Da Boys

Da Boys
Eating Old Fashioned Candy on the Banks of the Mississippi

A blog about the poetic adventures of two curly haired and boys...and Autism.

This blog was started after many friends told me I should keep a journal of my daily activities with my two sons. Our days are usually filled with fun details, sometimes some sad ones but when you have a child diagnosed with Autism.....there is always Adventure!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Why is she watching?

Since I decided to start taking care of myself last year, I have been walking everyday..unless it's 100 degrees like this week into town with Da Boys. We always hit one of our two haunts. Einsteins.... for large sugared sprinkle cookies...or my personal fave, Starbucks....so I can get a peppermint mocha...and the kids can get whatever treat they have in the case that day.

This is the story of a trip to the latter.

86 degrees but with a breeze. "That's workable" she thinks. With two ABA (applied behavioral analysis) sessions down she starts to prep two curly haired boys to take to the streets. With cool clothes, layers of sunblock, canteens of water and fantastic sunhats they leave out their backdoor all excited to get out of the house and looking dang stylish while doing it! The trek is oppressive even with the little breeze that encircles them every few feet. The two curly haired boys don't care, they are ready to run, ready for adventure and ready for a good hit of sugar! She keeps asking "Are you okay?" with concern in her voice. She doesn't want a trip to the ER due to heat related illness. The oldest says "Yes, Mommy." The youngest...well...he's still trying to break free of her tight grip to run up and down the hills on private property. He loves green grass and cares not who owns it.

They finally make it to their destination. As she begins to order she leans down and tells them, "Go sit." They giggle and go do what she says while pulling off their bright colored bucket hats and exposing their sweat drenched curls to the cool air.

But something is amiss.
Someone is sitting in "their spot"!
They stop!
They don't know what to do!
They look back at her confused!

She looks up from paying for their goodies and realizes that this could be a problem. And quickly...it does!

Though the place is filled with people, it's sooooooooo quiet. As if they had stepped into a library, not a coffee house. The people are all involved in their laptops, their books, their java and all of them are at least 20 to 30 years older than these loud and now confused curly, haired boys.

All of the sudden.... she feels insecure. "Just sit over there", she says pointing to a table by the window and trying to keep her voice low but loud enough for her little ones to hear. They don't get it and try to sit right next to all the people trying to focus. The oldest one decides he does not like the chair arrangements and begins dragging the heavy wooden chairs across the rough tile floor.


The chair bellows as his little hands pull.

In an instant, he is the center of attention. Everyone looks up from their projects...

At him then....

At her! She feels herself dying a little inside.

She gets their goodies and while trying to keep her composure, quickly gathers the curly haired boys like ducklings and scurries them over to the table by the window.

They voraciously devour their treat. She thinks all is well, until the little one decides that he needs to run again.
Again the chairs......


One lady leers from her cell phone conversation. "Oh God!", their mother thinks as her cheeks flush red. The lady looks away and resumes her conversation.
The little one is restless. He's acting like there are wings attached to his rear but he still comes over every time his mother asks and tries to kiss his way out of trouble as if to say..."Ma!....it's all good!"

But she is so worried that their presence is disturbing the rest of the store that she grabs him and sits him on her lap. That doesn't hold him... all 2 1/2 years and 33 lbs. of juicy-ness! He flings backward on her lap in hopes of getting tickled and peels of laughter echo in the rafters.

The lady sitting next to them gets up. Puts her laptop in her bag and walks over to the table.

"Here it comes!", their mother thinks. You can physically see her brace herself to the chair.

The lady speaks.

Their mother's mind...........Runs!

"I'm going to have to justify his behavior. I'm going have to tell her that he has autism... I'm gonna...I'm gonna...I'm gonna........."
The lady's words finally permeate through the scenarios simultaneously playing in her head.

"I just had to tell you," she said, "your children are just gorgeous! They look like angels. Their hair!!!! just like in a painting!"

The curly haired boys' mother sits dumbstruck but manages to get out the words "Thank you" ,as the lady walks away.

The adventurers finish their treats and with their fabulous hats leave to trudge back home. Their mother has a long walk back to think about how she shouldn't judge before she knows what is going on and more importantly....how she should never justify to anyone the joy and happiness of her two curly haired boys.

Friday, June 11, 2010

The Cowboy

After a disruptive night's sleep, the cowboy mosies on up to the table for his morning grub in preparation for a long day on the range.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Soup Du Jour

So intent he is,
running into the kitchen.
In a second she'll notice something is missin'.

