Mamapalooza Columbus Spring Festival 2011

MAMAPALOOZA COLUMBUS SPRING FESTIVAL 2011

COLUMBUS, OH (5/14/11) - -

Mamapalooza Columbus, a regional branch of New York’s Mamapalooza Inc., is providing an empowering Spring Festival again in Columbus, Ohio. This fun mom-centered, family-friendly, indoor-outdoor festival will take place Saturday, May 14 12:00Noon - 6:00 p.m at WholeKids Pediatrics & Yoga,1335 Dublin Rd., Columbus, OH 43215.

The first 100 Moms through the gate will receive a re-usable environmentally friendly bag full of goodies, coupons and more! Attendees can take part in a silent raffle, delicious food, LIVE music, and visit a variety of vendor/informational booths.

Dr. Dhanu Sant, MD FAAP will be just one of the many presenters that will be focusing on mother and child issues. Other presenters will be Hiliary Frambes of Parenting.com & Mom Congress, Alissa DeRouchie of Sprout Soup, Eileen Clary of HandyGirl!, and Erin Giddens of Young Living Essential Oils.

Mamapalooza Columbus will provide a safe space for the children to participate in arts and crafts, a creative mural, sing-alongs, story-times, family yoga, face painting and The Columbus Fire Safety House. There will be a nurturing space for nursing mothers too!

The full line-up of many talented mama-musicians & bands that will be rocking the stage include Tenara Calem, Vanessa Prentice, The Ginger Lees, Wicks & Wonder, Columbus Women’s Chorus, Megan Cameron, Za Unit & The Angry Men, One80, The Mamas & The Papa, Jerry & The Hashbrowned Seagulls, Randi Mockensturm, Lost Hollow, Katanya Ingram, Joanie Calem and Elliot 12trees.

Mamapalooza Columbus Spring Festival 2011 is presented by Sprout Soup, A natural family store. WCBE , Central Ohio’s NPR is the festival’s media sponsor. 10% of proceeds will benefit Amethyst Inc, a local women’s shelter. You can connect with Mamapalooza Columbus! on facebook.

Admission: Adults: $5; Children: $1; Families $10

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Counting Candy Bars & Breaking Stigmas!

This is HUGE!!!

Sahara counted out 5 Hershey bars at the store (ignore that I let her eat candy bars).

So 1 was thrown away because it melted in the car and 1 was eaten in the store while shopping ... she pulled out the remaining 3 just now at home and counted them and said, "1,2,3.... no 4, 5... where 5? Oh No. Where'd it go?"

Yes, that would be my girl doing MATH!!!!

YAY!!

Tears of Joy Here!

That would be the same kid that was catatonic a year ago and the same kid they said couldn't count 3 months ago and, yes, the same kid they said would never be unable to live, work or socialize independently...

Busting through the stigma people!! If you don't believe in energy work and the power of intention and maternal love I am here to tell you it works! Don't let anyone tell you your kids can't do anything... and if they do... prove them wrong!! Sahara you Rock, Little Miss!! You are my greatest teacher!!

What Does Blogging Have to Do With It? Grimm's Fairy Tales and Blessings!

Many of you were concerned with my weekend frustrations... be assured that my blogs serve multi-purposes.

Firstly, they are therapeutic - my motto has always been better out than in! When we store our stress, emotions and thoughts we do physically damage to our bodies. Once I am able to get the words/story out, I am able to make peace with it and move forward. (...and hey, this is much cheaper than therapy!!)

This creative outlet has allowed me to embrace autism and life fully while achieving my second goal... I strive to educate the masses about making conscious decisions in the world of motherhood and that included the good, bad and the ugly sides of autism and conscious/natural mothering.

I think that it is important for everyone to realize that when we are mindfully parenting our children, we still go through an array of raw emotions... this isn't a disney film of princes and dancing fairies with happily ever afters... we are still having a very real human experience that, sometimes, looks and feels like Grimm's Fairy tales.

But it is in those stories that lie deep life lessons and ways to resolution.

I have always said I have been blessed with autism and am grateful that my children have me for a mother!! I stand by that stance, although please understand to be in that head space of acceptance, beauty and unconditional love... we must experience the opposite.

Blessings to all of you on the spectrum journey and to those of you who are silent observers. I anticipate today will be a good day in the life of motherhood.

Reflections About My Daughter Being Hit By A Car

My youngest daughter was struck by a car over the weekend on the 13^th anniversary of my father’s death!! She was riding her bike on the sidewalk in front of our house when a teen on a cell phone backed out of her driveway without looking. The driver kept backing up after hitting her; pinning Sahara under the bike and car. She didn’t stop until my husband hit the trunk of her car while yelling, “STOP… MOVE FORWARD!" Had she gunned the car or had my husband not been right behind my child it could have been catastrophic.... The girl got out of the car still talking on her cell phone saying, "I'll have to call you back".

Luckily, Sahara walked away with only 2 scratches!!

So this incident has brought several issues to light with me:

The obvious is that cell phones should not be used in vehicles. As much as we would like to think we can multi-task, the dangers are too great! In a split second, this single distraction almost took a life.

