The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's been nothing but smiles and happiness around here for the holiday season, and the little guy is the main reason. Elijah continues to show great progress, and both Sarah and I couldn't be happier. From dropping him off in the morning at school (where unprompted hellos to teachers, fist-bumps with the principal and smiles for classmates are the norm) to picking him up in the afternoon (when, according to Sarah, hugs from classmates signal the end of the school day), it seems as if first grade is first-rate! Without any help, Elijah gets his lunch each day in the cafeteria and eats with his classmates. (Although we have discovered that his favorite item, the "Deli Sub," is nothing more than a piece of turkey and a piece of American cheese between two slices of white bread. Drool, drool!). For most parents, these moments may not signify all that much, but for us, it shows incredible growth.

School is just one example of how things are different this year. In previous years the holiday season meant as much to Elijah as the start of hunting season .... nothing. Last year he seemed to get the holiday idea somewhat as he asked for gifts from Santa and lit Hanukkah candles (of course the fact that the latter included chocolate coins made it all the better). This year, however, he is in full holiday mode. On Thanksgiving, he devoured turkey at two different settings (at home and at Uncle George and Aunt Julie's) and shared with Grandma Smith turkeys he had drawn. Then, after insisting that the packed-away Christmas tree be brought up from the basement, he proceeded to decorate it like a true professional, or at least like a professional 7 year-old. (Most of the ornaments were on one side, all of them about his eye level, with no rhyme or reason to his pattern.)

Then the menorah was filled with candles, and when I tried to explain that only one candle is used on the first night, Elijah insisted that all eight be lit. It appears as if a new Hebrew tradition is being started in our home -- start with eight candles on the first night of Hanukkah and work your way down to one. But hey, a miracle is a miracle any way you look at at.

Elijah's artistry has taken a new path as he now uses the Paint program on the computer to create pictures that sometimes convey a story arc, but more often are images like the house pictured here.

Add to all of this activity Elijah's happiness to go weekly therapy sessions with "Miss Nicki" and his joy when we go to the gym (he gets hugs and kisses from the girls who work there), and what you have is one very happy and rambunctious little boy, full of life and expressing it both in words and actions. A very wonderful time indeed!

A Lost Tooth, but Not a Lost Cause

It has been a very exciting couple of weeks here as Elijah has FINALLY lost his first tooth, waiting until he was 7 years old. After a few days of pushing against it with his tongue, the big moment occurred while he was at school, which meant he not only lost a tooth, but also gained a certificate, signed by the nurse, announcing the occasion. That night the Tooth Fairy, taking into account the rate of inflation and the tough economic times we are in, replaced the tiny tooth with two dollars and a note telling him to spend the money on anything he wanted. Elijah, being Elijah, used the money to buy a clipboard on which he has been practicing his spelling test words for school. Practical and educational...that's Sarah's genes, not mine!

Losing a tooth was not the only notable event that occurred at school recently. Sarah, concerned that some children were making fun of Elijah, wrote his teacher about it. Since bullying is such a hot-button issue at schools these days, his teacher suggested that a way be found to educate his classmates about Elijah's autism. She asked if there might be a book she could share with the class and help them understand why Elijah acts the way he does sometimes.

Dad took to the Internet and found a couple of titles that could be used. One of them, Looking After Louis, was a perfect fit. The main character, Louis, who is autistic but still mainstreamed at a public school, had many characteristics that were similar to Elijah. Louis has an adult sit with him in class, mimics the teacher and has wonderful artistic skills. He wants to play with the other boys but doesn't seem to comprehend how to do it. The narrator of the story is a little girl who is a classmate of Louis and wants to be his friend but can't understand why the rules don't seem to apply to him. At the end of the story, the children begin to see, through his art, how special Louis is and play with him like they would any other classmate. As a father of a little boy with autism who hopes each day that his son will be accepted by his peers, I admit the ending brought tears to my eyes.

But what would Elijah's classmates think? His teacher, with the assistance of the school counselor, read the book to his class while Elijah was out of the room. (His absence was not an unusual occurrence, as Elijah, who reads at a very advanced level but has trouble comprehending what he reads, goes to a reading skills room at least twice a week.)