He quickly leaves and quiet ensues
She fears that sound.
She's seen what it can do.

"Where are you?", she cries.
But hears nothing back.
Yeah... she knows
This could be really bad.

To his favorite haunt
She immediately flees.
Her mind racing with
Thoughts of what it might be.

She brushes back the door
and in an instant





She screams.

He looks up from his concoction
Pleased with himself
his smile beams.

Into the bowl everything went
To replace everything much money was spent.
Rollers and makeup,
Toothbrushes and sponges
Thrown into the mix
With exuberant plunges.

Stirred with her spoon he
he pilfered from the kitchen
Remember... I had said
Something was missin'?

He feverishly stirred it all into the pot.
This dish got it's own kind of hot!
Seasoned by the trimmings of those
Who had gone before.
Somehow she wishes
She never had opened that door.

But he is all proud of his work.
Thinking he is a great chef
he gives her a smirk.
Though she is grossed out
by this nasty goop,

He happily serves her his
Toilet Bowl Soup!

Monday, June 7, 2010

The Perfect Evening

How do you remember a perfect evening?
When the air is sweet
and the temperature cool.
When soft breezes caress you skin
And green grasses implore you explore them.

Will we remember these days
Of running through the fields,
Of Gathering clover,
Of laying in the thick carpet
While laughing?

When the days grow shorter
and our memory fades,
Will the sight of the sun setting
Over green fields
bring us back to this day
Of Love

Or will the sun just set?

Only time will tell
If we will look back
On this perfect evening.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Story of Wednesday

So, I started this blog Wednesday in response to a very rough day. The "Second of the House of Sweet Pea" started ABA (applied behavior analysis) two weeks ago. Unfortunately because of the holiday weekend he missed out on several days of therapy. As anyone with a child diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder knows...changes like this can be horrific. I was not going to tell this story but something the "First of the House of Sweet Pea" asked me made me change my mind. He was watching "Little Einsteins", the episode with the tapestry and asked my why the "Mean Queen" was part of the show. In a rare moment of clarity I said, "Because, there wouldn't be a story without her." This was a sufficient answer for him and a revelation for me. Indeed all of our lives our have "mean" events and the whole point is to overcome the event and share the story.

I want to clarify that the women in this story are not mean people. In fact they are quite the opposite. They work tirelessly for hours on end trying to get these children who are stuck in the dark to come into the light. They get yelled at screamed at, and from the stories I heard about their experiences, bitten, scratched and scarred as well. But they always come back and celebrate when these children do well. I appreciate all that they are doing to help my child...so with that said, here is..."The Story of Wednesday".

The Story of Wednesday

He steps onto the stage.
In the round, there is nowhere to hide.
As the players surround him
You can see his hesitation.
He wants no part in this play.

I cannot go with him
I am the audience.
I cannot direct him,
Only he can deliver his lines.

The stage is set.
The play of cruelty begins.
The reward is set in front of him.
The narrator speaks,
"Tap the table", she says.
He understands and taps the table.

The reward is given.

"Tap your head" , she says
He taps the table.
"No, tap your head.", she says.

He screams.

Is this a different play?
"Tap your head.", she says.
He does not know his lines,
but reluctantly taps his head.

The reward is given.

The audience responds.
Claps and cheers
resound in jubilant support.

"Say, Ready, Set, Go!" she says.
His dark eyes light up.
He knows this play!
He knows the dialogue.
With his tiny voice and a beaming smile he says,

The audience cheers.

The reward is given.

"Tap head", she says.
"Seht..Goh!" he says.
"No, Tap Head", she says.
"Seht..Goh!" he says...

The reward is not given.

He pleads with tears streaming down his
tiny cheeks.
"Seht..Goh!", he pleads.
"No, Tap head," she responds.

The audience is getting nervous.

The dialogue loops,
like a scratch in a record,
It goes back again,
And again,
And again.
The narrator will not go on.
He must do the acting.
To get the reward he must
follow the blocking.
"Seht..Goh!!! he cries.

The reward is not given.

In despair he turns to his audience.
He knocks at the 4th wall.
"Seht..Goh!!!! he pleads.

The audience stirs.
Unnerved by the suspense,
She responds when she was not required.
The 4th wall, lays shattered.

"Tap,head.", the audience asks of him.
"Tap, head."