After many people said we should have called the cops, pressed charges, filed an insurance claim… I have to address my thoughts about this. Firstly, my thoughts were foremost on my child’s well-being during the incident; no one existed around us in the moment except me and my child. I never even considered those ramifications until hours later after we determined that she was indeed going to be okay. Secondly, the teen did check on Sahara later that evening and I made it a point to let her know she almost killed a child that evening! I also pointed out that it could have been her 15 month old son behind that car! By the expression on her face, I am sure she is having trouble sleeping as much as I and that is a far more natural consequence than anything a court of law could do. Drawing it out into a legal battle would have been a consumption of my energy that I just don’t have to offer right now. However, please understand that had there been different injuries we would have taken different legal actions.

Or would we… in the time I have had to process this incident, I have also come to terms with the fact that my child could have died Saturday night. So, I ask myself what I would have done under those circumstances and I have to say my response surprises even me… I would have a difficult time destroying two families and therefore I would have advocated for her not to be prosecuted for manslaughter. Why? Again, the natural consequences of taking a life would be far more punishment that anyone deserves. And to rip another mother from another child would be just as catastrophic. Furthermore, you have to consider how those actions would affect the surviving sibling.

So, this makes me realize that there was a higher purpose to this incident. My husband and I have discussed this at great length, as Sahara should not have walked away uninjured. This was a cosmic contract; for Sahara, the teen, or someone else we don’t know, but we are sure that a contract was fulfilled. I am certain this incident probably saved future lives. Whether the teen will act more responsibly or because I vow not to use my phone in a car anymore… perhaps another bystander witnessed this and will act more cautiously or because you are reading this mother’s words… I don’t know. But something larger than us occurred that night.

Sahara shouldn’t have walked away with just two scratches!!

After scooping my limp child out of my husband’s arms, I collapsed into the yard with her. Shaking uncontrollably, everyone around me seemed to fade into the background. Her big sister ran into the house and got ice packs and wet wash clothes. I gentle began cleaning her scratches and touching her; within minutes she was up and walking.

A mother’s touch is healing; not some placebo effect, but truly healing. This is why children innately ask for their mother’s to touch their boo-boos and to kiss them. A mother permeates healing energy to her child allowing the boo-boo to genuinely feel better. This is the same phenomena that can explain why others heal ailments and mend bones simply when laying hands.

That evening when we went inside and lay on the couch together, I immediately activated Reiki and began energy work. This was the first Reiki session I had given to someone else since being attuned for the Master level just a couple nights before. She lay completely still for 50 minutes as I channeled energy to her. As soon as I was done, she jumped up and started laughing, talking, and dancing. I am not sure I can put into words what transpired, but I do know that she no longer limped and whined after this session.

I am certain that Sahara was protected that evening by entities that we couldn’t see.

I am aware that my spirituality strengthened that evening.

AND

I am grateful that my child is alive!!

Mother Rebel

I didn’t wake up one morning a mother rebel and decide to piss off all of my family and friends. In fact, I didn’t reveal my mothering style to anyone for many years (as it was a personal decision between my husband and me). It wasn’t until after I recorded my research and experiences in The Mother Consciousness that I started to openly talk about our lifestyle.

I entered my stance on holistic mothering with caution; researching as much literature that I could get my hands on. I have spent countless hours filtering through research articles, documents, online resources and books. I have read many different perspectives pertaining to different mothering and health practices. I have weighed out the facts, sifted through consequences, and rendered personal decisions.

I, also, put the energy forth to not take the inventory of other mothers whom views may differ from my own. However, I have made it my business to inform others about my findings… why?

Because… until I entered a conversation with a health care professional about vaccines, I didn’t know I had a right to question the constructs man had instituted upon mothers. I was naive to the mere fact that I had a right to make an educated mindful choice about the physical, emotional and spiritual well being of my off spring. After some self-discovery, I determined that I had the inherent right to raise my kids as I deemed in their best interest… even if that meant going against the grain. Empowered with knowledge and maternal instinct, I knew that some stranger in a white lab coat or Armani suit did not have the power to dictate how we were going to raise our children.

Man is fallible; if you want to know how I reached that conclusion read my book. In The Mother Consciousness I talk about the series of events that awakened the natural mother within me including the death of my father, the brutality of a cervical biopsy, being misinformed about the future of my ability to bear children, the sexual abuse in America, and more.

I do have a pet peeve with some of the mothers that have not made the decisions I have… not because they choose a different lifestyle, that is their right too. In all honesty, I usually keep my mouth shut about their practices in order to avoid the agonizing confrontation and I believe that you have the right to raise your kids how you see fit. However, after many discussions with other mothers who have similar perspectives and after talking with those who don’t, I conclude that many women in the holistic movement feel forced to defend their mothering philosophies.

I no longer have the energy to defend myself… until you have a child that is suspected to have a vaccine injury and until you have tried to participate in attachment / holistic mothering you cannot rationally condemn my perspectives. Frankly, if my mothering practices offend you, make you feel less than, or stimulate something uneasy in you, that is your issue not mine. Simply don’t read what I post here on my Alterna-mom blog, Twitter or Facebook. And certainly, don’t buy my book, The Mother Consciousness. I do not force this life style (which takes much energy and focus) on anyone. But, as a wellness educator, I will inform you so that you too can make an educated decision. And if that decision is different than the one I’d make, that is okay, because you made it mindfully.

I decided not vaccinate my children before autism was intimately in our lives.

