A Few Of My Favorite Things

Last week Idgie and I went to hear a reading by one of my favorite authors, Tom Spanbauer. He's a local Portland author, and it's always lovely to spend an evening with him. He has a wonderful, calm reading voice, and his fiction is gorgeous. He also tells amazing, riveting stories that are often intensely personal, and he's just a plain old nice guy. When I heard him read a couple of years back from his most recent novel, he walked around the room before the reading began, shaking everyone's hand and saying, "Hi, I'm Tom." Imogen was quite cooperative for the event, falling asleep as the reading began and waking up to happily stand in line to get my book signed while being adored by strangers (then she cried in the car all the way home).

Tom Spanbauer gets the honor of having written my favorite book in the world - the one I would take with me to a desert island. The novel is In the City of Shy Hunters and takes place in New York City during the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s. The story is amazing, you'll never want the characters to leave you, and Mr. Spanbauer's writing style is not like anything you've ever read before, I guarantee. I can't recommend the book highly enough.

While I'm on the subject of favorites, I also recommend every last word ever written by poet Naomi Shihab Nye. I attended a week-long women's writing retreat with Naomi in 1995, and she has been my favorite poet and personal hero ever since. Naomi is one of the most genuine, kind, and talented women you could ever know. In her presence, you'll feel like an old friend, and you'll want to talk to her for days and days. She's written countless poems, as well as essays, children's books, young adult fiction, and songs. Every one is remarkable.

And I must show you these photos of my two favorite people. This is Elliot at 5 months old and Imogen at 7 months old, wearing the very same hat.


This will probably be my last April post, so in honor of Autism Awareness Month, I want to give one final shout out to Elliot's preschool (and all educators and specialists out there who are helping children on the spectrum). I can't say thank you enough for everything they've done for Elliot. You can read more about Elliot's amazing school, School of Autism, here. And if you are interested in supporting the school with a monetary donation (they still need all kinds of supplies and funds for the addition of grades 1-2 in the fall), or by buying a T-shirt or a copy of the film that was made for the auction, you can do that here (your donation is tax-deductible!). The film was created by Peter Fuhrman of zodbox, and he did an amazing job. Elliot saw the film for the first time yesterday and immediately requested when it ended, "You want to watch that again!".

And, since April is also National Poetry Month, I thought I'd offer up a teaser for a chapbook I'm working on. It's a series of 40 short poems, one for each week of pregnancy. I started the series while pregnant with Elliot and continued it during my pregnancy with Imogen. I still have a few more poems to write before it is complete. Here are three of my favorites from the series, one for each trimester.

5 weeks

This is the week the heart starts
beating. Little bird, little lizard,

little princess pea. Small round
stairway of spine. Small cleft

body. Small ache in my belly.
Everything moves over –

my insides rearrange. The heart
starts beating. My insides rearrange.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2003, all rights reserved.


23 weeks

Little nymph, your skin is like
dragonfly wings. Everything

below is visible, illuminated
through your shimmering limbs.

Your blood travels in quick rivers
beside trees of bones.

Your heart is a small, red poppy
fluttering in a field of rain.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2007, all rights reserved.


34 weeks

Little person, we are almost ready.
I am preparing for the suckling,

you are standing back like a painter
from the canvas, adding a brushstroke

here, a whorl of color there. We bulge
under the veil, anticipate the viewing.

Then we can touch each other’s artful
lines, open our eyes and stare, and stare.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2007, all rights reserved.

Finally, I want to leave you with a story that my friend Christine shared with me today. Her son Jasper, 2 1/2, is good friends with Elliot.

In the name of friendship
Jasper and I were at the mall today, running errands. I told him we needed to go downstairs and he asked, "On the elevator?"
"Sure," I answered, "or the escalator. You can choose which one you'd like."
"Well, well... well... I love Elliot and he loves me. We love each other, and I'd like to take the elevator." (Pause.) "I don't want to hurt his feelings."
"By taking the escalator?"
"Yeah."
"I don't think he'd mind if you took the escalator. I don't think he'd even know."
"Well, Elliot is my friend and we love each other and I want to take the elevator."
So we did.

You can't ask for a better pal than that.

Grand Central Station

It's been Grand Central Station around here these last few days. On Thursday, Bubba Joe and P. came to visit for a long weekend. They're currently on an airplane headed back to Colorado, and we miss them already! We started our fun-filled weekend with lots of playing.


