Serenbe, Georgia - Eclectic Country Living

This summer we're going back to our roots or rather back to the way our grandparents used to live before the jet-setting, overspending electronic age and the current great recession.

To make a long story short, we're playing Georgia traveler and spending our weekends discovering all the little gems, within driving distance of Atlanta. Last weekend we visited the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. Today, Serenbe, Georgia - a natural community based on traditional values and environmental sustainability.

We took the scenic route on our way to the Serenbe Saturday Farmer's Market and only got lost a couple of times, but at least we got a quick look at downtown Palmetto, Georgia on the way.

The farmer's market at Serenbe varies in size depending on the weekend. This weekend it was fairly small, but everyone was amazingly friendly.

As usual, I started out chasing 7-year-old autistic Taz from booth to booth telling him not to touch. Surprisingly, all of the vendors took him in stride. He's just a boy, he can't help it, they said.

True, but I'm used to getting stares or glares whenever we go out, because Taz is a very sensory boy. He has to touch everything and he's often like a bull in a china shop.

Not today though. Even the vendor with carved pens and kaleidoscopes kindly informed me that their goods are all child proof (4 grandchildren). They didn't even blink an eye when I said we call him the Tazmanian Devil.

So I relaxed and gave the kids free rein within sight distance of course.

We snagged some great fresh veggies, found a landscape designer, who makes container gardens out of eco-friendly shell-shaped cement and explored a few shops, including an activities and adventure shop called Getting Around.

Getting Around offers golf-cart and bikes rentals, tours and outdoor adventures, including a kayaking trip on the Chattahoochee river next month, which I hope to go back for.

We ended out tour with a late breakfast at the Blue Eyed Daisy Bakeshop, an eco-friendly eatery just up the road from the farmer's market.

And, now that we know the way there (we found a short-cut on the way home), we will definitely be back for future Saturdays.

Nianya

P.S. Taz has an unusual fear of dogs, but he had no problem with the adorable squealing pig (see Serenbe slideshow above) that sat at the table next to us during breakfast. Go figure.

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth. . .

My generation all grew up on that now famous Christmas song. I remember when my ASD daughter lost her two front baby teeth at about 5.5 years and anxiously waited until her permanent teeth filled in the gap. We've been very lucky with our daughter. She has healthy teeth that came in relatively straight and has tolerated her braces well (okay maybe not well) for more than 1.5 years (mostly b/c I got adult braces at the same time.)

We're not so lucky with her almost 7-year-old ASD brother, who was premature, suffered from severe reflux from birth until recently, was diagnosed with asthma as an infant, and, as if all those factors aren't bad enough for baby teeth, has a congenital problem with his enamel or rather the lack thereof.

All of these factors resulted in major restorative oral surgery at age 4.5 and we are now facing another round of surgery next week, to repair, crown and/or remove his remaining baby teeth. Oh, and I forgot to mention that he's also extremely small for his age with a tiny jaw i.e. no room for permanent teeth.

So next week he goes back to the ER for his fifth surgery in less than 7 years. When he wakes up from the anesthesia he's going to have huge gaps in the front of his mouth where the 8 teeth that have to come out are currently located.

We have gotten through his prior surgeries by not telling him much of anything. We take Dr. Bear to the hospital with us, along with comfy blankets and stuff for our stay, we play while he gets his prophylactic breathing treatments and loopy juice (Versed, great stuff) and kiss him and Dr. Bear goodbye on the way to the OR, while he giggles away.

A hour, or two or three later, he comes back to us sleeping like an angel, until he wakes up feeling like a bear in a bear trap (Versed, nasty stuff). He screams, tries to yank out his IV and with any luck goes back to sleep for awhile while his pain meds. kick in.

Sounds like a routine, huh.

NOT!!!!

I have no idea how to explain to him that he's going to wake up without his teeth. We can't tell him before hand, he'll freak. He has major SID issues with his mouth, textures and food. Last time, all we said, once the nasty anesthesia hangover wore off, was that he got these great new silver teeth (expensive stainless steel crowns). This time all he will have left are silver teeth!

