And with that our free ranging days are over. Sort of. Charlotte will still walk home from school, but walking to school has gotten to be too much for her.

Up until about a month ago, most days she would walk. About once a week she would refuse. It seemed unpredictable to me. Some days she’d be a few steps into it and turn around and run home. Other times, she wouldn’t even walk out the front door.

I admit it was maddening to me. I just wanted her to walk because that was THE PLAN. Stick to the plan!

Then about a month ago she caught a nasty virus which turned into pneumonia and she missed a week of school. The following Monday she was too “nervous” to walk. “What if the other kids don’t remember me?”

All week she refused until Friday. But the next week it started up again. And since then I think she has only walked to school one or two times.

It’s tough getting good answers from Charlotte on why she does what she does. A few days ago she said she didn’t walk a particular day because it was just too different. The only thing that was different was that two of the kids were a minute late and when they showed up, Charlotte and the others stopped to wait. It was during that brief pause that she ran back home (she was still in the side yard next to the house).

I got to thinking about the walking routine. There are differences each day. What I think of as minor, though, is a big deal to her. A kid is absent. Another is late. There’s an extra walker. Truthfully the consistency isn’t there. And while to me the plan is straightforward – Charlotte walks every day – to her there are many details that are part of the plan. And when those details aren’t the same every day -the plan can’t happen. All must be the same.

It might seem like no big deal if she doesn’t walk -I can drop her off. Except Charlotte won’t get out of the car. She needs an adult to walk her into the building. This has been going on since Kindergarten. The child has tried and tried, but she cannot overcome her anxiety about walking “unattended” in a throng of other kids (possibly another issue) into the school building.

She managed half this year, but now it just isn’t happening.

So what I’ve been doing is parking and walking her in. But then she has a difficult time separating from me. Charlotte has no trouble separating from me anywhere but the morning drop off at school. Unless there’s a trusted adult to go to. And unless I walk her all the way back to class. If I go all the way back, she will cry and beg me not to leave her.

Those mornings are tough.

We need a new plan.

Her teacher and I brainstormed on the phone and came up with one. Fortunately it’s working. We think it meets the best of both worlds. She gets a little bit of an adult escort, but the bulk of the walk to her classroom is independent.

At the start of the year I was excited about her walking. Such a “typical” kid thing to do, I thought.

But in typical Charlotte fashion, she’s going to do things her way. As long as it de-stresses her about going to school -she can get there any way she wants.

What I *think* is bothering her is her friend is getting on her nerves. She’s bossy (Charlotte says, “N is my boss.”). And I think N is impatient with Charlotte who tends to move at a slower pace than average. N tells her, “You’re too slow!” Charlotte, however, does not believe that’s true. She says: “I’m not slow! I’m SUPER FAST!!” (And it’s so stinking adorable when she says it.)

Charlotte’s plans for today are to hide from N. She says she going to find two other friends, K and E, and eat lunch with them. “Why hide?” I ask. “Because N will get me!” she replies. When she talks with me about N (which she does every day now) she gets very upset. This clearly is a big deal to Charlotte.

It’s tricky this business of friends. I understand if she’s wanting to move on from being friends with N. Perhaps they aren’t a good fit. She’s under no obligation to be friends with her. But it’s important, and I have been trying to emphasize this, that she try not to hurt N’s feelings. Continue to look for other friends to eat lunch with and play with at recess, is my advice. And don’t let N take you away from your other friends.

I have told Charlotte, and I’ll tell her again, that she’s her own person and she has to be strong about what she wants to do and who she wants to play with. I also told her to let N know when she’s being bossy. But that it must be done in kindness.

And now I must sit back and revel in what appears to be a completely normal turn of events in 2nd grade. I have long worried that Charlotte might end up the quiet friend who is pushed around a bit. The one who is the follower. And yet here we are, at 7 1/2, and although she’s struggling to identify and articulate her feelings – she is trying. She knows she’s not happy with the way the friendship has progressed. Now we have to work through it.

Honestly, considering everything, not a bad place to be.

I have also read of parents speculating that their child has a type of face blindness. This isn’t anything I’ve ever seen in Charlotte. That doesn’t mean it isn’t at times a challenge for her, but it is not something that I ever witnessed myself.

Until…

This morning Charlotte was very upset about going to school. She claimed she didn’t feel well but when pressed for specific symptoms, she came up short. She started telling me she didn’t think that N wanted to be her best friend anymore. When I probed about that she said N didn’t say anything about not being friends anymore to Charlotte, but that she didn’t sit by her on the carpet during one particular time in class. I continued to probe.

