Email from Yoda.

As firstborn gets fully into the swing of a 'real' part time job as opposed to a paper route,  the House of Hartwell has morphed from innocent suburban residence to headquarters of the Gallactic Alliance, may the force be with you.  As part of his online training, Firstborn has to complete Jedi training, which will give him the ability to work more efficiently and possibly move burgers with his mind, yes, hmmmm.  In charge of the Jedi program is Yoda.  Of course.  He is supremely all powerful, yet has to resort to email when contacting my son who obviously isn't tuned in to the force.  Yet.  I sense a disturbance in the force, master......

Pancakeitis

Second son came home mid morning (as did a few of his classmates) with what can only be described as pancakeitis.  The year 7's were making pancakes for sale this morning which unfortunately co-incided with a bug that was doing the rounds, making for lots of post pancake panic and not a little throwing up.   Himself has slept for a few hours, but is still feverish and seriously uninterested in food.   Which totally works for me on the laundry front.  Keep you posted.

Fingers crossed.

Second son is almost a week into his new meds, and things are looking good so far, touch wood.  He's more focused and his appetite has definately picked up, which are both good things.  He seems to be able to work things through to completion more easily, or at least to give them a proper try before asking for guidance.  We'll be going back to Dr B for counselling and ideas on how to lower frustration and improve concentration, and we keep trying to move forward.   Stay tuned....

Second son had clinic yesterday.  It has been decided that we will trial some new medications along with his regulat doses to try and keep him functional and on an even keel.  A new med trial is always tense, especially when you've got kids that are known for their "unusual" reactions to medication.  So we started on a half dose this morning, and we wait to see if himself gets hairy palms or the top of his head blows off.  Neither would be the option we're hoping for.  Plans are well underway for Second Son and the Mother of all Mothers to go to England in June.  They'll be gone between six and eight weeks, depending on what airline they choose.   I am suffocating with envy, but am fully confident that himself will have the time of his life with Nanna, and will return home to us with lots to say and a more outward focus.  Fingers crossed.
We're moving along with the whole vow renewal thing....the fellas have got their costumes almost finished, Firstborn looks like a native of Rivendell, tall and slender and gorgeous,  whereas FF looks like he stepped out of Hagrid's Hut, (big and hairy) but I'm not despairing yet, heehee.   You'd be amazed what a little forcible grooming can achieve, lol.   Firstborn starts his first shift at Hungry Jacks this afternoon.  I have strict instructions to pretend I don't know him, when we drop him off.  It's the whole "hatched-from-a-pod" deal.  Sigh.  Although he doesn't realise we're all coming down there and they boys are going to have lunch while mum and I raid Lincraft.  I'll update later.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

If you've been a reader here for any length of time, you'll know about our many and varied struggles to get Firstborn and Second Son ready to face the world independant and hopefully self sufficient.   Autism is not an easy condition to live with, nor it it easy to live alongside it.   The highs can be oxygen depriving, the lows can make six feet under look like a day at the park.   I have walked so many angry frustrated miles, mostly up and down the footpath at the bottom of our street, while trying to work out the best way to do things that should come naturally but don't.  We've done button phobia,  food phobias,  waitng-for-the-traffic-lights-to-change-to-the-same-colour-they-were-last-time phobia.   We've tried medications that helped and others that were a catastrophic disaster.   And we've started again.  And again.  And again.   We've struggled with relationships,  school programs and bullies.   With organisational issues and bus timetable freakouts.   With unknown substitute teachers and unexplained classroom changes.  And today, Firstborn's case manager rang me to announce that she's going to have to jab him with a fork to elicit some bad behaviour from him, in order to set his next lot of IEP goals.   He's made the journey from frustrated, fearful and unwilling to face any change to a calm, responsible student in the mainstream academic program, looking at University placements.  And we rejoice.  And are thankful.  Always and forever.