Tsara Shelton's Blog, page 8

Autism Answer: Born a Girl

Me circa when I knew one day I would be a boy

 

When I was little I assumed in an absolute manner that one day I would go from being a girl to being a boy. It seemed unquestionable and obvious to me. I didn't have a desire to become a boy, I didn't have a feeling of having masculinity inside me at all and, quite the contrary, loved to imagine myself the prettiest little girl in the history of pretty little girls. But I also KNEW for a FACT that one day I would be a boy, and I was absolutely okay with that.

Eventually, at an age I can't quite recall but know as being a little old to still hold this belief so certainly, I approached my mom for some clarification.

"Mom?" I asked, a little shyly.

"Hmmm?" she replied over her steaming coffee mug, smiling at me expectantly and taking a pull on her cigarette.

"When will I be a boy?" I think I was quiet as I asked. I was a shy little thing, but not with mom. However, I did want her to see me as wise, so not knowing was something I sometimes felt nervous about.

"What do you mean?" she asked with interest, placing her cigarette in the ashtray. Not a hint of amusement in my memory. Simply interest in me and my question.

"When will I become a boy? Right now I'm still a girl, and I like that, but I want to know when I get to be a boy. Will I wake up a boy one day or does it take time, like when you have a baby and they take time in to grow in your tummy?"

"Why do you think you will become a boy, sweetie?" She looked surprised, as if she didn't already know about it. It still didn't occur to me that I could be wrong since the knowledge was so certain in me, I was watching and listening to her from that knowing place. So I explained it for her.

"Well, if you are born a girl, one day you become a boy. And if you are born a boy, one day you become a girl. Because that way we all get a turn to be both." I looked up at her to see if she understood.

However, she simply smiled and told me I had it wrong.

"Oh, no, that's not how it works, Tsara. You are a girl now and will always be a girl. Unless you choose to change that.* It won't just happen to you."

"That doesn't make sense, mom." I was confused. How could she not know? My mom, so brilliant and beautiful and smart. So certain of things. Yet this simple fact had eluded her. "You can't be only a girl or only a boy, you have to have a turn for both."

She began to explain to me that she had been born a girl, and was now a woman. That I was right about change, but the change was different than I had believed. Honestly? I was shaken. It didn't bother me to know I wouldn't be a boy, but it really shook me to learn something I absolutely KNEW to be true, something no one had taught me or told me but seemed clearly at the base of reality and hence not in need of teaching or telling, was wrong.  

I was a lucky little girl. My mom was kind. She didn't ignore me or find me silly. She also didn't take my misunderstanding so seriously that she felt compelled to over-explain, push, or worry. She simply listened to me as though my thoughts mattered and told me what she knew to be true, and let me assimilate it all in my own way.

However, I didn't like it. At first. It is an uncomfortable position to find yourself, having to reexamine everything you think and believe when discovering it was built around something you hadn't examined and had simply presumed, and now you need to start at the center of your belief building in order to reorganize and look for places you may have made other errors or, painfully, embarrassed yourself. 

How many times, I wondered, had I said around friends, "When I'm a boy, I will/won't...."? What had they thought of me? What had they said behind my back? How many times, I also wondered, had I made plans for my future that depended on me being a boy? Or a man? It was quite a lot. And now everything had changed and my world had been rocked. 

I would begin imagining a different me for my future.

Back then, though, I was still young. Still used to being wrong and learning the stuff we build our beliefs around. So it wasn't as painful or challenging as it is now, now that I've built so much and so high and so far and so deep that making a change at the center of it is far reaching and means so much more work and, yes, can be more embarrassing.

If you know me well, you already know this story. Of me thinking people were born one gender and then turned into the other. You know this story because I keep it around, it helps to remember it. Remember how certain I was it was true, how gracefully my mom helped me rethink it, and how many things I felt upon having to make the change. Ultimately, I was happy. Because I did like being a girl. And I especially liked knowing one day I would be a woman; a mom.

It's worth remembering that even as we grow older and wiser, we still believe things that are wrong. It's okay, and it's universal. Hopefully, we will rethink gracefully and share our beliefs with both a willingness to change and an understanding that others might be shocked by our revelations and, themselves, choose to change.

Some changes do just happen to us: most of us who are born girls do become women when puberty happens.

Some changes are chosen: some of us who are born girls want to become boys and find ways to do so.

Whether the change happens or is chosen, we can always be open and able to reevaluating the foundation and beliefs we are growing them out of.

I was born a girl.
Beyond that, I am mostly building the rest.

Hugs, smiles, and love!!! Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

*I'm not sure mom said that part, about being able to choose to become a boy, but I know she might have. And I remember thinking it at that time, so she probably either said it, eluded to it, or simply left room for me to consider it.

Autism Answer: A YES Day Expansion Pack for the New Year

 

YES to coffee, books, and bare feet.

Today – Friday – is my “YES Day”. What is a yes day, you ask? YES! I love that you asked! 

In a nutshell: My YES day is the day I say YES to the things I want throughout the week.

I don’t remember how many years ago I started saying “YES” to myself instead of, “No, not healthy” or “No, not responsible” when I wanted something. These were things like foods and too much coffee or reading/dancing/walking/chit-chatting while sipping too much coffee. I don't remember when it started but I do remember loving the change I made for myself.

