Sock Therapy

Ah, summer. There are so many wonderful things about summer. Lazy mornings without the hustle and bustle of getting everyone ready to be out the door by 8:00 for school. Late evenings spent chatting outside with neighbors while the kids run wild chasing fireflies.

And no socks.

That's right, you heard correctly. One of the best things about summer is socks are no longer a requirement. I'm not talking about my socks. I'm talking about the end to the everyday sock battle with my son.

Jacob hates socks. Every morning the sock battle begins. "Mommy, can you help me put on my socks?" I've flipped back and forth on this. I go through periods where I help him simply because it is easier for everyone involved. No fight, no time wasted, just over and done. Then I flip to the opposite extreme insisting on Jacob putting on his own socks. What should take a few seconds, takes minutes upon minutes that quickly turns into a roaring battleground all for some warm toes.

For a while we had one particular brand that was ok for him. I stocked up on them and it helped. Jacob was able to get them on his feet with little help and little shifting around. But slowly that stockpile has dwindled to just a few paper thin pairs left. I have tried with only failure to find replacements, but every sock I bring home goes unworn and sits in his drawer.

First there is the problem that my son's fine motor skills are simply lacking. It's a very common characteristic of children with Aspergers. He has a very light grasp and touch, so he really has no idea how much muscle is needed to put on socks. I see his attempts and to someone unfamiliar with my son they would appear half-hearted.

Second, he can not stand the seams in the socks. They must be just so, and if they are not right, Jacob yanks them off and starts all over. I've tried explaining he can just gently tug the seams to where they feel right, but that is still a struggle for him. That is why he prefers me to do it. I am thankful for those mornings when the socks are not a problem and I can get the seams just like he likes them the first time.

Third, he feels socks have to be worn. It's part of the daily routine, and unspoken rule if you will, socks go on your feet. The idea of not wearing socks is foreign to Jacob. A few months ago when warm weather was first approaching and after a lengthy session of trying to get socks on his feet, I suggested just going without. What! That was unheard of! Jacob wanted nothing to do with it, and insisted I put his socks on his feet. I quickly reminded him of last summer and wearing flip flops, and thankfully his long term memory did not fail me.

But even though summer is here, the sock dilema has not ended. See Jacob is a toe walker. His sensory issues with touch affect his feet greatly, and it goes beyond just sock wearing. He pretty much walks on his toes all the time. It isn't quite as noticable when he has shoes on, but without shoes, he is on tip toe constantly. As a result he has calves of steel! His leg muscles are incredibly strong. Just try walking on your toes and see how long you last. I know I can't do it. Since he is a toe walker, flip flops are not a good solution either. They don't stay on his feet properly and tend to make him trip and fall more often. So whether we like it or not, the sock battle lingers through the summer as well.

That is until the other day.

My neighbor and friend knowing Jacob's sensory issues, called inquiring about his sensitivity to socks. Her husband's company (www.barkingdogshoe.com) had recently began selling a line of socks specifically for children with sensory issues. She wanted to know if I wanted to try a pair for Jacob, and without hesitation I said yes.

Is it wrong to say a pair of socks can be life changing?

These socks are incredible! The first night she brought them down Jacob wanted to try them on right away. I was surprised by his enthusiasm as we have been down this road before trying every sock out there. Crew socks, cuff socks, no show socks, expensive socks, cheap socks, athletic socks, you name it, we've tried it with no luck.

But I could tell by taking the socks out of the package these were different. There were no seams or heels, and they were super soft. Jacob anxiously put them on his feet. On they went and on they stayed. There was no fidgeting trying to get the seams just right. No yanking them off and then frustration trying to right them from being inside out. No arguing, yelling, or whining. They were just on his feet, and slowly a smile came across his face.

"I like them," Jacob told me grinning from ear to ear.

I think "like them" is an understatement. He wore them the rest of the day, and later that night after getting his pajamas on, he emerged from his room socks still on his feet. "I want to wear them to bed," he told me referring to his new socks. "Sure," I told him downplaying my enthusiasm for these new socks. I've learned to not get overly excited about anything as then it can make Jacob have a change of heart quickly.