I do associate the 3 injections of a vaccine they mandated I take because of my Rh negative blood to my daughter’s autism.

I understand that to vaccinate is a choice, not something that doctors or government should mandate or force you to do.

I believe it is illogical to put thimersol into a pregnant or lactating woman.

I acknowledge that natural immunity is far superior to the toxins forced into your infant and child’s body.

I question the effects of the mother’s vaccination history on her offspring.

I do think the breast is best.

I advocate that women nurse their children beyond infancy; the world average is 4 years.

I think it is normal for women to tandem nurse siblings that have resulted from single births.

I know the home is the best place to birth during an uncomplicated labor and delivery.

I correlate medication and institutionalized birthing to the pestilence of sickness among our children.

If I had had a son I would have left him whole and intact the way our creator intended him to be.

I think co-sleeping with your child fosters trust and security.

I know that the power that created the body has the power to heal the body.

I trust that a fever is an expression of health.

I understand that when a mother works away from the children they are exposed to possible abuse and neglect.

I know the mother is the best caregiver for her children.

If you are in alignment of my views, I am glad we have connected and look forward to expanding our Mother Consciousness together. If you are intrigued I am glad you have an open mind and invite you to learn more. If you cannot relate to any of this simply hit the x button, turn away and move on… don’t try to convince me my views are wrong and in return, I will not disrespect your views; let’s simply agree to disagree.

F@#k You, Mommy.... a.k.a. I Love You!

I LOVE YOU... Three simple, yet complex words!

They may just be the most powerful words in existence; yet, so many take them for granted. How often do you utter them in auto-pilot? Or colloquial speech… Love Ya?

The first time Emily said “I love you” she used the wrong words; it wasn’t what she said as much as it was the tone, the face expression, and the endearment behind them that allowed me to experience what she meant as she uttered, “Fuck You, Mommy.”

SCREEEEECH…. WHAT?!?!?

Yep, she looked me straight in the eyes and with all of the tenderness she could summon, in her sweet little voice, she uttered, “Fuck You, Mommy.” I am not sure where she learned that, but she used it in the most innocent loving expression and in an instant I knew she meant I Love You.

After I explained those were not nice words, I gave her the appropriate words to use. Somehow over time we took for granted that she had words to express. That is until Sahara came along and never found hers.

Yes, she can tell me she loves me through expressions and actions… but a mother longs for those three sweet words.

This all was the furthest thing from my mind today at the barn, but as we were leaving the stable, Sahara gestured for me to pick her up. I lifted her up into my arms and out of the blue those sweet sweet words filled my essence, “I OV YOU, MOMMY!”

Again, the words weren’t perfect, but none of that mattered for the second time in my life as she said, “I LOVE YOU, MOMMY!” with tender sincerity.

I, often, hear others insinuate that people with autism are incapable of expressing emotion or engaging in meaningful relationships. I am here to tell you otherwise; I LOVE YOU, MOMMY… spontaneous, un-solicited, functional, compassionate sweet sweet words.

Another milestone achieved!!

Jenny McCarthy Offers Hope To Mothers!

Have you noticed that people either love Jenny McCarthy or hate her? Frankly, I didn’t know who Jenny McCarthy was until a friend suggested I Google her after she saw my daughter spinning and avoiding social contact more than 3 years ago. (At that point in our life we were still in denial; how dare she suggest my perfect daughter have autism!!)

It was a few days later when I finally asked my husband if he had heard of her. Of course he had… but it was from her MTV days and the description of that Jenny McCarthy certainly didn’t describe the woman my friend suggested I look up. I put it behind me and we continued on with our life.

My friend kept passively implying that Sahara had many characteristics of autism. I was seriously annoyed that this person has obviously reading into the many traits that were “just Sahara” to us. This feeling was only confirmed when the pediatrician said, “some kids just don’t talk until they are six years old... they just have delayed speech. She seems fine to me. Come back in six months.”

I do admit I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. (This feeling began when I was pregnant with her... I chalked it up as typical fear that an expectant mother experiences.) It wouldn’t be until she was 3 ½ that we finally yielded to this maternal feeling to have her tested at the Public City School’s Special Needs Preschool. At the IEP meeting, I hit a brick wall. How could I have not seen any of this? She had delays in everything… socially, physically, cognitively, fine motor, gross motor…! I think I cried for 2 days straight, then pulled MY big girl panties up and became proactive. I knew it could be easy to fall into a poor me attitude and lose more precious time or advocate for my child!

I have to admit that it would be another 9 months before her formal diagnosis. That was the second time I felt like I hit a break wall. However, this time instead of grieving I went to the library and got Jenny’s book, Louder than Words. I read it in less than a day…I kept reading passages out loud to my husband, who, honestly, seemed annoyed by my correlating our daughter to Jenny’s son. However, I shamefully admit that I felt relief that we didn’t experience the medical conditions Jenny described.

Louder than Words allowed hope to trickle in my essence for the first time since the beginning of our autism journey. If anything at all, Louder than Words gave me hope that I didn’t have to accept what the Psychologist reported to us, “most of these kids grow up not being able to live independently, don't have productive jobs, or participate in a intimate relationship including friendships.” Honestly, this statement is what fueled my fire. In the beginning I was out to prove her wrong, and then I found Jenny saying that this attitude was wrong…

...HOPE...

