Here's My Post

 My name is Amanda. I'm the mom to three beautiful children. Bryan is 22, Tea is 18, and Matthew is 7. Believe it or not, Matthew was the only child who was planned. Yes, I'm a little older, 43 to be exact. 

I'm a tired mom. Matthew was diagnosed with autism at the age of 3, and he can be a little over the top. Bryan was diagnosed with autism at the age of 21.

How does it feel to be a mom with special needs kids? I'm sure you could ask many moms out there. I can only tell you my experiences. What I can tell you is, in this time in my life, I'm in denial again that Matthew has autism. He's doing so well. I actually have an appointment to get him reevaluated, maybe to see how far he's come? Maybe to see if he's ever really had it?

When Matthew was 18 months old, he could barely speak. He had about 10 words in his vocabulary. I took him to his well-child check-up, and his pediatrician recommended getting him tested for autism. I refused, and his pediatrician said to take him to a speech therapist, which is what he would be basically be treated for anyway. So we started speech therapy.

At two-years old Matthew's words were improving, but once again, at his well-child check-up, his pediatrician encouraged me to get Matthew tested for autism. I once again balked. I just wasn't ready.

When Matthew was 2 1/2, I finally called his pediatrician, defeated by the fact that he really still wasn't talking, among other signs he was exhibiting. He kept lining up cars according to colors in front of colored blocks. He was avoiding eye contact. He was flapping one hand. He screeched. It took us six months, but we got into the University Neuropsycologist specialist, and he was diagnosed.

Matthew started an early education program soon after where he learned to interact with other children, worked on speech therapy, and worked on occupational therapy. He had never liked to get his hands dirty, so it amazed me when his teacher sent me a picture of him finger painting. She laughed in her email that she sent along with the picture, stating that she had to convince him to give it a try, and after he tried it, she gave him a paintbrush right after.

Brushing Matthew's teeth had always been a huge ordeal. We would have to hold him down while he screamed, flailed his arms, and kicked. Frankly, we just gave up. He had his first dentist appointment at a year old and his second appointment at three years old. He would not allow the dentist to look at his teeth, but it was evident that he needed a lot of work at the three-year appointment. So he had to go to the hospital and be put under antiesthetic for that work. He had a full set of x-rays done. In the end, he had eight cavities filled and four crowns.

I think that's long enough. Until next week's dirt!