We know it's only for months, maybe a year or so, before his permanent teeth fill the holes. We also know that we don't have the luxury of removing these teeth one at a time, like most dentists would do as the perms come in. With a medically compromised child, you have to be aggressive. The last thing we want is to have to go back to the OR again in another year.

I keep praying that the next surgery will be his last. I will continue to do so, even though we know he has a 50/50 chance of needing sinus surgery again at age 8 or 9. We also found out during this go round that he has a narrowed airway. I guessed that a while ago, since he keeps getting croup, which he should have long out grown, but hearing it from a doctor hurts.

Still, we are very blessed, and once he gets over all this, he will probably have a great time wearing a variety of fake teeth.

He's a clown, that Charlie Brown.

Nianya

One picture is worth a 1,000 words. . .

Over the past three years, since our daughter (left) was diagnosed with high-functioning autism, we have struggled to come to terms with the lifelong limitations that she will face growing up and living in a society, that, until recently, thought autistic children merely sat in corners and banged their heads on the wall.

In truth, I'm usually the one banging my head on the wall out of frustration with teachers, other parents, coaches and peers, who lack even a basic understanding of what my child goes through on a day-to-day basis.

When our daughter was only two years old, we enrolled her in gymnastics to help with her coordination and when she was five she started playing soccer. I have to admit that we knew very little about autism back then and we had no idea that our child was on the spectrum. We only knew, from experience, that she had serious speech problems, poor coordination and thrived on routines.

Gymnastics and later soccer became part of her weekly routine. Three years later, one of the local coaches called and asked us to bring her to tryouts for the Academy team. At only eight years old, we thought she was a little young to be involved in a team that traveled around the metro area and played in tournaments, but we gave it a try.

Over the past four years, our daughter has stayed on the Academy team through a succession of coaches and changing teammates, which caused a great deal of confusion and a definite lack of stability.

The result, our daughter's performance in any given practice or game depended entirely on her mood that day. If she had a good day, she had a good game. She was ON. If she had a bad day, she could barely focus.

And the worst thing for us was her lack of camaraderie with her teammates. I have lots of team pictures where the entire team was gathered around one side of the bench and our daughter was sitting alone on the other end.

We used to think that our daughter was painfully shy. Now we know that she lacks the ability to socialize on her own and we try very hard to help her ease into social situations.

Our daughter's close friends know that they have to drag her into the group, but getting her to actually participate in their conversations can be tough. That's why we have invested big bucks and time in therapy and social skills training to help her recognize facial expressions, understand when someone is joking with her and learn to joke back.

This weekend it all payed off in spades. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words and seeing our daughter joking, laughing and horsing around with her teammates between games at our weekend tournament was priceless.

Over the past few weeks, our daughter and her team have banded together during some really tough games and we have seen a marked improvement in her performance. She's been giving 100 percent lately, due to encouragement from her teammates and many of their parents.

They been asking what we feed her and we reply that she has jalapenos for breakfast and hot sauce for lunch and she just grins from ear-to-ear. That's really something for a child, who rarely smiled, even before she got her braces.

Still, all of this doesn't explain the jump she made to light speed this weekend and I can only chalk it up to one difference: our "new" coach.

One of our parents graciously volunteered to coach our girls during practice for the past two weeks after our regular season ended and this weekend during a holiday tournament that was not originally on our team plan.

With his encouragement and inspiration, the whole team gave 150 percent and our daughter gave her all. They lost their final game, but they never gave up, and they kept fighting to the very end. It was an absolute privilege to see the girls in such fine spirits and know in my heart that they are truly a great team.

Thanks so much Coach "Mike" for putting a smile on my daughter's face that is still there hours after her last game.

Of course she is now happily ensconced in the Wii room playing My new Wii Fit, but she's still wearing her uniform.

Nianya

Mother's Day for the Special Needs Mom. . .

Wikipedia defines mother's day as a "day honoring mothers, celebrated on various days in many places around the world" and today was supposedly the 100 Anniversary of the Mother's Day Celebration.