Sure enough when I tucked him in that night, the socks were still on his feet, a first for Jacob as he has never slept with socks on before. And the next morning, there the socks were still in place. He wore them the remainder of the day and I had to practically pry them off his feet that night when it was time for his shower.

As he dried off from his shower, he reached for the socks trying to put them back on again. "Jacob, let's wash them and you can wear them again tomorrow," I told him.

I've since ordered a few more pairs to get us through the summer and plan on ordering more once the school year begins. It's funny how something so simple can make such a difference. I only wish I had known about them sooner as it would have saved me all that money and anguish I have spent trying to find the perfect sock in the past years.

If you would like to order these socks for your own child. Please follow this link www.barkingdogshoe.com They may just change your life as well.

My Little Space Invader

My son has separation anxiety. If you have a child with it, you don't need to read any more. You live it, you get it completely. If you don't, I am guessing you are thinking that he gets upset and cries when I leave him.

Yes, you are correct. But it is soooo much more.

We are close, my son and I. When I say close, I don't just mean a close maternal bond. My son is physically touching me most of the day. There is no personal space for me. My space is Jacob's space.

Every morning at around 6:30, I am woken up by one of the sweetest little boys. He climbs into bed beside me, and says, "Good morning, Mommy." Sometimes he kisses me. Sometimes he simply turns on the TV. But always, no matter how far apart we start out, he eventually is touching some part of my body. His little toes will inch over until they are touching my leg. Or somehow we will suddenly be sharing a pillow with his warm breath on my cheek.

I get out of bed knowing I must take a quick shower before the baby sister wakes up. I tell Jacob the same thing every morning. "Jacob, I'm going to be in the shower. Where am I going to be?" to which he answers, "In the shower." No sooner do I get the water started and step in, and there is Jacob "checking" to see where I am or asking some kind of question. Only a few minutes have passed and already he is searching me out.

The day proceeds like this. Wherever I go in the house, Jacob is right on my heels. If I go into the kitchen to make breakfast, he quickly follows. And usually his baby sister is trotting right behind. Go downstairs to the basement to do the laundry? Jacob follows me down and then back up after I finish. Use the restroom without an audience? Unheard of! Even if I lock the door, he is waiting outside or knocking on the door, "Mommy, are you in there?" Sad to say, there are some days I want to not answer just for a moment to myself.

But if he doesn't know where I am, he goes into a panic. One day while he was watching TV with his sister, I told him, "Jacob, I am going to go outside and get the mail." Our mailbox is just across the street, and only takes a minute to get. As I opened the front door returning, I heard his feet running the length of the hallway and him yelling for me. "Jacob, I'm right here," I said as I entered the door. "Oh, I was worried you were dead!" he tells me with a big sigh. Now why would that be your first thought?

Oh, we've tried giving him rewards for playing in his room alone. We've set timers, done sticker charts with great prizes for a few precious moments alone. It works somewhat. I guess it depends on what your definition of success is. If it is Jacob laying in the frame of his door sprawled into the hallway asking if the five minutes is up yet, then yes, it is a success.

There is no playing on his own, unless it involves electronics or chasing his baby sister up and down the hallway. Playing alone to him is a punishment. It's always been this way. We are his entertainment committee day in and day out. It gets exhausting. There is no luxury of our child going into his room on his own to play giving us a clear mind to catch up on daily chores or just take a five minute cat nap. The only time I have for myself is after 9:00 pm once the kids are in bed. Even then when I tuck Jacob snugly into his bed, he wants to know where I will be located in the house. The other night we were cleaning out the garage after we had put the kids to bed. Jacob refused to go to bed and instead sat in the living room until 11:00 despite how tired he was, just so he could be closer to us.

Oh, you might be saying, "But isn't that part of parenting?" I get that. Yes, becoming a parent is self sacrificing of your time and energy. But I'm talking about 100% of my time. Every minute of my day Jacob is a part of, right beside me, needing help with something, wanting something, asking something, or just simply wanting to be near me.