I would want to eat a pie (YES, I said a pie, not a piece of pie) and tell myself, “Yes! On Friday,” and then I would want to read, rather than work, and tell myself, “Yes! On Friday,” and then I would want to drink too much coffee while hanging out with my kids rather than do dishes and sweep floors and would excitedly say to me, “Yes! On Friday.” Suddenly I was telling myself YES to all the things I wanted while still getting most of my work done and not wildly overeating junk food. The cool thing about putting everything to one day is, well, it’s just one day. You simply aren’t going to eat all those pies. And even if I do actually read, walk, dance, and chit-chat all day rather than get stuff done, it’s not a big deal. In fact, it’s fantastic and fun!

Of course, in reality giving myself a YES day doesn’t play out in such an organized fashion. If my sons are able to chit-chat with me on a Wednesday I’m going to take advantage of it. And if people are gathered around pie and coffee on a Saturday while I’m around, I’m going to appreciate such luck and enjoy it. And if, on a Monday night, someone puts music on and starts singing along and dancing in the living room while I’m changing cat litter and knowing I need to still sweep and clean toilets, I might instead join in and dance along. The point of my YES day is to love my life and keep me healthy. Sometimes that means recognizing when important moments are happening now, not on Friday.

But in general, I tell myself YES and give the fun to Friday.

This has been fantastic for me! And I plan to keep it going as long as it continues to be fantastic. Although, now, I’m considering expanding it a bit for the new year and seeing how that goes.

I’m thinking I might give myself a YES week at the end of the month; for the less concrete, more ambiguous things. The things that I tuck away in myself to deal with alone, or not say out loud for fear of being misunderstood or for fear of being disliked, or wrong. The things that are whispers in my heart and or mind that can turn into snapping at the wrong moment or avoiding situations or feeling low self esteem. The stuff that makes you want to yell at a character in a movie or book, “Just talk to them about what your thinking! Just tell them what happened! Just say what you’re worrying about!”

To be completely candid, I don’t have a lot of that. In fact, I have more of a being completely candid habit. (TMI – too much information - should be my middle name. Actually, maybe my first name.) But I am human and so I do have those things.

Main Example: When I talk to my sons, every single one of them, there are different things I worry about and fear saying or telling them. I want to nudge them, but not push. I want to reveal things I notice about them, but not give them a feeling of being judged. I want to be supportive, but I also want to give them the space needed to support themselves. In these areas of want I have so many things going on in my heart.

The thing is, though, I don’t want to be so afraid of pushing them too hard or having them feel judged that I don’t do anything, or I don’t do enough. Or, actually here it is: that I don’t do the thing I feel I should do. I don’t say the thing I feel I should say.

So, the expansion pack on my YES day: say YES to these deeper feelings, the desire to express them. Say YES and tell myself that the last week of the month (or something similar) is when. That way I'll have several weeks to think about whether or not I’m being fair with the thing I want to say or simply reactionary. Whether or not I truly think something should be done or whether I think someone else thinks it should be done. And to get the courage to say and/or do it well.

I’m hoping, as it has been with my YES day, this will lead to happy habits. Where I hardly notice the “not yet” aspect of putting things till Friday and always notice the “now is the right time” opportunities when they show up on a different day. 

It's funny. I don't think of myself as needing a YES week for these deeper things and yet, as I tell it to you (confession: at first I was thinking it would be more of a good idea for other people, particularly types who tend to keep everything inside and then explode their feelings creating unnecessary fallout) I'm excited and surprised by the many things I already know I will consider taking care of during my YES week. I already kind of do this by taking advantage of my PMS. When my hormones cause that familiar moodiness, I listen to what comes to the surface, examine it's value, and take care of the stuff I recognize as being a lasting issue for me, not only when my mood is sensitive. However, that is a little less proactive than the YES week I'm imagining. When I use my hormones I simply notice when things annoy me (admittedly, there's rarely anything) but now I plan to look. Like the difference between being offered cookies by a friend or perusing aisles at the grocery store with the intention of purchasing food for the week. I'm thinking of grocery shopping my aisles with the intention of nourishment. 

I'm curious what will come of this. 

For now, though, I will enjoy my YES day! There is a pie in the fridge calling my name and I am going to snuggle my man with every intention of encouraging some heavy petting. :D

I hope you are also saying YES to making delightful plans for yourself as well!

Have a wonderful today and a fabulous new year! 

Hugs, smiles, and love!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Chandelier

 "I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, the chandelier..."

