RE: Fw: [SpectrumSupport] Fw: 's Little Miracles: Life with Three Autistic Kids

[Guest guest]

1. Thank you, universe, luck, random act of kindness, that my child is

high-functioning. Thank you for the life I have, the life my child has, and the

life that, on good days, we can look forward to with anticipation.

2. " on the day she became autistic " You all *know* I have a problem with that.

Jacquie

[Guest guest]

> 1. Thank you, universe, luck, random act of kindness, that my child is

high-functioning. Thank you for the life I have, the life my child has, and

the life that, on good days, we can look forward to with anticipation.

Well, I don't know if Putter is high functioning or not, at least not yet,

but it is my opinion that he will be one day, but YEAH to what you said.

Putter is much better off than her kids and he is younger than her youngest.

SO grateful.

>

>

> 2. " on the day she became autistic " You all *know* I have a problem with

that.

>

I do too, but, if it is what she saw? I just don't know. It seems so

strange to me.

Putter was always different. Enrique was always different.

Salli

[Guest guest]

>

> Raena, I totally see what you're saying -- but do you think those

reports support a child walking across the room and suddenly

switching from NT to autistic like that? I'm not challenging, by the

way -- I really want to know! I've never heard of such an

ABRUPT 'transformation' like described in that article.>>

Jacquie,

Here is a quote from the book, " When Autism Strikes " , a collection of

parent-related stories of 7 children who were diagnosed with CDD:

" turned 3 years old on February 27, 1992. His godparents,

and Joan Coutts, were staying for the weekend to attend 's

birthday party.

While I perpared breakfast, I listened for the familiar call

of " Mummy " from 's room. This constituted a summons and a

request for me to open his cot so that he might begin his day. I

decided to wake . He was sitting in his cot, eyes opened and

yet motionless. When I entered, he appeared not to hear me, as if in

a trance. Clicking my fingers only centimeters from his nose evoked

no response. What strange spell had been cast on my child? "

There are several interesting stories where a child suddenly slips

into a " trance " , usually it comes and goes for a bit, but it does

come on suddenly...I honestly don't know, but at this point in my

life, I am willing to believe almost anything...the more I learn

about the brain, the more I believe anything is possible.

Raena

[Guest guest]

Salli....

This woman lives less than 20 MINUTES from me. Can anyone give me more info on

Apraxia...I REALLY think has some form of it or another. Good article....

" bunnytiner " wrote:

>

>How many of you here on this list had children turn autistic almost from one

minute to the next? I do know some who felt it happened that way, usually

because of a vaccination, but this article describes it as just incredibly

sudden.

>

>Salli

>

>>

http://www.gopbi.com/partners/pbpost/epaper/editions/sunday/accent_c38330b107cc9\

16a1052.html

>>

>> Dennis Debbaudt

>> Port St. Lucie,. Florida

>> http://www.policeandautism.cjb.net

>>

>LAURA'S little miracles

>

>

>By Colleen Mastony, Palm Beach Post Staff Writer

>Sunday, January 6, 2002

>

>

> didn't know what autism

>

>was 10 years ago, when her first child was born.

>

>By age 1, wasn't answering to his name.

>

> could stand behind him and yell, " ! "

>

>But the boy wouldn't flinch.

>

> didn't babble. He rarely even cried.

>

> thought he was deaf.

>

>She took to the doctor, but the doctor was perplexed. Tests showed that

's hearing was normal. Maybe he'll grow out of it, the doctor suggested.

Months later, in July of 1993, went to a new physician. The doctor greeted

her, took one look at and said, " How long ago was your son diagnosed

with autism? "

>

> " What's autism? " asked. She was 8 months pregnant.

>

>Doctors assured that her second child would be normal. They didn't know

preliminary studies indicated the disorder might be genetic. was thrilled

when her second boy, , began saying his first words -- " Mama " and " Dada. "

was sure the doctors were right.

