When Family Shows Up

This last month has been filled with some really amazing highs and some incredible lows. Such is life, I suppose, but when you’re trying to wade through the tumultuousness of a nationwide pandemic–while raising a child with Autism in the midst of it–the highs just don’t ring as high and the lows leave a more somber, stifling effect. That’s when it’s so absolutely invaluable when family shows up.

I knew celebrating Max’s 1st birthday was not going to be as grand as I always envisioned it to be thanks to COVID, but I was still going to find a way to create memories with him to help document this milestone birthday. I was also struggling a bit with the fact that we were going to have to celebrate it in our temporary house since our beautiful home was in the midst of a lengthy journey of restoration from a summer water damage disaster which upended our lives in more ways than one, especially Nico’s.

And if that wasn’t enough, we were also still reeling from the recent loss of my husband’s grandma/the boys’ sweet Abuelita so we were now prepared for Max’s birthday to be filled with bittersweet emotions. Needless to say, the lows were definitely outpacing the highs. Max’s 1st Birthday had to be the high of all highs so October could avoid being another month to succumb to a case of the “2020s.”

As a result of us being out of our own home for over four months now, Nico has had to adjust to so many new environments and that is such a huge feat for him. Plus, he has really struggled in this new virtual first grade school year as he has traversed through remote learning. There is no sugar coating that. It has been less than ideal and there have been days where I have just cried at the lack of progress I feel he is making because he is not having a typical school year like he did last year. After having such a tremendously successful Kinder year in an inclusion classroom (up until March) we were so hopeful for what elementary school would be like for him. But, COVID has robbed so much from Nico and I have no idea what to expect anymore.

I miss the social interactions Nico had with his classmates. He is already limited to who he actually interacts with typically due to his social-emotional challenges and lack of communication so going to basically zero social interactions with kids his own age (outside of the few children he interacts with at his therapy center) really makes me nervous. His classmates this year truly can’t get to know who Nico is and how engaging he can be. They only get glimpses of him through a sterile Zoom meeting environment. And, since most of those interactions show him stimming, scripting, or having a parent assist him with answering, his classmates are only seeing ONE side of Nico. This has now lead to the curious looks and the lack of “Hi, Nico” from his classmates while other kids in his class exchange pleasantries each morning with each other.

I know Nico may not notice or be aware of it (thankfully), but it resonates loudly and clearly with me and breaks my heart a little more each day. I can’t help but feel like the lows have been taking the lead in our home. However, I try to keep things upbeat in our house with lots of song and dance and hugs and kisses. There is never a lack of affection and although many people believe that children and adults with Autism do not like to be touched and do not display affection or empathy, this is a huge myth! My Nico is extremely loving and affectionate.

So, when our family showed up for Max’s birthday week it lifted our spirits and transformed our house into one of celebration and positivity on almost an existential level!

Our family drove countless hours, despite going through their own journey of grief, to make sure we could ring in Max’s 1st Birthday with a bit more pomp and circumstance like we’re used to when it comes to milestone birthdays. They know how important family is to us, especially Nico, and they showed up! It was probably the best decision for all of us because laughter and joy through tears makes everything so much better.

In those two weeks they were here with us, there was more normalcy in our lives. Nico had friends to exchange morning greetings with because his cousins are his best friends and include him in all they do. They never look at him strangely or exclude him from anything because they don’t understand him. Nor do they assume that because he doesn’t know how to initiate playful interactions with them that he doesn’t want to play with them. His cousins have always found ways to make my son feel included because they learn what Nico values and enjoys and engage him around those things. They go beyond just saying “Hi, Nico” which is what I was settling for just so that he had some sense of social interaction with others.

Inclusion like this is what I miss so much about Nico’s experiences last year in school. And, I know it is what fuels growth in all those with Autism. Nico experienced such progress and had so many positive moments because of the inclusivity that was cultivated in his classroom last year. It was nice to have some of that same inclusivity for Nico in our own home for awhile.

Having family with us made virtual learning feel a bit less tedious, our temporary home feel a bit more like our own home, and gave Nico the boost he needed to get him through a month that had us all craving some good ol’ TLC.

And, as October came to a close and Día de Los Muertos was upon us–that special day of the year where we welcome back the spirits of our lost loved ones into our home–I decided to finally take the time to display an altar. This altar would honor our family and friends who we had lost over the years. I would commit to doing it every year and then something always kept me from bringing it to fruition.

But, this year I needed to do it for my own spiritual healing. I needed to do it for my own emotional well-being too. I also felt my Nico needed a bit more family enveloping him with as much love as possible this year; this year has been a doozy for us.

It was the best way to keep family around us right now when we need them the most. With the holidays approaching, its hard to think about having to socially distance from those we need, especially when COVID is spiking again, flu season is upon us, and Election Day is just around the corner (and all that that day could incite).

Family, for me, has always been my top priority and I have a husband who mirrors those same values. And, when raising a child with special needs, you really do need family to lean on because it is HARD. To manage the pitfalls of life while staying controlled for a child who could meltdown at any moment when all you want to do is meltdown yourself…that’s HARD. This is when family shows up and takes on the meltdown, your child’s or yours, and it is life-(saving)changing.

You can be vulnerable with family and know that just like they are there on the best days, they are also there on your worst. We, special needs parents, must take care of ourselves because there are not many others who can care for our children. These are tough times and it is easy to become worn out and we don’t have the luxury of getting sick because no one can take care of our children better than we can….except maybe our family.

Make time for family right now. Especially now.

All I know is that you make time for the people that matter in your life. Despite everything, you show up. Family does this. And, I have to trust and believe that they keep showing up even if it is only in the stillness of our hearts or with a passing flutter of a butterfly’s wing. With every memory they evoke in us, family is forever.

Preparing for Battle

I read an article awhile back that chronicled a research study regarding Autism moms and their levels of stress. The study found that Autism moms experience chronic stress that is comparable to that of combat soldiers, as well as frequent fatigue and work disruptions. When I read that I was stopped dead in my tracks because it could not have been more true for my circumstances at that time. Nico was almost 3 years old at the time and we had only been living with his diagnosis for little under a year. My husband and I were at our wits end with his constant meltdowns. We couldn’t leave our house with him without fear that he would break down at a moment’s notice no matter where we were–the mall, a family party, the grocery store–so we basically imprisoned ourselves at home.

I didn’t want to believe that this could be true considering how vastly different an actual combat-like environment was from my life, but yet here it was…this legit research study comparing my life raising a child with Autism to that of a soldier’s in combat. It does sound a bit melodramatic, I know, but I promise you the research backed it up.

In a way, I felt oddly validated. My stress levels are typically off the charts. The amazing thing is we, Autism parents, learn to manage our levels of stress quite well. We learn to live with it. We compartmentalize it and only show it in the privacy of our own home when no one is looking.