I wonder how many decades it will take for the world to start celebrating a Special Needs Mother's Day. I could certainly use one and I'll bet that, if your day was anything like mine, you agree.

Yesterday, I spent the day chasing back and forth between my kids' soccer games, Michaels (to bribe my special needs son for behaving during his sister's games) and Sam's club to pick up pizza dinner and pictures for my son's soccer team. Okay, that sounds pretty normal for a soccer mom, but our family is anything but normal and taking the kids anywhere is a trial.

I spent the night hopping in and out of bed due to multiple tornado warnings, got maybe 3 hours of sleep and got dragged out of bed just in time to take my overstimulated/unmedicated Autistic daughter and severely ADHD son to the late church service.

No one brought me breakfast in bed, no one said Happy Mother's Day and my husband had the nerve to tell me off for trying to get my son to swallow one of his quick acting ADHD meds. to calm him down enough to get through Sunday School.

After getting stared at by the traditional Mother's day church crowd for not dressing up enough, we stupidly got in the car and headed for Cracker Barrel. We usually go there on Sundays after early church. We got there at 12:30 pm (bad idea on any Sunday) and I conceded very quickly that waiting over an hour for a table with our over-stimulated children was not a good idea, especially since my son, who is allergic to milk and wheat, can't eat there.

We tried Folks next and I walked right back out the door, when I saw that the waiting crowd was packed in tighter than a sardine can. So we went across the street to the Atlanta Bread Company, because it was amazingly sunny today, given last night's storms, and I wanted to sit outside on the patio. Naturally, my SID son refused to sit outside, because it was too windy. So I stayed outside with my daughter, while my husband and son ate inside. So much for mother's day brunch.

Next we went to Lowes, because we traditionally plant flowers in the yard on mother's day. My husband was annoyed, because he wanted to get back to the house and take a nap before he had to clean up the yard from last night's storms.

So I pick out some lovely budding lilies and hydrangeas and we head home. My husband leaves the plants in the back of the car and heads straight up to bed. Three hours later he gets up and starts the clean-up process.

And, to make a long story short, here I am writing my blog at 10:15 pm and half of my new flowering plants are still sitting in the garage in pots. My husband is enjoying the jacuzzi bath that I poured for myself after vacumming the house, doing the dishes, cooking supper and cleaning up the mess the kids made between 7 and 9:30 am (they slept through the storms). My husband's only comment when he saw me in the bath, was "Are you done yet, I need the hot water."

ARGHHHHH!!!!

Honestly, I can't blame him. We can barely handle our kids' issues and, when you factor in a storm and an otherwise too busy weekend, we we're sunk, no matter what we tried. I'm not really mad at him or the kids, I've just got the WHY ME syndrome.

It didn't help that my own mother called last night to ask, if I was going to pack my car with all of our special needs gear and medications and drive all the way to Timbuktu for my aunt's Memorial Day Race party. Let's just say it's a 10-hour drive, we would have to pay for a hotel, my husband can't afford to take time off from work and gas is almost $4 per gallon.

I can't afford to drive around town, much less all the way to Timbuktu.

Of course she didn't care about any of that or the fact that our daughter is in a soccer tournament that weekend and we couldn't go, even if we wanted to and could afford it.

And to top it all off, no one called or e-mailed to say Happy Mother's Day or to check to see if we were still alive from the tornadoes. To be fair, I must admit that my SIL sent me a text message, but I would have appreciated a quick hullo.

I did get a call this afternoon from a special needs parenting friend. She was concerned about how we fared last night and she keeps in touch with me about the kids. THANKS SO MUCH, YOU MADE MY DAY!

As I always say, "It takes one to know one."

So, back to today's theme. I have no intention of waiting for the rest of the world to realize that special needs parents need a break. I'm taking a day for myself.

This Thursday, I'm playing hookie (personal day), spending the day at the spa and making myself feel great so that I'll be totally relaxed when my husband takes me to dinner at my favorite restaurant. Okay, so it's my 15th anniversary or I wouldn't have a sitter, but as far as I'm concerned it's Special Needs Mother's Day and here's my wish list.