On Friday we headed to OMSI, the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, to see the dinosaur exhibit on loan from a museum in China and to play in the fabulous science playground. After tearing Elliot away from the two very cool elevators, he had a great time exploring. Here he is playing in the sandbox, more evidence of the enormous progress he has made since starting at School of Autism a year ago. When he started, he wouldn't get his hands or feet dirty with finger paint, sand, or anything else. Now look at him!


Saturday was the 2nd annual auction for School of Autism. It was a smashing success. We left Elliot at home to play on the trampoline with our friends Matt and Sarah while we headed to the event with Bubba Joe, P., Denny, Phyllis, Nona, Mr. Vic Victor, Papa Pat, and our friends Ellen, Mark, Kerry, and Michael. Imogen was of course the belle of the ball. Here she is "spooning" with Ellen.


The school raised more money than last year, which will go primarily towards hiring another teacher for the addition of grades 1-2 this fall. My favorite part of the auction was the film that was shown, highlighting the kids at the school and its mission. It was a real tear-jerker (and money raiser!). The live auction was great, the food was super yummy, and the company was wonderful. Here are Nona and Mr. Vic Victor living it up.


I'd personally like to thank everyone who came to the auction with us and made generous donations to the school. It means so much to us to have your support!

After the big shindig, we spent Sunday relaxing in the lovely spring weather. We hung out with the kids and the birds in the backyard all day long. Here are Bubba Joe and P. loving up Imogen.



We had several friends stop by to visit on Sunday, as well. Our good pals Nic, Kristen, and Japhy stopped in on their way back to Seattle. Elliot loves baby Japhy, who is now 10 months old.


And here are Nic and Thomas being their silly selves with Pippin and Joey.


We spent the last part of the day revamping the chicken coop to accommodate a duck and moved Joey and Pippin permanently into their new digs with Dixie. Everyone made it through the night, so the newly-formed flock is a success. Here are the birds hanging out in the yard and with their proud fowl papa.


And here is more evidence of the progress Elliot is making with his social skills with other kids. Here he is taking his friend Soren to see if Dixie has laid an egg yet.


Whew, what a weekend! Elliot especially had a great time, since he loves to be outside. Here he is modeling his super duper new Crocs (much to the approval of Bubba Joe and P., who swear by the things!).


And things won't be slowing down around here anytime soon! Thomas's brother Mike arrived back in town last night, we have friends visiting from San Francisco this week, and Nana and Atman are due to arrive in a couple of weeks. Woo hoo! Let the season of gorgeous weather and visitors begin!

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

Elliot has loved trucks and trains from the time he started spinning wheels, and he lives for a good wrestle with his Papa. But he's never been the kind of boy who sword fights with sticks, throws rocks at cats, or wallops another boy on the head. Elliot has his fair share of snips, but as for the snails and puppy dog tails, our sweet boy is more puppy dog eyes (he does feed the snails to the chicken, however). And he adores the sugar and spice and everything nice side of humanity.

Elliot loves little girls. There are two of them at fun school, Fiona and Michaela. Both girls are a couple of years younger than Elliot, and he loves them like the sun and moon. He gives them big kisses and hugs, leads them around by the hands, and curls up next to them on the overstuffed chair. It would melt your heart to see. Today when I left him at school he was pushing Michaela on the swing and jumping up and down with glee. Here he is trying to smooch Fiona.



One downside to the aspect of autism in which individuals have trouble reading social cues is that these kids are easy targets for bullies. But they are also often very compassionate, sensitive human beings. Elliot loves Imogen as much as every other little girl at school (more, of course!), as you can see here.


Sometimes he loves her too much...


I'm really enjoying watching Elliot and Imogen develop their sibling relationship. I always wanted a big brother myself, and I hope that Elliot will be a loving, protective, admired big brother. And while I hope Imogen has enough spunk to fight back when her brother invades her space (she seems pretty feisty so far!), I also hope that she will be a compassionate sister and an advocate for her older brother as they grow up. I hope their love and loyalty is mutual.

I have heroes that I hope both kids will grow up to be even a tiny bit like. For Elliot, I hope he will be as sweet, confident, and smart as my friend Ellen's son Bryce, who is also on the spectrum. Elliot is already an amazing kid, so I have no doubt he's going to be an amazing adult. For Imogen, I hope she will be as passionate, eloquent, and loving as Donilee McGinnis, who was Miss Oregon 2006. Ms. McGinnis has a brother on the spectrum, and she spoke at the auction for Elliot's school last spring. She was very inspiring and is an intelligent and poised young woman. She told us about how the only reason she entered the pageant was so that she could make autism awareness her platform if she won.