I had a friend ask me one day—and she was genuinely curious and just desperately trying to understand—what it was like to be “in my shoes.” So I took her through a “day in the life of being Nico’s mom.” By the end, I wasn’t sure if she was going to burst out crying or laughing because I beat her to the punch with both of those emotions. Just talking about all the things that go into making sure that my sweet boy can have a successful, peaceful, predictable, progressive day tires me out and blows my mind simultaneously because I just cannot believe that I actually have to do all of that for just one child.

So, when I saw this article resurface in a fellow Autism Mom’s blog this week I could not help, but reflect on how true it still is for me today. Case in point, I am a wreck currently. We have just lost the matriarch of my husband’s family. Our dear, sweet Abuelita. Nico’s great-grandmother. And, we have to travel to Chicago from Texas for the funeral. Ok…now this wouldn’t be fun for any parent who had to travel with a soon-to-be 1 year old and 7 year old in the middle of a pandemic when you’re emotionally raw over the loss of a loved one, but now add on the fact that this 7 year old has Autism, limited communication skills, loves reading books on his iPad via YouTube Kids, and ONLY eats goldfish crackers and V8 Fusion Peach Mango juice. Why do the last things even matter? Oh, you’ll see.

Ok, and now just think about all the crap that you have to lug with you when you have a baby in tow—stroller, car seat, pack and play, baby monitor, noisemaker, diaper bag filled to the brim with diapers, wipes, bottles of formula, baby food, toys, change of clothes—and I haven’t even added in the suitcases, garment bag and carry-ons and a box fan—yes, I literally said box fan—because we cannot sleep without the constant hum of a fan. Now, obviously we won’t bring the fan on the plane with us, but the point is…who do you think created this never-ending list of items that had to be packed and then made sure all listed items made it into the car? The physical lifting honors do go to my hubby!

Are you exhausted yet?

It is Nico though who has always been the trickiest to travel with because he requires so much. Not only do we have to make sure we bring his main sources of nourishment wherever we go because he will not eat ANYTHING ELSE, but these items require a serious amount of time spent on them. We have to make sure that we execute a succinct plan to get Nico’s juice through security checkpoints since we have yet to find an airport that sells this specific juice. We have to time it just right so that he doesn’t drink his last juice serving too early because then we won’t have enough for when we get to the airport and through security. But, we can’t bring too much juice through security because they may not let us bring it all.

Then there is the whole issue with what will keep Nico occupied in the airport and on the plane. We have to make sure he has both iPads fully charged. I have to have movies downloaded for offline use just in case there is no Wi-Fi or the Wi-Fi is lagging and he can’t watch YouTube Kids. However, Nico has to “be in the mood” to watch a movie. If he isn’t in the mood and we don’t have WiFi on the plane or in the airport then we run the serious risk of a meltdown which could last for minutes or hours. I have to pack his books and little knickknacks just in case he actually wants to play with them on the plane, but I never know because he won’t tell me to pack anything and, frankly, he hates the idea of me taking any of his books or toys from the house so I have to secretly pack everything up in his bag without him seeing me which can be tough since he basically follows me everywhere I go in our home.

And, to ensure that he can hopefully fall asleep, I have to lather him up with lotion that is mixed with a special essential oil blend that helps keep him relaxed and can put him to sleep, BUT I can’t put it on too early because if I do he may fall asleep before we get on the plane and then we’re screwed because if Nico catches even just a wee bit of shut-eye and then is woken up abruptly he will not fall back asleep no matter how soaked he is in essential oils and lotion. Which, in turn, makes a 2.5 hour plane ride feel like an eternity for me because I don’t know what Nico will be capable of if he gets restless with nowhere to go and nothing to do or watch (if the WiFi is slow or nonexistent).

I’m sure, if you are not already hyperventilating or sweating profusely after reading all this, you can probably start to better understand why Autism parents, especially moms because let’s face it….we just take on a lot more, have insanely high stress levels, frequent fatigue, and are one step away from being issued honorary military status.

Like, right now…it’s 11:30pm and I am laying in a hotel room next to the Austin airport. I couldn’t fathom getting my boys up any earlier tomorrow morning to drive from our home an hour south for the 9am departure so that I had the best chance of getting them both to fall asleep on the plane for at least half of the duration of the flight.

You see how it’s a constant merry-go-round of Plans A-Z, and escape routes, and mental jigsaw puzzles to ensure that Nico does not face anymore challenges than he already does. Now some may say, this is just too much. Nico will have to learn and adjust. I always empathize with people when they say that to me because they just don’t understand and they don’t have to, which is totally ok. I’m thankful that they don’t. This is hard. I love my child so much it can’t even be put into words, but living with his Autism is sometimes more than I can bear.

And until you walk in an Autism mom’s shoes, you may not truly believe that our stress is comparable to that of combat soldiers’ levels. But, I promised myself that when I started sharing my journey as an Autism mom that I would share all sides. The good, the not-so-good, and the downright exhausting.

I truly don’t know how tomorrow will go when we wake up at 6am to get ready for our flight. This will be the first time we fly with our baby boy, Maximo and that is adding a whole other level of stress for me. Nico, ironically, is the one I am less worried about, but I am still fully prepared mentally, emotionally, and physically to have to manage a difficult day tomorrow because of Nico.

That’s what it’s like being an Autism parent. Preparing for the worst-case scenario, praying for the best-case scenario, and hoping it falls somewhere in the middle so you can say it was a successful day.

I’m lucky though, I have a true partner-in-combat and that’s my husband. He is there to help with the heavy lifting, literally and figuratively. So, no matter what, I know I share the battlefield with someone who will always have my back.

And, if all goes to hell early, a mimosa makes everything better! Thank goodness for airport bars! Chicago and fam, here we come…say a prayer.

In His Way

I always wondered what it was going to be like when I had to explain death to Nico and if he would be able to connect to what I was telling him. Most often than not, Nico lives in his own world with his own thoughts and his own unique perspectives. I have learned to live parallel with him, but I never lose hope that he will reach out and pull me into his world so I can feel a bit more connected to him in an authentic way.

He knew something was wrong when he saw us crying and he knew it wasn’t ok when it came from both his mom and his dad. However, Nico did not show sympathy or concern in the way a neurotypical child might. Instead, he sat on the couch and started to script just a bit louder and more erratically at times. That’s how I knew he was aware there was a problem and it was not good.

Nico has always been in tune with his father’s and my emotions, especially mine. He can pick up on changes in tone of voice or nonverbal cues and will immediately start to overcompensate in his behaviors if he thinks it will help make a situation better. It never ceases to amaze me how Nico can be so aloof to so much when he is being practically spoon-fed the information; yet, be so in tune with things that are almost meant to be invisible.