I am not saying I believe everything the DAN Doctors, Jenny McCarthy, or other biomedical supporters say, but I am saying that to stomp out any ounce of hope in a parent is wrong. I have had medical professionals tell me that if you followed biomedical treatments, like chelation, you are putting your child at risk for death. I have read statements from the medical community and from parents that debunk Jenny McCarthy based on her “play boy” history and inability to act. Really?!?! How can we base the validity of her claims based on her professional career?

I don’t care how bad of an actress she is in your opinion— there is no correlation between that and her ability to spread the word about vaccination safety and autism. The only button this pushes in me is that no one is talking about the vaccines containing thimerosal that are given to expectant mothers. I once had a nuerologist suggest our daughter's condition proved that there is no vaccination/autism connection because she isn't vaccinated.... what about the two shots of RhoGam I recieved during her pregnancy?!?!

Could that be why during her pregnancy I had this uneasy feeling something was wrong? Or why she would not make eye contact while nursing during infancy? Or why she slept for unusually long periods of times after birth? What about her 5 month old picture that she has Down's Syndrome features? That the geneticist and neurologist couldn't find a biological reason for the autism?

Another mom on Twitter once said that people like Jenny, who are focused on cures, are instilling false hope upon mothers who are more worried about staying status quo.... She implied that we need to except out plight and cope with it. I rebuke that! Hope is what a mother with a child with autism most certainly needs, hope is what Jenny McCarthy and the biomedical field offers. Hope is what allows us to sleep a few minutes each night.

Sadly, I may not be able to afford all of the modalities Jenny has provided for Evan, but I can give my child hope for a brighter tomorrow on the other side of the spectrum. It is not whether or not Jenny McCarthy is a good actress, a playboy or in a relationship with Jim Carrey— It is about a mother whose journey is touching the lives of a nation facing a pestilence among our youth. And if for a moment, you can be inspired that your child may lead a productive healthy life, then by God, let the woman inspire you and speak for the thousands of children who cannot.

Grandma's Garden

We packed the girls up Saturday morning for an impromptu visit to Grandma’s house; she hadn’t seen them in over a year, I wonder who was more excited. Daddy got out of bed way too early, the girls asked the whole way (2 ½ hours), "Are we there yet?" and Grandmother must have awakened at the crack of dawn—when we arrived the aroma of baking permeated the walkway.

If you walk away from my husband’s childhood house hungry it would be your own fault—Emily doesn’t call her the "Cooker Grandma" for no reason. For lunch Grandma prepared fried chicken, homemade mac-n-cheese, macaroni salad, mashed potatoes, gravy and zucchini bread. For desert she made us a fruit pudding with zucchini… I hesitated, but, once I tasted it I discovered it really was to die for. I suppose I aspire to be like my mother-in-law in the kitchen; basking in the nurturance of her children through her many kitchen creations.

After we finished this magnificent bounty, we went out to Grandma’s garden. Don’t let the concept of a grandmother gardening fool you. We harvested lettuce, red cabbage, white cabbage, red potatoes, red tomatoes, green tomatoes, green beans, sugar snap peas, green peppers, and cucumbers… the harvest was luscious and plenty. My husband jumped right in and started obeying the instructions his mother gave while Emily followed every move her grandmother made.

Sahara didn’t have much interest in the garden, but did find complete pleasure in running through an acre of land without anyone barking at her to stop or constantly reminding her of her boundaries. Her spirit was free and the land fed her soul! (The city girls still have the country innately in them that is for sure.) I think one of the things I miss about the country is the sense of freedom it offers.

I found quiet pleasure watching my husband not have a care in the world; for a day the autism seemed obsolete, computers did not need fixed, employees did not demand his time, and money was not a concern. The country air enveloped him as he educated his girls about his childhood stomping ground, including the cemetery down the lane where is father was laid to rest. The girls carefully pranced around his headstone telling their grandfather stories of a life he missed.

It was sad to leave and head back to the city. But, I presume, that if we didn’t we wouldn’t appreciate it as much as we do.

Co-Sleeping Offers The Building Block For Trust and Open Communication

As some of you know, I am an advocate of the family bed. We happened upon this the evening of the day we brought Emily home from the hospital. I couldn’t tolerate that my tiny new baby lay in that cage of crib all alone after spending the first part of her existence within me; my maternal instincts screamed at me to pull her into the bed with us. As soon as I heeded this urge, I felt my anxiety melt away and fell into an innate rhythm of nursing and sleeping through the night.

In The Mother Consciousness I discuss how this prompted me to research the practice of the family bed around the world. I discovered that we were one of the few countries to displace their infants and children from the vicinity of the sleeping quarters of the mother; most infants of the world sleep within the close proximity of the mother in order to beckon the needs of her off spring. So, with my innate yearnings and the realization that this was only taboo in my backyard we ventured into the realm of co-sleeping.

Today, we live in a world where children are disconnected from their mothers & fathers for the majority of their day. Working parents send their younglings to daycare and nursery schools leaving them with a couple waking hours to spend together. If older children are not in school they are off with their friends or absorbed by all of the technology the 21st century offers them. My conclusion is that if you spend time sleeping together at least you have the opportunity to energetically connect.