Whatever they become, I know both Elliot and Imogen are going to be incredible people. I'm horribly biased, but I already think they're the best two kiddos in the world.

Lights Out

Some days make you appreciate the little things in life. Yesterday, our power was out from 12:45pm until 9:45pm after a bird took down a transformer a few blocks from our house. If you're having dinner with your sweetheart and you have a fireplace, a power outage might make for a romantic evening. If you have young children, an outage might be an adventure now that the TV is off and you have to find flashlights when it starts to get dark. But on a chilly day in Portland when you have an infant with a cold and a preschooler with autism, a power outage is a real pain in the tukus. And I'm sure the bird wasn't having a good day, either.

Luckily, the kids and I had finished making lunch and drying the bedsheets before the power went out. And we were out of the house for speech therapy for a couple of hours in the afternoon. But when we were home, Elliot was more than a little upset when I couldn't cook him a quesadilla (with a corn tortilla and rice cheese, of course), we couldn't look at videos and photos on the computer, and his beloved bedside digital clock didn't work. Thankfully we had Imogen to entertain us. And a fire in the wood stove when Papa got home with Burgerville for dinner (sans bun, of course). And Elliot loved the indiglo travel alarm clock I let him take to bed with him.

So maybe it was an adventure after all. It could have been worse. It could have been American Idol night. And Thomas and I sat by the woodstove and talked after Elliot went to bed while Imogen snoozed in the firelight.

And at least the power outage didn't happen yesterday, when we had our friends Michael and Tracy over for dinner. They are expecting a baby next month. Here's Tracy balancing Imogen on her 8-month belly.


Now back to catching up on all that email I missed while the power was out!

The New Calling Cards

I started a monthly book/topic discussion group for mothers a few years ago, and we met yesterday. Whether or not we stay on topic, it's always nice to have a chance to hang out in a coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon without kids (well, except for babes-in-arms), sip a warm drink and munch on a cookie, and talk to other moms. Now that I have a nursing infant again, this monthly discussion group is one of the few times I see my mama friends.

I realized as I was leaving the group yesterday that even though I only see these women once a month, I feel like I know what's going on in their lives on a daily basis. I feel this way because we all have blogs, and we all read each other's blogs. And leave comments on each other's blogs. I've decided that comments on blogs are the new calling cards. It's like having a virtual visit. Not as good as face-to-face, but still. When you're home with kids all day, it's nice to have an escape, if only one via technology. (BTW, links to the blogs of these wonderful women friends of mine are to the left under the "My Friends' Blogs" heading, so check them out!)

In other news, Imogen loves hanging out in her highchair now, even if all she's eating is the table.


We're now towards the end of Autism Awareness Month, so here's my two cents for today. There are pros and cons of a dedicated awareness month for any issue. Pro: raising awareness and educating people about said issue. Con: it's only one month. As a friend of mine says, shouldn't every month be autism awareness month? I have to agree. But I do want to say that I appreciate the extra attention that autism receives in April each year.

I think one of the most challenging things about being a parent of a child with autism is trying to explain to someone who doesn't know or live with an individual with autism what it's like when you do. I certainly don't have the time or the energy to explain things to the cashier at the grocery check out or the librarian giving my loud son the evil eye, but what I find more difficult is explaining the issue to friends - those people who are well-intentioned and love my son.

And it's not answering questions about autism or Elliot's progress that's the problem. It's figuring out how to respond to comments such as, "but he seems just fine," or, "you'd never know from looking at him," or, "well, all kids do that." These comments, offered I have no doubt with love and reassurance, are loaded. First, they imply that he's broken or that there's something wrong with him, which is a controversial issue in the autism world unto itself. Second, they completely negate the exhausting and challenging daily life that is parenting a child on the spectrum. Finally, they imply that the person making the statement knows something either we or one of Elliot's many specialists and caregivers don't know about our son, and that all of us who spend hours a day with Elliot are somehow mistaken about him being on the spectrum in the first place.