Eventually she shared that when N came to school her hair was cut very different. “And I didn’t even recognize her! She came and sat by me and I didn’t know who it was. Then she talked and I knew it was N. But her hair was really different, and I think it should go back to the old way!”

Wow. It really stunned me that she didn’t recognize her friend because she had a different hair cut. Via email her teacher confirmed that N’s hair was cut in a very different style.

I don’t see this as a hugely debilitating issue for Charlotte. If it were, I think I might have picked up on it sometime in the last 3-4 years. What I do see it as is further evidence that her mind does work in a way that is much different than mine. Sometimes I forget that. She has her challenges, but for the most part Charlotte does so very well, it’s easy to forget that she has an IEP for a reason.

***

Speaking of challenges, things are about to get challenging here at home in the kitchen. Over the last couple of years it has become very clear that Charlotte’s behavior problems are caused by food. The problem behavior is always the same (aggression, which can include hitting and other things, and screaming) and it’s always brought on by a food that Charlotte has eaten a lot of over several days in a row. Recently both mandarin oranges and lemonade were the culprit. I started seeing it go that direction with popcorn recently but I nipped that by stopping the popcorn before things got out of hand. It’s fine to eat popcorn and those other foods … just not every day.

I began to wonder if gluten was the underlying problem with these other foods. The number of foods she has to limit keeps increasing, and the fact that foods affect her behavior is, to me, very unusual. So I ordered a stool test and gene test. The stool test, which looked for IGA antibodies to gluten, came back positive. The gene test identified two nearly identical genes for gluten sensitivity, indicating she got one from each parent.

This weekend is our last big hurrah with gluten before we all go gluten free come Monday. For Charlotte, it will mean gluten free for life. At some point, I’ll have the other two kids tested as well. The whole family is going to go gluten free because it will just be easier if we all eat the same things.

Truth be told, I’m dreading gluten free living. It’s a hassle. I know once we get in the groove, it will become second nature. Hopefully it will be worth it in the long run.

If you’re reading, leave me a comment. I miss interacting with my blogging friends!

Charlotte really, finally, *got* Christmas. She has slowly been embracing bits and pieces of it each year and this year it all just came together. She bought the whole “naughty or nice” Santa concept (despite that we don’t push that idea). She was curious about how Santa delivered the toys (that may have been inspired by Sarah who was very, very curious about that one). She remembered that Christmas has a religious aspect and she wanted to make Jesus a birthday cake. She was thrilled about coming downstairs and opening up toys (years past that didn’t seem to matter to her). She was also considerably more vocal about things she wanted for Christmas, another concept that seemed to just sail right over her head. And when I told her that Christmas isn’t just about *getting* presents, but also about *giving*, she decided she wanted to get her best friend and her sister each a present.

Reading the above, it kind of sounds like my kid finally got into the materialistic aspect of Christmas, doesn’t it? Yes, it does sound a bit like that. But that’s not why it’s worth mentioning, is it?

Sarah really, really loved Christmas. She was so adorable with her bright eyes shining at all the decorations around her. Decorations everywhere but here it seems. Driving down the road one day she hangs her head and sadly says, “Too bad we can’t have any decorations like that in our yard.” Ouch!

Of course, it wasn’t even Thanksgiving when she said this. We put some lights up. Eventually. Decorating the tree was probably her favorite thing. She ooh’d and ahh’d over all the ornaments and took care in arranging (and rearranging) their placement. Totally adorable.

The week in between Christmas and the New Year was … okay. It’s hard to be out of your routine and without the structure that you need. Sarah handles it smoothly. She wakes up each day ready to take on whatever we have or haven’t planned. Charlotte, sweet girl, wakes up ready to set forth the day’s agenda and argue about whatever we have or haven’t planned. Control is the name of the game.

While it wasn’t smooth sailing all the way, the time off has been markedly better than previous breaks. The days were up and down, mostly up. One big highlight was after a little sibling squabble in the basement, Charlotte came upstairs and told me, “I was really, really upset with Sarah, and I wanted to bite her! But I didn’t.” In the end, that’s all I’m looking for. Resist that impulse to lash out. Come talk to me instead.

New Year’s Eve was big for me. We did something I have wanted to do for a long time. We (successfully!) played some games (one game: Uno). It was just me, Sarah and Charlotte. The little guy and the big guy did their own thing (watched college basketball). Charlotte didn’t play every hand, and Sarah did a lot of pouting, but we played! And it was fun! (And I won!) An evening of game playing shouldn’t seem like a big deal but, like with many other things, it’s taken us a bit longer to arrive there than I expected. (Say it with me: “And that’s okay.”)