This is the allure of Autism. I tell ya…

I knew I had to talk to him because my husband and I were pretty emotional and it was going to be a very long evening of constant calls with endless amounts of tears. So, I sat down next to him and I pulled up a picture of his “Abuelita” and I asked him who the woman was in the picture. Of course, I got no response. This is typical whenever I try to have a straightforward conversation with Nico.

I asked him again and this time he answered with an echolalic response (repeated my question verbatim), “Who is this?” so I knew this was not going to be an easy conversation. When Nico interacts with me in this manner it is not only disheartening, but also frustrating because it leads me to believe that he cannot comprehend anything I am saying to him. And it’s crazy for me to think this way because my kid is wicked smart, has a photographic memory, and can literally read anything you put in front of him!

So, how can he not answer a simple “who” question?

I felt myself starting to tear up and I knew I had to stay calm so I simply told him that the woman in the picture with him was his Abuelita and that’s when he repeated “Abuelita” to me. I acknowledged him and said “Yes! That’s her and she loved you very much.”

Nico knows what love is, but I try to show him how it looks and feels in all sorts of ways. So, I hugged him tight and said, “Abuelita loved hugging you and always wanted to give you a big hug when she saw you.”

He allowed the hug, but I knew he was missing the connection. All he did was turn back to his iPad and continue to zone in on the new book he discovered on YouTube this past weekend.

Man, this was tough. I wanted to shake him and just say, “Your Abuelita is gone and she loved you so much and we are all sad! You should be sad too! You need to know these things Nico so you can share in this grief with us!”

I felt so mad at that moment that Nico had Autism. I felt like his Autism was stealing away his ability to mourn with his father and me properly and all I wanted in that moment was for my son to feel grief and share in our grief. I wanted to just get up and walk away from him, but I knew that would not be fair to Nico.

Nico had the right to know his Great-Grandmother died. He had the right to know that when someone whom we love passes away it makes us very sad. And, I also wanted him to know that his Abuelita was now in Heaven with his Abuelito and he had one more angel looking over him. I pointed up to the ceiling and explained that she now lived above us and would always watch over us and keep us safe. He looked at me and then looked up at the ceiling and said “angel.”

He then looked me straight in my eyes, wiped my tears and said, “It’s ok. It’s ok.” And that was it.

He went back to his iPad and for the rest of the evening he lived parallel to us as we continued to grieve and process the news of our loved one’s passing. My husband and I didn’t press him for more of a response to the news nor did we change up anything about his evening routine.

Whether or not Nico has fully grasped the gravity of this family hardship or understands what it truly means to lose someone is left to be seen. I guess we will soon find out over these next few days and weeks.

But, I know that he is processing it in his own way.

It may not be the way I want him to experience it or process it which makes me feel a bit bitter, but I think that that’s just my rage against Autism presenting itself. All I know is that I want Nico to know and feel how much his Abuelita loved him because if he did, grief might not be such a foreign emotion for him.

I know Nico has deep compassion and empathy for others; I see glimpses of it every time he cups my face gently when sensing my anxiousness or when he brings me back to a place of hope with a short, but perfectly pronounced, “give me a hug.” I just hope that this journey we’re about to go on as a family opens him up to us a bit more because we are certainly going to need it, especially his father.

I’m going to give Nico the benefit of the doubt because I have seen him do tremendous things under challenging circumstances before. For Nico, it’s always been on his own time. Showing up for his family in their most dire time of need is something I know my sweet boy will most certainly do…we just may have to embrace that it will be in his own way. But, that’s what will make it infinitely more special and memorable for all of us.

Rest In Peace, Abuelita. We love you so much. Until we meet again….❤️

Music Can Move Mountains

2020 has truly thrown me some curve balls and the year isn’t even over yet. I feel like once the summer came the days blurred together and I haven’t been able to catch my breath or tell one day from the next. I’m sure I’m not alone. This year seems like it will go down in infamy as the most treacherous year for all people, places, things, and animals…yep, basically every noun you can think of.

And speaking of nouns, I can’t believe we are into our fourth week of Nico’s school year and we’re all still in one piece. Nico is now a first grader and is also a 100% remote learner due to this God-awful pandemic we are living through. This is not the ideal setting for him and all summer long I was a ball of nerves thinking about how hard this was going to be for him and me. He hates talking to anyone on FaceTime so I couldn’t even imagine how he would manage working with his teachers on the daily through a computer screen. The only thing he looks forward to and understands clearly is the “Leave Meeting” button so you can see what a joy it is to work through five live Zoom lessons with him a day when he is just not into interacting with others virtually.

And if that wasn’t enough to keep me up at night, our first floor flooded, due to a water pipe bursting in our home, when we were hundreds of miles away visiting family so we ushered in Nico’s first day of the virtual school year from a hotel room and have since moved into a temporary home while ours begins the looooooong process of being rebuilt. Needless to say, Nico has been less than pleased with all of these changes and who can blame him? I’m barely hanging on myself.

I don’t think either of us has been in the best of moods for weeks. I can always tell with Nico because he gets over-emotional and weepy at the drop of a hat and will cry off and on all day. Or, he can get really frustrated and just want to throw things or become a bit aggressive with me. I feel like even I have been a roller coaster of emotions as I come to terms with being displaced from my home for several months in the middle of a pandemic during an unprecedented school year with a special needs child and 10 month old who would literally crawl back inside me if I let him.

I have been working tirelessly to stay optimistic and upbeat, but it has been extremely trying for me and I know Nico can sense my dismay and distress. Individuals with Autism are actually quite empathetic and feel emotions very deeply and Nico always knows when I am struggling or stressed or sad. And because he has picked up on my stress and discontent, I have noticed that he is struggling more.

Now, music has always been an incredible outlet for me to relieve my stress. I would often play my favorite songs on repeat growing up to help me regain my composure or release my stress and anxiety. Singing is also a favorite pastime of mine so, whenever I can, I will sing to help elevate my mood. Nico has always enjoyed music as well. From a very young age, he came alive with music. He loved when I would sing to him; it would actually help regulate him when he was getting over-stimulated so I would try and incorporate song into many of our daily activities.

As he has grown, he has become more selective with the music that keeps his attention and lightens his mood. He won’t let me sing the same songs I would sing to him when he was small anymore so I have to constantly find new ones to introduce him to. And, he has quite the eclectic musical palette too, which is kind of cool because he chooses music based on movies he loves or songs he hears that make him want to dance. He will then request these songs by telling me the name of the movie or by choosing a word or phrase from the song and repeating it over and over until I pick up on what he is saying.

He is quite my little problem-solver. He knows he has limited language so he always chooses his words strategically.