>

>Then, one afternoon in August of 1994, when was almost 1, called

for him, but didn't answer. found in his room, ignoring her

calls, hypnotically laying his blocks in a long line. He did not answer. He did

not look up. telephoned her father. " is acting deaf, " she said. " I

think he's autistic too. "

>

>Soon after, doctors confirmed the early symptoms of 's autism, and

started on shots of Depo-Provera, a contraceptive. But by January, she was

pregnant again, and her husband, , was furious. What if their third child

was also autistic? The doctors calmed 's fears. They had never heard of

anyone having two autistic children, much less three. Plus, autism is up to four

times more common in boys than girls. Their daughter would surely be normal, the

doctors said.

>

> was overjoyed. She pictured frilly dresses, hair bows and ballet. She

imagined her daughter, , having tea parties with and . She

saw her little girl as a little teacher. In 's dreams, the little girl

would cure the boys. And for one full year after 's birth, had her

wish. was her perfect child.

>

>Then came Oct. 27, 1996, the day after 's first birthday. was

helping practice walking. was on one side of the living room,

on the other.

>

> toddled across the room into 's outstretched arms. Each time she

crossed the room, would say, " I love you! " Then, " Again! Again! " In

's memory, seemed to be running that last time she crossed the room.

>

> " I love you! " said.

>

> " Want to do it again? " asked.

>

>Total silence.

>

> " ? ! "

>

>It was as if something snapped, would later say. As if, at that moment,

her child died in her arms. " It can't be, " the doctor later said. But it was.

>

>Autism.

>

>Again.

>

>

>. . .

> is now an expert. She can tell you that autism is a lifelong

neurological disorder that usually strikes in the first two years of life,

interfering with a child's ability to communicate and relate socially.

>

> knows the symptoms: the lack of eye contact ( will turn his head

away and look at you sideways); the repetitive behavior ( can spend hours

pouring water out of the pool with a small cup); the rigid need for routine (if

takes her children to Wal-Mart, they immediately have to go to the video

section or will have a violent fit).

>

>What won't mention is that most autistic children will never marry, have

a job or live independently. Half never learn to speak. doesn't

mention these things.

>

>On the front door of her Port St. Lucie home, she has nailed a small plastic

sign. It reads, " Expect a Miracle. "

>

>If you're lucky, you might get a miracle once in your lifetime -- recovering

from a debilitating illness or becoming pregnant after you thought you never

could. By 's estimate, she gets a miracle a day.

>

>One morning, she didn't hear get up. She found him sitting at the

breakfast table. He had poured himself a bowl of cereal. Miracle.

>

>The next weekend, was lying on his stomach on the back patio, when

jumped on top of him. " , get her! " yelled. rolled over and

pushed off his back. For a second, they tussled on the ground. And if you

didn't know differently, you'd think they were a pair of regular kids. Miracle.

>

>Just the other night, was tugging on 's arm, trying to get her

attention. said, " , just say 'Mama.' " " Mama, " said. It was the

first time in five years. Miracle.

>

> , 33, is a full-time single mom who cannot count on regular child

support. Sometimes has the money to send a check, and sometimes he

doesn't. So feeds the kids, pays the rent and keeps the car and all the

major household appliances running on $1,431 a month -- the children's

disability payments from the government.

>

>When the washing machine broke, was on her hands and knees, pulling at

belts and extracting lost toys, until the machine rumbled backed to life. If

something breaks that she can't fix, like the air conditioning in the minivan,

it just stays broken. But none of that matters to .

>

> " We're having miracles everyday. Who has that? If you could add up the value of

all those miracles, then we would be the richest people in the world. "

>

>

>. . .

>Autism affects as many as 1 in 500 children. It is more common than Down

syndrome, multiple sclerosis or deafness. And the numbers seem to be increasing

dramatically. The reported number of autistic children has doubled in the U.S.

over the past six years. Locally, numbers have quadrupled since 1996.