Recently, I observed some teens that have both parents working out of the home. Now, I am not against the working mother. I was a working mother for the first 6 years of my motherhood, but I am against the parent that takes mothering lightly resulting in unsupervised children or children left with no moral development. A few of the things I saw these kids doing alarmed me... like lighting bottle rockets at their neighbor’s home and lying in the street during rush hour.

That evening during one of our twilight conversations my daughter and I discussed the behaviors we had observed. We talk about the safety issues, the lack of self control and even the boy girl dynamics we witnessed. We were able to have this discussion in the quiet of the night without contempt or the lecturing that typically follows such incidents; at an angle of respect, unconditional love, and self-empowerment.

This is just one of the many times that I understood that the family bed offered a sanctuary to my budding tween. Somehow over the years she has been able to disclose feelings and experiences in this setting that she hasn’t been able to process during the height of the day. It had become a safe haven where all judgment lay behind and it is understood that no matter what she discusses with me regardless of the topic is met with openness.

Could co-sleeping have prevented such deviant behavior in those teens? In and of itself…probably not, but it could have set the stage to reduce the need for attention seeking behaviors that could harm oneself or others. When an infant cries it is cueing the mother to respond, when the infant's needs are responded to appropriately and in a timely manner, the child learns that they can trust the primary caregiver which generalizes to all adults.

When children are displaced and forced to sleep in a separate room and cries are not satiated, they are being hardwired that they cannot trust the adults around them. I believe that when this occurs they learn early on that they have to have dramatic tantrums (lying in the street) in order to get the attention they deserve. In this case, negative attention is better than no attention at all.

I understand the need for independence and self empowerment, but I believe this can be achieved through other means than displacing our children from the close proximity of the mother during the sleeping hours. I also understand the concern of the marital bed, but let me reassure you that in no way has this inhibited our relations. In fact, this has created the opportunity to become creative and spontaneous in our connections. More so, the flirting and quiet sexual innuendos between my husband and myself during our daily activities has created a greater sense of romance; something I see missing from many couples that are far beyond the honeymoon phase of their marriages.

All in all, I have no regrets for the decision we had made in regards to our sleeping arrangements. In fact, I believe that one of the reasons that our youngest daughter (whom is diagnosed with autism) easily displays affection to us and people outside the family construct is because of the foundations laid by attachment parenting practices; co-sleeping and extended breastfeeding. I believe that each of my children have gained positive attributes that have been fostered through these practices.

Last night, however, after creating the perfect sleeping space, Emily decided on her own accord to sleep in her new room. It was a long night for us all… we could hear her toss and turn among her surrogate mothers (stuffed animals) trying to find that perfect nesting space. Then her little sister tossed and turned with the absence of her big sister.

This, too, is a task that I am sure we will all adjust to. And in the mean time, I will have to make a conscious effort to continue to connect with my daughter and offer opportunities for open communication based on trust and respect.

A Splash of Normalcy

We went swimming yesterday at a friend’s pool. I was feeling quite relieved to not have to worry about the teens at the city pool picking on the girls and was able to let me guard down. I sensed calmness within myself for the first time in a long time…

We splashed around and had a blast- I am sure none of us felt any worries in the pool yesterday! We played Marco-Polo and talked about the birds flying over head and the horses in the distance.

In order not to spoil their enjoyment, when I was done I sat on the deck patiently waiting for them to conclude their game. As I watched the girls play this intricate game they created, I was amazed at witnessing the normalcy of sisterhood; something I often intend for the both of them.

During this moment each would jump off the side of the deck into the cool pool, first Emily then Sahara. They would rush over to their horses (red noodles) and gallop away from the Water Monster that I am sure was real to them within the depths of their shared imagination; Laughter filled the country air and warmed my motherly heart.

I recognized for a brief moment that had there been onlookers they would not have been able to tell that autism was in their midst. In this moment we looked like a typical family having a typical moment in the pool. It was in this realization that I understood that Sahara was emerging from this label and Emily was emerging from loneliness of having her sibling experience autism.

5 Years Ago I Gave Birth To My Sunshine Girl!

As Sahara's birthday quickly approaches I find myself thinking about her birth. I can't believe it has been five years since my baby was born... where has the time gone? Anyways, in order to avoid my thoughts turning to how old I am getting I have decided to post a small excerpt from The Mother Consciousness about this birth experience....

"...Five days after my due date, we had the luxury of calling the midwives into the comfort of our home. I had been asleep for a couple of hours when I was awakened with the sensation to urinate. When I returned to bed I lay quietly next to my sleeping daughter. Focused on the tightening of my belly, I wondered if this was the beginning of true labor. When labor began with my first pregnancy it was obvious; my water broke and stage two labor contractions were upon me. This time I didn’t feel much urgency and birthing in the comfort of our home I was in no rush to go anywhere.

"When my husband heard me making a soft low pitched groan he decided he should call the midwives. He said he had only heard that sound once before and that was right before our first daughter was birthed. I was still unsure I was in labor even as the mid-wives arrived with my daughter yelling out the window, “Mommy’s having the baby! Mommy’s having the baby!” She jumped back into bed with excitement and I soon found myself, again, concentrating on the colors of the rainbow. I was birthing our second daughter in the comfort of my own bed just two hours and 50 minutes after I had awakened to go to the bathroom. With my husband on one side of me and my daughter on the other—this was surely a family moment to be cherished for eternity.

