How Did You Know?

So this is the first in a series of retrospective posts related to how we got here, but before I get into the most common question we're asked lately "How did you know?", I'd like to make a shameless plug. I'm running this year's Houston Marathon (my second) in honor of Kellen by running for the Organization for Autism Research. Should you have a few dollars to spare, I would greatly appreciate it. You can donate here...please pass on to others who might be interested in donating to a terrific cause!

Donate for KK!


So back to the topic at hand...How Did You Know?


In the womb?

Let's see. Was he less active than Larkin? I can't say because I was so busy taking care of an infant...did I miss a sign? I don't think so. I certainly knew what he was doing...if anything he seemed "busier" than Larkin. Now of course, we all know about him being born prematurely, but do I think that played into his autism...no, not really. Yes, he was early, but those were biological issues related to physiology not autism risk....right? Yet, we find ourselves questioning everything...


The first year?

So maybe he rolled over a little later than expected, but even though I gave birth to small babies, they quickly turned into chubby snuggly worms...so I fully blame that on the big baby belly (right?). Looking back in my notes on him as a baby, he was more difficult than Larkin. He had inconsolable episodes (which Larkin never did), he was more temperamental, he was more attached to me, but more concerning...

He didn't wave bye-bye...
He didn't turn when we called his name...
He didn't have any first words...
I've never had the joy of hearing him say "mama" and mean me...

In summary, were there signs? Well yes, I see that now, but I was in denial then.
He also started rice cereal later than expected (because he shunned it), and we had a harder time starting baby food (gagging followed by a general picky eater)...but you're not supposed to compare the first and second kid, so how could I know that something was really wrong? (right?)


The second year?

He walked on schedule...but he still wasn't talking...or waving bye-bye...or turning when we called his name when we walked in a room.

His eating was still very picky, and when we switched to solid food, there was lots of gagging. I remember him surviving on Gerber puffs for quite a while.

His inattention to our voices became a serious concern at 18 months...so we had his hearing tested...it was perfectly fine.

So then we started speech therapy...and got nowhere...and then he almost got kicked out of daycare...because he started biting his classmates, for no discernible reason.


The third year?

It was just past his second birthday, after a few weeks of speech therapy, that the biting outbreak occurred. As part of our strategy, I went to daycare with him as his "shadow"...and by snacktime that morning, I found myself standing outside daycare crying profusely into the phone talking to Patrick. It wasn't just the aggressive attempt to bite (which was disturbing in itself)...it was how far behind he was compared to his classmates. He was unengaged. They would run around crazy and loud, he would attempt to hide behind a bookshelf. They would sit in circle time and sing songs, he would sit in my lap and retreat into himself. They would come too close, be too loud, move too fast, and he would bite to say "leave me alone"...

Something was wrong, I saw it, I knew it, I had known it for months, but had listened to everyone else...
...he's a boy...
...he's second born...
...he has a chatty older sister who talks for him...
...it's normal...
...so-and-so didn't talk until they were 3, 4, 5...
...he's a mama's boy...


That one hit hard...a mama's boy. Did I coddle him too much as an infant? I certainly was careful with him...you know because he was premature and delicate and difficult and...did I know? Did I know even then that he was? I certainly knew before anyone else, before anyone else could detect it and way before anyone else would admit it. But after my shadowing morning, I could take it no more...and no one fought me...because while they did not want to admit it either, they knew it too. So we went forward with his formal evaluation...which is another post in itself...for another night...soon.

A Dog's Life

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming for a dose of life...and death.

We lost our Great Dane Skylar unexpectedly almost 2 weeks ago. It was as unexpected as possible considering that she was 10...and Great Danes have a life expectancy of roughly 7 years...10 being the upper extreme really. So I'd like to take a little time to recount the tale of our sweet Skylar.

Once upon a time I married a man named Patrick...who dreamed of having a dog...but not just any dog...a Great Dane. Luckily, I was an animal lover, and he'd tolerated the cats, so as soon as we were able, we began to look. As soon as we started building our house, we started thinking of a dog. It so happened that each summer we'd go to the huge dog show here in town. I'd LOVE to go by the Great Dane Rescue groups booths and just pet those huge sweet dogs. Well 10 summers ago, we stopped by that booth again, thinking that we might be ready to put our name on the list, thinking we'd be waiting a long time for a puppy. Then that day we walked up and saw the pictures of a litter of Great Dane puppies...and fell in love.

Turns out that their mother had been taken in by the Humane Society a week before. She was so skinny they were shocked when she went into labor the following day. She had 9 puppies...4 lived...2 went on to live a happy, full life at our house : ) We went to visit the foster home thinking we'd pick one, and Patrick immediately picked the biggest boy (that's our Tristan), but Skylar picked him (she came over, laid beside his hip, and refused to move). So we chose them both (designated as BigBoy and LittleGirl by their foster parents), and continued to visit them at their wonderful loving foster home for almost 2 months.

Then our new house was finished. We closed on a Friday, moved in on a Saturday, and the dogs were delivered on Sunday. This house has always been a house of paws.

So now a few random facts and stories about our sweet Skylar:

* She was named for Minnie Driver's character on Good Will Hunting.

* One time her and Tristan were playing and she tackled him so hard that his head put a hole straight through our living room wall...they were 3 months old (the house was less than a month old!).

* She liked to sleep in bed with me whenever Patrick was away.

* When Patrick was home, she slept on the floor on my side of the bed, leading me to always feel for fur with my foot before stepping out of bed in the middle of the night.

* Once when she was younger, she jumped out of the window of the Expedition while it was moving (thankfully only about 10 mph). Scared all of us (we drove straight to the vet), and we always had to keep a close eye on her hips her whole life.

* One time there was a chocolate donut in the back of the Expedition we forgot about, then saw the empty bag and realized one of them had eaten it. We had to take them to the vet and they made them both puke since we didn't know which one was the culprit. Turns out it was not Skylar, she was pretty pissed at Tristan about the whole incident.

* Skylar was always gentle and always loved kids. I used to take them out to soccer games, and Skylar would just lay over and let the kids crawl all over her loving every minute of it.

* She had a way of coming over and laying her big head in your lap whenever you were sad. Instead of trying to play with you, she would simply come over and be sad with you.

* She ate shoes when she was younger...some of them looked like a small shark had taken a chunk out of them. I lost many a flip-flop including my favorite Diadoras, but I miss my Doc Marten Mary Janes the most...

* She loved the cold weather...and the rain.

* She was a good dog, actually followed commands, tried to keep her brother in line as much as she could.

She's been having a hard time the past couple of years. Her hips had caught up with her, so she didn't move around as well but her quality of life was still good. The kids would go and pet her, she'd sleep a lot, she moved slower, but she was eating and happy. She went downhill in the course of 12 hours. Turns out she had a massive tumor that spanned her entire body, and some shift had happened constricting her breathing. The choice (as if there was one) was easy, and she looked at us with such peace that we knew she was ready. Patrick and I were both there with her, she was loved, and she went peacefully.


She sits on the mantle in a gorgeous cherry wood box now. We've thrown all of our love and attention to Tristan to try to get him through this. He's doing ok, but I know he needs to grieve a little too.

These dogs were our children before we had children, when we were trying (and failing) to have kids, they were and are a huge part of our lives.

We miss you Skylar, but we know that you are sprinting across heaven right now feeling no pain. We are lucky to have had you in our lives, and I'm so grateful that the kids were able to know and love you.