>

>Some suspect that environmental toxins or childhood vaccines are causing the

increase. Others believe that children previously labeled with different

disabilities -- or missed altogether -- are only now being correctly diagnosed

as autistic. The three key characteristics -- impaired social interaction,

impaired communication and repetitive behaviors -- can range from mild to

severe. One autistic child might sit in a corner, rocking and banging his head;

another might have an above-average IQ; and some have savant abilities, like

Hoffman's character in Rain Man.

>

>But the central characteristic of autism is what child psychologist Leo Kanner

called " extreme autistic aloneness. " As human beings, we gravitate toward one

another. We need friends and relationships. But this piece of us, so central to

our humanity, is what the children do not understand. They disregard,

shut out, ignore. What we gravitate toward, they retreat from. And if, by

chance, something breaches the walls of their inner worlds, the children

become overwhelmed. The sound of a plane in the distance, the feel of the

breeze, the glare of the sun can set off a tantrum.

>

>Though not widely accepted at the time of 's pregnancies, the working

theory points to 10 genes that must interact to trigger the disorder. If one

child in a set of identical twins is autistic, there is an 80 percent chance the

twin will be autistic, too. That's proof that the disorder is genetic -- but

also that genes are not everything.

>

>There are other families like the s. A wealthy couple with three autistic

children in New York recently donated millions to scientists at the State

University of New York at Stony Brook. But generally, after autistic symptoms

appear in one child, parents stop having children.

>

>Doctors now tell women who have given birth to an autistic child that, in the

case of a second pregnancy, they have up to a 1 in 20 chance of having a

autistic child. No one knows the odds of having a third.

>

>

>. . .

> slipped into a deep depression after 's diagnosis. The children

couldn't dress themselves. They couldn't feed themselves. They didn't sleep more

than a few hours at a time. " It was almost like I was taken out of this world

and put into the Twilight Zone, " says. " I could look into their eyes, and

it was like they were looking through me. I would talk to them, and it was

almost like talking to the wall. Every time I looked at them, I thought,

`There's no hope. This is going to be my life forever. I'm going to be taking

care of infants for the rest of my life, except they are going to get bigger and

stronger.' "

>

>At night, would rock and whisper: " Come on, . I know you're in

there. Fight it. "

>

> " When the boys would go to school, I would put in front of the TV and

watch show after show. " When the boys got home, couldn't remember the

hours since they left. She lost whole days.

>

> " I didn't want to go out. I was almost embarrassed. I didn't want to see people

that knew me or my kids. The big question was, 'If she had one, why did she have

more?' I don't know how many times I had someone ask me what I did during my

pregnancy. Did I do drugs? Did I drink?

>

> " I kept thinking, 'Why me?' I was always a good kid. I was great in school. I

never got into trouble.

>

> " My father said, 'What's the matter?' I remember yelling at my dad: 'You have

no idea what it's like. You had five normal children. I have three autistic

children. I lost . 's gone.' "

>

> looked forward to death. " I would never have to cry again, " she thought.

>

>Then, on a clear night in April 1997, hope arrived on the chords of a song

playing on the car stereo.

>

> " It was a night I was losing my mind, " she remembers. had put the

children in the minivan and was driving around the county, desperately trying to

get them to fall asleep. She played a religious song -- Sunday School Rock --

over and over, because screamed whenever it ended. It was after midnight

by the time she pulled into the driveway. She began to turn down the music,

praying for silence. Then she heard something. She clicked off the stereo. It

was .

>

> " I thought: 'That's not him. He doesn't talk.' " But it was. was

singing the chorus: " I love Jesus, yes I do. " They were his first words. He was

6. It was the first miracle.

>

>

>. . .

> " Good morning, " says to each of the kids as they pad into the kitchen. It

is shortly after 7 a.m., the start of a day in the house. There's a lot

of pointing and gesturing.

>

> " What do you want? You want this? "

>

> pulls food from the refrigerator and cabinets. Doritos? Little Debbies?