Well, today we started our fourth week of virtual learning and it was a marvelous Monday as we got in the car to head to the center, although I know neither of us was feeling quite marvelous. It’s just so hard to shake off a funk once you’re in it. But, as I drove Nico to his therapy center where he gets both his therapy and support with his virtual school day, I felt we needed something to boost our spirits so I put on the radio.

That’s when something really cool…and maybe even serendipitous happened! My car’s Bluetooth connected to my phone and the first song to play was a track from the movie, The Peanuts Movie which is a fave of Nico’s. And the song could not have had a better message for both Nico and me! It was a song by Meghan Trainor titled, “Good to Be Alive” and it always gets Nico moving and smiling. He must’ve really been needing to hear this song too because he was actually singing along with some of the lyrics. I could hardly contain my excitement when I heard him! My son, who uses very little language unless to request something or if prompted, was singing along to a song!

This was enough to catapult me out of my current funk for sure! But then, as musical fate would have it, my own anthem literally came on next without any prompting from me. Neither of these songs are in a playlist together nor did I intentionally connect my Bluetooth to play this specific song, but now we were listening to a song that I had to believe was sending me a message as well. It’s a song by Jess Glynne titled, “Hold My Hand” and it’s one I listened to nonstop the year it came out. The year was 2015 and it was the same year Nico was diagnosed with Autism. I remember playing this song over and over again and feeling so alone because I needed my Mother more than anything to just be there to “hold my hand.”

Well, here it was again, saving the day and lifting my spirits. I felt like there was almost a little bit of divine intervention happening in the car this morning as the song played, but what made it absolutely outstanding was to look in my rear view mirror and see Nico bopping his head and moving his hands to the beat so succinctly. I couldn’t help, but belt it out for him and then play it again before we got to the center so we could have just a bit more musical magic help bring us back to life.

This year has not been the best for us. It started in March with COVID and slowly inched it’s way to awful with my furlough in April and then became downright abysmal by July with our house flooding so I am just thankful we are standing upright in Week 4 of the school year. And because this year has sucked the life out of me, there were no First Day of School pics taken, no official posts to ring in this school year. I am behind on doctors’ appointments and first day of school haircuts. And, I have little over a month to put something resembling a 1st birthday party together for my precious Maximo while still keeping it COVID-friendly (talk about a contradiction in terms), but I’m giving myself a pass on having it all together this year. After all, my motto this year has been: “Welcome to the Sh$& Show! Compliments of 2020!” But, after having such an uplifting start to the day today, I feel like hopefully things will start looking up for us.

So, today was the START of our NEW school year! It may still be a bumpy one. Nico may struggle and resist, and regression may still occur to some degree, but my sweet boy will always have his music and our car rides to the center where we can “center” ourselves around the music that has become our mantra. Words are so important for both Nico and me. I love to write and Nico loves to read. And the lyrics we listened to today had a message that spoke to both of us, and that is…everything is going to be ok.

We got this!

We have each other and it’s good to be alive!

Truer words have never been spoken. I have Nico’s hand and he has mine and we are so lucky to be healthy and happy and able to wake up to another day together as a family! Here’s to this new school year for my sweet boy!

Freeze Frame

I wish I could freeze time. Right now. Just freeze it as it stands—regardless of all the chaos that is enveloping our world at the moment—because Nico is having an amazing summer.

I don’t think I have ever felt this at ease with my son in the five and a half years since his diagnosis. I had to actually stop and think back to the last time Nico had a real meltdown or bad day because I couldn’t understand why I was feeling so content lately. Normally I am so silently on-edge, waiting for something to happen. But, he has been so regulated and happy these last several weeks that I, for the first time since his diagnosis, haven’t been hyper-focused on his Autism.

No joke. No exaggeration. I have not looked at my son and thought about Autism. I have not felt anxious, overwhelmed, or hopeless in what feels like ages and it’s because Nico seems so content with life. It’s not as if he has completely stopped stimming or scripting. He hasn’t changed up his interests or diet or sensory needs in any extraordinary way; yet, I have been utterly transfixed on his lighthearted disposition.

Now, it could be 100% attributed to the fact that he has spent a majority of his summer so far with his cousins and he feels so comfortable with them. He can be himself with them. They just get him. Nico doesn’t have to say anything or do anything extra for his cousins to know what he needs or wants. They know when he needs a break. They know when he needs affection. They know when he wants something simply because they have learned to pick up on his verbal cues and nonverbal behaviors.

With a pandemic in full effect, typical summer vacation plans were squashed, but that didn’t stop Nico and his cousins from enjoying a family-imposed “Stay at home” order. They swam all day, watched movies, snacked until their tummies were busting at the seams, stayed up way too late for their own good, laughed until their insides hurt, and made these quarantined times as fun-filled for each other as possible.

And with Nico spending so much time with his family, he is using more language again. He is socializing more. He wants to be around us more. My heart is bursting because my son is engaged and present in ways that I haven’t seen for awhile. This is what we had been missing ever since schools switched to remote learning and kids weren’t in school socializing anymore.

However, if there is one moment from this summer so far that I could freeze and replay over and over again it would be the moment Nico gave genuine attention to his baby brother, Max. Normally, it’s like pulling teeth to get Nico to even acknowledge that Max exists. He knows his brother is here to stay, but he just lets Max do his thing while he does his. But, the other evening, I was rocking Max to sleep in my arms and we were both nodding off when I felt the most subtle brush past my arm. I opened my eyes and there was Nico rubbing Max’s head ever so gently. Just enough to let him know, “I see you. I love you. You mean something to me.” But, not with too much pressure that would have woken either of us up.

He sat there and rubbed Max’s head for a good minute or so and I kept ever so still with my eyes slightly ajar, watching my sweet boy give his brother love and attention…on his own terms. On his own time. I didn’t open my eyes or let him know that I saw him. I wanted Nico to have that moment for himself. That’s what he wanted. A private moment between brothers. Instead, I choked back my tears, took a mental photograph of the moment, and noted the date and time for memory’s sake.

My sweet boy continues to surprise me each and every day. There is still so much of him I have yet to discover, so when he is present in the moment with me or welcoming me into his world I have to recognize it on a grander scale.

Now, I don’t know what the remainder of summer will have in store for us when we have to say goodbye to our family. I know it will crush us, especially Nico. And, I am scared beyond words at the thought of the upcoming school year and what option is the best for him. I know the socialization and daily routine are absolutely paramount for Nico’s continual progress and growth, but not at the cost of our family’s health.

In a year with so many atrocities and so much despair, I want to carve out this one fragment of time and just hang on to it for dear life. Who knows if these moments will ever be replicated again. Autism can shift and change at any time and take Nico in a completely different direction.