According to the teacher and counselor, the class really seemed to understand and wanted to help. (I must give praise to Elijah's teacher whose incredible enthusiasm is only equaled by her and the counselor's empathy for Elijah's situation. They are both doing a wonderful job.) A sign-up sheet was posted for members of the class to be Elijah's "recess buddy" (it would involve playing with Elijah for the first 10 minutes of recess) and it looked like every one of them signed up to do it. Not only that, at the school book fair, at least four of his classmates made a beeline for him to say hello, with one little girl insisting that her mother, who was volunteering at the checkout area, stop what she was doing so Elijah could be introduced to her. And each greeting to Elijah was returned by our little guy with his eyes looking at the person, and if it was a female classmate, a smile from ear to ear.

Sarah and I have often said that we are lucky to have Elijah in the school system he is in, and his progress has borne that out. When we drop him off in the morning and he gets out of the car with a huge smile while running for the front door, sometimes laughing with another student, he looks like any other typical first grader. What more can a parent ask for?

Hold that Tiger

Just like the proverbial Jewish wedding, Halloween seemed to go on forever this year. Because parent-teacher conferences were scheduled for the end of the week, Elijah's school costume party and parade was held on the Wednesday before Halloween. Usually Elijah's costume is something that is bought at the last minute because of a complete lack of interest on his part. Since Star Wars and ninjas are as foreign to him as they would be to a child in a Third World country (no, that's wrong -- a child there would be more likely than Elijah to know who Luke Skywalker is), the costume-selection process this year seemed destined to be futile.

But that wasn't the case. As we went costume-hunting, Elijah shocked me by saying, "Daddy, I want to be a tiger." This was a first. Not once had he ever WANTED to be something for Halloween. My excitement was tempered, however, when I discovered that the only tiger costumes available at any local store were for either infants or women with very small waists and very long legs. Thank God for the Internet! A Google search found a costume store in New Jersey with the perfect tiger outfit, and a delighted Elijah soon had his costume, which he loved wearing and which was big hit with other felines in his class.

That was just the first time that week he wore the stripes. On Saturday, the day before Halloween, our health club held a "Spooktacular" that had all sorts of activities (including face painting, a bounce house, pumpkin decorating and pony rides) for kids. The little guy had a great time.

At last the big night arrived, and after some hugs from a very cute "Cat in the Hat," Elijah was ready to collect candy. Trick-or-treating with Elijah used to be a very quick experience. The first couple of years, it was two or three doors and then back to the house. Then last year, he realized that the more houses he went to, the more candy he would get, so we would go door to door until he would get a large candy bar (usually a Crunch Bar), and then he'd want to go home immediately to devour his gains. This year was different. He was on a mission to get candy, and lots of it.

As I tried to explain to Elijah, first you ring the doorbell, then you say "trick or treat," then allow the person to put some candy in your pumpkin (bag). You don't grab. And you thank them. Well, even the best-laid plans ....

At the first house we went to, our neighbor told Elijah to "grab as much as you want." Though he didn't do it then, the thought stuck with him, and it was a constant battle at every succeeding house as his hand reached out for the bowl brought to the door and he tried to grab a handful of candy. That was the only real problem of the night (if one doesn't include the fact that Elijah would ring the doorbell and say "trick or treat" at almost the same time, which led to many awkward moments of silence when someone finally opened the door. But at least he always said "thank you.")

We went up and down the blocks in our neighborhood and collected lots of candy before the little guy announced he wanted to go home and eat some of his stash. The first thing he devoured when we got home was a large Hershey Bar given to us by one of our neighbors, who also happens to be our dentist. Do you think there is a connection there? As Elijah's chocolate- smeared face shows, it was a good night to be a tiger.

It Was a Beautiful Day

The words of Bono and U2 couldn't be more apt for the Walk Now for Autism Speaks event this past weekend. From the weather, which was double the temperature from last year, to the turnout of walkers and volunteers, it was a great day at the Kansas Speedway.

Of course even great days with Elijah can have some stress to them. I had left early to help the committee get things ready at the site, so I was unaware that Elijah had informed Sarah he wanted to finish the Microsoft Word project (probably recreating some signage he had seen) he was working on and didn't want to go anywhere for the foreseeable future, even if it was an outdoor party. However, after some arm twisting (verbal, not literal), the little guy and Sarah were on their way.