Here’s hoping 2012 brings more good times to be enjoyed by all of us.

Happy New Year, friends.

What I love is his unbridled enthusiasm and curiosity. Everything is interesting to him and must be explored. And what he finds delights him. Oh, the delight. Big smiles for everything from crayons to cats and belly buttons to bottle caps.

He adores books. His favorite book is Goodnight Moon. Loves it. The first of my kids to get into that book. Anytime you can’t find Nolan, look over by his bookshelf and you’ll find him browsing away.

Like his big sisters before him, he has a great love for that furry little red guy Elmo. And Oscar. Oscar he likes so much that it’s one of his three words: “Ah cah.” There’s also “ah dun” and “ca” for cat. The cat is his other favorite thing. Books, Elmo and the kitty. Nolan sleeps about half the night in bed next to me, and smooshed right up next to him is the cat.

If I could pick an age to keep a baby at forever, it’s this one. He is full of cuddles and wet kisses and his eyes light up when any of us walk into the room. Such a sweet boy.

But that’s not to say that everything is as perfect as I wish it could be. And there arises a struggle between holding back and seeing where things go, or jumping in to intervene on my daughter’s behalf.

When it rains, I drive Charlotte and a few of the other walkers to school. There is one boy who you could say has a mean streak. Or you could characterize him as mischievous, possibly a trouble-maker. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a bully, but he certainly doesn’t display too many traits that I admire.

The questionable behaviors I have seen include mimicking Charlotte (repeating what she says then giggling), kicking her seat, and pretending he doesn’t hear her. He gets the other boys gigging, too. Their giggles are less enthusiastic though. And when he’s *not* been in the car, nothing like this happens.

I have seen this only the few times I have driven him to school. The first time it happened, I was devastated.

WHAT?! He is mocking my girl! Repeating whatever she says and laughing! And doing it RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!! I could not believe it. In the 3-minute drive to school and 3-minute wait in the car line I vacillated between rage at this obnoxious, evil boy to deep down depression that he was mocking her so openly.

Charlotte, meanwhile, is totally oblivious to this. Not a clue. Her obliviousness may serve her well in matters like that. It’s no fun to tease someone who doesn’t get upset by it.

Quite a range of emotions I experienced though. Part of what fueled those internal reactions is because Charlotte says some wacky stuff. Me driving them when it rains is not the norm, and when she’s out of sorts like that she tends to get very talkative (which is helluva lot better than her screaming so I’ll take it).

She uses funny voices and says things that are, frankly, out there in left field. She repeats herself. She states the obvious (“that’s the garbage dumpster.”). So I’m hearing the “weird” stuff she’s saying, then seeing them giggle, and immediately I’m a mess.

During the 3-minute drive home, I collected myself and began that internal dialogue of whether I should be upset about this, and just how upset. Maybe it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe it is a “boys will be boys” kind of thing. Once home, I immediately go to my neighbor. She babysits this boy and I wanted to get her take on it.

I tell her what I saw and ask her what she thinks. She says this is what those boys do and it drives her crazy. They repeat what the girls say and they laugh. They tease. She says they can be very  obnoxious. She assured me they do this to everyone and that Charlotte is not being singled out.

I feel better.

Yet I don’t. I hate this. I think to myself, “Why does one kid have to be so obnoxious and drag others along with him?”

However, as much as I hate it, as much as I can’t stand even the faintest hint that someone might be teasing my girl, I have to hold back. Teasing is part of childhood. Boys tease girls. As a mom, I can’t protect her from everything. And I can’t allow autism to make me jump in and over-protect where it’s likely not necessary.

A small part of me contemplated telling Charlotte not to talk so much in the car because … well, because why? Because it might annoy this kid and he’d laugh at her? I couldn’t bring myself to tell her because I didn’t know how to end the sentence in a way that wouldn’t make my daughter feel bad about herself.

And so what if one boy or maybe two think she’s odd? In life, not everybody is going to her (and she’s not going to like everybody). I think I would be doing her an injustice to make her feel like she can’t be herself on random car rides to school just so no one (i.e. those couple of boys) don’t think she’s weird.

That’s not to say I won’t be watching this kid. I’ve got my eye on him. If he ever takes it too far, I won’t let it slide. I can only hold the mama bear back for so much. Cross the line and she will be unleashed.