Frozen lasagna? Nutrition went out the window a long time ago. hands a can

of Pringles to , a chocolate cupcake to , then reaches for an aspirin

for herself. sucks the frosting, then drops the cake on the floor. Woof,

the dog, lunges. rolls her eyes, sighs and scoops up crumbs. Kids bolt in

different directions.

>

>There are two loads of laundry a day -- at the least -- depending on wet pants

or wet beds. Floors are mopped every day, and bedrooms are vacuumed every other.

If she's lucky, eats a meal a day, " just so I don't have to worry about

eating again, " maybe a frozen dinner zapped in the microwave around lunchtime.

>

>Someone's always coming or going at the house. qualifies for 60

hours of state-funded child care. One program gives her more hours than any

other parent in the state. She has hired from an agency, but one worker started

abusing drugs and another stole money, says. So hires her sister,

her mother and friends -- who else can you trust with children who cannot speak?

And for $8.50 an hour, they bring home-cooked meals, coffee or just their

company, really. None is a specialist in autism, but they are ready to change a

diaper, chase a child or just listen to cry.

>

> " Sometimes, I just think that I'm a vessel for the kids to get something to eat

or to drink. Like they don't care who's standing in the kitchen, " says,

about the kids. " Like they're just going to use me to get what they need. "

>

>By evening, is exhausted. Dinner is a glass of Dr Pepper. She collapses

into bed. " I put a stuffed animal against my back and pretend it's somebody.

Then I hug the crap out of the pillow, " she says.

>

>This is not exactly the life Saliba had planned. She wanted to be an

accountant. She liked the decisiveness of numbers, the neat columns, the clear

answers. Her father had worked as a corporate financial officer in Manhattan

before he moved the family to Florida and opened a video store in Fort Pierce.

>

> graduated from Fort Pierce Central and then took classes at Indian River

Community College. She met , fell in love and got married. Then

came . Then the autism. Then . And autism. Finally . And

autism. Now this is her life -- three children she adores, three children with

autism.

>

>

>.. .

> met in 1986 at Dipper Dan's Ice Cream Shop, a little place off

Midway Road, long gone now. had the most beautiful blue eyes. They dated

for four years and spent every second together -- meeting for dinner, watching

movies, taking a romantic trip to the Bahamas. They married in 1990. was

born a year later.

>

>But liked to drink, and there were other women, he acknowledges. After

's diagnosis, started drinking more and coming home less.

>

> " We heard it's rare for a second child. Maybe at first we worried, `Maybe we'll

have another autistic kid.' But they say it's so rare, " he says. " Three just

kind of blows your mind.

>

> " I started drinking, trying to forget about it, trying to accept it. I kept

hoping it would get better. It never did. I drank more. I kind of got out of

control. "

>

>There were a series of separations. A few days before Christmas 1997,

slammed 's head into a wall, according to the police report. The children

were in the same room. They didn't even wince. The police came, arrested .

filed for divorce the following year.

>

>So is a single mom. lives in Georgia with his mother and works at

a screen-door factory. He says he's coming back. " I'm kind of missing them. I'm

always going to love her. I love the kids. "

>

>This makes furious. " Did you ask him why he didn't call on 's

birthday? Why did he do all the things he did? He's just looking for sympathy.

The only sympathy I have for him is that he is missing miracles every day. He's

missing three beautiful children grow up. They are going to grow up and be

independent, and they are not even going to know him. "

>

>

>.. .

> hasn't made many friends over the years. There are the child-care workers

who sometimes become friends, but those never seem to last. Then there's

Collison, 38. She was a friend first. Five days a week, leaves her own

sons, who are 8 and 15, to come help take care of , and .

>

> " You have your kids getting on each other's nerves, and it drives you nuts, "

says. " Then you come to 's house. I would complain about my boys

fighting. would just say, `You don't know how lucky you are. I wish my

kids would interact.' "

>

>When mentions in conversations with other women, she starts, " My

friend , " then it automatically follows, because you can't leave it out:

" She has three autistic children. "

>

>Talk about opening the floodgates.