None of these implications are the intentions of the people offering the comments, I know. These are people I love and whose company I enjoy. I think the problem is that to someone only spending brief periods of time with a child on the spectrum, especially one who is high functioning (in that he is verbal, makes good eye contact, is affectionate, etc.), the disorder can seem invisible. I would guess this is also the case with mental illness. But can you imagine saying to someone whose child has a heart defect or some other physical condition, "but he seems just fine"? So, I feel that the more the general public learns about autism and how it affects the individual on the spectrum as well as the family members who love and care for that individual, the better. And not so that we'll receive their pity, because we love our son just the way he is, but so that we'll have their educated support.

So, come call on us. We love the company, and Elliot would love to take you on a virtual elevator ride.

You Are What You Eat

One of Elliot's favorite pastimes these days is playing on the computer. Flatteringly, he loves this blog. He likes to click on the pictures to enlarge them and to watch the videos. He's also learning to type at fun school. His teacher told me this week that he was typing the words "Safeway", "Smart Park garage", "Papa's office", and "Chipotle", which seemed strange to her until I explained that those are places he goes on his weekend elevator adventures downtown with Papa. Elliot has also been showing Imogen the computer (start 'em young!). Here is Imogen sitting on Elliot's lap and looking at pictures on the monitor.



Elliot also likes to help Mama and Papa get ready in the morning and to copy us. Here he is "shaving" with Papa.



Today I wanted to update y'all on our progress with the gluten-free, casein-free (GFCF) diet. Elliot has been on the diet for just over a month now. It can take up to six months for gluten to completely clear the system, but I do think we're seeing some changes. There is of course no way to tell for certain if what we're seeing is diet-related, a result of the B-12 and other supplements he is receiving, regular developmental progress, or some combination of all of these things. But a large percentage of kids on the autism spectrum benefit from a GFCF diet, so I have no doubt it's playing a big role.

The frequency of Elliot's meltdowns has decreased, and he is engaging in more pretend play. He is also offering comments about the world around him as well as giving me information when I ask questions, both of which are new aspects of his communication and language skills. He is starting to tell me what he did at school and asking questions about things he sees or what we're reading in books. He is also starting to try more foods and is overall eating much better (though he's still very picky!).

We've recently purchased The Kid-Friendly ADHD and Autism Cookbook by Pamela Compart, which is full of GFCF recipes and was recommended by our naturopath. Everything in it looks delicious, and I can't wait to try it out.

Now I'm off to rest with Imogen (we both have rotten colds). Elliot is over his cold - he was hardly even phased. That boy has endless energy!

Farm Girl Wannabe

I wish I could show you in a picture or video what it's like to wander out to your backyard chicken coop on a misty Oregon morning and hold a warm egg in your hand, fresh from the hen. I'm more city girl than country, but I do love gathering eggs. With my love of horses and all the stray or injured animals I took in as a girl (including a pigeon (!) - I have very patient parents), I think I would have loved being a farm girl. I wouldn't choose it as an adult profession (backyard city chickens are just right for me), but being raised on a farm would have suited me well.

I just couldn't resist posting another set of Elliot and Imogen comparison photos. Elliot is a couple months younger than Imogen in this set, but they are making the exact same "teething" face. Pretty cute, huh?



Many of you sent really nice comments about the autism poems I posted and asked for more. Here are two more that are completed, and you'll just have to wait until the rest are edited and done.

Hollows

The place in my body you used to be.
Now my heart is on the outside.

The quiet when you finally fall asleep
in my arms. If you are awake, you are crying.

The days, the months and months
of you not talking, your lack of words.

The silence after the meltdowns. We
wait out the calm for another storm.

The things you won't touch, won't
eat, won't do, won't tolerate. It is like

where we are when the birds
leave us in winter. But I remember

we planted things, we tended,
nurtured, nourished, and warmed.

The birds will come back to us.
All of this will bloom.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2007, all rights reserved.


This Way, Right Here

These are my three-year old son's
favorite phrases: this way, meaning,
do what I want you to do. And
right here, meaning, I want
that, now, exactly this way.

Every visit to the store is the same. Or rather,
needs to be the same. First, we will ride
the elevator. He likes to push
the buttons, number two, the one
with the star. When we get off, we will
go this way. Insistent pointing. Loud voice.

We will check over here. We will go
see the vacuums. We will find something
right here. He holds a baggie of crackers.
I will push the cart through the aisles, break
them into two triangles, two squares,
two diamonds. We will get in line.
He will demand a sticker.

The checker will ask his name,
and how old is he? I'll be scanning my card,
entering my code. I won't have time to explain
why he won't answer, though he knows
the answers. He will not look at her. He might
notice the letters on her name badge,
rattle off the numbers on the stands.