 She's so inside it. Serenity, my two year old granddaughter, is so inside the song. She loves the way she feels inside the song, swinging herself around the room. She sings the lyrics as she understands them, she smiles and twirls, looks down at her little legs poking out from under her shirt - scratch that, under her sister's shirt. The one she's borrowed that is a bit long on her and feels pretty as she looks down and spins. She spins again and the song continues to play from my phone which I have strategically placed on the windowsill. There is a bouncing of sound from that spot, a trick that gives us more than we're actually getting.  "I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist..." My oldest granddaughter dances and sings, too. Nevaeh, big sister, little lady, speaker of opinions. She sings and dances with me. My heart is swelling while I'm dancing with my oldest granddaughter but Serenity, my younger granddaughter, is alone in this world. I recognize that place. The song has swept her away and she's flying.  "I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry..." I can hardly hold onto my heart as it wants to fly with her, alongside her, forever be with her. Serenity swoops down low and then brings herself up, fills her lungs with air and sings out: "I'm gonna swing from the chandelier..." But, suddenly, a crash. A smacking of toes into the wall, cut by the vent. Where was this? Where did this come from? We were flying, we were everywhere and filled with such joy when BAM! 
 I swoop down, Nevaeh runs over to her little sister, Serenity is crying crying crying out. She's bleeding and hurt. It isn't going to require medical attention but it needs attending to. And now, drastically, the song sounds obnoxious. Cruel, even. Holding my sweet granddaughter in my arms, her sister cooing, "It's okay 'renity, shhhh, we're here. It's okay." I reach up to the windowsill and silent the vehicle of this pain. "One, two, three, one, two, three..." pause.  I think about this as we stop dancing and start finding distractions from her pain: I think about how much joy she was immersed in, how filled up with fantastic feeling Serenity appeared to be and how, had she been more present, less letting herself be taken away into the place she had been taken away to, she may have been more careful. She may not have gotten hurt. And we would still be dancing away, silly and safe in the bedroom.  Yet it is in that place, that allowing of abandon I saw on her, where I feel my most free, my most connected to the world, my most awesome. Do I want to say, "Be a little more careful, sweet Serenity. Don't let yourself get so carried away,"? Or do I want to say, "It's okay, little love of mine, you will feel better soon. And the joy of letting yourself be so free is worth the bumps and bruises,"? I think about this and I know both answers are right. I know I want my grandchildren to throw caution to the wind with courage, kindness, and curiosity; I also know I want them to think things through and choose carefully, with eyes open.  I want Serenity to sing her heart out while moving to the music, untethered by distractions inherent in paying attention to the world around her. But I also want her to watch her toes. Her sweet little feet matter to me more than I can express, even understand.  The song, Chandelier, sings to us from a woman "just holding on for tonight, on for tonight," and claiming she's "gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist." But I want Serenity to succumb to abandon because tomorrow does exist, because flying like a bird through the night can bring a feeling of connection and awesomeness and perspective and joy that is not easily felt or celebrated in everyday activities.  So, I think about this.  About Serenity's song and the joy it brought her, a joy that was entirely felt because she let go of looking at the world around her in order to fall into the feeling, how then she was - necessarily - unprepared for the edges that hadn't disappeared.  When we decide to be brave, to follow our heart, to step into a life we are called to but have no experience with, to be swept up in emotion, it makes sense to be careful. When I dance, for example, I move furniture, I wear my knee brace, I choose a fairly safe environment. But then, I dance and disappear and close my eyes.  When I've done what I can think of to set myself up for success, I let go. Invite abandon in.  That's what I want to tell Serenity. Set yourself free.  When you swing from the chandelier hold on, for more than only tonight, and if you fall there are so many of us who will be here to attend to your wounds.  As Nevaeh sweetly said, "It's okay 'renity. We're here. It's okay."  Hugs, smiles, and love!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 
 If you want to check out the song that brought Serenity such joy, here ya go: https://youtu.be/2vjPBrBU-TM Just, please, watch your toes. :D 


 

Autism Answer: When the Song Ends

 

My oldest son

"As my body moves inside the song, as the lyrics push my hips in uncontrolled urgency, as my arms reach outward into space then pull that space tighter to my sweating, swerving, swinging body - a body that is mine but not mine; given over to the song, a song with words of pain and crescendos of desperate loneliness and need - I close my eyes tighter, pushing the darkness in all directions and joining it with my energy. I invite the loneliness and pain to pull me apart, I push my arms out, I sing along and swing, sweat, sing. I know this song and it is near the end so I scream the lyrics louder, move myself farther in and out with the melody, ride the wave of emotion to it's very last drop. The song ends. I'm spent. My eyes open and the world is still here, I am still here, the cat is looking at me funny. If my memory serves, there are still dishes in the sink. Also, my knee hurts a little. But I feel fantastic. I've been here in this room, dancing, but also gone, disappeared into the pain and loneliness of the song, experienced it with every bit of body and energy I could muster, and it was intoxicating. What story will the next song bring? What feelings will I fall into and fill up now?"

 I feel so much when I'm dancing. And though I love all kinds of songs, it's the ones about pain, particularity about self-loathing or self-destruction, that force my feelings around the room with the greatest amount of emotion. I freaking love dancing to those songs. They don't bring me down in any way but, instead, bring me something more. I'm not sure what it is, exactly. Maybe I feel less alone, maybe I feel grateful to not live in that place of self-loathing while still able to recognize it and remember most of us will experience it and that's okay. Maybe I just like pushing on a bruise. I don't know what it is but I do know I feel happy, I feel joy, I feel connected to everything and everyone after a stint of dancing, especially to those songs.  Those songs tell a story that I would argue is not a nice story, not a positive story, not a sweet story. But they are raw and real, they say things that are hard to say in ways that are both personal and universal. It's powerful poetry where I can recognize parts of myself or loved ones and feel not so awful about the awful stuff. Because it is something in a song, I can dance it out, I can sing along to lyrics that depict someone else's version of our similar awful feelings and we're not alone.  I am a true deep absolute believer in being intentional and careful with the stories we tell. (I'm an annoying person to watch, read, or listen to stories with because I have strong opinions on the power of stories and my passion pushes those opinions out in words more often than not.) But I don't believe we should tell only good stories, or only stories that have a happy spin.  I think we do our healthiest storytelling when we care about using our words to add something meaningful or thought provoking or unexpected. When we tell stories, to ourselves or others, in order to explore, consider, reconsider.  And I think we do our healthiest audiencing when we care about how we are affected. When we choose the stories we read, watch, or dance to carefully. When we pay attention to where we pay attention and how it moves us. If songs of hurt and self-loathing only steep you in feelings of hurt and self-loathing, don't choose them. And if they bring you joy don't let the fact that it's strange for them to bring you joy stop you from feeling the joy. It is, however, a good idea to consider why they bring you joy.  Which brings me back to my dancing. I'm not sure why I love those songs, but I think it has something to do with having a place for those feelings. A place I can feel them without continuing to feel them after the song ends.  That's the thing about stories. They bring us somewhere, tell us things, give us new perspectives and ideas, then - they end.  But they also don't end, because they're part of our memory.  And we are left to live with their influence. We are still here, the cat looking at us funny, when the song ends.  Hugs, smiles, and love!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Spilling Secrets

 

Shhhhhh.... don't tell Dr. Lynette Louise (aka "The Brain Broad" aka "My Mom") I showed you this but I've been offered insider access to a transcript from the upcoming All Brains Grow platform being built by Lynette and Louloua Smadi (author of From Client to Clinician ) for parents and therapists and clinicians and I snuck this itty bitty little bit to show you because I feel like it encapsulates the reason you're also going to want to have access:

 "That question of when to do what to do, why to do it, how to do it, is the question that swims in a parent's head and says, I am at a loss. The experts must know, and the experts know a lot more now than they did back then. But they still don't know, because though an expert, occupational therapist or a speech therapist, brain therapist, may know a lot about their particular subject, they don't know that much about your particular child." ~Dr. Lynette Louise ("The Brain Broad")

 Do you get what I mean? How she understands the question you have of what to do, why to do it, and how to do it, how she understands that you are going to want expert inclusion but you are the one with your child most of the time, you are the one who knows them in more of their moments and you are the one who needs to know what do do, why to do it, and how to do it in more of their moments. All the information they are putting together for All Brains Grow is there to give you that. That answer. What to do, why to do it, and how to do it.  Detailed, entertaining, unique, and effective brain, play, and behavior stuff.  It will be quite a long while before All Brains Grow will be complete and ready for consumption. But until then, check out some of the books and videos and interviews that are available. Stuff that is insightful and offers ideas on what, how, and why. These can help lay the groundwork for the exciting new way of being we get to learn via All Brains Grow. And here's the thing, all brains grow whether you understand how to influence that growth or not. But if you understand, and Lynette and Louloua do help you understand, you can play a purposeful role in that growth.  My friends, I highly recommend it! A few links for now: Louloua's book, From Client to Clinician: The Transformative Power of Neurofeedback Therapy for Families Living with Autism and Other Special Needs - https://www.clienttoclinician.com/ YouTube playlist of Learning with Lynette - interviews with Lynette and Louloua - https://www.youtube.com/playlist... Fix it in Five with The Brain Broad - All episodes FREE on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQb5uz1eUIw... Books, blogs, and more on Lynette's websites - www.lynettelouise.com / www.brainbody.net   Okay, no more sneaking you stuff from behind the scenes.  At least for today. Let's see how this goes first. Hopefully you won't tell on me and I won't get in trouble. ;D Hugs, smiles, and love!!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, Little Brothers, and Moms

 

 Me and my brother

His brown eyes seeking, his words profound, his question legitimate, the wish birthing it unreachable: "Why didn't my mom stop drinking? It was just nine months for her, a lifetime for me. My life."

My little brother was sitting across from me at my kitchen table, visiting me on one of his rough days. I could almost never fix the problems but I could sometimes help shift his focus. Which, quite often, served to guide him away from more problems.  

This is such a strong memory for me. Sitting there, impotent, as my youngest brother begged for an explanation while wanting, desperately, a different brain. His brain was working against him again and he was frustrated, exhausted, tired of working so hard to find his way. Always, for over thirty years and more to come, working harder than most to handle and understand common situations, and in large part because his mom drank alcohol while his little baby brain was growing in her womb.
 

Question: are you wondering about our mom? Wondering, maybe, how much drinking went on? Wondering why she was drinking while pregnant? Or wondering if he's my step-brother? Or if he's adopted? Question: Are you thinking things about the mom?

I've recently learned this about myself: I would be.

My brothers are my brothers. I have four of them and they are impressive. It rarely occurs to me that they're adopted. However, when the subject of their fetal alcohol spectrum disorder comes up it occurs to me. More accurately, it occurs to me to mention it.

It didn't used to, but my mom is an international brain change and behavior expert who tends to lead with her experience as a mom. A mom of eight now adult kids, four who had autism and various other co-morbid diagnosis. A mom who has helped all eight of her children become more than professionals or statistics allowed for. Mentioning adoption didn't occur to mom either until too often, when sharing what she learned about teaching people with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) by sharing anecdotes from her life as a mom to my brothers, people would get sidetracked by questions of why she drank while pregnant, or judging her for it, or just thinking about it so much they missed the lesson in the story. So, now she mentions it. Now we mention  it.

NOTE: It is not a bad thing, mentioning the adoption. I'm not trying to say it's unfortunate that we mention adoption. Adoption is beautiful. It is an awesome aspect of who my mom is (the fight she fought to adopt my siblings is so mom) and an intriguing aspect of who my siblings are (they have limited access to their biological story and were fought for by our mom). Anyone who's grown up in a blended family where some siblings are adopted, or step-siblings, or half-siblings, etc., knows that growing up as a family is simply family. No shame, but rarely does it occur to mention it. If I introduce you to  my brother, I introduce you to my brother. Not my adopted brother. 

 
However, I'm thinking about Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder and moms. And my behavior, mentioning the adoption if I'm mentioning the FASD, is telling. I don't want people to think my mom is at fault. I don't want them to think she was drinking while pregnant. It's not for sure that they would, but I don't want to risk it.