*****

Related note: I may not need to worry too much about protecting my little Charlotte. One day recently it was very cold in the morning and she insisted on putting on her winter coat, no matter the high was going to be in the 50s later. She pulled her hood up and wore mittens too. When she joined the walkers, a boy (not the obnoxious one) said something to her about the coat (they were all in jackets, some in shorts even). I’m not sure what he said, but I clearly heard Charlotte’s response: “Yeah, I know, but it’s freezing.” And with that they all kept on going. I’ll say it again: It’s no fun to tease someone who doesn’t get upset.

That pink bin is where I throw all the girls’ toys when I’m cleaning up the playroom. That room is a designated Nolan zone which means no choking hazards can be in there. Most of their stuff is up in their rooms now. What little is in there goes in the pink bin (’cause I’m all color-coordinated like that -yeah, right).

Every day Nolan, of course, goes straight for the pink bin.

Remember this post from a while back when we had to say good-bye to Daphne. Charlotte and Sarah were fighting over her so freaking much that she had to go on a permanent vacation. Another Daphne emerged from the rubble to take her place as most beloved. (Fortunately they aren’t fighting about her.) The new Daphne, along with the old Fred, are Charlotte’s most favored toys.

When Nolan peers into that pink bin, he always pulls out the same two things:

Lord help me. I am not ready for this.

We have consecutive days in a row with relative calm. Relative, of course, because there are three kids in this house and invariably something goes haywire at least 1 or 4 times a day. There are minor skirmishes, for sure. But the behaviors, from my dearest Charlotte, that would essentially stop everything else in its place and take full parental team effort to reign in, those behaviors are the ones improving.

One of the blessings of so much peace and calm is that the bad times are relegated to isolated incidents and much easier for me to pick apart and try to figure out what’s wrong.

There were two such incidents last week. After the second one, in my frustration, I said to Charlotte: “You know, Charlotte, I can’t do anything nice for you because when anything at all is different, you can’t handle it.”

At that moment, I could hear the proverbial ding ding ding and could see the flashing neon sign  blinking, “That’s it! That’s it!”

And friends, that is it.

Even if it’s the most wonderful thing in the world and something that Charlotte loves, such as a trip to the ice cream shop or a bath instead of a shower, if it’s out of our normal turn of events – she can’t handle it. It invariably leads to a meltdown or disruptive behavior from her. Sometimes immediate, sometimes slightly delayed. But always happens.

Behavior is communication, right, and what she’s communicating is that when things are different from the usual, even if she wants to do it and welcomes the different, it’s hard. It’s not easy to step outside of the normal routine.

This feels like, possibly, a real breakthrough in my understanding of my daughter. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? People on the spectrum generally like things to be consistent. Charlotte herself thrives at school where, for the most part, the flows of the days and weeks are consistent.

A breakthrough, maybe, but I am somewhat perplexed. How do I support her through the different? Not just the planned and positive different, but the unplanned? I think the 3 times she has decided not to walk to school have been because of some minor difference to the morning routine of when/where she meets the other kids.

Despite my lack of surety in just how to support her, I am encouraged. I am encouraged because of the potential of this new understanding. The potential to teach her strategies and help her gain self-awareness. It won’t be easy. It won’t happen overnight. But I am hopeful nonetheless.

And so it went last week as homework assignments began coming home. I found myself wanting to micromanage her doing it, but I held back, and Charlotte showed me that she can do it herself.

Last year homework was a bit of a challenge. A weekly packet came home on Fridays and was due the next Friday. We never really found our homework groove and it ended up taking a lot longer than necessary and I did far more cajoling and prompting than was comfortable.

Because I have read countless blog posts and heard so many stories from friends about the daily homework battles that go on out there, I wanted to set in motion right away that Charlotte had full responsibility for completing her homework. I didn’t want to wind up spending 1-2 hours, or even the whole evening, cajoling, prompting, motivating or even talking about a 5-minute worksheet.

The first night the book she brought home to read took her all of 3 minutes. She skimmed through another of her books, but finally gave out after about 15 minutes of reading. The worksheet, which was to write out her spelling words 3 times each, took much longer. Not because it was  hard, but because it was “stupid” and “boring.”

I did a fantastic job, if I do say so myself, of not pressuring her to do the worksheet, or to read for 5 more minutes to make it the full 20. I let her know that she could finish spelling words later, and that even if she chose not to finish it, she wouldn’t get in any trouble at home. She just couldn’t watch TV that night.