"In the quiet of the night we bonded with our newest family member. When my older daughter assisted the midwives in cutting the umbilical cord she joyfully declared, “Sister, I am making your belly button.” I then showered as she helped the midwives make the bed and dress her new baby sister. After the midwives packed up and left, my new family of four drifted off to an entire night of peaceful sleep. "

Happy Early Birthday, Sunshine Girl!!

Narration Inspires Speech

In May I fired our speech therapist for numerous reasons... one of them being that she told me that I enabled Sahara too much and that she wouldn't be talking by the age of 8.

So, with no speech therapist— we enter the summer with two paths to choose from—one was to be paralyzed with fear of losing the little speech we had while the other was to see this as an opportunity to be innovative with natural speech development. Being a ‘glass half full’ kind of mom I decided to embrace the opportunity.

Our new found freedom allowed us to venture wherever and whenever we wanted... but no matter where we ended up we found that there was always an opportunity for natural speech and communication.

We spent 2 months playing and enjoying summer while waiting for a speech evaluation through Children’s hospital. The assessment revealed that Sahara had receptive speech of a 24 month old and expressive speech of an 18 month old. (Note: Sahara will be 60 months (5 years old) on Sunday.) For some this news might be devastating, but not for me.

Instead, we continued to work on labeling everyday objects, comparing pictures, answering WH questions, yes/no questions, and following simple 1 – 2 step directions throughout our adventures and daily activities.

The opportunity for speech expression exists in every activity of daily living; and no opportunity went wasted. Sometimes I found myself mindlessly narrating my day, "I am cutting an onion with a sharp knife, I am putting the chopped onion in the salad bowl. The salad looks colorful… I see red tomatoes, green peppers, purple onions; oh there is a cucumber with seeds. Who’s that? Daddy is home. I missed daddy. Do you think daddy wants salad? I am setting the table. Should we eat our salad in a bowl or on a plate? How many plates do we need? One, two, three, four... there are four people here so we need four plates. Do we eat salad with a spoon or a fork?" Etc…

Narration has become second nature to me. With this constant input I have noticed an increase in her vocabulary and spontaneous speech. I was thrilled, but not surprised to hear Sahara said 13 'phrases' during a 45 minutes session with her new Speech therapist yesterday. Not words… phrases!

I want more bubbles, please.
The cat says meow.
No, doll house.
You’re welcome.
Oh no! It’s dark!
No shoes on.
I want mommy.
My nametag, please.
No no, yucky.
I eat apple on apple tree.
All done, nametag.
Want duck, please.
Moo, quack quack, woof woof, neigh neigh, bahh.

I expect that by the age of 8 she will not be wordless, but having conversations. I look forward to uncovering the things I long to learn about her... like, what she is thinking about when she looks up at the ceiling or what her favorite color is or how she wants her room decorated.

Reflection on the Sacredness of Childbirth

An excerpt from The Mother Consciousness:


I soon found myself attending a woman’s group where I sat passively listening to a dialogue about pregnancy and birth experiences. “Why is it,” I wondered, “that every time someone found out that you were expecting they had to share their opinion on the topic?” As I listened further, I began to understand that the childbearing experience often was what someone else had dictated it to be. Many mothers mindlessly accepted other’s perceptions simply as their own.

On that particular night the topic covered planning nonemergency C-sections to orchestrate their infant’s birth around their husbands’ time off and opting for an epidural. “How barbaric is it that anyone would refuse an epidural? She would have to be sadistic or something, wouldn’t she?” complained one woman who had just found out that she, too, was pregnant with her first child. Just a few weeks pregnant and already she knew that she would opt for the epidural. Here I was, well into my fifth month, still exploring what the childbirth experience would look like for me.

I was diligently weighing my options, battling with what culture said was the right thing to do while having this conflicting innate pull to create a unique natural birth story for our unborn child. I found myself realizing that these women could not even consider for a moment that the birthing process was a part of the rite of passage into their motherhood. They sat there discussing this as a routine medical procedure while I sat there stupefied, almost enraged, that none of them considered the sacredness of the birthing process.

Today's Gratitude List About Autism

I am grateful that…

…God recognized I could handle the autism journey.
…autism gave me the opportunity to stay home with my children.
…autism gave us an avenue to eat healthier.
…autism has taught me how to slow down.
…autism showed me how to listen better.
…autism has given me the gift to be timely in everything I do.
…autism has created routine in my chaotic life.
…autism has brought my husband and me closer.
…autism taught me that labels are not people.
…autism offers empowerment to mothers.
…autism is a strength not a deficit.
…autism has brought out my ability to be patient.
…autism taught me to love unconditionally.
…autism has taught me to be frugal with my money.
…autism has created opportunities for great friendships.

Homestead Park

A poem by Emily and Mommy about our visit to the park today.

Horse
Outdoors
Moss
Enormous Dragonflies
Sand Volleyball Pit
Trees
Emily Helping
Amphibian Frog
Dozens of Cattails


Pond
A Mommy Duck
Running Sahara
Kids

Purposeful Parenting Month.... Happy July!

Purposeful parenting… that is exactly why I started writing this blog! To be purposeful is to demonstrate mindful intent.