As I said, I recently learned that I would probably think about the mom.
 

I was invited to review the book Blazing New Homeschool Trails: Educating and Launching Teens with Developmental Disabilities by Natalie Veccione and Cindy LaJoy for Disabled World. (Click this link to read the review.) It was my pleasure! As I read the bio for each author I was surprised. They are homeschool moms to children with FASD. No mention of adoption. I got a flutter in my tummy, "Will they talk about it? Reach out to other moms who might be feeling too guilty about drinking during pregnancy to ask for guidance? Or to even recognize the FASD symptoms in their children because they don't want to see what may have been caused by them?

Now, reading the book I learned the children were adopted. That the question of "do they have FASD?" was a hard question to answer for those families because of adoption. Because their children's birth stories were incomplete and unknown.

But before I learned that, my mind had wandered and wondered. Why? Why had I wondered? Because there is stigma. 

"Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) is a brain injury that can occur when an unborn baby is exposed to alcohol. It's a lifelong disorder with effects that include physical, mental, behavioral and learning disabilities. These can vary from mild to severe."

Often people with FASD struggle just enough with learning deficits to feel as though, and be treated as if, they're being defiant. Or not trying hard enough. They're similarly capable to those around them, and indeed often exceed their peers in some areas, but there are areas of entirely real less common challenges that incite low self esteem. And the challenges become far more serious because we are unaware of the physiological problem causing them. 

Often people with FASD struggle enormously with learning deficits and feel completely incapable. They are treated as such. People give up rather than dig in and get to know the unique reasons and workings of the brain. 

Often people with FASD (and their families) fall somewhere in-between and struggle alone.
 

We do want to ask our children to try. We do want to raise the bar. It is the same when living with and teaching someone who has a mild or severe challenge. But understanding, or at least trying to understand, the very real difficulty they are living with that has to do with their brain, not an unwillingness or meanness, can be the difference between helping them grow vs pushing them to self-loathing, addiction, and bullying behavior.

But where FASD is concerned, there is the added hurdle of knowing it could have been avoided. Of knowing not drinking during pregnancy could have meant less difficulties.

My mom says, “You can’t walk gingerly. You have to step in and say I am gong to love you robustly, and we are going to get to the end of this!”

I think that includes being willing to accept that perhaps our children, even the ones that grew in our wombs, may have FASD. We have to make supportive room for moms to ask questions, to not be shamed if they seek ideas from others. To say, I drank while pregnant and now my child struggles with these symptoms, do you have any ideas for me?

At the same time, we continue to remind moms not to drink when they're pregnant.

"It's just nine months for her, but a lifetime for me. My life." My brother would have been best helped had she not drank during pregnancy. But he has also been undeniably helped by having a mom who taught with creativity, a fierce belief in him, and an understanding that though he could certainly learn, he learns differently.

Sitting at a kitchen table visiting my youngest brother, who has his own car, apartment, ideas, and sense of humor, is a delight. I want to help create a world that invites more brothers to the kitchen table. And moms.

We'll sip coffee.

Hugs, smiles, and love!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

 

Book Review: Blazing New Homeschool Trails: Educating and Launching Teens with Developmental Disabilities by Natalie Veccione and Cindy LaJoy

 This review was originally written for Disabled-World and can be found by following THIS LINK.

Blazing New Homeschool Trails book cover, surrounded by a wrench, roller skates, and a bowl of veggies. You know, homeschool supplies. :D

Weekdays: Bed times were tough. Mornings were tougher.

Weekends and holidays: those were the too-short sparks of absolute joy and comfort.

When my four sons were school aged I ached with worry and indecision about school. Each one of my sons, at different times and in their own ways, struggled to stay their vibrant brilliant selves while being shuffled through a system that has grown cumbersome and dangerous.

Eventually, my sons found their own ways out. General education diplomas mostly. My youngest graduated with his class and even went to University for a bit.

But I will always wonder what might have happened for them had I been brave, creative, and willing to homeschool them myself. Oh, I thought about it at the time. I thought a lot about it. But I always chickened out, falling on the excuse, “If I try and fail, then I've failed. If the system fails, that's on the system.” Of course, it's not about me it's about my children and this excuse does not hold water.

What, I wonder, would I have done had I come across the book Blazing New Homeschool Trails: Educating and Launching Teens with Developmental Disabilities by Natalie Veccione and Cindy Lajoy? What, I wonder, new trails might my sons and I have blazed had I discovered resources such as Cindy's Facebook group or Natalie's podcast?

I don't know what I would have done. But I do know it would have been a gift.

Regardless of whether or not you are a homeschool parent, a potential homeschool parent, or simply a parent who wants encouragement to blaze new trails, this book can be a friend.

Encouragement is the prevalent mood that barrels through Blazing New Homeschool Trails. Whether reading a segment written by Natalie or Cindy (both homeschool moms), there is a strong feeling of being believed in; being cheered on. And it is effective.

The authors don't deny the challenges. They share personal struggles and obstacles with us readers, put a mirror up to our own worries as they reveal theirs, and remind us that this will be work. But parenting is always work. Parenting neurodiverse teens in a world built with them as an afterthought, and too often considered a burden, is extreme work. And while we avoid the work that might do the most good we're doing the harder work of undoing harm.