And trust me, it is not that he is lacking for attention. My husband and I play plenty with him. If it was up to me, I would play all day. But the reality of life is that there is work to be done, bills to be paid, dishes to be washed, dinners to be made, all of which gets done with Jacob right by my side.

Moments alone are precious. My husband and I try to give each other needed breaks. Time alone together is about impossible unless Jacob feels comfortable with whom he is staying. Even just having a minute alone with my husband to talk about something important is impossible without Jacob interrupting or being in the room.

Things that other kids enjoy are a nightmare for Jacob. Summer camp? No way is he staying without me. Swim lessons? Again, not going to do it.

But his psychiatrist says he needs to do these things. I get that, and I agree. I also know how hard it is to pry him away from me with a two year old in tow and no one on the receiving end who understands the circumstances. At school they at least "get" that part about Jacob. If they see he is struggling and not wanting to disconnect from me, someone steps in and will physically pull him away from me toward the door. I hate leaving him like that, but I know it is for his own good. But when the person on the receiving end is just a random person unaware of Jacob's separation anxiety, I am at it alone and sometimes it is about impossible.

Last summer at our health club, Jacob didn't want to stay in the kid room despite their own basketball court, Wii games, and huge playground. So what did he do? Opened the door and ran down the hall to find me. They had no idea he had left. He hasn't been back since.

I've learned in the last year to hand him off to someone and fill them in on Jacob and what he is capable of doing. It makes it easier on him if he connects with another adult. And it makes it easier on me prying him away from my leg.

It's been a hard week at our house. Although I miss my son terribly while he is at school each day, I see how important it is for him to have that time away from me. And how important it is for me! When you have someone physically touching you all day long, following your every move, and all the while talking your ear off, you just want your own space and your own thoughts if only for a minute.

Jacob tells me he is going to live at home forever because he never wants to leave me. I'm starting to believe that it could be true. But who knows what the future brings. Maybe the tides will turn once he becomes a teenager and he no longer will want to be close to his mom. Maybe he will shut himself up in his room alone, tuning the rest of the family out typical of every other teenager in America. 


So as hard as it is, for now I must embrace it. He won't be little forever. 

Sometimes I Just Don't Feel Like Making Dinner

We are that family. As much as I hate to admit it, I know that we are.

 I can tell by the looks out of the corners of people's eyes as they are trying to enjoy their meal. Or sometimes it is just the obvious stares. I know it, and I apologize. But sometimes we just have to get out of the house. Sometimes like everyone else, I am lacking motivation to make dinner. Sometimes I just need a break.

Take last night for example. By the time we got home from Jacob's baseball game, it was 7:00. My husband and I were both beat as we had spent the entire day preparing for our first showing of our house that we just put on the market. So dinner had been the last thing on our mind, and there was nothing prepped to cook. Since it was Father's Day weekend, we opted for a night out with my husband choosing his favorite steak place. I really wasn't up for it, but I wasn't up for scrounging something together in the kitchen either. The thought of figuring out what to make and locating all my kitchen items packed away to make our kitchen more appealing, seemed daunting. So dinner out seemed like the most logical solution.

From experience we know that any type of wait for Jacob at a restaurant is almost impossible. He can't stand or sit still and is constantly in motion getting his two year old sister riled up. Typically we avoid eating out on the weekends because of this, but the restaurant we were going to took call ahead seating. Our time was for 8:00.

As we arrived at the very crowded restaurant, I was thrilled we would be avoiding the full waiting area littered with peanut shells. Instead we were instantly seated in a booth near the window. The restaurant was full with every table filled even at this hour. As we sit down, I am all hands trying to remove everything within the vicinity of both my kids, wrangling the salt shaker out of the baby sister's hands and clearing a spot for Jacob so nothing gets spilled.

Jacob settles in next to me and is happy that this restaurant serves warm yummy buns with cinnamon butter. Jacob has little patience for anything, especially food. Immediately he grabs for a bun, which is too hot causing him to drop it, and yell, "Hot, hot, hot!"

