"I'm a Puzzle Piece"

"For You formed my inward parts;

You wove me in my mother’s womb.

I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;Wonderful are Your works,

And my soul knows it very well."

Earlier this week I sent out an email to our friends and family, asking them to participate in The Puzzling Piece i-Pad Challenge (please also see the page link above for more info).

As many of you know, the awareness symbol for autism is a puzzle piece. I've always loved the symbol, and I'm not sure who came up with it, but I'm certain that it was someone who loves a child with autism. Without a pun intended, the puzzle piece just fits so well... and on so many levels.

Shortly after Sam began receiving Wraparound Services, he began speaking, slowly but surely, in sentences, that made sense. One of these times was when he climbed up on may lap, squeezed into me and exclaimed "I'm a puzzle piece mom!!" This just melted my heart. My Little Puzzle Piece... Indeed you are Sam.

I've been sending out emails and having conversations on the phone, telling the following story. I figured I'd blog about it, so I can link it, instead of repeating it over and over (although, I rather enjoy telling the story, but as most of you know "Andrea's Typing Skills " is an oxymoron.)

Sam has been withdrawing from "the crowd" increasingly more, with age. What's upsetting, is that he knows that he doesn't "fit in". What's all the more upsetting, is that Adam, his loving father, knows this feeling all too well, even today. Before the holidays, we had a family get together and all of the kids (mine and the cousins) were having a ball playing together... all day long. I found Sam sitting on the steps alone. When I asked him what was going on he said "I feel like I'm in really tall grass and I can't find my way home. The grass is the people."

Then there were the birthdays, and the holidays... Sam asked me this year if he could eat his cake and ice cream in the tree house (outside in December) "...and the kids can play and I'll come in and thank them for my presents." We knew that we needed to do something. Not just for Sam, but for all of us, who have a hard time understanding how we can help Sam while simultaneously moving on with our day.

After receiving counsel from my moms from my Special Needs Homeschoolers of Western PA , we had to go through a bunch of State red tape (which included a couple evaluations, tons of paperwork, and waiting for the State to handle things... The State "handling things"... oh,help us!), Sam was finally ready for his first day at Wesley Wonder Kids. This is a wonderful, true Godsend, of a program. He attends, twice a week, for three hour sessions. It's a 3 children, to 1 adult ratio. The children are all high functioning autistic children, in need of social skills, and most importantly, a place to go where so-called "normal" children, are not the norm... the autistic kids are!

After his first day there, he was unbelievable excited. On the way home, Sam was telling Adam all the jokes the kids were telling. Sam's jokes (and apparently the Wonder Kid's jokes) are much like Adam's, pretty much no one gets them. =) Sam then said "It's like they speak my own language Dad!" Praise the Lord!

Last night, Johnny and Paolo were lamenting the fact that they didn't have a "cool place like Wonder Kids to go to." Sam wants to bring them along, but obviously, he cannot. The lamenting soon turned into complaining. At first I tried gingerly turning them away from the subject, so as not yell, "Are YOU autistic?!?!?" When that didn't work, I asked the boys if they could think about how Sam always plays alone. If they could think about how they walk away from him when he talks too much. I asked them if they remembered how he is rarely a part of their play time with their cousins and friends. Both boys were already feeling the guilt, but then Sam said "Yeah guys, it's like we're all aliens there, and we all speak alien!" Yet again, after several years, he referred to himself as a puzzle piece... "It's like we're a puzzle, and we all fit together. I'm a puzzle piece."

My Little Puzzle Piece.

...and they became indignant and said to Him, “Do You hear what these children are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, ‘OUT OF THE MOUTH OF INFANTS AND NURSING BABIES YOU HAVE PREPARED PRAISE FOR YOURSELF’?”

Thin & Vindicated (Oh Happy Day)

Today I had a nuclear bone scan. One might wonder how a nuclear bone scan could cause my saying "Oh Happy Day." Let me explain (please note that I'm typing this with a huge smile on my face).

The nuclear bone scan is for some problems I've been dealing with for quite some time now. Going by my history with tests, the scan will not find anything of note for my rheumatoligist, and I'll be left feeling as though I'm nuts... more nuts... still. Again, why so happy?

I was referred to as "thin" 3 times today, by three separate people. WOO-HOO!! This is something I have not heard in several years. "Too Thin" is not a compliment, but one is hard pressed to find a woman who would not feel good about hearing "How do you stay so thin?" Now never mind the fact that my shirt, and scarf, were strategically placed over the fat... whatever, it worked!

Now for the good part. Remember a post of mine from a little over three months ago, where I talked about tripping and falling onto the baby gate? Do you remember how I thought for sure my ribs were broken? Do you further remember how my mother was telling me that I really didn't need to have a chest x-ray, because she "knew" that they were just bruised? I came back from Med Express that night with my tail between my legs, feeling like a wimpy, clumsy, complainer. Not only was Mom right, but I couldn't imagine going through a break, if my ribs were just bruised and they felt that bad.

Well, during the test, the technician said "Have you had some recent trauma to your right chest area?" I said "Yeah, I fell on a baby gate about three months ago and bruised my ribs." She said "Three months ago?? Wow, they weren't bruised, they were broken, and they still are." At this point I tell her the entire story (throwing Mom under the bus), and then she asked me if my sternum was hurt as well. I told her that it hurt really bad, and that I could have sworn I felt it "moving". She proceeded to tell me that "It's pretty much impossible to break your sternum, but it's lit up here, so you must've at least cracked it... You said this was three months ago?" She then went on and on about how bad of a break it must've been, and how she can't imagine what happened to my sternum... I asked her if I could take pictures with my phone.  =)

The icing on the cake was when she brought the images back to the doctor to look at. (While I was waiting, I called Mom to get her apology). The doctor saw the pictures and asked if I was there for trauma! Ha! I am SO not a wimp!! VINDICATION!  I was carrying at least 40 pounds of squirming babies around, cleaning... Leaping tall buildings in a single bound... I made Wonder Woman look like a wimp... okay, I guess I've taken it too far, huh? I've also forgotten, all too soon, that I tripped over and fell... on what I tripped over... Still a pretty good day though. =)

Video taken before Christmas. Poor Santino. I better not be a wimp... 'Data will be a teenager one day. =)