>

> " The question that most people ask me is, `Why in the world did she have

three?' They just automatically put the blame on her, " says. " They all

want to know if it's genetic, and why she kept the kids, and why isn't the dad

in the picture? "

>

>So, hasn't had many girlfriends.

>

>

>.. .

> has gone for genetic testing. " We went back as far as my

great-grandmother. The only thing we found was Down syndrome in one of my

mother's cousins. No mental retardation. No type of learning disability.

Nothing, " she says. " We can't trace it anywhere. "

>

>Except that can't go to sleep until she checks the locks three times. On

the day the Social Security checks come in, she'll call the bank three times,

just to make sure the money's there. If she touches an ashtray, she has to wash

her hands -- three times.

>

>A few years ago, she started seeing the same thing in . " He would have to

touch everything in order. Like a tile on the floor, he'd run up to touch it.

He'd have to touch it like 10 times before he could walk away. " The doctor

explained obsessive compulsive disorder. " I thought, at first, it was my fault,

that these traits were from me, " says. " I never connected it to the

autism. "

>

>Then, there's .

>

>He has trouble making eye contact -- " just like the kids, " he says.

>

> likes to think that 's genes caused the autism. " If the scientists

or the doctors were to come back and say, ' you have an autism gene, you

caused them to be autistic' -- that would be like . . . I can't even find the

words . . . " She pauses, covers her mouth with her hands: " I'm not going to cry.

I'm not going to cry. I'm too tired for that. " Then continues: " It would be more

devastating than even the autism is to me. I look at their faces and to think

that I could put them into that world. I couldn't live. "

>

>

>.. .

> is 10 now. Today, he is on the patio blowing bubbles, mesmerized as

they float away. His blue eyes stare from beneath barely visible eyebrows. His

high cheekbones and pointy chin give him the impish look of Pan. You walk

up, absently pop a bubble. Then it happens. turns and looks at you.

After spending whole days together, he has never looked at you.

>

>You pop another bubble, then another. He is belly-laughing now. You are jumping

up and down, whooping as you pop bubbles, laughing -- ecstatic for the

connection and desperate to keep his attention.

>

>The moment lasts for only seconds and then, like a soap bubble, is gone.

>

>Minutes later, is walking back and forth along a section of the fence

in a corner of the yard. He moves with the grace of a dancer, his body loose in

an arm-swinging, lolloping gait. He is walking on his toes, absently flapping

his hand next to his face, clicking his tongue and staring into space. You

follow, call his name, splash water from the pool. He does not look at you.

Playfully, you reach out, try to tickle him. He moves away.

>

>He makes a sweeping arc with his arm. A conductor to a silent symphony. He

holds his hand aloft, slightly angled, then adjusts the angle, watching. He

makes the gesture dozens of times a day. Lost in the sweep of his arm, the light

on his upraised palm, the color of skin against sky -- this is 's world.

>

>Like most 10-year-olds, 's oldest can spend hours in front of the

television set. But when watches one of his hundreds of Sesame Street or

Fraggle Rock videos, he focuses on a 2-second segment, playing it again and

again, his finger on the rewind button. He stands inches from the television,

whispering the dialogue along with the characters.

>

> is the only one of 's children who speaks. He can recite biblical

passages, his ABCs, Hamlet's soliloquy. In school, he can write his name in

light, shaky letters, and he can read sentences like: " Mother sees the flowers

on the trees. "

>

>But when he tries to tell his mother that he wants his grandmother or a drink,

all that comes out is " Gama " or " Dr Pepper. " sometimes thinks is

trying to say something else, but the wrong words keep coming out. If she asks:

" Do you want pizza? " echoes: " Do you want pizza? "

>

>Other times, the words don't come at all. Then throws his head back,

opens his mouth wide and lets out a wail. He digs his chin into his fist and

bites down on his hand. He punches himself, leaving a black eye. But the words

won't come.