I saw it with my brothers. My mom pulled all four of them out of school (they had various developmental disabilities, including FASD – Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder) and they learned more skills and academics in one year of homeschool on the road with mom than they had the previous eight or nine years in a variety of schools and classes. They learned more and everyone was happier. I wonder, what would it have looked like had mom started sooner? How much less building up of broken beliefs in themselves? It doesn't help to regret, but it can help to share with someone who is still at the beginning and can choose to start sooner.

While reading the stories Natalie and Cindy share in their book I kept being reminded of mom. The people and stories are different, of course, but there are so many parallels. Adopting children with uncertain diagnosis and experiences, seeking help from educators who are often ill-equipped even if well meaning, moving neighbourhoods in order to leave persecution or overwhelming judgment, seeing your children as capable and worth the time while being frustrated with people meant to help who are unable to do so, inviting laughter and honesty into the home at every turn, and taking an approach to teaching that sets everyone up for a healthy future, not only good grades and other short-term accolades. I am certain you will recognize parallels from your life, too.

Blazing New Homeschool Trailsoffers a strong foundation while being a short and simple read. This book can be read quickly but does not leave you with less because of it. The tools to blaze your own trails are there, infused with encouragement and specific tips. Stories of what the authors did in their homeschooling, how it effected the family, what changes were made, and how things evolved over time.

More than that, they take the time to join you in your homeschool room. They include specific practical tips (the value of visual supports, for example) and also remind you to take advantage of the freedom homeschooling allows. Sometimes it's a good idea to simply change the subject, for example, rather than try to force a lesson. Pushing too hard at the wrong time only builds more barriers and leads to frustration and low self-esteem, for teachers and students. This flexibility is not natural in a typical classroom.

Blazing New Homeschool Trailscan be helpful regardless of the type of learners your kids are. But it is particularly valuable if you're teaching and learning with people who have developmental disabilities of any sort. Both Natalie and Cindy look at their children from a place of love and belief in them. They don't ever use language that forgets. These are friends and role models you want as you blaze your own trails. Because that's the thing. You will have to blaze your own trails, with others as support but not exactly as leaders. This is something that comes through well in the book. They can't tell you how to do it. They can show you how they did it, what the guiding principals are to build your one-of-a-kind curriculum on, and why for many families it is more than worth it.

My sister is a homeschool mom. Her daughters were only beginning to struggle in school when she had a moment echoed in Cindy's story. Both my sister and Cindy had a strong gut feeling they would lose the spirit of one of their children if they didn't get them out of the school settings they were in. And both of them had the courage to follow that feeling.

Did I have a similar feeling when my boys were little? I think so. But I didn't follow that feeling.

Blazing New Homeshool Trails is a great introduction to what it can be to follow that feeling. Not all learners need homeschooling, but if you have a gut feeling yours might blossom with a different kind of learning environment, one you can build with them in mind, I recommend taking the time to read this book. Not only because helping your children blossom is lovely but because not doing so can hurt and harm them.

If you are already a homeschooling parent – especially if your students learn differently! - this book is a good tool to have on hand.

For parents who choose not to homeschool, this book is still a good idea. It can help you build a healthy learning environment for your children during after-school hours, weekends, and holidays. It can encourage you when you're feeling at a loss and remind you to look for opportunities a little differently.

For parents who have children, especially teens, that are developmentally disabled, this book is more than a good idea. It might be a necessary one.

* * *

Blazing New Homeschool Trails on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Blazing-New-Homeschool-Trails-Developmental/dp/B096LYJCJW

by Natalie Veccione and Cindy LaJoy

pages: 97

Autism Answer: Body Positive - The Way I See It

Sipping coffee with the sun bursting through the window behind me.

 

It is summer where I live. 

As I sit at my desk I'm surrounded by reminders. Behind me cats are shedding and seeking cool tile for sleeping. My love taps on his computer only when necessary and heads outdoors (shirtless when I'm lucky!) to take care of the pool, dig up dirt & reorganize landscaping, climb ladders & fix stuff winter broke.  Out the widow ahead of me I see a river teaming with life. People kayak and canoe, birds hop and fly, fish splash, green growth floats past lazily. On the path and sidewalk people skate, walk, bike, roll, and enjoy all manner of interesting seasonal transportation. 

Everyone is dressed in the summer attire most comfortable to them. 

The weather is hot and humid. Some of us respond by wearing as little as possible, some of us respond by wearing light fabrics over most of our bodies, some of us respond by sweating in sweaters and feeling perfectly good about it. 

I like it all.  

When I was a young girl growing up in Ontario, Canada I rarely wore clothes that allowed skin to show. Long pants, long sleeves, long bulky sweaters were more comfortable to me than shorts and Ts in summer because shorts and Ts showed parts of me I was uncomfortable having seen. I wore t-shirts, yes, but always with a sweater or flannel wrapped around my waist as a safety net. When I went through my phase of wearing skirts and heels I did so wearing panty hose to cover my skin. My blouses were most often sleeved. Regardless of the weather, that was what I felt comfortable wearing. 

Then, I moved to Texas. I had two small children at the time. Little people who would climb all over me, need hugs and holding, need lap sitting and sleep snuggling. The heat in Texas nearly made me mad, and I started to dislike myself as a mom when every time one of my boys wanted to hug me I instinctively pushed them away because it was too hot to handle more things on me. More things touching me. So, I decided to be comfortable wearing t-shirts and shorts. Once that was comfortable suddenly I wanted less. Tinier shirts, shorter shorts. The smaller amount of clothes the better. Any itty bitty breeze that existed I wanted to feel as much of as possible. I wasn't any more comfortable with the look of my skin but I was far more comfortable exposing it in order to feel not so dang hot. After a while, I forgot to be uncomfortable with the look of my skin.