At home, we will unload groceries. We'll touch
the big fence, the little fence, then
the big blue sign, the little blue sign.
We'll go inside. He will take his shoes off
this way, put his hat away right here.

This way, mama. Most days, I don't mind
adjusting my route. Right here, mama.
Most times, I can interpret his want.
Then he laughs this way. Hugs me
right here. Some things are fine staying
the same, the same, the same.
This way. Right here.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2007, all rights reserved.


And finally, let me hear from you! I know y'all are out there reading, so leave me some comments, already! I love comments. Let me know what you like and what you'd like to see more of - I'll oblige! Now I'm off to pick up Elliot and try not to think about taxes...

Closer to One

Imogen is 7 months old today. She is now officially closer to one year old than birth. Go, girlie! And now for my favorite part of the month - the comparison photos of Elliot and Imogen at 7 months old. Imogen is even sporting her first barrette, which Papa styled for her.


Today in honor of Autism Awareness Month I'd like to give y'all my recommendations for some interesting books on the subject. Of course make sure to check out everything by Ellen Notbohm, which I highlighted in my first post this month. I would also like to point you to the following books:

Expecting Teryk, by Dawn Prince-Hughes. It is written by a lesbian with autism and is the journal of her partner's pregnancy and the birth of their son. It is beautifully written and gives insight into what it is like to be an adult with autism as well as discussing the issue of disability and parenthood.

Thinking in Pictures, by Temple Grandin. Ms. Grandin is an adult with autism best known for her design of the most humane slaughterhouses possible.

I also plan to read a book that was recommended by friends, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Mark Haddon. It's a novel told in the voice of a 15-year old boy with autism. I can't vouch for it myself yet, but it's supposed to be quite good.

Now I'm off to pick up Elliot from his second day of preschool with teacher Jessica. He was a little sad about going today, but hopefully when I get there I'll find he had a wonderful time.

Sun, Sun, Sun, Here It Comes

We've had a wonderful, warm weekend here in Portland. The rains are due to return tomorrow, but it's been great to bask in the sun for the past couple of days. It was about 75 degrees on Saturday - well above normal. On Friday, it was so gorgeous that Thomas left work early to come home to play with the kids. We all hung out in the yard, and Imogen donned her first sun hat.



We even brought Joey and Pippin out into the yard for the first time (it will be about a month before they are old enough to move outside into the coop).


They loved roaming the yard together, even if Dixie wouldn't give them the time of day. She was too busy eating the bugs that Elliot was finding for her under the stones of our footpath.



We think we've figured out what breeds both the chick and the duck are, based on the feathers that they now have (we should know for sure in a few more weeks). Our best guesses are that the duck is a Buff Orpington and the chick is a Light Brahma.

Thomas has been in San Francisco this weekend for a meeting of Burning Man staff (he's the personnel manager for the Rangers, a group that sort of "keeps the peace" at the event), so the kids and I have been making adventures for ourselves. On Saturday we took at walk at Oaks Bottom wildlife refuge with Nancy and Vic. The last time I was there was when we were trying to sell Denny and Phyllis on moving to Portland a few years ago (it wasn't a hard sell!), and it is a bird watcher's paradise. It was too hot and too late in the afternoon to see many birds, but Elliot had a great time, and Imogen slept through her first hike in the backpack.

Today the kids and I participated in the Autism Society of Oregon's annual walk-a-thon. We had a great time hanging out with some of Elliot's friends from school and his teachers. There were hundreds of people there - a fabulous turnout. I haven't had any involvement with this group in the past, but I know they do wonderful things for families in Oregon with members on the spectrum, so I imagine we'll continue to get involved in the future.

We hope everyone had a wonderful weekend. Come home soon, Papa!

Schoolhouse Talk

Elliot started doing double duty for preschool this week. Y'all have heard me sing the praises of School of Autism numerous times. Elliot has been attending SOA for almost a year now, three mornings a week. In addition, he has been receiving services at home from the Multnomah Early Childhood Program, or MECP, which is through the public schools. His case manager at MECP recently talked us into trying out one of their preschool classrooms again (it was a disaster the first time, but that was over a year ago). This time, the classroom is at Lee Elementary.

This week, Elliot went to visit "teacher Jessica's" classroom after hours to get a feel for the place, and he had a great time playing with Jessica and getting the lay of the land. Most popular were the musical instruments and the "dramatic play" area. Here he is playing dress up and serving a snack to Jessica.


