The Mom Squad

Thursday afternoon I met my first Mom. The power of one. