. I battle my son daily.  From the time he wakes up and resists getting dressed.  The battle is on.  My weapons are time outs, rewards and removal of favored objects.  His weapons are meltdowns and simple noncompliance.  His weapons are surprisingly effective.  Mine HAVE to be better.  I simply cannot afford to lose.

     But I don't consider myself a Warrior Autism Mom because I don't WANT to fight my son.  I'm the soldier on the battlefield who's actually a pacifist in my own mind.  Forced to fight in a war that's not of my choosing.  Against an enemy I can't see and don't understand.  Forced to do battle against a child that has all my heart and soul.  I can't really describe how it feels.  To love a child THIS much and yet still feel like he's lost if I don't do battle.  If I don't win then I haven't lost.  He has.  So I'm a Reluctant Warrior Mom.

     Most children with autism have an issue with impulse control.  They simply cannot control impulses like closing doors and turning off light switches.  It's not that they are being defiant when you tell them not to turn off the light.  They simply can't resist the impulse.  Telling them no is a lot like spitting in the wind.  It's very frustrating as a parent.  There's also the very real question:  Is it defiance or autism?  My son can absolutely be defiant.  It's part of who he is.  So, it's up to me to wonder whether or not he CAN control himself and simply doesn't want to or is it yet another impulse control issue?

     This issue arose recently with the Christmas Bells.  My mother-in-law gave us some little bells that play music.  They're very old so we put them up high, but my son can still reach them.  He loves to turn them on.  The problem is that they're very loud.  And with a television running and iPads playing it's simply too much noise.  So I finally told him that if he turned them on one more time without permission then we had to put them away.  You can imagine what happened.  I knew when I said that what would happen.  And yes, the Christmas Bells were put away.  But it had to be done.

     See, it's my philosophy that if I don't challenge my son he'll never be able to control himself.  If I don't give him a reason to develop self control then he'll never have it.  He's blatantly not interested in developing it on his own.  But society frowns on children who insist on turning on and off light switches in public places or removing all the ornaments on the christmas tree in the doctor's office.  So I have to help him develop the control he needs to function adequately.  Many moms frown on this because they believe I'm punishing him for something he can't control.  And they're partly right.  But I consider it a part of the battle.  I encourage him.  I challenge him.  I want him to do better.  I'm unwilling to accept that this is all he'll ever be.  So I give him a tool:  resist the impulse and keep the bells.

      He failed this year, but he won't always fail.  He'll learn to control himself.  He'll learn to resist the impulses.  He's a very smart child, and I know he can do more.  I have very high expectations.  He's my son and I love him dearly, but I would be remiss to allow him to be less than what he's fully capable of. It's why I fight.  It's why I do battle every stinking day and hate every minute of it.  I'm doing what I have to do.  A pacifist in the war of my life.  The Reluctant Warrior Autism Mom.  That's me.

Autistic at Christmas

     I imagine most of you understand that families with autistic children have unique challenges.  You may even have some comprehension what Christmas may be like for those of us with kids on the spectrum.  But right now, I'd like to give you a glimpse inside our living room.  Come on, take a peek in the front window.  It's big enough for all of you, just gather round...

     First you see the stereotypical Christmas Tree, right there up front.  Shining bright with a star on top, probably very similar to your house.  What you may not realize is that all the ornaments on this tree are plastic, instead of the usual glass.  Shatterproof, they call it.  I call it a blessing, because children with autism can't always control the impulse to remove ornaments from the tree.  In fact, until this year our tree was always bare from the waist down.  Yep, we had a naked tree every year.  I'd occasionally put the ornaments back on, only to have them removed by the end of the day.  Among all the battles I'm willing to fight, ornaments on the tree wasn't one.


     You'll also probably notice something else as well.  There are no brightly wrapped packages under this tree.  You'll guess by now that our kids can't control the impulse to tear into them a little early and you'd be right on target.  Santa brought ALL of our children's gift when he came Christmas Eve.  Santa knows all about my kids, and he just brings them a couple extra gifts when he shows.  This year we're trying something different.  There's actually a couple of packages under the tree a little early.  For most children, these packages would cause feelings of joyous anticipation.  Not mine.  For us, these packages cause impatience and anxiety.  Every night we remind Daniel that tonight's not the night for Santa yet, but every morning brings bitter disappointment.  We keep trying, but the jury is still out whether or not the packages will stay.

     By now, you may be noticing something else.  There's not a lot of decorations besides the tree.  Daddy's coveted Christmas Drummers have a spot high in the windowsill, where the children cannot reach them easily, and the singing Mr. and Mrs. Snowman and the dog that barks christmas carols are scattered on the floor, but other than that there's nothing else.  Breakables are not allowed in our house, so many decorations that are able to be broken are put away.  Daddy's green christmas flutes, crystal knick knacks and Santa's voyage collection from Lenox are all put away.  We anticipate bringing them out one day when the kids are older, but right now they're too much temptation.  We even tried a train one year, but they couldn't leave it on the tracks, or leave the tracks on the floor.  Well, I think you understand.