Also popular was the giant button that opens the handicap access door. A dream for a boy who loves to push elevator buttons!


Elliot attended teacher Jessica's class for the first time yesterday, and he did great. As promised, Mama stayed and blended into the woodwork until he was comfortable, which was almost immediately. I ended up staying for an hour of the 2 1/4 hour session, and then Elliot was a big boy champ and stayed the rest of the time by himself. He says he likes the class, so hopefully he'll be excited to go back on Monday. He'll attend the MECP class 2 days a week, on the days he's not at SOA. The class is half typical peers and half kids with special needs, mostly on the autism spectrum.

My topic today in honor of autism awareness month is mainstreaming. Mainstreaming is the term used for including kids with special needs in a regular classroom instead of a "special ed" classroom. We are currently undecided on this point. Our plan right now is to keep Elliot at SOA for as long as he is successful there. He will start in their kindergarten class in the fall, and he'll spend two years there. The school is going to be starting grades 1-2 in the fall as well, and is in the process of becoming an alternative school. This status will make the school part of the public education system (and tuition-free!), and they plan to continue adding elementary grades. As long as Elliot continues to thrive at SOA academically and socially, we see no reason to mainstream him.

An advantage of mainstreaming is more exposure to "typical" peers and opportunities to learn from them. However, this same exposure can be a negative, since kids on the spectrum are often easy targets for bullies and can have difficulty making friends. Ultimately, we'll see what Elliot wants and where he is happiest and doing the best. For now, we have no plans to leave SOA, even though we are also sending Elliot to the MECP class (which is not at our neighborhood elementary school, Rigler.) We'll keep everyone posted!

And of course y'all will want an update on the birdies. Thomas gave Joey a bath this week, and s/he was crying pitifully for Pippin the whole time. So Thomas came up with an impromptu boat for Pippin so she could keep Joey company. Here is the result, followed by a happy post-bath time dry off session.



Never a dull moment around here.

Talk Is Cheep (Cheep, Cheep)

It seems like Joey the duck triples in size each night while we're sleeping. S/he is big and fluffy and happy and getting what appear to be brown feathers, so maybe we won't have just a garden variety, white, Pekin duck, after all. Pippin is also filling out nicely with white, black, and brown feathers. We still don't know what breed she is yet, but she does appear to be staying female. Here's a current photo of the two birdie pals, and if you look closely, you can see Pippin's fun leg feathers.


The two feathered friends cheep happily to each other all day, in chorus with Imogen's new found skill at babbling, which you can listen to here.



The three of them babbling and chirping all day reminded me of a great interview I heard on NPR's Fresh Air a few years back about how baby birds babble parts of their parents' songs just like human babies learn to talk by babbling first. You can listen to the interview here. The part about babbling is about 7 minutes in if you don't have time to listen to the whole piece.

All this babbling (joined of course by Elliot's non-stop narration of elevator rides and Blues Clues) also made me think about Amanda Baggs, a woman with autism who is changing the way people think about individuals with autism. You can watch her amazing video of herself, In My Language, here. Ms. Baggs is nonverbal and uses a computer to narrate what is going on in her head while she goes through her self-soothing behaviors in the video.

Which just goes to show you, it's near impossible to know what's going on inside someone's head - who's in there - if you don't speak his or her language, be it a baby bird, an infant, or a person with autism. That's one reason I really like one of the new catch phrases out there about autism, which is "Autism: it's not like you think".

Going Up?

Elliot always seems to have one main interest that becomes his singular focus (or obsession!). In recent months it has been pretending to be Mel the dog from Jack's Big Music Show peeking out on the credits (which became every mirror and doorway), then it was acting out episodes of Blue's Clues. Currently it's pretending that everything is an elevator. We can't change floors in the house or move from room to room without pretending to push a button and waiting for the elevator to ding and open its doors for us. This obsession is equal parts charming and annoying. Here's the charming part - Elliot posing next to his masking tape, pretend elevator buttons in our basement stairwell.


About a year ago, Elliot's obsession was road signs. This interest corresponded with my time at Soapstone writer's retreat for women. One of the projects I worked on while there was a series of poems about raising a child on the autism spectrum. Today, in honor of national autism awareness month, I'd like to highlight some of my favorite creative writing on the subject of autism. Of course, I'll need to start with myself. Here is one of the poems I wrote at Soapstone, which used Elliot's interest in road signs (this poem also appears in Ellen Notbohm's book, as mentioned in a post earlier this month).