While all of this drama was occurring, I was helping the volunteers get situated and seeing if the vendors needed any help getting set up. It was a nice feeling to see a constant flow of people coming to the main area, all of whom volunteered to help Walk Now for Autism Speaks. Yes, I knew that some did it for community service credit at school, while others had been asked (coerced) by their company to be there, but whatever the reason, they all seemed happy and eager to be part of the Walk experience.

When Sarah and Elijah arrived I could tell it had been a stressful ride. I told Sarah to go relax and have something to eat, while I took the little guy around. Our first stop was to see Miss Tiffany, who ran the summer camp Elijah enjoyed so much and was a vendor at this event. The second he saw her, a huge smile ran across his face (and hers too!) followed by hugs and even more smiles.

Right after that we ran into two of the employees of the children's center at our health club, Ali and Christian, who had signed up to walk with us. That brought another big smile and a question for them from Elijah: "Where's Kelsey?" Kelsey was the third member of health club contingent, the first one to sign up to join us, and to be honest, Elijah's favorite. (Although for the last few weeks, Elijah has been telling Katie, who works the front desk, that she looks beautiful and he would like a hug from her. When I reminded him that he had told me that Kelsey was his favorite he replied, "I like Kelsey, but I love Katie P.")

After being delayed by traffic, Kelsey arrived, and that brought the biggest smile of the day from Elijah. After the girls made Elijah a bracelet with his name on it (more on that later), we set off with about 8,000 others to Walk for Autism Speaks. All during the walk Ali, Christian and especially Kelsey interacted with Elijah so much that not once did he ever whine or complain about walking. What makes events like these so special for me is to see such a large crowd and know that no one is judging your child as if they were different, but instead understanding your family and what they go through on a daily basis -- that there is a community out there for support. Yet, as wonderful as that feeling was, for me that wasn't the most memorable part of the walk. What I found extraordinary was the number of spectrum kids and their parents who knew and greeted Ali, Christian and Kelsey and the genuine affection that both sides shared for each other. What a wonderful sight to see! It made me very proud to have those three on Elijah's team.

Once the walk was over, Sarah took the little guy home and I helped volunteers and committee members clean up the grounds. Little did I realize a crisis of major proportions was brewing at home. The bracelet that Ali and Kelsey had made for Elijah, the one he had proudly worn all throughout the walk was, as he discovered later, missing two foam letters from his name. The magnitude of this trauma was expressed to Sarah through teary eyes and breathless crying that was more intense than when he got his first shot.

Upon my arrival home, I was instructed by Elijah that I needed to immediately go back to the walk area, find the missing yellow "L" and "H" and bring them home. Obviously that wasn't going to happen, so a "plan B" was devised. A trip to Hobby Lobby to buy a bag of foam letters (along with a chocolate chip cookie) turned out to be our solution. The bracelet was made whole again and the memory of the happiness and joy of the afternoon festivities was quickly restored.

Any day that can have as many hugs and smiles as this one did is truly a beautiful day and one I hope we can wander through again.

Monkey See....

As you can see by the picture to the left, taken on the first day of class, Elijah is happy to be back in school. Outside of a couple of problem days early (without going into detail, let's just say I curse the person who thought automatic flush toilets were a great idea for children under 10!), he seems to be moving forward. At the two birthday parties that have taken place so far this school year, he has recognized and greeted classmates, laughed and played WITH them and has been asked by a female first-grader to "tell me I'm gorgeous." Pretty typical behavior, and that's all one can ask for.

Those of you who bought wrapping paper, cookie dough or something else that you probably didn't need are aware that the major fundraising event of the school year is now over. And yes, Elijah did qualify (thanks again to all those who sacrificed) for his backpack monkey, but the story doesn't end there. From the very first day he saw it, Elijah wanted the "big monkey with the blue eyes." I knew that the backpack version of Max was a gimme, with grandparents and aunts willing to contribute, but the "big" monkey was given only to those who sold at least one hundred items. Needless to say, that wasn't going to happen, yet every day, Elijah would ask if I had brought the big monkey home.

So, being the manipulated father that I am, with Elijah's happiness my only concern, I contacted the company that was running the sale and got the local representative's name and number. I then called her, explained the situation and asked if I could buy a large monkey for my son. Yes, she did have a monkey available, and she would be happy to sell it at cost. For a mere $8.50, Elijah could reach the nirvana that only a large, blue-eyed monkey could bring. When I told Sarah what I was doing, I was somewhat surprised she didn't put up more of a fight, but instead agreed that this was a small price to pay for childhood bliss. A check was sent and arrangements were made to have Max delivered to Elijah's school.