Our server is there wanting our drink orders. As I am trying to hear her reply to the drink specials, Jacob is talking nonstop in my right ear wanting to know if he can order the macaroni and cheese. Over and over he keeps asking as loud as possible while his baby sister tries to talk over him. Yes, we already are a chaotic mess at our table as I look at the older couple to our left quietly eating their meals.

Drink orders in, we begin looking at the menus all the while Jacob continues to discuss the mac n cheese option while constantly being in motion. "Jacob sit." "Jacob, please sit down." Over and over, my husband and I remind him of how he is to be acting while in the restaurant, yet he continues to lean on me, or slide under the table.

"Jacob, get off of the floor!" I tell him.

"I just want to sit by my baby sister," he tells me trying to justify his decent to the floor below. It doesn't help that his baby sister laughs at everything he does and finds it hysterical that he is sitting on the floor below her peaking at her.

"Look around the restaurant and if you see any other kid your age sitting on the floor, then you can too," I tell him knowing that it is only my son that chooses to sit on the floor while dining out. This does keep him busy for a minute as he scours the room in hopes of finding someone else sitting below their booth.

And then the clapping starts. And the singing. Oh yes, it's someone's birthday! A great cause for a celebration. But not for our family. "Happy Birthday" is sung quietly at our house. And so as the entourage of restaurant employees flock to the lucky birthday boy's table, Jacob's face perks up and the familiar look of panic takes over.

"I want to get out of here!" he says loudly.

Thankfully I am on the outside of the booth blocking his escape or surely he would have attempted to flee, but instead he is almost in a trance staring across the room at the birthday table. Of course he is standing, to which I calmly try to get him to sit. Finally the song is over, and he sits down.

And just as his bottom hits the booth cushion, another round begins as the employees make their way to another birthday table this time closer to us. Jacob quickly jumps up his hands over his ears.

"It's too loud!" he yells.

It is a little loud as they scream, cheer, and sing ending with a loud "Yee Haw!"

It's over and just as our appetizer gets to our table, Jacob announces he has to go to the bathroom. It never fails. Every time food is brought to our table, Jacob always has to use the restroom. Since it is Fathers's Day weekend, I opt to take him. The problem is, Jacob is very tall for a six year old. He looks more like a ten year old easily. Yet, going into a restroom alone is not the best option for him. He sometimes needs help still, so he heads on in to the woman's restroom with me. I quickly usher him into the first stall, to which he immediately exits.

"I don't have to go anymore," he tells me.

I glance around into the stall and see the automatic flushers. Jacob hates them. They are too loud for him and always take him by surprise. It's one of the things he is supposed to be working on for his psychiatrist.

"Nope," I tell him. "You are going," and I gently push him back in following right behind him. I do my normal mom routine of keeping my hand over the sensor until he is finished and has his hands over his ears. "Ok, mom, you can do it now, " he tells me.

We head back to our table. Jacob picks up right were he left off, talking loudly, playing with the blinds, leaning on me, and trying to descend to the floor. As we wait for our food, my husband and I are constantly giving him direction as to what he is supposed to be doing or not doing. He'll pause or stop briefly, but then does it again as if we never spoke. It's exhausting. How I wish we could just quietly sit and make conversation instead of this game we play.

Our food arrives, and we work toward getting everyone settled. It is a flurry of activity. Cutting this, sharing that, cooling this down, "Don't touch that, it's hot", a little ketchup there, etc. We barely hear our server as she asks if everything is to our liking. How would I know? I haven't even noticed the food in front of me yet.

And just as I go to take that first bite..."I'm going to throw up! I have to go to the bathroom!" Jacob says loudly.

Seriously!

"I'll take him, " my husband graciously says.

We both know he really isn't going to throw up. This happens every meal we eat out. Jacob eats too fast and too much and really just needs to use the restroom.

I start to take one bite of my steak, but am feeling guilty eating warm food while my husband is helping Jacob. I look over at the baby sister who had been singing, but has suddenly stopped, and sure enough I see the look.

"I pooping!" she tells me and everyone else within ear shot. *sigh* Really?

Not that I should be surprised. There are many a meal where there is no one at our table. I'm sure servers come back to check on us all the time thinking we have skipped out on our bill, only to find we are both in the restrooms with different children. It's a guarantee at every meal.