Signs

My three-year old can name
any sign on the road. He knows
the letters, shapes, colors.
If we are walking, he likes to touch
the weathered faces, wrap his fingers
around the posts, name and rename.

STOP
Some days, I feel sunk in cement.
I can't move my feet, can't see
past the rain in my eyes. The world
approaches, stares, leaves us behind.
We perseverate together - he recites
the letters again and again.
S.T.O.P. No instructions
for which way to turn.

YIELD
The road moves in to meet us. Hands
on the wheel, I resist taking my turn.
I'm afraid if we merge, we'll be stuck
in this traffic forever. We'll never
get home. Someone honks. I inch forward,
check the blind spots, shift gears.

NO U-TURN
We wouldn't go back even if we could.
We have navigated dodgy side streets,
gotten lost, asked for directions. Used
up a profusion of fuel. We've sat in
noisy intersections, wound down quiet
roads. He points ahead. This way.

ONE WAY
Forget about the map. We memorized
its lines, then left it at the rest stop
three states back. This is only one direction,
one arrow, and he wants to see
them all. Left turn, right turn, two-way
traffic, curve. We might go around the block.
We might drive for miles and miles.

BUMPS
We spend a lot of time with this sign.
It's one of his favorites - we see
it on our daily walk. We know
its shape, its angles, its warning face. But
the road between us and the playground
in in constant flux. Broken glass, a new
flower, bees. And always, he must
touch this sign before we can go home.

CONSTRUCTION AHEAD
We might be here awhile. Expect delays.
Or maybe it's Sunday and the workers
have the day off, the road signs are pushed
to the side. But we're curious. What
are they buliding? Does it have scaffolding,
are they tearing up the street? When
we round the next corner, will there be
a road block, a detour, a flagger waving
us through? I look back at him.
Green light. Go.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2007, all rights reserved


And one more for you (there are more in the works, so hopefully you'll see them in print someday!).

Ecolalia

My late-talking son is talking
all the time now, a nonstop flow of syllables
and phrases that come out the same every time.
Broken record doesn't even begin to tell the story.
My life with him is a soundtrack of repetition.

The word itself is lovely, ecolalia,
and reminds me of bats. How they find insects
in the dark. And each other. Instinctual,
utterly important. Echolocation.
This is how I see my son's language.
He's finding us in the dark, he's showing us
where he is.

He offers phrases from his favorite books
as greeting, conversation.
On Thursday he ate through four strawberries.
A comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush.
And when he woke up, he found it was true.
And they went out together into the deep, deep snow.

And what if we all listened this intently?
What if we remembered what was said?
Repeated ourselves until we got a response?
Until we heard our own words
echoed back to us?

To fight discouragement, to tell myself that someday
he will say he loves me, to imagine the conversations
we will have, I try to think of his words as heartbeats.
A rhythm that is essential, utterly important.
The sound he is using to find his way out.
The sound that keeps us alive. The sound that ties me
to him, beat for beat, and word for word.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2007, all rights reserved

(Italicized lines are from The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle, Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown, George Shrinks by William Joyce, and The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats, respectively.)


I'd also like to recommend a few other pieces of writing to you. The first is a wonderful essay by my friend Kerry Cohen, whose son is just a few months older than Elliot. "What's Wrong With This Picture?" is one of the best essays I've read by a mom on the subject of what it's like to be raising a child on the spectrum.

In the world of blogging, I'd like to point you to my favorite autism-related blog, MOM-Not Otherwise Specified. (Yes, I consider blogs creative writing!).

Finally, here is a poem by a poet named Barbara Crooker about her son with autism, called "Autism Poem: The Grid".

In other news, Imogen is now sitting unassisted. Here she is in all her big-girlness.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend. Now I'm off to get more things done around the house while Thomas and Elliot are off riding elevators downtown!

Shout Out

Tomorrow is Elliot's half-birthday - he'll be 4 1/2 years old. This milestone marks three years since he was first screened and diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum. It's been a wild, challenging, and wonderful ride so far. Today I'd like to pay tribute to all the amazing specialists who have helped Elliot and our family over the past three years.