But, what I do know is that Nico is happy. Nico is having fun. Nico is surrounded by his family who seem to magically evoke this incredible transformation which frees him of challenges and limitations.

So, for now, I plan on giving Nico a summer filled with as much socially distanced, quality, quarantined family fun time as possible.

Let’s just hope that this blog post will not trigger a tsunami of superstitious jinxing (which really means Nico decides to basically say, “just joking, mom…here’s an epic meltdown for ya!”) at its conclusion. Fingers crossed!

Stay safe and healthy, but remember to live, love, and laugh everyday. We’re all in this together.

A Mother’s Love

I don’t think there is any stronger love than that of a mother’s. There is not anything I wouldn’t do for Nico to make his life easier, less of a struggle, more fulfilled, or more neurotypical. I have made ultimate sacrifices for him that have truly tested my faith, patience, and resolve, but I literally could not imagine NOT working this hard for my child.

This pandemic has been catastrophic on many levels and it has affected our little family in many ways, especially Nico. The only silver linings I have clung to have been the fact that he has his ABA therapy everyday and our backyard haven. We follow strict guidelines so that we know both Nico’s therapist and Nico are healthy each day they work together. Without ABA right now, I don’t know where we would be. And, when Nico comes home he enjoys his pool, swing, and trampoline in the backyard since going out or traveling is out of the question. That has been our life for months now and because of this dramatic change in daily life, Nico has regressed. I know he will have to relearn so much. It keeps me up at night just thinking about. I walk around my house with knots in my stomach just thinking about it.

As a mother, my life is my children. I have two now so I have to spend it equally between both of them, but that can be tough when one has special needs. I just always feel myself being pulled a little bit more towards Nico. Being a bit more protective of Nico. Wanting to give Nico a smidge more attention otherwise he would really never interact with his father, brother and me. Nico would be perfectly content to sit in the living room with us, but live in his own world surrounded by his books, his iPad, and his little knickknacks he finds around the house and collects in a pile. I catch myself staring at him, just wondering what he’s thinking. Wondering if he even knows or cares that his mother is literally watching him from just a few feet away with such wonderment and concern. I wish so many things for him. Every chance I get, I am trying to get him to talk appropriately or engage with us in functional ways. I live for the moments when he wants to be tickled or wants to show us his dance moves. It shows me that he can connect to us when he wants to.

Nico has no idea how much I truly love him. It’s an all-consuming feeling. I cannot find enough words to even describe the feeling. I tell him every single day, multiple times a day, that I love him. He very rarely registers what I’m saying, but I have to believe he knows what those words mean and he knows that he is loved. I now fully understand what my mom meant when she said those same words to me over 20 years ago. “You have no idea how much I love you…truly you don’t and I will never be able to explain it to you.” I found it so overly dramatic at the time, but I allowed her to hug me and gush over me because we were setting up our home for my high school graduation party and she was feeling very sentimental. I gave her a big kiss, told her I loved her to pieces, and then took off before she got weepy because I knew it was headed in that direction and I was a teenager just wanting to finish my chores. I knew she loved me, but as I reflect back…I really had no idea how much she loved me.

I am beyond thankful though that we had that moment together and she spoke those words to me because it would be our last mother/daughter moment. I would not have her with me after that day and I discovered there truly is no substitute for that kind of love—a mother’s love.

It’s a love that makes you wake up at 7am every weekend to make your children their favorite pancakes.

It’s a love that makes you take out every seed from a watermelon because you know your kids struggle with the seeds.

It’s a love that has you making your own secret blend of cinnamon sugar for your child’s favorite food in the world—cinnamon toast—because it makes him deliriously happy.

It’s a love that makes you stay up until 2am on the weekends to play all the Super Mario Bros. games because it is the best time to spend quality time with your one child while the other is sound asleep.

It’s a love that makes you want to sing to your child each morning and evening because his eyes radiate and it puts a smile on his face to hear music.

It’s a love that makes you leave everyone and everything you have ever known and move to a whole new state so your child can have a better quality of life despite your fears and reservations.

And, it’s a love that will continue to break you down, build you back up, carry you through, knock you over, and make you whole again because it’s a love reserved for your children.

My sons have no clue how much I absolutely love and adore them, despite how much I smother them with kisses and hugs and “I love you.” Just like I had no clue how much my mother truly loved and adored me in those childhood moments. But, I am so grateful to her because she taught me what a mother’s love should look like and feel like and what it endures and sacrifices.

So June 27th will always be my day to go an extra mile in showing my sons what a mother’s love feels like because there is nothing else like it. And for my Nico, I will continue to try and move mountains for you because you deserve nothing less.

The Great Regression

I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. The goal was to take it day by day. It was not supposed to be this long. This was not supposed to be the new normal.

March was just supposed to bring with it an extended Spring Break and then back to school he would go. The year would continue. Progress would continue. The pit in my stomach would continue to dissipate a little more each day because Nico would thrive a bit more each day.

It is now May and my sweet boy is missing out on so much. He has been isolated from the real world for far too long. For him, being home reading his books (over and over again) is completely normal for him, but that was something that school had really changed up for him and I had welcomed such a healthy change of pace. So much of the Kindergartner that I was seeing in him on the daily is disappearing and what is presenting itself now is eerily too familiar.

Nico is regressing.

I can see it every time I try to play with one of his things. His ability to share has started to wane because he has no one to share with anymore. No peers to interact with daily. No one to hold him accountable and show him how to share other than his parents and it’s just different when it comes from us. School was doing wonders for him in this department. He’s not as focused on what I’m saying or asking him anymore. He responds with a “yes” to basically every question I ask whether it be about reading, math, or writing and before I even finish asking it. He is getting easily frustrated when he makes a mistake or answers something wrong and that is leading to more self-injurious behaviors. Banging his hand on the table in protest is something I am having to combat again. Virtual learning is the furthest from Nico’s comfort zone and it is taking a toll on him…and me.

The meltdowns have become more frequent too. This is extremely jarring for me because it takes me back to our early diagnosis days where we couldn’t go a day without a meltdown. Because he has been without speech therapy, academic instruction, and socialization, his communication is regressing. He is becoming more frustrated again when he can’t find the words to voice why he is upset. This is leading to aggression.

Mother’s Day 2020 left me a bit shaken and scarred…literally. Nico’s meltdown caused him to scratch me pretty badly and that rocked my world. He had not had a meltdown like that in a long time and not only did it last for several minutes, he was aggressive towards me in a way that was completely unrecognizable. My sweet boy is loving and affectionate so I could never truly imagine a world where he would be anything but that. I think that’s why this meltdown affected me so deeply. I went to bed panicked that this quarantine may have sparked a new chapter in Nico’s journey that would cause him to start becoming more aggressive. It’s dramatic to think like that, but there are several children and adults on the severe end of the spectrum and they are physically aggressive to themselves and others daily. My heart breaks for them and their families every time I read one of their stories. That’s the side of Autism which isn’t talked much about in mainstream media, but it’s a serious concern for Autism parents.

