St. John’s Episcopal Church offers a nondenominational church service for children with autism and other developmental delays. Although “All God's Children: Raising Children of Faith Through Adaptive Worship” is for all kids, it is focused on kids with developmental or physical challenges. Rev. Andrew Butler says this type of service, “encourages noise makers, a spirited procession in the sanctuary, and a prayer rope for children that extends down the center aisle and brings them together.” The service is 30 minutes long and involves music, Bible stories, Communion, prayer, and a focus on understanding that all children are equal.
Read original article: Montclair Episcopal Church to Launch Nondenominational Service for Children with Special Needs
Twitter
Facebook
By Email
RSS Feed
Please comment on this autism topic.
Repetition...Here I go again!!!
Jun 7, 2009 by AnonymousThis week was much like many others in the respect that I was going through a period of feeling totally overwhelmed with life in general and my emotional pendulum was yet again swinging from one extreme to the other, a phenomenon my family have long since chalked up to mom having “one of her days.” Nothing extremely out of the ordinary actually. I had been asked to submit again further documentation to my insurance company to substantiate the need for my son’s ongoing speech therapy. I had requested and received home work material for the expressed purpose of practicing hard won skills so as to ward off the ever present monster in the closet; regression. I had intended yet again to organize files, stow away winter clothes, check the fit of summer clothes, etc., etc. And then it hit me. As I checked emails, twitter accounts, my space pages and face book…it hit. This emotion that was at once akin to emotional vertigo and short of a panic attack. The overwhelming enormity of all that goes with caring for a child with ASD. It was a feeling that I could not quite place the night before as I watched my son struggle to perform math problems that we had been working on all year and still seemed to just escape his grasp. It was the feeling of clawing your way up a mudslide. It was the feeling of being stuck in one place while the world seemed to move around you. The repetition of it all in an effort to gain some minuscule ground and trying to find contentment in that. When that realization came, with it came the self-loathing. How could I possible feel tired of it, resentful, angry…and if I did, what must he feel?
In reading submissions from others on line and parents that I have personally connected with, I have come to one conclusion; the drive to protect, nurture, and see that our children flourish is all consuming. I have met some truly awe inspiring parents with children on the spectrum and have found evidenced in them immeasurable strength. But almost universally I have found that the same strength that drives us alternatively burns us out. We are called upon to wear so many hats that we find ourselves filled to overflowing. I have sought alternative ways to deal with this sense of feeling overwhelmed…therapy, exercise, prayer and mostly that works. I have learned to reprioritize my life. No longer is it most important that my house be spotless. There are days when I feel it would pass inspection by the Board of Health…barely. No longer are my finances handled with the precision of a calculator wielding accountant…thank goodness for online payments! The laundry may not be done to Martha Stewart’s standards…(ok, did that pile in the corner just move by itself…it’s small, I think I can take it!). Point is I am doing the best I can. Today. And maybe tonight in the solace of my beloved shower I will cry, long, shoulder wracking, hiccup inducing, eye swelling cries that will leave my eyes red and puffy as only my favorite shampoo can. I will toss and turn and watch another episode of Law & Order with one eye on the clock, and then sleep the sleep of a parent whose mind will not be still. Tomorrow is a new day, a new fight, a new challenge. A bus pulls into my driveway and his voice sing-songs on its way out through the closing door…”bye mom, love you” as it has every school day this year. I smile and realize repetition ain’t that bad.
Star of the Week
Oct 23, 2008 by AnonymousThis week, Thomas was the Star of the Week at school. Every kid gets to be the star once during the year, and Thomas, as with many things in his life, was less-than-enthusiastic about the whole thing. He got to bring home Buddy Bear - a little stuffed teddy bear – last weekend so that we could document some adventures with said bear. Thomas wanted nothing to do with Buddy, so Hayley was only too happy to carry him around and sleep with him.