I know you don't care much about me or my evolving fashion sense, the entirety of which has to do with my desire always to be comfortable. But I think it's a nice little peek into how what we and others wear shouldn't be overly judged. We are kinder and our better selves when we're comfortable. So if someone is comfortable wearing something you don't like or understand, maybe don't waste time judging it. In fact, if it is appropriate to do so, make good use of your time by asking questions! What is comfortable about wearing a sweater in the sweltering heat? What feels cozy about not wearing a bra even though we can tell you're not wearing a bra? Get curious in a kind way. We learn so much about ourselves when asking and answering questions. 

I've been thinking lately about the balance between liking the body I'm in while continuing to actively take care of it. Even work on making it better. Sure, I can say it's only because I care about keeping my body healthy but, the truth is, I'm in a new relationship and find myself back in the headspace (one I haven't spent time in since my teen years!) of hoping I look good.

So I thought it would be fun for me to answer these questions I recently came across about working out and body image. While answering these questions for myself, my best friend called and we talked about the answers together. It turns out we have a lot of similar opinions on the issues though the things we choose to do about them are quite different. The conversation was fun! Feel free to peek at these questions yourself, check out my answers and consider your own. Are we surprisingly similar? Wildly different? An interesting mix of the two? 
Having a positive feeling about the body you're in - and there are so many types of bodies! - is a valid part of holistic health. But that doesn't mean shrugging your shoulders to any potential problems and just saying, "Well, I'm body positive so I guess I like it." When we love we pay attention. We notice things and check in. We are brave and do the work of admitting when something isn't okay so we can find a way to fix it. <--- This is all stuff I'm loving about being in love, by the way. :D
So, here are my answers to some questions meant to help me continue to find balance between loving my body and wanting to help it be better.
I hope you'll share some of your thoughts as well! 
The Way I See It:

1. Why do you work out?I confess, I don't exactly work out. However, I do actively and purposefully include activities into my day that will work out my body. I have never been able to consistently put aside a set amount of time to exercise, I don't enjoy the work out and I don't get that accomplished energetic feeling others talk about afterward. But I do strongly believe that my health is my own responsibility so I do things like dance, roller skate, stretch, and go for walks in order to keep my body looking and feeling healthy.

2. What body image issues are you currently fighting against?My biggest challenge at the moment is wanting to believe I look sexy. I'm in a fantastic relationship and for the first time in my forty-six years I'm enjoying great sex. I love that. The only down side is I'm noticing this new need to believe I look sexy to my partner. I feel sexy when we're being intimate, but throughout the course of a day I'll catch myself hoping I look sexy. Suddenly I'll notice that my stomach is flabby, there is an overwhelming amount of cellulite on the back of my thighs, and my breasts are like deflated balloons. In a way I feel like a teenager again. Wanting to look good but not believing people when they say I do. Luckily I'm not a teenager so I know better and don't let it hurt or influence me too much. Yet, it is there.

3. Do you think it's possible to love your body if you still want to change something about it?I absolutely believe that. Because loving our bodies means being willing to see when we need to make changes in order to keep them healthy. We are always evolving and the health needs our bodies change, too. And quite often the clues for changes we need to make will be in how our body looks. I think the trick is keeping an eye on why we want to change something about our bodies. Even if the why is that we want to like the look of it, that's okay. As long as we want to like the look of it for ourselves, and not only for other people. And as long as we don't fall into the "grass is greener" mindset. When I'm struggling to know if I want to change because it's what I want or because it's what society tells me to want, I imagine living alone in the world. Does the cellulite still matter to me then? If the answer is no, I decide it's not worth my worry.

4. Do you think diet and fitness culture is toxic?
I think it can be, yes. Just like any movement or culture, we can get caught up and take it too far and hurt ourselves and people around us. And when there is a whole group of people doing it with us we are at greater risk of not seeing when it isn't healthy for us. Each person will have different reasons for caring about diet and fitness, and finding a healthy balance will look different for each person and family, so I think it's important to keep an eye on yourself and not judge others too harshly in order to avoid toxic culture.

5. What lessons have you learned about body confidence? What would you still like to work on?Personally, learning to focus on how I feel in my body rather than how I look in my body has made a huge difference in my life. On top of that, practicing not comparing myself to others but rather appreciating the diversity of shapes, sizes, and abilities has given me a great boost. I would, though, like to work on this new wanting to believe I look sexy thing. It's annoying! And it is definitely my job to work on it since my partner has given me all the signs and said in all the ways that I do look sexy to him. I feel embarrassed that I want to believe I look sexy, but I do.

Hmmmm.... maybe working on feeling embarrassed about it is where I can start. It can be hard to figure something out when you're brain is busy being embarrassed. So there it is. I want to believe I look sexy to my partner and I think that means continuing to take care of my body while trusting he's serious when he says I'm sexy to him.

 

So there I have it. A few things I'm sticking with and something to work on. 

I wonder if my love thinks me learning about myself is sexy? tee hee!