And just then the music gets loud in the restaurant and I see all the servers taking their spots in the aisles to dance. Great, an obstacle course to the bathroom. As I grab the diaper bag and the baby sister,   Jacob and my husband round the corner back to our table. Jacob is smiling and dancing along, and my husband spotting the diaper bag on my shoulder says, "Seriously" and lets out a little laugh.

Baby girl changed, we return to our table. I notice a new couple sitting across from us. I can't tell if they are annoyed with each other, or already annoyed with my son. Sorry, but if you were wanting a romantic meal, I'm not sure your local steak joint with peanuts on the floor is the best choice. "It is what it is," I think as my son lays down across my back because his tummy is too full.

As I take the first bite of my steak, I look around the restaurant. It is loud and most everyone is oblivious to my family. Sure the few fortunate people near us got a glimpse of our life, and I do apologize for that. I know my son is loud and never stops talking. I know that my baby girl yelling, "No, no, Jakey!" to her brother when he tries to steal her food is bothersome. I know that him laying on the floor covered by peanuts is gross. I know him fiddling with the blinds annoys the entire row of patrons. I know that the jumping, bouncing, talking, moving, fiddling, singing, noise making, etc, etc, gets to be too much.

I see it all. It's not that I don't notice. I just don't always know what to do. I have no magic answers to my son's actions. I have no magic answers to Aspergers.  But just know I am doing my best.

And sometimes I just don't feel like making dinner.

Just a Typical Aspergers Kind of Day

Aspergers is 24/7. That's our reality. It just is.

Many times I have had people close to us say they didn't realize how it effects our family on a daily basis. They may see Jacob in short spurts or little glimpses, and they think all is fine. But Aspergers is always there, good and bad.

Here's a glimpse of a typical day for us.  A day in the life of Aspergers.

Last Saturday was a busy day for us.  I knew we would be running from the start, which always makes for a crazy day for anyone, but when you have no idea how your child is going to respond, it makes it even more crazy.


7:00 am: Jacob is up and raring to go. He is busy writing signs for his candy stand he is planning on having at our neighbor's garage sale. The relentless asking of "When can I have my candy stand?" starts. Over and over, he asks the same question. This is typical for Jacob. I have read that many people with Aspergers have limited short memory. Jacob can ask me the same question easily twenty times in a ten minute time with no regard to the fact he has already asked.

8:00 am: The garage sale and candy stand are going strong. For being socially awkward, Jacob does a great job of approaching people and kindly asking if they would like to buy some. Maybe he is a little too persistent as I see a few people annoyed that he is following them around as they try to shop. He totally misses the social cues that these people are not here for the candy.

9:00 am: Jacob's old crossing guard from school stops at the garage sale. She is such a sweet older woman who used to greet Jacob each morning with "Well good morning, Mr. Jacob". I am thankful that he waits until she is out of ear shot before he asks me about her hair. "Mommy, Ms. A's hair is very different!" "Maybe his social skills classes are working", I proudly think grateful he didn't mention the obvious large gray wig upon Ms. A's head.

9:45 am: Jacob is mad. I am closing up shop on his candy stand as it is time to head to his social skills class. He doesn't want to leave his friends and for a second I think about letting him skip. Then I think about the non refundable $50 I pay each time and I guide him to the van with his dad. I am surprised there is no meltdown, but am guessing it was warded off by promises of doing his candy stand later in the day.

11:00 am: Jacob and his dad return from his class. I am always anxious to hear all about it. Today's topic was about "motions" Jacob tells me. I learn from my husband it was "E-motions". Jacob begins to tell me how his words were scared and disappointed and he is to act them out for the class. He shows me the face he uses for both, and there is no noticeable difference between the two. Apparently Jacob had a really hard time with the class. I am a little taken aback. I have talked about emotions to death over the years with Jacob and I always thought he "got it". This was something that I didn't think fit Jacob about being an Aspie. I guess I was way wrong. The teachers had them watch videos with no sound and they were to talk about the feelings of the characters. Jacob had no idea. He also couldn't comprehend that things he does effects how other people feel. It explains a lot and has given me a focus for the summer.