On Saturday, we went to the local seasonally-open Halloween store to buy costumes for the kids. Thomas, as I said in previous entries, wanted to be nothing, never, EVER. However, he relented when bombarded with many options at the store. He finally settled on a cute Darth Vader costume which includes a mask. He surprised us by wearing the mask around the store for the remainder of our shopping trip. Thomas has always been averse to hats, masks and any sort of head-covering at all so we were thrilled by his excitement about the Lord Vader helmet. Actually, he was really good at the store which was filled with many people, of course, but also lots of gory imagery, lights and colors and noises that I thought could over-stimulate him. He handled it really well.
Guess what Hayley decided to be? Or I should ask, guess which Disney Princess Hayley decided to be? Jasmine from “Aladdin.” I wonder which one it will be next year. Both she and Thomas have been whacking each other on the head with the little magic wand the costume came with. We got Thomas a light saber because we’re idiots, but we haven’t really shown it to him yet. He can beat the hell out of us with it after Halloween.
Sunday, my folks came over to watch the Bears game and take us out to dinner to thank Jonathan for all of the ways in which he helped out during Tina’s wedding. While the boys were watching the game (and the kids), my mom and I went to the banquet hall that my sister Tiffany chose for her November 7, 2009 wedding. It’s about half a mile from our house, so we’re thinking of hosting the after-party.
After the game, we went out to dinner. I just don’t dread restaurants the way I used to, and it really is a wonderful feeling. We can go out to eat and as long as the place is reasonably family-friendly, we have little to worry about. Keeping Thomas in his seat can be a challenge, but usually a big bowl of chips and salsa does the trick. We had a good time and enjoyed seeing my folks who hadn’t seen the kids in a while.
Buddy Bear enjoyed all of this immensely.
Sunday night, we made a poster of pictures including Thomas jumping into the pool at the vacation house (one of his favorite things to do), pictures of his family, a picture of pancakes that I cut off the side of the Bisquick box (his favorite food) and a picture of Sophie the Dog. He was to take this to school and share it with his classmates. Given his ambivalence about the whole Star of the Week fuss, I e-mailed his teacher to tell her that Thomas was not enthused about it. She e-mailed me back after school on Monday to say that Thomas actually explained his poster really well and did a great job! One of the things he got to do was bring in his favorite book, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.” Since I come to class on Tuesdays, the teacher wanted me to read the book to the kids, which I did. They seemed to like it; everyone listened and gave me a “firecracker” when I finished. Instead of applause, they clasp their hands in front of them as if in prayer, make a “shhh” noise as they raise their hands, clap them over their heads and say, “Whooooo!” as they wiggle their fingers in the air. It’s really cute and very creative, I think. So I got my first firecracker, which is nice.
The kids worked on patterns on Tuesday, and I was shocked at how well Thomas did with it. They had to choose two shapes, color them in, cut them out and paste them in a pattern on a strip of cardstock. The thing that really surprised me was Thomas’ cutting. He did a great job cutting out the rectangles and circles that he chose. I had just had a discussion with the occupational therapist who said that she was going to be sending home some cutting worksheets for Thomas to work on because he needs a little extra help with that. Once the teacher saw how well Thomas did, she said she’d speak to the OT about it. Actually, Hayley also did a great job cutting her shapes too. The teacher was very impressed with that, and Hayley felt great about herself. I explained that Hayley loves to practice cutting; our dining room table is perpetually covered with tiny little snippets of paper.
Tomorrow is the Halloween Spooktacular at school which is a lot like the Fun Fair that many schools have during the year. I volunteered to provide a baked good for the Cake Walk. Hopefully, I can win it back. Pumpkin spice cake is one of my favorites. I’m wondering how Thomas is going to do with it. If he wants to leave the party early, it’ll be no big deal; we are leaving for Wisconsin from the Spooktacular because this weekend is Pier Removal Weekend. Incidentally, not one of my favorites.
The solution to the potty-training woes, I hope...
Oct 25, 2006 by AnonymousWe’ve had an important potty-training breakthrough!
After four days of continually wetting his training pants (actually yesterday he stayed dry at school), I think I’ve discovered the solution: Cars underpants. At Target a week ago, my husband and I were shopping and I saw some Cars movie-themed regular boy’s underwear, and I decided to get them as an added reward for keeping dry. This afternoon, after the third or fourth pair of soiled training pants, I decided to put Thomas in the regular underpants with no rubber pants over them.
At the potty-training workshop at Thomas’ school a couple weeks ago, I remembered that they had mentioned the importance of having your child help clean up after an accident and not making a big deal of it; that mistakes are a part of life and so on. I was thinking about that and finally decided to just try regular underwear and see what happened. I’d like to mention here that I’m no fan of messes, especially ones involving bodily fluids. After the Horrendous Barfing Flu of May ’06, I was ready to rip out the carpeting, buy plastic blow-up furniture and just live on the bare concrete slab until the kids were old enough to give a few minutes warning before some fluid made its way out of their little bodies. So obviously, it was a leap of faith to let Thomas run around in regular, not-especially absorbent underwear.
I went ahead with it, reasoning that maybe the unpleasant sensation of pee-pee running down Thomas’ leg would be enough to motivate him to hold it, and helping me clean up the puddle would be a good lesson for him. So I let him pick out which underpants design he wanted to wear and said a little prayer.
An hour went by, and his pants were still dry. Somewhat skeptical, I looked around in the obvious places for any signs of puddles and found none. I took him to the potty and a steady stream came forth, signaling that he had held it for a while. I praised Thomas profusely and went about my business for a while longer. Another hour went by, and the same dry underpants were still going strong! I took him to the bathroom again where he not only went #1, but also #2! He did have one accident when he crawled into the kitchen over the counter and was then blocked in by the gate we have. My husband and I were sitting on the couch with our daughter when I heard Thomas say, “I have to go pee-pee I have to go pee-pee I have to go pee-pee.” I jumped up to get him, but by then it was too late. He had gone a bit, but there was no puddle; just some wetness on Thomas’ legs. So we took him to the bathroom where we handed him a wipe and he cleaned himself up. That was the end of that. Then my husband took Thomas to the store where he stayed dry the whole time and still didn’t have to go when he came home!
The magic behind all of this is that I think Thomas felt like those padded training pants were diapers. They were bulky around his crotch like a diaper, and they could certainly contain his urine like a diaper. As soon as I put the regular thin cotton underpants on him, they must have felt different, like something you can’t pee in.
So as elated as I am about having found the solution to this problem (or so I think; we’ll see how he does in the days ahead), I’m a little ticked off that I went ahead and spent all of that money on the eighteen pairs of training pants and rubber over-pants. My husband asked how much we spent on all of that and when I told him, he didn’t seem to mind. I think he would have paid a lot more to get this potty-training thing going. Maybe we can use the supplies for our daughter soon.
Thomas has had a better week so far than last week. Yesterday and today were both “good” days. He did have another accident on the playground today, but it was nowhere near the monsoon-level accident on Monday. Thomas has been singing more songs from school too, and our daughter Hayley loves it when Thomas and I sing together.
He’s been telling us more stories about things that happen at school, like who takes him to the bathroom and what they played with in gym class. Sometimes I have to get right in his face to get the answer to a question though, especially if he’s enraptured by the spinning wheels on his cars. Then he’ll answer me very quickly as if to say, “Hey, you’re bugging me! Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
I’ve also been noticing the importance of choice in Thomas’ life. I’m giving him choices more and more often just to see how he reacts, and I think it’s helping him feel like he’s more in control of things, especially the potty-training. We kind of forced it on him, even though we were pretty sure he was ready physically, but asking him what reward he’d like or what underpants he’d like to wear really seem to help motivate him. I’m just a little concerned that he’ll want to wear character underwear when he’s thirty.