Happy summer, friends! Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Autism Answer: So Many Dads

 

Dads

When I first started having babies - looooooooooong ago - I thought dads were overrated. I thought sure, dads are fine, but I never really had one and I didn't think much about it. Staying in a relationship just to keep a dad around is worse for the kids than walking away and doing it yourself. Dads are fine, I guess, but overrated.
Now that I've had a lot more life and have met so many dads, including two of my sons who are now dads, I have a different way of seeing it.
My mom raised eight of us on her own, and she was undeniably enough. She was strong, no nonsense, hard working like a stereotypical father and soft, loving, singing like a stereotypical mom. Yet, she was anything but stereotypical. With adopted kids, biological kids, foster kids, homeless kids, crippled kids, disabled kids, abused kids, all the kids - she loved everyone equally, saw potential all around, and pushed us fiercely while showing us how to build our wings, roller skates, trucks, businesses, homes, whatever we needed to move freely our way in the world.
So it's true that a family can be raised without a dad. But it is not true that dads are overrated.
My own dad wasn't around much when my biological sister and I were growing up, though he wasn't entirely out of the picture. He was okay. He didn't help mom at all but he didn't hurt us when we visited. My step dad, however, was around and did help our mom for a while. He also did hurt us. When mom saw that she left him. It would be hard to overstate how drastically our lives were affected by him.
My entire childhood and teen years I dreamed of being a mom, but not of being a partner. I wanted the children and I wanted them alone. When I finally was having babies I never told the dads they could not see their children, but I subconsciously picked ones that wouldn't.
I, errrrrrr, I am not my mom. So I wasn't as awesome on my own. Luckily, my mom was there to help me out. And then, luckily again, I met a man who would be their dad.
He was great! I didn't live with him so I got to have my dream of being a mom alone, but I had help. He worked hard, cared about each one of the boys equally (only one was biologically his but you'd never have known by the way he treated them, though only one having black skin might have given it away. :D) and supported any dream we had. He was not overrated.
I started to notice other dads. Dads who were always there, dads who were behind the scenes, dads who were not really dads but taking on the role, dads who were helping and dads who were hurting. Dads are not, I began to notice, overrated. They are powerful.
There is no one way to be a good dad. But when you are a dad, you matter. My sons, the ones who never met their biological dads, had been hurt by that. But, luckily for all of us, they were also cared for by so many.
Right now two of my four sons are dads. (All four of my sons have always dreamed of being dads and I love that.)They are drastically different dads, but they are both dads that care about being dads. They are not overrated.
My love, the man I live with now, has been being a dad - with his own children and children of others - since he was nineteen or twenty. He stepped in and cared. He is not overrated.
My own dad wasn't there a lot when we were little. But later in life, when my sister and I were moms, he reached out. Funnily enough, to ask for help from my mom. For a while he was like one of the children my mom took in and loved fiercely while showing him how to build the wings he would eventually need to move freely out of this world. He was an attentive and available grandpa, my boys thought of him as a father figure. My oldest particularly. His presence in their lives, in our lives, is not overrated.
There are so many dads. Some are dads biologically, some are dads because they are moms alone, some are dads that step into a dad role, some are dads that are doing it alone. There are so many ways to be a dad. Fierce, quiet, available, at work, playful, nervous, accidental, confident, hard-lined, most often a mix of it all with certain features prominent. Whatever type of dad you are, whatever type of dad you have, whatever type of dad you are evolving into, remember you are powerful.
I was right that you don't have to have a dad but I was wrong about them being overrated.
A dad is a powerful thing.If you are a dad, any kind of dad, one of so many dads, I hope you're aware that you matter. Whether the children you care for are little or grown, you matter. You are not overrated.
If you are a dad that is doing your best to be your best, thank you. That matters.
Happy Father's Day to so many dads! Hugs, smiles, and love!!!Autism Answers with Tsara (Facebook) 

Autism Answer: Sexuality is Often Fluid

 

icicle

 It is #PRIDE month. If the energy and camaraderie of this gives your child the confidence or desire to come out, to tell their family and friends that they are gay, trans, nonbinary, bisexual, asexual, queer - I have a simple suggestion. Believe them. Accept their version of who they tell you they are, appreciate the courage they are showing, and give them space to discover.  Keep in mind, sexuality is often fluid. So if your child is gay today and nonbinary tomorrow, don't presume it's because they're making it up or just trying to jump on a trend. It's quite likely they're simply evolving. 
If your child has been afraid to reveal their sexuality and struggled to understand it quietly then they have also been building walls and inventing stories to change, accept, challenge, hate, and love themselves. Coming out doesn't magically make those narratives disappear or push them easily into the past.
 And yes, as with all of our children, (but not us adults, no, never us adults) they could be jumping on a trend. It could be they want so bad to be an ally they take on a role, or they want attention, or they're simply curious.  It can be tempting as parents to aggressively try to figure out which it is but that's a mistake.  Most of our children are going to try on identities in reaction to trends, and most of them will do things, make memories, that create issues they'll have to deal with. But ultimately we help our youth most when we accept who they are, ask how we can be good allies, and imagine futures where they are who they say they are.  In this environment of acceptance and freedom I believe our children are most likely to change in their own healthiest and happiest directions. It may be that they continue to be bisexual or asexual. It may be that they are and always have been gay. It may be that they don't quite know who or how they love but they do want love. I don't think this means we stay completely hands off and just nod in acceptance as they work to figure out who they are, particularly where our more socially challenged loved ones are concerned. This is a time when our guidance is especially important. (Though, admittedly, appropriate appreciation from our teens and young adults will almost certainly be severely lacking. )  I think we're likely to be the most helpful to our kids by knowing we love them, knowing we want them to be caring and to be cared for in any relationship, and moving forward with them and that in mind.  In this environment I believe our children, our families, and our societies are most likely to change in their own healthiest and inclusive directions.  Hugs, smiles, and love!!!Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)