But he cannot,
He does not know the lines.
Overwhelmed with hopelessness,
His rose lips quivering,
sweat pouring from his tiny brow,
exhausted from the endless crying,
unable to catch his breath,
He looks deep into his audience's soul

And begs.


The audience can no longer bear it.
Will this drama end?
To hide wells of burning tears from his sight,
she gently lowers her face onto the table.
Her black hair spills forward
To close the curtain.

And the reward, is not given.

Treasure Hunters

On a warm summer afternoon, deep in the middle of "Suburbia",
Two curly haired boys take to the street,
In search of treasure.

The radiant sun pounds harshly down on them
But it will not bar their way.
They are protected by pockets of shade.
A soft, cool breeze
Cuts through the oppressively moist air,
Making their travels bearable.

The sweet curls upon their heads grow tighter and tighter,
Making tiny sweat drenched ringlets as they journey forth.
With each step their cheeks flush with a lush color of pink,
Like that of Peonies.

Smiling ear to ear they happily make it to their destination
And delightfully walk hand in hand to "their spot".
Patiently they sit.
For their mother to secure their treasure.

What is this prize,
That these wee boys have
Traveled so far to obtain?
As their Mother walks to their table,
She can sense the excitement there.

With a smile she presents
Large, perfectly round cookies.
Soaked in sugared icing,
Overflowing with rainbow-ed sprinkles.

One boy savors each bite
And in doing so,
Consumes so much time
That he never gets to finish.

The other boy strip mines his treasure
By voraciously chomping off the sprinkles
Then intensely licking off the layer
Of rich, white icing.

When he finally reaches the center
It seems rather unimpressive to him,
So he takes a couple of mercy bites
And abandons the rest.

With their mission completed and their bellies content,
The boys gather to their mother like ducklings and
With their tiny hands clasped around her fingers,
They trudge back from whence they came.

The sounds of joyful laughter
That signifies the success
Of their great hunt,
Lingers on the warm waves
Of the mid-afternoon air
To let all know
Treasure, was found there.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

An old thought...with hopes of new ones.

I decided I should start with an old thought to start the "Me and Da Boys" Adventure Blog in hopes of creating new ones.
Here goes.....

Every morning I hear the slapping of four, little ,flat, kid feet against the wood floors coming toward my bedroom at high speeds. Every time I hear it, even in my drowsy state I start to smile...I know a flood of "Good Morning" kisses are coming my way ;-D


This is a great question....

Why do we do things?
Why are things done to us?
Why do things happen to us?

Sometimes we get an answer but in honesty most times we do not. I do, however have an answer as to why I started this blog.

I have been blessed with two wonderful boys. Both are loving, exciting and fantastic in every possible way. Never does a day go by without some cute happening or funny moment. Sometimes, everything seems normal on the outside but something dangerous lurks within. A mother has an amazing sense of danger. She is keenly aware of it, even when it cannot be seen. I knew something was not right the first night in the hospital. I had already had one child. He was so even tempered that he was more like an accessory, not a kid, so I thought I knew what I was doing with the second one. I quickly learned how wrong I was.

Why was he screaming?
Why could I not calm him?
Why was he miserable?

The nurses even looked at me like, "Woman you've had one before...what's the problem? Can't you take care of your kid?" Of course they never said that. Perhaps it was me asking these questions of myself. It took 2 years to finally get an answer. I had done some research so the answer was not a complete surprise but it was, of course, difficult to hear. Autism.

Why does he have Autism?
Why is My son plagued with this?
Why is Autism so vague?

Again... an answer. A duplication on chromosome 3q11.2.
A hardly researched, tiny band on a chromosome so small, yet it's effects... so big.
Learning delay, speech delay, trouble processing change and this is only the stuff we know about. We have yet to discover the internal damage possibilities to organs, etc.

So why open up about this?
Why share for the world to see?
Why bother?

Again...an answer. This diagnosis will not take hold and devour our lives. We will overcome it. We will squeeze every bit of happiness from this life that God has blessed us with and together we will succeed to our highest potential. We will fill our days chasing joy, seeing things we have never seen before, experience places we have never been. We will view our world through rose colored glasses and this blog will be a diary to document it. We will take the wheel. With the wind behind our backs and dreams in our scope, we will sail forward toward adventure.

If my little posts about two curly haired boys helps someone who takes the time to read it, then it has been worth the time invested into it and our lives already have not been in vain.

and that... is WHY.