Ever since that meltdown I have felt my anxiety levels increase and a sense of hopelessness start to creep in. It has also made me sit and reflect on how I’ve been feeling overall with everything that is going on and I am realizing more and more that I, too, may be regressing. I, honest to God, feel myself losing track of hours and days. I can’t formulate words or thoughts as easily anymore. Baking and cooking have been keeping me sane and working out has been keeping my endorphins somewhat elevated, but any time your child is struggling it affects you 10x harder so, needless to say, the anxiety has felt Herculean. I’m feeling myself losing hope. I know it’s probably because I’m antsy and tired of being cooped up. I’m stressed out because of the current situation, but nevertheless I’m feeling like optimism is slipping away.

I’m seeing so clearly now that Nico continues to have major deficits and it’s scaring the hell out of me. He can’t write anything other than his name. He can read so well—truly can read anything—but when I ask him simple comprehension questions he cannot communicate those answers to me. He can’t sit still for more than two minutes. He’s scripting and stimming nonstop while I try to get him to focus on his schoolwork so I know he is not fully aware of what I am trying to teach him. And, at the end of the day, Nico is not talking to me. We can’t even talk about how he’s feeling being out of school and away from his friends because he simply cannot verbalize his feelings and it breaks my heart. I know my sweet boy misses school but we can’t talk about it because Nico doesn’t communicate functionally and I have no idea if he ever will.

What I’ve learned is that Nico and I aren’t living in a cooperative world. We’re living in parallel worlds, looking through glass at each other. Nico opens a window into his world every now and then and lets me in, but it’s not everyday and it’s not for too long.

I have worked so hard these last five years to fill every inch of myself up with hope and push myself to believe that Nico will be just fine. My husband and I have sacrificed so much and will continue to give (up) everything we can to ensure Nico has the best quality of life, but what if that’s still not enough?

I cringe whenever I allow myself to even utter that question aloud.

Darn you, COVID! We have come too far to fall backwards. I’m too tired. Nico should not have to work twice as hard just to get back to square one. I can’t have the same conversations with his therapists and teachers again about behaviors and goals that he had mastered, but now has to remaster because he has regressed. And I can’t even think about what this “new normal” is going to do to our school system, but, if the CDC has anything to do with it, it will be a nightmare. I understand the rationale for all of these precautionary measures; however, after I read their guidelines for reopening schools in the next school year I almost stroked out. No child should be subjected to an environment like that, but kids like Nico will struggle in all new ways and I cant fathom my son suffering through that regardless of how resilient he is.

I’ve been talking to my other Autism moms and I know I’m not alone. We’re all feeling so defeated right now. And I know that these feelings aren’t just reserved for special needs parents. This pandemic is taking a major toll on all of us parents and our kiddos.

This is hard. There’s no handbook for something like this. I just have to reserve the right to feel sad and grieve. So, today I am going to grieve the childhood my son deserved and is missing out on…and that has everything to do with the pandemic, not Autism.

Ironically, Autism has done a tremendous job of preparing us for social distancing. At the beginning of our journey with Autism, we spent plenty of time at home not wanting to be social for fear of what it might trigger in Nico. So, in this respect, Autism has managed to come through for me and produce a social distancing silver lining amongst all of this regression. It truly does bring about so many unexpected surprises.

Let’s hope better days and good things are coming…

To My Boys on Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day will forever be a bittersweet day for me; I yearn for my mother to be by my side. It’s one of life’s real cruelties to lose a mother, especially at a young age, because a mother’s love is one that can never be replicated. It’s one of a kind. The bond my mother and I shared was truly symbiotic.

The job of a mother is, ultimately, the most important job. We literally bring life into the world. When I held my boys in my arms for the first time, my life was forever changed. It was no longer just mine. An equally over-joyous and overwhelming feeling consumed me when I thought about the immense responsibility I was about to take on as a mother, yet I couldn’t imagine anyone else taking care of my child better than I could so I took that baby in my arms and motherhood commenced. The bond was formed between mother and son.

My boys are my life. I live to just watch them be their unique little selves. And, the biggest silver lining to come out of this nightmarish pandemic is that I have been able to spend so much quality time with them together and separately. It truly has been a blessing because it is these times that will help build the bond between my boys and strengthen the love they have for each other. These moments will also help cement their bond with me, I hope, and teach them that a mother’s love is all-encompassing.

But as I lay here on the eve of this somewhat muted Mother’s Day, I thought I would write to my boys. Something for them to read (and to look back on) during a time when they lived in a world that was uncertain and precarious.

To my Nico and Maximo:

  • I can never fully express how much I love you both in words. Like, I literally can’t find the right words to express how much I absolutely love the two of you…and I’m a writer…talk about ironic.
  • I am a very strong woman, but I cry pretty easily so be prepared. You may take turns consoling me and bringing me tissues. Oh, and this will also probably mean you’ll end up marrying someone who is equally as emotional as your mother because that seems to be how things work out so…you’re welcome.
  • You are a joy and a pain in my life. When you are happy, I am over-the-moon ecstatically happy for you, but when you are sad it is the most heart-wrenching, hopeless feeling ever because all I want to do is make it better for you and I know that won’t always be possible.
  • I have to will myself not to kiss and hug and squeeze you over and over. I am very affectionate so you will need to humor me when I ask for a kiss or I expect a hug every single time I see you. I promise, I will never (intentionally) embarrass you with my affection as you get older.
  • You will always be my “babies.” I will try very hard to not coddle you and make sure to give you space, but I can’t promise I won’t use the terms of endearment I have had for you since you were born. Hey listen, your grandpa still calls me “pussycat” and I’m a grown woman for Pete’s sake. Parents adore their kids…what can I tell ya?
  • I will lose my patience with you and it probably won’t be pretty….ask your father. But, if I do then you must have done something pretty stupid or pretty bad because I have a lot of patience. So, word to the wise: Don’t make me lose my patience. You don’t want to see the “evil eyes.” Instead, think before you speak or act.
  • You will experience some challenges in life. Everyone does. I have experienced plenty so I will be one of the best people to come to when you need a shoulder to lean on or cry on. Yes, I said cry on. It will be ok for you to cry. Men are allowed to cry. I am a very good listener and I promise I won’t try to fix the problem if you don’t want me to. I will simply listen. Just please come to me every once in awhile.
  • I stare at you both all the time. I am constantly taking mental photographs of you in my mind because time goes by so quickly and we are never promised a tomorrow. I know that’s pretty morbid, but it’s true. I learned that the hard way with your grandma’s passing, but I adored your grandma so I watched her a lot and have many mental photographs of her to keep me comfort. I hope you will do the same with me.
  • You two are going to be tight for life. I can feel it. Yes, you will have disagreements, but I know you will always look out for each other. I am trying to instill that in you both now. I will always encourage you two to be close so don’t get annoyed if you share a room for an unusually long time. Just kidding…maybe.
  • I have been blessed with boys who symbolize the love I have for their father and who will forever know me as their mother. I love you both with an unconditional love. A love that you can always count on to carry you through anything. Thank you for making me a mom.