That was Tuesday. Wednesday she didn’t want to do it. Again, I held firm with myself (no easy task mind you) and did not do any pressuring. Around Nolan’s bedtime, I suggested she do her homework while I was putting Nolan to bed. She did half. She said she’d do the other half in the morning. And she did. Independently. With no pressure from me, only a reminder.

Thursday night she had trampoline class and told me she’d do the homework after that. When she came in afterwards, she said, “I’m just going to play play play,” and she looked at me with that look. That testing boundaries look that says, “I want to see how you handle this, Mom.”

Remembering my personal vow, I said, “OK.” An hour later, at bedtime, I reminded her and she said she wanted to do it Friday morning. I set her alarm for a half-hour early and dragged her booty up when I heard it go off.

She didn’t follow a single one of my suggestions of when to do her homework. About 20 minutes before it was time for her to leave, I told her she only had 20 minutes left and so it was now or never.

She completed it. Independently.

At school if you don’t do your homework your clip gets moved off green. And then you also have to complete it during recess. While I absolutely do not believe homework is even remotely vital to learning at this age and that children should not ever lose recess for not doing it, I wanted to see if Charlotte could summon her own motivation to complete her homework. And she did. She told me several times she needed to do her homework because, “I NEVER get my clip moved.” She never got her card flipped from green during first grade and she was extremely proud of that.

All that being said, I am not going to pressure her to read the full 20 minutes. As long as she reads the book in her book tote, that is enough. And once she has books at her reading level, it will take longer. Additionally, I am going to ask for more challenging spelling words homework (like writing sentences instead). Maybe I’ll just modify it myself even. What are they going to say?

I realize that was only the first week, and things could dramatically change, but if you are the parent of a kid like Charlotte, you know how it important it is to get things started on the right foot. How it goes at the beginning is usually how it will go all the time.

And if it goes like this all year, I think I can live with that.

I’m almost afraid to type this and hit publish. The last thing I want to do is jinx the terrific start we’ve had to the year. But, ooh la la (in the vernacular of Fancy Nancy) what a terrific start it is.

I credit the ease and peace of our days to switching up the routines at home at the start of the school year and creating a new normal for Charlotte. The girl loves her some routine!

Charlotte’s morning routine expanded to include a daily shower (thus eliminating arguments about whether it’s a bath day or not). This has worked beautifully. She especially loves Tuesdays and Thursdays – shower cap days. Once she’s in the shower (unceremoniously dropped in there by me as she refuses to get out of bed), she perks up and goes speedily through her written-out routine.

The evening routine has smoothed thanks to several changes. Only one show per night and it has to be started by 7:00. We added an immediate reward for cooperation at bedtime (a very motivating one that gets her booty moving). And, the biggest change of all, I put a clock in her room.

Apparently Charlotte can’t stop talking when I say talkers off, but when the clock displays the magic “lights out talkers off” number – she complies. What used to take upwards of an hour, sometimes close to two, has been reduced to 20 minutes. 10 minutes of me telling a story and 10 minutes for her to fall asleep.

Long live the clock!

Homework just started this week so I can’t speak to how well that’s going to go -but today wasn’t too bad. Better than expected.

Charlotte appears to be doing pretty darn good at school too. She is so much more communicative than last year. She tells me what they’re working on. Every day she tells me who she ate lunch with and played with at recess. Each day she says school was awesome. I don’t think I can ask for any better than that.

I won’t pretend it’s completely and totally smooth sailing. Friday she decided she wasn’t going to school. Flat out refused to walk with the kids. I ended up driving her and leaving her in the guidance counselors office in tears. That’s wasn’t fun. And I have a hunch she’s going to pull the same thing this Friday.

This first two weeks are going far better than I could have imagined. I am beyond proud of Charlotte. I know it’s hard on her. She’s coming home and doing some major sensory-seeking. Smooshing herself into cushions, rolling around on the floor a lot. She just looks like she isn’t feeling comfortable in her skin. But she’s not lashing out at any of us. She’s handling herself.

Her sensory breaks haven’t started at school yet. Hopefully they will soon. Perhaps that will help her not feel so whatever it is she feels that makes her need to crash her body.

This awesome start is, I believe, due to the power of structure and a routine. The girl needs it. And school and our improved routine at home are providing it – enabling her to thrive. Makes me realize how the looser schedule over the summer was probably quite hard on her. And perhaps contributed to some of the frustrating times we experienced.

Now we know though. We learn. We grow. We change. I’m already thinking about next summer and how to keep us on tighter schedule.

And I’m stocking up on clocks. Just in case.