>

>So intuition and long-standing codes have replaced the English language in the

household. In the kitchen, walks up to his grandmother, throws

his hands in the air and bellows, " Cookie! " Saliba, 59, bellows right

back: " Cookie Monster! " She buries her face in his belly. convulses with

laughter. In between gasps, he whispers " Cookie " and throws back his arms.

>

>To the experts, these moments of connection are enough to classify the

children's autism as moderate. In extreme cases, autistic children will scream

if someone just enters the room. But, looking at , cannot call her

children's autism anything but severe.

>

> has learned to savor small moments -- like feeling gently touch

her hair and drape his arm around her head. This, likes to think, is how

says, " I love you. " He lingers for a second, then flits away.

>

>Sometimes will call, " ! Say `I love you.' "

>

>And sometimes will echo: " I LOVE YOU! "

>

>But has never heard him utter those words on his own.

>

>

>. . .

> is the middle child. The shy one. The smallest one. At the age of 8, he

has a wiry build and deep, pleading brown eyes. His left front tooth is broken

off almost at the gum, and an adult-sized tooth -- too big for his delicate

features -- grows next to the gap. His favorite color is red, thinks,

because he favors red gum balls.

>

>'s greatest treasures, above all else, are balls. owns

hundreds of balls. Balls of every color, pattern and size are scattered through

the house and back yard. 's not sure exactly how many. Three hundred? She

has bought all of the balls carried by Wal-Mart and Kmart. She has a motorized

ball that moves by itself -- is afraid of that one. And there's a bedtime

ball that helps go to sleep.

>

>If you bring a new ball to the house on 's birthday, pull it out of a

shopping bag and set it on the kitchen table, in a second, spots it. His

tiny hand plucks the gift away. It's a plain blue playground ball. has

one just like it already, but that doesn't matter. He is beaming. He carries it

around all day and digs it out of a tub of old balls after a grown-up has put it

away.

>

>Every morning when he wakes up, points to the back yard. Beyond the

sliding glass door and through the screened porch, there is a back yard like no

other. A kind of kids' kingdom. Its castles: four brightly colored playhouses.

Its boundary: a chain-link fence. Inside: a rusting swing set, a wooden

tree-swing and an above-ground pool. Two dozen balls dot the yard. Four trees

stretch overhead. Long grass grows under the shade of a huge trampoline. It is

quiet except for the whisper of the breeze and the tinkle of a chime.

>

>'s yell comes like the first notes from an unpracticed instrument --

uncontrolled, off-key. He grabs a ball from the ground, crouches and flings the

ball forward. He crisscrosses the yard. One by one, he lobs balls into a plastic

playhouse, wailing if a ball doesn't land just right. Eventually, the house is

jammed with dozens of balls. climbs to the top, surveys his work, then

begins tossing the balls back down.

>

>The cool, smooth roundness of a ball, its silent arc through the air, the

gentle thump, thump, thump it makes as it bounces across the grass or settles

into the plastic house -- this is 's world.

>

> does not speak.

>

>He uses an electronic board made up of 50-some pictures to communicate. Press a

picture; the board says the word. But it's hard to remember that you have a

board if you're only 8, and autistic.

>

>When finds crying and throwing himself down on his knees in the

yard, she softly reminds him, " Go get your board. "

>

>A tiny finger presses pictures, and a stiff, computerized voice -- sounding

entirely too grown-up for such a small boy -- announces: " I want . . . Soda . .

.. Please. " Sometimes the pictures get pressed in the wrong order. The words come

out: " Please . . .Soda . . . I want. " This makes cry. He'll bounce up and

down, let out a wail and press his chin into his hand. makes him do it

again -- guiding his hand with her own -- until the words come out right.

>

>Teachers think may have apraxia, a condition where a person understands

everything going on around him, but faulty wiring in the brain prevents him from

communicating back. " He tries. He tries to make sounds. He'll be in tears

trying, " says teacher Joanne Sweazey.

>

>So mostly points. He never picked up sign language like , who can

sign for , candy and open, but mostly just signs for candy.