First up is Keith Moree, Elliot's incredible speech therapist at Kaiser. Keith was on the original team that evaluated Elliot, and he connected with Elliot and seemed to "get" him from the moment they met. When it came time to choose an SLP for Elliot, I refused to see anyone but Keith. He has helped bring Elliot from where he was at two years old - when he only said a handful of words and didn't point or gesture - to where we are now, as he talks non-stop (we're not sure if this is a good or a bad thing some days!). Much of Elliot's speech is still ecolalic, which means he repeats words or phrases from books, TV shows, or that others have taught him, but he does use those phrases appropriately. More and more, he gains his own original language, and his communication skills have grown exponentially. We can't thank Keith enough for the role he has played in Elliot's life.


I'd also like to thank Kim Rathbun, who worked with Elliot as an occupational therapist in the area of feeding therapy and oral sensory issues. We saw her for six months at NeuroTherapeutics. She made incredible progress with Elliot in a very short time in the areas of trying new foods, accepting new food textures, and brushing his teeth. Here is a picture of Elliot and Kim working together. He absolutely loved Kim and always looked forward to seeing her.


Next I'd like to thank Dave Andrews, with the early intervention program at the Portland Public Schools. Dave was Elliot's case manager and speech therapist from the time he was diagnosed until he turned three. Elliot dubbed him "Friend Dave", and he and Elliot got along famously. Dave helped Elliot with all sorts of speech and other issues and was also invaluable to me in learning about autism and navigating the services offered by the public schools. I remember the last time Dave visited Elliot at home (kids start in a preschool class at age three instead of receiving home services), both Dave and I cried when he left. We love you, Dave!


Even though Elliot's experience in her preschool classroom didn't work out, I'd like to thank Jackie Broderick for being a devoted advocate for Elliot. When we took him out of her classroom because he was unhappy there, Jackie came to work with Elliot at our home instead. She gained his trust and helped our family continue to receive services at home even though Elliot was of the age when the schools prefer to provide their services in the classroom. She also helped us make the transition to a new team of service providers when we moved. Thank you, Jackie!


And last but most definitely not least, I'd like to thank Sara Vanzee and Donna Bloom, Elliot's teachers at School of Autism. They are like family to Elliot, and one of the places he is happiest is at school. Elliot has made huge progress in all areas - sensory, speech, social, and academic - since starting at the school almost a year ago. I cannot say thank you long or loud enough to these amazing women who are dedicating their lives to helping children on the spectrum. We are immensely grateful to have found them. Here are a couple of pictures of Elliot enjoying himself at what he calls "fun school".



A huge thank you to all of these amazing people who have made an impact on Elliot's life and the lives of our family. I want to commend you for what you do every day and to tell you how much your love and support of Elliot means to our family. Thank you!!

Today Has Many Faces

Happy April Fool's Day! My favorite thing about April Fool's Day is the annual spoof news story on NPR. I haven't heard today's yet, but I can't wait! But here's a little something that's for real - it's Nancy napping with our new birdies!


Today is also the birthday of our dear friend Nic and was my Gramp's birthday. Happy Birthday!

And, today is Rabbit Day. What's Rabbit Day, you say? Well, as my Gran used to tell us, on the first day of every month, if you say, "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" and then jump off the end of your bed when you wake up, you can make a wish and it will come true. Check out the link above for a different take on the superstition.

And if that weren't enough, today is also the first day of national Autism Awareness Month. To that end, each of my blog entries this month will highlight a different topic on autism that is of interest to our family. Today I'd like to recommend to everyone the wonderful and invaluable books of my dear friend, Ellen Notbohm.

Ellen and I met almost exactly a year ago at Soapstone, a writer's retreat for women near the Oregon coast. We became instant friends, and I am daily thankful for her presence in my life. Here we are on our last day at Soapstone, posing outside the wood shed.

Ellen's books about raising a child on the autism spectrum, written from a parent's perspective, are some of the best books out there on the subject, in my opinion. For those of you interested in better understanding the children in your lives with autism, I highly recommend reading Ten Things Every Child With Autism Wishes You Knew. And I also can't praise highly enough Ellen's new book of essays, The Autism Trail Guide: Postcards from the Road Less Traveled (and if y'all read the "Forward" at the end, you'll find a little something by yours truly). Ellen is one of the most amazing women and mothers I have ever met, and I hope you all get a chance to meet her someday.

Finally, here is Miss Imogen in all her spring cuteness, and Elliot having a blast with Joey and Pippin.




Now get out there and play a practical joke on someone! Tee hee!