The Struggle is Real…for Everyone

I just left the hospital where my father is having surgery and it never felt so good to breath in the fresh air. Wearing a mask for countless hours (especially with glasses where they fog up every 5 seconds) is no walk in the park. It’s constricting and uncomfortable; just downright abnormal for me. God bless these healthcare workers who have to wear them for ungodly amounts of time and still manage to comfort you with a sincere look and an imprint of a smile through their mask.

The struggle is, for sure, real for these wonderful individuals and wearing a mask is the least of them, but it did make me think.

Being a healthcare worker or a teacher or a parent of a special needs child has always come with its struggles. Our jobs are extremely rewarding, but there are days when it can be unbearable for the mind, body, and soul. I am both a teacher and Autism mom so the catchphrase, “the struggle is real” has basically been my mantra in life, but I am now beginning to feel like this is becoming the mantra for our world and it’s as evident as a crooked, tacky bumper sticker on a brand new car—it’s ever-noticeable, annoying AF, and is going to be hell to get rid of without leaving an indelible mark.

I look around and all I see are messages and signage letting us know that we are not alone. We are “all in this together.” It’s a bit surreal when you see celebrities (unshaven and without their false lashes) just chilling in their homes, sending out well wishes on Instagram. Even my local Mexican restaurant is sending out positive vibes with its daily messages of hope (and ever-so-subtle “we are still open” pleas). My heart goes out to these small businesses who have been financially crippled by this pandemic, along with hair and nail salons (just call me Rapunzel) and the restaurant and hospitality industries. And that’s just to name a few. The sheer panic, anxiety, and discomfort that has come from all of this uncertainty has every single one us activating our internal “survival mode.” We are wading through unchartered waters with no shore in sight.

But, in seeing all of this sense of community and togetherness, I have come to the realization that I am truly not alone in my feelings of struggle, anxiety, and grief. Never before have I felt such solidarity, in struggle, amongst humankind as I do now. Now, don’t get me wrong….struggle is a very relative term and I am not making light of any struggles that were there before this pandemic because I have suffered my own struggles in the pre-pandemic era, but I truly believe that even those who have been blessed and privileged with a struggle-free life are finding themselves struggling in ways they could never have imagined. And, for this Autism mama….I find a bit of comfort in that thought knowing that empathy and a sense of community are (hopefully) growing.

No longer is it just Autism parents struggling with their kids’ needs and wants and their meltdowns and regression. I have been talking to many of my friends with neurotypical children and they are struggling with their kiddos not wanting to sit and do schoolwork virtually or go to sleep at a decent hour. They’re just as worried about their kids regressing because of a lack of structure, socialization, and explicit academic instruction. I feel so badly for my friends who have kids graduating this year; they are feeling so helpless because they cannot orchestrate efforts in a manner that allows for celebration and communal recognition. The countless high school and college seniors who deserved to enjoy all of those quintessential milestones like prom and graduation, but instead have to be celebrated and recognized from afar and in a sterile, virtual environment. It all just stinks.

And, I know it isn’t just Nico who is longing for the comfort of his classroom and his friends and a daily routine that made sense to him. All of our kids are struggling with this new normal that has cut them off from so much socially, academically, and physically.

For the first time ever, I am realizing that the struggles and the grief and the uncertainty that I am feeling are no longer just reserved for me as an Autism parent. It is being felt by everyone due to this pandemic. For Autism parents, we become somewhat immune to the feelings of loneliness and isolation, but now our world is feeling this same sense of isolation and loneliness. It isn’t just me who yearns to be more socially active with my son, but can’t for fear of what could happen. Nico has come so far, but I still worry every time we leave the house that something adverse will happen and cause him to struggle and flail. These fears are now synonymous with the fears of countless others due to the risks of COVID-19. We must limit our social interactions and travel so as to decrease our chances of getting sick or worse. The similarities in all of this, for me, are unbelievably palpable.

We truly are ALL in this together.

I hate knowing that, because of this pandemic, I will not be able to sit with my father after his surgery. It’s inconceivable to me to think of him recovering without me by his side so I can’t even fathom the thought of families being separated during a loved one’s last breaths. Healthcare workers unable to hug their children when they get home from a 24 hour shift. Fathers not being allowed in the room when their wives are giving birth. Or, a husband speaking to his wife of 50 years over FaceTime for, possibly, the last time before she is placed on a ventilator. These are real struggles and they are universal.

All of this that we are feeling is universal. The struggle IS real and it’s heavy. But, if raising a child with Autism has taught me one thing it’s this—you never know how strong you are until you have no other choice. Autism brings with it so much wonderment, but it also provides its fair share of heartache that can be hard to stomach. However, I never would have thought I could survive Autism and all the struggles that have accompanied this diagnosis, but not only am I surviving; I feel as though I have been thriving too. There is something to be said about a “healthy struggle” and I truly believe that although we are facing many struggles, not all of them have to be adverse. We should take this time to recognize and feel all of our emotions as they come, while also finding strength to push forward through them.

I am taking every day as it comes (as I have done since I began my journey with Nico through the world of Autism) and will continue to find silver linings everywhere I can. This helps me cultivate a healthy struggle with the circumstances that I have been dealt. These pandemic-era struggles will soon subside and we will, once again, find our rhythm, but for now bask in the silver lining that has been unearthed for us during these tumultuous times and that is: TOGETHERNESS.

And just to show you that I practice what I preach…my current healthy struggle is knowing that, because of this darn coronavirus, the 3-second rule no longer applies so the cheese stick I just dropped on my floor can’t satisfy my ferocious hunger conjured up by a 3+ hour waiting room stint. I just pitched it in the garbage….sigh. At least I don’t have to log those calories for the day now….silver lining!

Teachable Moments

Nico was not able to sit and do any of his schoolwork today. I had a feeling it was going to be a tough day as soon as the first meltdown started ten minutes after he woke up. First the whining began for no reason. Then, he started making weird noises that got louder and louder. He does this for attention because he knows I do not feed into his behaviors if they are petulant. Lastly, the screaming, throwing himself all over the couch and floor, and hitting began.