>

> opens the refrigerator door and asks what he wants. points

to a pack of frozen lasagna. But when it's made and on the table, he is back at

the refrigerator. Someone has left the refrigerator chain unlocked -- a risk

around children who can empty the contents onto the floor in seconds.

>

> opens the door and pulls out a perfect plum. He holds it aloft, ducks

his head slightly, raises his eyebrows and, with pleading eyes, looks at .

She points to his untouched plate of lasagna.

>

> flings the plum to the floor. He throws his head back, straightens his

body and jumps up and down, pogo-style. He lets out the high-pitched and

rhythmic cry of a monkey.

>

>But insists. sits down, picks at the lasagna for a second, then

darts out the door. sighs at these moments and quickly moves on. They

happen a hundred times a day. But there are other rare moments when seems

like a normal boy.

>

> is in the pool. A ring of rust warps the metal walls, water spills

through the holes in the liner. climbs a rickety ladder and leaps into

the pool, arms outstretched toward the sky, mouth wide in a smile.

>

>There is something about the water that brings out. If you jump into the

water with him, he makes eye contact, laughs and bounds toward you, ready to

play.

>

> " A lot of times I feel angry, " says. " I see the little child he could be

when he's in the pool, and as soon as he steps out, it's over. " laughs,

gets a mouthful of water and sends a spout arcing through the air at .

>

> grabs a plastic football filled with water, stands and fires backs.

scampers up the ladder. A plane is passing overhead. points to the

sky. " ! Airplane! " points to the sky.

>

> " Air-plane. "

>

>It is his first word in seven years.

>

> " Yeah! " yells, throwing her head back, smiling heavenward.

>

> " You said a wooorrrrdddd. " She flings her arms wide and lets her body fall back

into the water. jumps in after her.

>

>

>. . .

> is nearly perfect. With her blue eyes, tiny baby teeth and golden tangle

of hair, this 6-year-old autistic girl could easily be a cherub peeking over a

cloud.

>

>Today, is next to the above-ground pool. Barely tall enough to look over

the edge, she reaches in and scoops water into a plastic sherbet container. Her

muscles tensed, she puts the edge of her bucket to her right cheek, bends and

lets the water run down her face. It streams into a thousand sparkling pearls

that splatter into a sunburst on the ground. The cool water on her skin, the

translucent ribbon twirling to the ground -- this is 's world.

>

>With a birdlike shriek, throws back her head, shudders and smiles. Her

arms are bent, wing-like. She has a few tiny rocks clutched in one hand, a small

toy wedged in the crook of her arm. She pours from a standing, then a crouching,

position. She runs a few feet and pours again, letting the water slide down the

side of a lawn chair or splatter onto a rock, then looks up, shudders and

smiles.

>

> does not speak. She is learning to nod her head " yes, " an effort that

rocks her whole body forward. She can make the sign for " open " by flattening her

palms and pulling them apart. But when she wants to go outside, the sign she has

made a hundred times before suddenly eludes her. She stands at the door making

the sign for " candy, " twisting her finger into her cheek. She signs candy,

candy, candy, with one hand. Her body tense, her face contorted, she clenches

her other hand in frustration and pinches 's arm. " Say `open,' .

Ohhhh-pen, " pleads.

>

> lost all of her words -- Mama, Papa, An-do (for ) -- on the day she

became autistic. But listen closely. In the constant stream of chirps and coos,

sighs and squeals, you might hear a word. Or think you do. They come in breathy

whispers. Standing in front of the sliding glass door, musters a

body-trembling " Ohh. " For open? On the trampoline, someone hears " Jump! "

points to a hole in 's pants. " , you have a hole! " looks up,

wide-eyed: " I do? "

>

>Last year, was having violent fits. On the bad days, teachers would count

60 pinching, biting or kicking incidents before the last bell rang. Sweazey and

teaching aide Loma Amore push up their sleeves to show tiny scars on their

forearms. " Sitting? Forget it, " Sweazey says. " You'd try to get her to sit, and

she'd yell. " This year, can sit for five minutes at a time. Put a rubber

pegboard in front of her, and she'll start pushing the pegs in on her own.