11:30 am: We arrive at the portrait studio to have the kids pictures taken. It has been well over a year since I have had any photos done, but I am not worried about how Jacob will react. Last time he really hammed it up and loved it. As we are settling in, I notice a large extended family getting their pictures taken.

11:35 am: Boy, am I wrong. Jacob is adamant about not getting his picture taken. I am guessing it stemmed from the loud cheering coming from the group before us. They were trying to get a small boy with Down Syndrome to smile, and with each cheer, Jacob covered his ears. I am assuming Jacob thought this was part of the deal and this large group would be cheering for him as well.

11:40 am: Somehow we convince Jacob to make his way back into the studio, but upon seeing the flashing light, he bolts. My husband gives chase as I explain to the photographer that our son has Aspergers. Thankfully she is patient and after a few more times of Jacob running and a lot of coaxing, he comes back with the stipulations that the photographer stands a good 6 feet away. It takes a while, but he begins to relax. I realize everything will be ok when he announces out of no where to the photographer, "My neighbors are having a garage sale today." My son loves to talk to people, but never quite knows the right words at the right time.

12:00 noon: As we are going though the photos picking out the very few that are worth keeping,Jacob is running around the studio chasing his baby sister. I see all the other families of younger children looking at my son. I finally settle him in on a couch and he sits next to a boy a little older than him. I am proud when I witness him sharing his Nintendo DS with the boy and striking up a conversation even if it is about what is on the screen.

12:30 pm: We head to a local BBQ joint for lunch while waiting for our pictures to print. Again as we wait in line, Jacob starts with the relentless asking of the same question over and over. This time he is inquiring as to if he can have the macaroni and cheese. My patience is wearing thin as I try to read the menu myself while repeatedly answering yes to Jacob's macaroni request. You would think by now he would know the answer since he always gets the macaroni and cheese here.

12:45 pm: Jacob is finished eating first and gets up from the table. Without making too much of a scene, we try to get him to sit back down while the rest of us finish eating. From experience, we know that is an impossible task for Jacob to just sit. Instead he begins a pretend game of baseball and I am thankful the restaurant is almost empty. My husband gives him a task of getting everyone at the table ice cream. A man walking past Jacob makes a joke about his ice cream and Jacob hurries away. When I ask him why he didn't respond he tells me, "Mommy, that man is a stranger!" The stranger danger talks have apparently sunk in, yet understanding the difference of just being polite has not.

1:20 pm: We are driving home with both kids talking non stop in the backseat. It is a rare occasion that Jacob is quiet. I am tired and wishing this was one of them, yet he continues to talk non stop wanting us to answer animal game questions. I am thankful when my husband agrees to do it this time.

1:30 pm: Pictures in hand, we pull up to our house. Jacob has strict instructions to go inside and get dressed for his baseball game before starting his candy stand, yet he runs instead over to our neighbor's house where the sale is still going strong.

3:15 pm: We are at Jacob's baseball game and he is up to bat. If you know my son, you know that baseball is pretty much his life and one of his obsessions. He can copy every batting stance of his favorite team. He's a great hitter, and I am no longer a nervous wreck at his games worried he will get upset by the call or the fan's reaction. I notice as he is up to bat that his stance is not his but instead one of his favorite players. After two missed balls, I call out to him to "Be Jacob" instead, and sure enough he is able to smack the ball and get on base. I remember how last year at this time he would get upset if the crowd cheered, where now he is all smiles and gives me a thumbs up from second base.

5:00 pm: The game is done and most everyone else from the team has left. It is just our family and one other player and his mom. They had provided drinks and snacks for the team that day, and the mom suggests to her son that he should dump the ice water left in the cooler over my husband's head. Being the coach and a good sport, my husband is all for it, and as the ice water comes down, Jacob starts yelling. He is mad that his dad's shirt is wet, and before I can begin to reason with him, he takes off running the length of the baseball field right for the road.I hate that he is a runner when he gets scared. I never know when he is going to stop. I am thankful when he stops short of the street. We all just stand waiting, not sure how to react as we don't want this to escalate any more than it has already. The other mom offers to talk to him, and we agree. Sometimes things come better from someone other than your parents. As she takes off to talk to Jacob, her daughter asks me, "What's wrong with him?" Hmm... how to answer that. Unsure, I just let it go and am happy when Jacob returns to us calmer than he left.