I talk about this in my book The Mother Consciousness:

"At the onset of my first pregnancy and well into my motherhood, I had learned to mindfully provide physical, emotional, nutritional, and spiritual nurturance form my younglings…

"In the early twenty-first century many mothers are beginning to awaken to and become involved in movements such as holistic mothering and attachment parenting. Both movements promote peace, connectedness, and health within the family construct in order to promote the highest quality of life for the children (and the parents). It is my suggestion, that all woman have this drive within their souls and that the lessons of their foremothers reside in their collective unconscious; and when these lessons are heard and honored that is when true conscious mothering talks place."

During the month of July I ask you to pause and become more conscious in the daily mothering decisions you are faced with… become more purposeful in everything you do with your children! From the smallest task of tying shoes to the monumental task of fostering self-esteem be mindful in the moment.

Other than Purposeful parenting, July also is recognize as

Anti-Boredom Month
Cell phone Courtesy Month
Copious Compliments Month
Baked Beans Month
Bison Month
Herbal/Prescription Awareness Month
Culinary Arts Month
National Doghouse Repairs Month
Foreign Language Month
Hot Dog Month
Blueberries month
Recreation and Parks Month

HAPPY JULY!!
　

The Ultimate Gift For Dad

We went to Grandma’s house for a week… the children had a blast splashing in the pool, playing with Grandma, visiting the Zoo, and even going on an African Safari complete with hand feeding buffalo, giraffe, monkeys, camels, and more.

But, truth be known, it was Daddy’s Father’s Day present; a whole week to himself to do whatever he pleased… What filled his spare time didn’t concern me; I trusted him explicitly to appropriately utilize this heartfelt gift to whatever he deemed necessary to fill his spirit.

What did matter… was that he was able to step away from the daily responsibilities of juggling a family, a demanding career, and the many struggles a man faces when his child experiences autism.

He didn’t have to listen to, "When are you coming home?" a thousand times because I was so exhausted from the demands of the day and needed relief. When those 4:45 calls start… he knows he will have to jump out of the role of professional right into the role of daddy just so I could go lay on the bathroom floor for 10 brief minutes to recharge my own batteries.

He didn’t have to attend to my technical incompetence after he just spent a day at the office listening to a bunch of whining adults about their technical woes. I am sure all week he had a sense of relief when he came in through the door knowing he wasn’t going to have to trouble shoot why my outlook address book wasn’t syncing with my mailbox or why I couldn’t print the Webkinz adoption certificates.

We were tempted to get him a shirt instead that stated, "No I won’t fix your computer!" … somehow a week off seemed more appealing to his nature.

I am sure he indulged in a few cigars and drank a High Ball (whiskey and 7-up) while listening to nothing... quietness, I am sure, enveloped him. Certainly, this was a foreign sound from the ten years of child driven noises and 21 years with a woman who loves to talk. I am sure he basked in this delight!

(Yes, I suppose I am a bit jealous… but, I’ll get over it.)

I am just as certain that it was not all pleasure. I know my husband and know that in the recess of his mind he still worried about whether or not the therapy and doctor bills were paid… Whether or not our child was getting enough nutrition and the appropriate services… Whether or not he would ever be able to hold a meaningful conversation with his daughter… Whether or not the girls would be provided for if we were to die... Maybe, he even contemplated whether or not it would be easier on him if he left us (like in 85% of marriages that are faced with autism).

But, I am comforted that by Sunday morning he emailed me saying, "I miss my 3 women! When did you say you were coming home?"

I learned that by the time Sunday night arrived he desperately missed us. I suppose I am reassured that he found himself yearning to rummage around for Red Bear so Emily could sleep and that he missed the nonstop chatter of Sahara having to recite an entire scene from Shark Tales before she could nestle down for the night. I am glad that the house at times was too quiet for him.

I have come to terms that there are moments that seem so hard and painful in the world of autism that it seems easier to run away … but that is why each of us need this type of break now and then, to not only recharge our batteries, but to shatter this illusion and acknowledge that the grass is perfect on this side of the spectrum.

Happy 10th Birthday!

Do you remember the anticipation you felt on the eve of your 10th birthday? Turning double digits!! You eagerly went to bed certain you would be a completely different person upon rising... But, sleep didn’t come easy.

You lay there awake, your mind focused on that number… 10… it signified so much; perfection, coming full circle, centeredness. Although, as a blooming tween, your mind wasn’t focused on that symbolism as much as the party and being an almost teen… just 3 more years, that is 36 short months.

Girl, you rocked! You were on top of your game.

Then you woke up… you had to admit you didn’t feel much different than last night, however you did feel the surge of adrenaline pumping through you as you remembered your friends would soon be here to help greet you into the next decade of your life. You jumped out of bed to the smell of your special breakfast and your birthday was in full swing.

During my birthday breakfast the high pitched ring of the phone broke the excited chatter between me and my four siblings. My mom’s voice answered the phone; she guarded her words. Glances were darted around the room, but I seemed to be the only one who didn’t understand. When she was done with her muffled conversation she took me to my room.

What!?!? We did everything together. This was my big 10! We just talked about it last night about what we were wearing. I didn’t understand why my three cousins wouldn’t be coming. It didn’t make sense. Then she told me…

My favorite aunt, their mom, how?!?! I didn’t want to believe it. Moms don’t die. I know, she had been sick for some time, but she was going to get better. She just had to.