     I'd love to take them to see Santa Claus at the mall, but the lines are almost always too long for us.  They don't wait well, and waiting is almost always part of the experience.  Shopping is difficult as well.  Because my boys are delayed, buying gifts for them is difficult at best.  What would normally be age appropriate is not always the best option for them.  Pretend play is limited and anything in a container gets dumped on the floor.

     Sometimes it's incredibly disappointing for my husband and I.  We want so badly for our children to know the joy and blessings that Christmas brings.  To share the Christmas traditions from our childhood.  It requires strength to leave those traditions behind, and do what you know is best for children who don't understand.  But my hope remains undaunted, and my expectations are still high.

I hope you enjoyed your glimpse in our window.  It's always welcome for those with an open mind and an open heart.  I hope you learned something new.  And I hope each and every one of you have the most blessed Christmas you've ever experienced.

Shepherds and Wise Men

I remember even at an early age feeling like an outcast.  Like someone who didn't quite belong.  In elementary school all my friends were extremely smart.  Like, all A's smart.  Honor roll every semester smart.  Me, I was the average one.  You know, the less-smart friend.  No honor roll here.  All A's only in my dreams.  So, even among my friends I was an outcast.  This feeling persisted through junior high  and high school.  By college I was comfortable with the idea and with myself.  It is still this big, huge, heavy weight for me.  I recently joined a christian, mother's group and have had to struggle with persisting through my feelings until I became more comfortable.  Still working on that, by the way.

     I guess that's why this sudden realization was so comforting for me.  I was reading my devotional when it occurred to me.  It's no surprise that the devotional was about the Christmas Story and the fear that was upon the shepherds when they were visited by the angel.  The sudden thought that how odd it was that God chose shepherds to receive the news of heaven's newest addition.  I thought, shepherds?  Really?  And "wise men?"  Why?  Have you ever wondered why God chose those two groups?  They have absolutely nothing in common.

     The first thing that I understood was that care had to be taken.  If Herod had learned of the birth of the Christ child he would have killed him.  He even tried to do just that.  So, your common, ordinary everyday person couldn't be told.  They would shout it from the rooftops, load up their donkeys and desert the cities to find him.  And that would alert Herod.

     But the Son of God couldn't enter the world with no one to herald him, right?!  Heck, he's the Living God!!!  Somebody has to celebrate!  So, shepherds were chosen.  Yep.  Spending 24 hours a day every day with sheep.  These were simple people.  Salt of the Earth, as it were.  Not religious.  Not educated. Working class.  They were chosen as the first people to EVER worship the Son.  Loners.  Second sons.   Outcasts.  But they weren't the only ones.

     Wise men were also chosen.  Men "from the east."    They had no other business in Bethlehem.  They came, paid homage, and left.  Outcasts.  Foreigners.  Strangers in a strange land.  The gifts, consequently, helped the family flee to Egypt.  But what's the point?

     God chooses outcasts and loners.  He does it all the time.  If you think God can't use you because you don't "fit in" you're wrong.  He can.  He chose the shepherds.  He chose the wise men.  He chose the woman at the well.  He chose Mary Magdalene.  He chooses the loner and the outcast.  He does it ALL THE TIME.  He chose me.  He can choose you as well, but you have to answer the call.  You have to let someone in sometime.  Might as well be Him.  There's no better one to trust.

     There's no better place to lay your heart than at His feet.


Becky Thomas

Autism and The Tooth Fairy

     There are always fun traditions you enjoyed as a child that you are eager to share with your children.  Like waiting for Santa at Christmas.  Or greeting Easter morning with a basket full of goodies.  These wonderful traditions are more complicated when you have a child with autism.

     Last night, we finally pulled a loose tooth for Daniel.  We've been explaining the tooth fairy to him for the last couple of days.  Instead of being excited about losing his tooth and exchanging it for money, Daniel was dismayed.  He's lost his bottom teeth and each time was sad.  He seemed to believe he was losing pieces of himself that he couldn't get back.  Each time we explained that old teeth had to go, so new teeth could grow.  It didn't seem to matter.  

     When the tooth fairy came last night and Daniel woke up to money instead of a tooth, he asked for his tooth back.  When I told him he had to give up the money, he didn't really want to do that either.  He wanted both.  I explained he couldn't have both.  After thinking on it for awhile:  money for toys or candy vs an old, broken tooth?  Daniel chose the old, broken tooth.  He couldn't stand the thought that something that was his was out there somewhere, and he didn't know where.

     At first I felt like the joy of a longtime childhood tradition was gone.  Taken away by the autism that is such a factor in Daniel's life.  Then I realized that, like other things, the Thomas' would have to do things a little differently.  We can make allowances.  We can adjust.  Autism doesn't have to win every battle.

     Tonight I think the Tooth Fairy will come again to the Thomas house.  He will be generous enough to leave the tooth and the money.  Perhaps in a special container that Daniel can use for the future.  Life lessons about giving up something in exchange for something else can wait.  After all, the true joy of a childhood tradition is really the JOY.