He was in the thick of a meltdown (probably just a tantrum since nothing had happened yet to trigger him) and it was only 9am. Today was going to be a long day. I said this to myself and immediately wanted to crawl back into bed, lock my door and shut the world out.

Instead, I gave Nico the “evil eye.”

I have become a whiz at giving the “evil eye.” This particular eye was something that scared the living hell out of me in my childhood whenever my mother aimed it my way. It scared the hell out of me when she aimed it at anyone in our house actually. The eye meant she had had enough, you had worn down her patience, and she was about to blow. Nico has become the recipient of the evil eye now, when he decides he is going to be difficult for no apparent reason, and he hates it. He will do basically everything in his power to get me to smile and stop giving him the eye because he does not like it when I get upset with him. From literally trying to push my lips into a smile with his hands to saying “no thanks..no thanks” over and over again, Nico knows when he has pushed me to my limit because it takes a lot. I have to laugh because my husband doesn’t quite have the same effect on Nico so even he is convinced of the power behind this ominous optical gesture of mine. Sometimes I want to burst out laughing because the effort that Nico goes to in trying to reverse my grim demeanor is ingenious as well as endearing.

I also chuckle in knowing, with 100% certainty, that I have turned into my mother and I have to say…I’m liking this maternal power I have cultivated. Ha! The evil eye is mine!

However, this meltdown/tantrum has proven to me that even though Nico has Autism, he is still a typical little boy who knows how to instigate, antagonize, push my buttons, and manipulate a situation. He is very smart. We knew that early on despite his lack of language, social skills, and age-appropriate behavioral skill sets. Nico knew how to problem solve very early in life, due to not being able to communicate with us, and I marveled at how hard he worked to help us understand what his needs and wants were. Nico is also very intrigued by cause and effect relationships; therefore, telling him “no” only fuels his interest more in wanting to do the unacceptable action.

So, I have begun to take these skill sets that Nico excels in and put them to good use now that we are having to learn outside of the classroom with me as his primary teacher. I am realizing more and more that Nico’s academic path for the rest of his Kindergarten year cannot be solely focused on literacy, mathematics, writing, and science because it is just too overwhelming for and unfamiliar to him. And, I’m ok with that.

My goal for my Nico, moving forward, is to teach him how to survive in a world that does not always lend itself to an atypical brain like his. I am going to teach him how to use his incredible problem solving skills, his intrigue with cause and effect relationships, and his masterful art of persuasion and manipulation to his advantage.

I have been reading article after article about the concerns parents, teachers, schools, and universities are having over the fact that students are not in school. Concerns that students are being forced to engage in environments that are unfamiliar and not effectively conducive for learning. It’s a constant topic circulating on social media platforms. This idea that parents are being expected to home school their children while also fulfilling their own work obligations virtually is all just so unrealistic and counterproductive. I feel for my fellow parental comrades, especially my Autism and special needs parents, who are feeling so defeated and overwhelmed with the current state of their child’s school year. But, I promise you…it’s going to be ok. Our kids are still going to become teachers, doctors, lawyers, and scientists.

And you wanna know why?

Because this is the time to make a concerted effort to teach our children life skills. It’s time to build their capacity in skill sets that, coupled with academics (which they will receive again sooner or later), will best prepare them for adulthood and foster a greater sense of independence. Independence is something that my Nico must painstakingly work towards everyday because my husband and I will not always be here to advocate for him and there is no guarantee that anyone else will.

Think about this…there are thousands of wonderful people out their sewing masks to help stop the spread of COVID-19. If those same people also take the time now to teach their children how to sew imagine the ripple effect it will have if we are ever faced with something like this again. I was never taught how to sew by my mom. She always told me that knowing how to sew was not going to be nearly as essential for me as it was for her because times had changed. Just like my dad never taught me how to change a tire because he said all I would have to do is call AAA and they would come out and do it for me. Hence why, to this day, I anxiously await my membership renewal in the mail and feel so comforted when I take road trips with my husband.

These two life skills alone are essential now more than ever. We are being expected to wear face masks whenever we go out in public so unless you can snag some off of Amazon for an insanely inflated price or know someone who did learn how to sew and can make you some, you best learn how to sew. And don’t even think about asking someone to come change your tire in an expeditious manner during a pandemic. Car repair and emergency maintenance companies are running on skeleton crews, if they are even still up and running at all. These life skill sets can easily be turned into “teachable moments” for our children during these times of school absence.

I have been taking the time each day to find “teachable moments” in whatever I am working on in the house. When Nico wants to read a book, I am teaching him how to read with intonation so he can bring every book he reads to life. When I’m washing the dishes, I am explaining to Nico which dishes belong in the dishwasher and which ones should be hand washed. When I’m cooking dinner, I explain to Nico that he cannot touch raw chicken or a hot stove. I show him what a well-balanced meal looks like (in the hopes that one day he will sit and actually eat one with us)–a protein, a starch, and a vegetable–and have him label each of the items with me.

Nico understands now that when you leave a room, you turn the light off in that room to save electricity (a lesson that has become invaluable as of late). He also knows that when he feels crumbs under his feet it’s time to get the vacuum and will point to its location in the laundry room. My husband is showing Nico how to skim our pool and explains to him the importance of keeping debris out of the skimmer. Nico has also learned where to find bandaids and ointment for when any of us gets a cut or abrasion. He may not be able to fully pronounce Neosporin or know how to apply a bandaid, but his problem solving skills will always ensure we are taken care of in these situations.

All of these teachable moments have layers of learning built right in. Nico is learning new vocabulary, he is learning more cause and effect relationships, and he is figuring out various solutions to problems that may arise. The point is, Nico is still learning daily. I may not be able to get him to sit down in front of the computer and do his sight word search or addition and subtraction math problems, but our days are not forgone when it comes to learning new skills.

Now is the time to teach your kids first aid, how to use a knife safely, the best way to mow the lawn, and how to make their bed each morning. This is the time to show them how they can add value to their lives and the lives of others. Do not be hard on yourself and think you are failing just because you’re struggling to manage home schooling while still working full time from a location that can be anything but conducive for productivity. Do not be beat yourself up because you are spending more time on trying to keep everyone in your home healthy and mentally sane in the midst of a global pandemic as opposed to completing every online assignment.

In my opinion, we’re doing pretty darn well amidst this chaos, but if you’re feeling like you’re doing less than ok right now do not, for one minute, think you are alone. We’re all trying to wade through this storm together.

And know this…we are all ROCKSTARS whose children are going to come out of this perfectly fine.

So, close up your kid’s Google Classroom for the day, kick your feet up, open a bottle of wine, and make a list of all the teachable moments you are about to bestow upon your children because they are going to learn infinitely more from those moments than anything else right now.

How do I know this? Because they are coming from YOU!