I don’t know how long I laid there crying. I remember feeling an incredible sense of grief and just couldn’t pull myself together. Then my sister yelled, “Perry is here!” My first guest, for my first big party, the whole class was coming. I didn’t know how I was going to get through the day, but I brushed my long blonde hair, put on my floral sundress, and headed out to the backyard.

…I still have the golden heart locket Perry gave me that year. Maybe as a treasure for my 10th birthday — from my first guest who had a hidden crush on me… or maybe as a hidden momentum for the broken heart that I endured that day. At ten I was sure I was all that, but somehow my aunt’s death seemed to snap me back to reality.

30 years later, as I prepared for my own daughter’s 10th celebration, I was determined to have it be a memory she, too, would never forget. Only this memory would be one of joy, laughter, and friendship. I know we cannot control the unforeseen, but I would do the best to protect her from the pain I endured on my 10th birthday. She was to feel like she was on top of the world for the whole day.

“Double digits, double the fun! Pick out your two favorite activities and that is what we are doing.”

So, on Saturday afternoon (with friends in tow) we headed to the horse barn. Most of the kids had never been on a horse before; the amazement in their eyes was enough to tell me that this was a moment being embedded in their youthful memories. The laughter flowed from them as they fed the horses carrots and apples. (This was way cooler than any commercialized birthday party.)

When I finished gathering the backpacks scattered by the arena, I turned to find the kids on the tractor bed bailing hay. They were working, but they didn’t know it… amazing!

Later they splashed in the pool; foreign squeals filled the farm air. After a splashing game of Marco-Polo, we headed back to the house for ice cream, cake, hot dogs and, of course, presents. She received gifts that were meaningful to her; a dinosaur shadow box was among her favorite along with art supplies and stuffed animals. I silently wondered if one would end up on the bottom of her hope chest, like my gold heart from Perry.

I felt a sense of accomplishment as I nestled down for the night; my thoughts swirling around the new generation full of stars in their eyes.

My Maternal Voice Saved My Daughter's Life

Every June, as I prepare birthday invitations, I pause and offer gratitude for finding my maternal voice. This innate response saved my daughters life.... (excerpt from The Mother Consciousness)

...Then sure enough, just four days later, we were told by our obstetrician the crushing news that there was no fetus in the embryonic sac. He ordered blood work to be done and said, “We should see the hormone levels go down over the next week.” We were devastated. My dreams of becoming a mother were about to be fulfilled and then, once again, stolen from me! The days that followed were long and full of grief.

At our next appointment the obstetrician said what we had feared the most—the hormone levels had decreased by more than 3000 and that reflected a miscarriage. As if trying to comfort us he said, “Most pregnancies end this way and the parents never even knew that they were pregnant.” He continued, “This is the body’s way of getting rid of a fetus that was not healthy to begin with or malformed.”

He then lectured about doing a D&C versus allowing the body to naturally abort the pregnancy. As my husband and I looked at each other, we could tell this was a routine lecture he had given to many patients before us.

[Somewhere in the depths of my existence I had my first maternal instinct whisper to me, “What if he is wrong?” This split second thought would change my life forever!]

It was in that moment that I had found myself outwardly questioning the authority that I had blindly accepted as my truth the first two decades of my life. It was in this flash of time that I considered that this doctor and his tests could be wrong. With my husband at my side, I sheepishly said, “What if you’re wrong?”

Quick glances were exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, “Mrs. Richardson, I know this must be difficult…” He talked about being a Christian and how he would never recommend a D&C without just cause. There he stood telling us about his stance on abortion and how he would not recommend this procedure unless he was absolutely 100 percent certain that the pregnancy had already been terminated.

[Could the ancestral mothers have been listening to my silent cries for a miracle? Did I feel their wisdom in my cells or hear them in the recess of my mind?]

My husband supported my outward questioning of this doctor’s authority by firmly requesting another ultrasound. As they begrudgingly prepared for the procedure, I laid there, once again in the cold blue crinkled paper gown, in profound silence. I held my breath as we stared at the screen. My husband stood by my side caressing my hand. Minutes seemed to be suspended in time.

Then suddenly, there was a rhythmic movement in the middle of the screen within the very sac that just a week ago appeared empty. Stunned—we watched our daughter’s heart beat for the first time. Again, more quick glances were passed around the room as I let go of my breath. The doctor quickly said, “I guess I will see you in a month.” He abruptly left the room with no apology or explanation regarding the agonizing experience we had just painstakingly endured.

(My Daughter will celebrate her 10th birthday next weekend! Happy Birthday Angel-Girl!)

It’s June!

June brings an explosion of festivities; the kids are out of school, summer greets graduates who are preparing for their next adventure, June brides have their marriages commenced, expectant mothers are pampered with baby showers, and father’s honored with a day of rest and relaxation.

June is referred to as the “door of the year”; a gateway to transformation. All of life assembles to create new opportunities and abundance. Not only do people experience colossal changes, but the earth as well; vegetation thickens, trees stand tall, and the sky glistens above.

June the month of many things:

Adopt a shelter-cat month
Children’s awareness month
Fireworks safety month
Gay & lesbian pride month
International men’s month
People skills month
Perennial gardening month
Accordion awareness month
Rose month
Rebuild your life month
Student safety month
Vision research month
Bless-a-Child month
Dairy month
Skin cancer awareness month
Entrepreneurs marketing month
Turkey lover’s month