>

>

>Schooling and education are not the same thing. Schools are a business having

very little to do with education. ~ Gatto

>

>

>To leave the world a little bit better, whether by a healthy child,a garden

patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know that even one life has breathed

easier because you have lived: This is to have succeeded ! ~ Stanley

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

>>Can anyone give me more info on Apraxia...I REALLY think has

some form of it or another.>>

Go to www.apraxia-kids.org ---best website on childhood apraxia on

the internet, IMO...

You can also get good information on how sensory dysfunction impacts

motor planning in the book, " SenseAbilities " , by Ann Trott.

Raena

[Guest guest]

> > Putter was always different. Enrique was always different.

> >

> > Salli

Mikey, too.

> , too. He was the first baby my family and the nurses had

> EVER seen who REFUSED to be swaddled. Sensory issues from, quite

> literally, Day One.

Mikey was the opposite. Had to be swaddled, had to be held, had to nurse

constantly. The first time I nursed him, he stayed on one side for 30

minutes with no sign of coming off. Finally the nurse came in & said, " I

think he's done... "

But -- sensory issues from, quite literally, Day One.

-Sara.

[Guest guest]

Wow, interesting article.

I can't imagine having more than one...let alone 3! I love her view on

'miracles' though.

I can't say though, that I can pinpoint 'when' Mitchel became autistic.. Looking

back, there were clues since he was an infant.

Kerri

Fw: [spectrumSupport] Fw: 's Little Miracles:

Life with Three Autistic Kids

How many of you here on this list had children turn autistic almost from one

minute to the next? I do know some who felt it happened that way, usually

because of a vaccination, but this article describes it as just incredibly

sudden.

Salli

>

http://www.gopbi.com/partners/pbpost/epaper/editions/sunday/accent_c38330b107cc9\

16a1052.html

>

> Dennis Debbaudt

> Port St. Lucie,. Florida

> http://www.policeandautism.cjb.net

>

LAURA'S little miracles

By Colleen Mastony, Palm Beach Post Staff Writer

Sunday, January 6, 2002

didn't know what autism

was 10 years ago, when her first child was born.

By age 1, wasn't answering to his name.

could stand behind him and yell, " ! "

But the boy wouldn't flinch.

didn't babble. He rarely even cried.

thought he was deaf.

She took to the doctor, but the doctor was perplexed. Tests showed

that 's hearing was normal. Maybe he'll grow out of it, the doctor

suggested. Months later, in July of 1993, went to a new physician. The

doctor greeted her, took one look at and said, " How long ago was your

son diagnosed with autism? "

" What's autism? " asked. She was 8 months pregnant.

Doctors assured that her second child would be normal. They didn't know

preliminary studies indicated the disorder might be genetic. was thrilled

when her second boy, , began saying his first words -- " Mama " and " Dada. "

was sure the doctors were right.

[Guest guest]

Yes, it does make you thankful for what you DO have. I don't have it as I

imagined, but am grateful Mitchel has speech and is in school.

And just read the writing on his new baseball mitt just gave him!!!!!!!!

Kerri

Re: Fw: [spectrumSupport] Fw: 's Little

Miracles: Life with Three Autistic Kids

> 1. Thank you, universe, luck, random act of kindness, that my child is

high-functioning. Thank you for the life I have, the life my child has, and

the life that, on good days, we can look forward to with anticipation.

Well, I don't know if Putter is high functioning or not, at least not yet,

but it is my opinion that he will be one day, but YEAH to what you said.

Putter is much better off than her kids and he is younger than her youngest.

SO grateful.

>

>

> 2. " on the day she became autistic " You all *know* I have a problem with

that.

>

I do too, but, if it is what she saw? I just don't know. It seems so

strange to me.

Putter was always different. Enrique was always different.

Salli