Nianya

A Mother's Guide to Survival in a SID World . . .

Say what?

Sensory integration disorder (SID), also called sensory processing disorder or sensory integration dysfunction. In our case a dysfunctional family.

I prefer to dress in grey, black or tan cotton clothing, since I can buy 3 of each favorite clothing item at Sam's Club for the price of one item at the mall and I always have one on, one off and one in the wash. I know that the black shirt, which I have on today is clean, even if it looks just like the one I wore yesterday, and, I know who my true friends are. My friends are the ones, who think I'm eclectic, while everyone else thinks I'm nuts.

If you are a parent of a SID child, you probably aren't laughing about my attempted humor.

Try explaining eclectic to a 12-year-old child, who dresses in the same clothing every day, because it's the only way she can function. Ask me how many times I have spent $$$ for pants for my autistic daughter, because they were on sale and she swore those were the exact pants she wanted for school next fall. Fast forward and ask how many times my daughter went ballistic when I informed her that it's now time to wear those pants. It's not her fault, she wants to fit in, but she can't function when her clothes don't fit or feel exactly right.

A couple of years ago, my daughter wore the same hooded sweatshirt to school every day, because it was plain gray with SOCCER on the front and soccer was her thing back then. This year it's an old army jacket from the surplus store. Yup, you guessed it, now she's into Army stuff.

Ironically, both mother and daughter are in fashion this year. Eclectic is back in style and lots of pre-teens are into the grunge look.

If you are not the parent of a SID child you probably stopped reading this blog when I mentioned a 12-year-old that refuses to wear what's in her closet. If you're still reading, let me ask you this? Have you ever seen a 12-year-old freak out (i.e. have a complete panic attack) before getting out of the car at school, because you told her to wear her jacket and half the other kids at school don't have one on?

Again you probably think this is normal pre-teen behavior. To a point it is, but, with a SID child, the inevitable panic attack can affect her entire day. She may stop communicating, cry for hours or shut down completely so that she spends the entire school day in her own world.

What's a parent to do when it's cold and rainy and your child refuses to wear a coat?

• Do you let them learn their lesson and freeze in the rain?
• Do you force the issue and make them wear the coat, which inevitably ruins their day and makes you the bad parent? or
• Do you sit in the car and try to reason with them while the other parents in cars behind you honk and yell for you to get out of their way?

The answer: All or None of the above.

The truth is, there is no good answer. Each SID child is unique in his or her own way and each SID episode plays out differently. As the parent of a SID child, you can stick to a rigid routine and live your life quite comfortably (in a plastic bubble), but you can't control the weather and sooner or later, no matter how hard you try, the bubble will burst. Here's what I do when that happens:

• Give your child a choice, whenever possible, but limit the options. Preferably no more than 2. Tell her she has to wear a coat, but let her choose which one and, if the one she wants is in the laundry, pull it back out and wash it later.
• Give your child a reason, if you can't give him a choice. Tell your son he can wear his crocks to the playground, but he has to wear his tennis shoes to school.
• When you find a clothing favorite, buy in multiples while you still can. This may mean paying full price, rather than waiting until the right pants go on sale. It's still cheaper than a closet full of clothes your daughter never wears. It also helps to leave the tags on all clothing and keep your receipts. Most stores will take clothes back and give you a refund or store credit.
• When all else fails and you're pulling your hair out, give yourself a time-out. Lock yourself in your room with your favorite beverage, food and book/TV show (or in my case all of the above, plus my Blackberry and laptop). If you can't get away in your own house, then go out for awhile. Go for a walk, go for a drive, visit a friend or go hang out at Starbucks. And, finally, if you take your cell phone with you, make sure you have caller ID. If your husband calls, don't answer the phone. Let him pull his hair out for an hour or two.

Stay tuned for more survival tips and remember this: If you leave Dad in charge you will most likely return to a dysfunctional house (chances are he didn't pick up the mess, feed the kids or put them to bed). If he did, he's a keeper.

Nianya