5:30 pm: We are home and Jacob is playing his Wii. As he plays he makes the same "eeeeeeee" sound he has made for years when he is deep in concentration. He is calming down for the day. I have become so accustomed to this sound I don't even notice it anymore. I think it is calming for me as well, because I know Jacob is peaceful.

7:00 pm: Dinner. Nothing special, just frozen ravioli with canned sauce. I never know how dinner will go. Sometimes all it takes is Jacob not liking the way the food looks on his plate and it can start a huge meltdown. Tonight could be one of those nights, as he begins the meal with "ewwwww....I don't like this green thing!" referring to the spices in the sauce. I do not give in, and insist if he doesn't like it, he needs to pick it out himself. This meal is just like every other with Jacob taking a bite and then standing and pacing the room, only to return to take another bite and pace again.

7:45 pm: Getting Jacob in the shower and in his pajamas is a nightly fight. Tonight is no different as he is playing baseball in the living room completely naked except for his blue knee high baseball socks. My husband and I both prod him trying to get him into the shower. Finally he makes his way to the bathroom, only to hear him say, "Mommy! I need your help!" He can't get his socks off. Socks are a daily struggle in our house. He can't get them on, can't get them off, and can't ever get them just right because of the seams. He is desperately in need of new socks, but all the ones I bring home from the store go unworn. Instead he wears the same few that don't bother him and are paper thin on the balls of his feet from walking on tip toe.

8:20 pm: Jacob is finally in the shower.

8:50 pm: Jacob is finally out of the shower. I explain to him how we have just wasted over an hour trying to get in the shower and then taking his shower. Oh, how much extra time we would have if this wasn't an every night occurrence.

9:00 pm: PJs are finally on and the night is winding down. Jacob's mind is racing as he is worried about the weather. "They said there is a chance of rain. Is it going to be storms?" he says as he makes a whimper sound. We tuck him in bed and kiss him goodnight reassuring him that the weather is fine.

9:05 pm: I am settling on the couch to relax for the first time, when I spot Jacob standing at the end of the hallway. He is whimpering again about the storms. Storms that more than likely won't even come. I reassure him again, and send him to bed.

9:06 pm: Again out of bed and crying this time worried about the storms.

9:08 pm: Out again and scared there could be storms.

9:10 -9:40 pm: Out... in...out...in...out...in, you get the idea.

9:40 pm: I convince Jacob to put on his earphones to drown out any storms that may be lurking in the area. I know the forecast is for some rain, but I am hoping it misses us as I am ready for the day to end.

10:35 pm: I hate that every night my son is a bundle of nerves trying to clear his mind of all the things that scare him. I am thankful he is finally asleep, and I am exhausted as well.

Some of our day is very much typical of Jacob's age. Some of it is just Jacob. But yes, some of it is clearly Aspergers. Some days are better and some days are worse. Today was one of the better ones as there were no major meltdowns. But tomorrow's a new day, and we never know what it could bring.

Empathy at It's Finest

It is often said those with Aspergers lack in empathy. There are times when I would agree with that statement. Times when I want my son to realize how much his words can sting, or the scar from his hitting is much deeper than the red mark his hand left on my skin.

But then there are times when my son surprises me beyond measure. And that's what happened yesterday afternoon.

It's no surprise my son loves baseball. I've mentioned it many times in my posts as it is such a big part of our life. And more than anything he loves playing baseball with his older twin cousins. I'm guessing his love of baseball stems from years of watching them play baseball. So it was a given that Jacob would embrace the sport as well.

When Jacob was just a little boy, his cousins loved nothing more than to take him out on the field and have him run the bases. They'd toss him the ball over and over, letting Jacob continually be the batter. Hours upon hours were spent patiently teaching Jacob to hit and throw stopping only because the day had given way to night. Every time we were together, baseball was played.

