Little steps.

I haven’t posted for a while.  Things have been pretty full on of late.  I feel I can see some light at the end of the tunnel but on the way I feel we keep having doors shut in our face.

It all comes down to the usual terms being bandied around, “overstretched staff” ” no funding”  “not enough hours in the day”  usual stuff which I completely appreciate and understand to a point but this is my daughter and she is struggling and unhappy so for fuck’s sake ….. sort it out!!


Smack in the face.

I have today been hit with the realisation that I will out live my daughter,  the hard hitting  truth smacked me in the face while I was doing the sandwiches of all things, but do you know what is worse…. is that I hope this is the case because everyday I become more and more scared for her and fear what will happen to her if I am not around.

It is a reality that I am not comfortable with but a reality none the less.


So, the other day during the Christmas period, my hubbie came in the kitchen and said, “I’ve been reading about PDA” .  Ooooh I stupidly thought to myself, are we going to become one of those couples that make everyone sick with their pda – public displays of affection ?  How exciting, maybe we may even try a little al fresco, if you know what I mean.   Alas no,  it was actually a report he had read about Pathological demand avoidance AKA PDA!!

Aaah, well there we are, that is much more fitting to our world.  After having a really awful, terrible, shit, horrendous and all the other adjectives that describe a period of time known as hell, basically the last 4 weeks of the winter term have been fight or get beaten to an emotional pulp,  we were clutching at straws about Fleur’s deterioating  behaviour at school, when he came across this report and then subsequently got directed to the PDA website,  which is a branch off of the National Autistic Society website and all of a sudden we had a very low key light bulb moment, for in that instance it all fitted, all that we were reading was so true of our girl, it was both scary and emotionally uplifting.

We have informed the school who have welcomed this possiblilty with open arms and are now waiting for Ed psych to re-assess our girl, it is all completely manageable if the right solutions and found and applied to certain situations.

I have been more scared than this and on more than one occasion, but this comes pretty close.  Watch this space is all I and say… if we manage to get some form of diagnosis of  PDA this may open up more doors and help for our girl, we will never stop fighting for you sweetheart.


And so this is (an Autistic) Christmas ….

Here we are then, the big day, the day that the whole world seems to lose their shit over, well not in this house.  Christmas with an Autistic child and a non autistic child is incredibly hard.  As a parent you so, so want to be able to do all the magical over the top things that make truly wonderful memories for your offspring, but sadly this cannot be.

An autistic Christmas Day usually involves treating the day like any other.  Yes we have put the tree up, which Fleur enjoyed decorating, we left a mince pie and milk for FC and a carrot for Rudolph, well me and Artie did, Fleur was really not fussed about feeding the strange over weight man that apparently comes down the chimney!  Every time I say or hear this I just think, god what a load of nonsense who believes this stuff!  We also left the sacks out to be filled.  The presents  in Fleur’s sack were left unwrapped so’s not to cause any further apprehension or fear, there have been no Christmas songs, silly hats or any Christmas paraphernalia.

You know there are some days where you wake up and wish the day was done already, well that’s how I feel, if we can get through the day without any major meltdowns that would be the best present and one that no amount of money can buy.

And do you know what, I think if you asked all the people you knew to truthfully say which kind of Christmas they would prefer, they would choose Fleur’s kind, and society deems them to be the ones who are different, surely it should be the other way around.

Happy Christmas my darling girl, you are the brightest light of all.


Is it wrong to feel ashamed?

The last 10 days have, to put it mildly, been a real fucking challenge.   Fleur has been the most unsettled I have seen her for a long time, there have been numerous triggers for this,  including noisy girls at school, time of the month,  Christmas and most upsetting for me, her Birthday.  Tomorrow Fleur will be 13.  For me this is a huge occasion, one that I want to throw a party for,   shower her with gifts and  truly celebrate this milestone, this is magnified by the fact that when she was 2 weeks old I was told she had a 50/50 chance of survival.

But instead, we are ignoring it to the point of silliness,  if anyone dare mentions it I feel scared that it may tip her over the edge, I keep having flashes of that very famous episode of Faulty Towers, you know the one… Don’t mention the war!

I feel so sad I can’t even cry, I feel ashamed that I resent her for the fact that she is denying me the chance to truly celebrate the wonder that is her.   So instead of all the balloons, cake, candles and banners,  tomorrow will be a normal day, her presents will be snuck into her room unwrapped to be found after school with no mention of why they are there.  It will merge into all the other mundane days that we survive, but in a quiet 10 minutes of the day, I will sing a very quiet Happy Birthday, light a candle, and thank all the distant beings that live beyond our galaxy for blessing me with her, because I know deep down that she is the most amazing beautiful sole,  she is my Fleur.

Happy Birthday beautiful girl.


There is a sequence of events that has to happen in the  morning, in the evening before bath, after bath and before bed.  If this routine or ritual is not followed, things all go a bit messy for our girl and then we all have to suffer the consequences!

There are the wooden dollies that need their clothes changing in the morning,  curtains open, blind open (then shut again to get dressed)  all the sensory lights have to be turned off in the right order, the calendar has to be changed, and dollie has to have her day clothes on, all this before breakfast makes for an exhausting morning especially when you are up against the clock to get out the door on time for school.

The night time routine is much the same but in reverse I guess, the wooden dollies have an extra change of clothes though, they have pre-bath clothes and then night time clothes.

If we try to rush these things, skip part of it, or god forbid do one of the jobs for her, for example dare to shut the curtains, we have to go back to the very beginning, so for goodness sake, remind yourself, however much of a rush you are in do not interfere with an autistic child’s  routine, it will throw them off for the rest of the day/evening and I can safely say, from experience, it truly isn’t worth it!


There is this other thing going on with Fleur, quite a major thing really, one that I may well write about sometime, it is something that consumes me everyday, I have had “therapy” sessions for it, been given pills to cope with the stress of it but none of that really worked for me.  I do so like to have time with my thoughts and be myself, to  just be me and not mum, wife, carer if only for an hour or so.   My therapy sessions are now led by something with 4 legs, a fierce loyalty and a zest for life and walking that makes my heart lift.  She makes me get up every morning, forces me out there to see that the world keeps on turning and keeps me …well fit, fit as a butcher’s dog!   Cookie is my beloved spaniel, we walk roughly 4 miles a day, more if time will allow and she keeps me level,  we walk in the woods,  listen to the birds, breath in the aroma of the forest floor….well I do, she runs off trying to catch that ever illusive squirrel.

She is nutty, sometimes a tad annoying, treads mud through the house, will not entertain a lie in and she smells a bit, but I love her and all that she does for me so unknowingly.