It turned out to be a HUGE success. When Sarah went to pick up Elijah at school and presented him with the monkey, his smile was truly from ear to ear. When he walked out of the school with the "big" monkey, other kids were in awe: "Elijah got the big monkey! Elijah got the big monkey!" Of course, the little guy was oblivious to this adulation, as he doesn't have the gloat component in his DNA, but Mom made sure that the truth was known as she told the other mothers that Daddy had bought Max. But the little guy didn't care. He had his big monkey with blue eyes, which he now has named George, and it has been his constant companion since he brought it home. I guess money can buy happiness, if it comes dressed up as a four-foot monkey with blue eyes.

Elijah's Take on the Prop 8 Battle in California

Actually, as you can see below, Elijah re-created an illustration from a new book he received entitled "Library Mouse."

I guess I'm just being, as Sarah puts it, squirrely.

We not only survived, but actually thrived and had a great time

Though it may not be what it advertises itself as (the Magic Kingdom), for three days in August, Disneyland was a joy for Elijah and fun for Mom and Dad as well. From our first ride (Nemo's Submarine) to our last (zooming above California as though we were hang-gliding) a smile or sense of awe were Elijah's constant expressions.

When we arrived at Disneyland we immediately made our way to "City Hall" and received a special pass that allowed us, because of Elijah's autism, to avoid most long lines at rides. This brought down the anxiety level tremendously (except when I was asked to go on roller coaster-type rides) and allowed us, over our time there, to hit every ride we wanted to, some of them multiple times.

My anxiety over Sarah taking Elijah on Space Mountain (an intense indoor roller coaster) was completely unfounded, as the little guy bounced down the runway at the end of the ride with a smile from ear to ear. (I'm guessing now that all the children I saw crying by the exit were emerging from the Captain EO 3-D movie theater nearby -- Michael Jackson can be pretty scary, especially in 3-D). Insisting he wanted to go back on the "indoor spaceship," Elijah rode Space Mountain three times during our visit, which made it, along with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, his favorite.

Notice I said Sarah taking Elijah on Space Mountain. She also took him on the Bobsleds, the Rolling Thunder Roller Coaster, the Indiana Jones ride and the Soarin' Over California (simulated hang-glider) rides as well. Daddy does not do heights and fast rides. (I did go with them on the simulated hang glider ride the second time they went on it, with Elijah holding my hand and telling me not to be scared.) But I was along for all the tame rides (and over the three days that meant just about every attraction) and had a great time.

The only sour note (at least for Sarah) occurred when we went on the "Cars" ride. (Oldtimers will remember it as the Autobahn ride.) The "little guy" loved getting behind the wheel, with Daddy controlling the gas, and driving his sports car. Unfortunately, near the end, the car in front of us died and left us stranded in a traffic jam in the hot sun. As Sarah so aptly pointed out, why would anyone fight gridlock to drive to Disneyland, then get on a ride to sit in stalled traffic? I couldn't argue with her logic, but the smile on Elijah's face made the wait tolerable.

Besides the rides (and the daily chocolate-chip cookie), a major highlight for Elijah was meeting Pooh and his friends. Two trips on the Pooh ride wasn't nearly as exciting as getting a hug from Tigger, Eeyore and Pooh himself.

The California Adventure Park was fun as well, especially for Sarah, as she got another roller coaster ride under her belt. (The large loops even scared off Elijah, who told us he didn't want to go on that with Mommy.) The 3-D ride of Toy Story and the aforementioned hang glider movie/ride were the highlights, but for Elijah, perhaps the biggest sensory delight was the large letters spelling "California" at the park entrance. In fact, days later, he wrote the word California (spelled correctly, which I couldn't do until I was much older, and I lived there!) using the same color scheme that was at the park entrance.

Add to the mix a fun (but cold) day at the beach, the incredible hospitality shown to us by Aunt Kathy and Uncle Marv, the generosity and love given to us by Grandpa and Grandma Nessel, and one would have to say that, for about a week, we were at the "happiest place on Earth."