But with anything, time brings change. My nephews older now and almost sixteen, want to spend their days with their buddies. Their schedules are busier, their school work more demanding, and their time to spend chasing baseballs is limited. But even if it's not as often as Jacob would like, they somehow always find a little time to hit a few balls with my son.

Yesterday after returning from over a weeks stay at his grandparent's house, Jacob couldn't wait to call his cousins. We weren't even in the door, and already he was wanting to call them. He had missed them terribly. It's always hard for me because I know at sixteen, the boys have much bigger plans and sometimes just aren't up for hanging out with a six year old. I get that. I was sixteen at one time, too. I can't say I would have been as patient and giving of my time as them. And so I am always hesitant to have Jacob call them. I hate seeing him crushed if they are busy, and I don't want him to come across as a pain to his much loved cousins.

Since my nephews had gotten a new puppy during our absence, they were eager for us to meet the new addition, so we headed over to their home. Of course for Jacob that meant a little baseball. It didn't take long for him to convince his cousins to play a game with him in the backyard. I on the other hand had errands to run and groceries to fetch after being gone for over a week. I was grateful when my sister volunteered the idea of Jacob staying while I ran to the store, leaving Jacob to play baseball in the backyard with his one cousin.

About halfway through my grocery shopping, I received a call from my husband. He began, "Now don't freak out or anything." Ok...really? How can I not freak out when you start like that? Apparently my nephew had been seriously injured and they believed he had broken his leg. The ambulance was on it's way. Aside from my obvious concern for my nephew, my thoughts went to Jacob. How would he handle being right in the middle of an emergency. And the last thing my sister needed was attending to Jacob instead of her son. Knowing my husband could get there sooner, I had him rush over to get Jacob, so he would not cause more anguish to an already serious situation.

When I arrived home with my van loaded with groceries, there was my husband and Jacob sitting outside on our steps. It was an unusal sight, as Jacob is normally in motion. But there he sat calmly, deep in thought next to my husband head slightly bowed. As I pulled in the driveway, he slowly stood and walked toward the van. Not the usual commotion of activity I am used to when arriving home. Typically Jacob is running toward  me excited and happy to see me. I could tell his heart was heavy.

As I opened the door, Jacob approached me and said, "Mommy, I have some bad news." I could feel his sadness and despite the fact I already was aware of his news, I let him share his story with me. He went on to tell me in detail how his cousin had went to field a baseball that Jacob had hit, his foot going one way and his leg the other. He fell to the ground and yelled, "Mom!" Jacob told me that he went over by him and asked if he was ok. At that point my sister came out, realized that it was pretty serious, called her husband  and 911. During this time Jacob stayed right by his cousin's side calmly reassuring him that everything would be ok and that his mom was calling "991". (We have since practiced the correct number!)

As I hugged my son tightly he said, "Mommy, I stayed right by him because I wouldn't want to be alone if I was hurt."

That is empathy at it's finest.

Jacob knew. He knew how he would feel, and he transferred that feeling to his cousin. He was able to put himself in his cousin's shoes and reacted appropriately. He handled the entire emergency calmly, from the beginning, to the end with the ambulance sirens wailing. This from a little boy terrified of loud noises who can't sleep at night from all his fears of fireworks, thunderstorms, and balls rolling down hills. He knew what needed to happen and he knew he needed to be there for one of his very favorite people in the world.

My nephew's leg was in fact broken. It broke right above the knee and was a pretty bad break. He had surgery today and will be in the hospital for a few more days. We just returned from visiting him. I knew it was important for Jacob to see his cousin and know that he was going to be ok. Jacob brought him tons of candy and treats and informed him that it was ok to share with him. And as the two shared a moment together, my nephew normally a tough kid, got a little choked up. I think he, too, knew how big of a moment it had been for Jacob, and how much it showed the deep connection they have together. Jacob's cousins mean the world to him. They always will.

And once his cousin is home, I'm sure it won't take long for Jacob to be counting the days until they can play a little baseball again together.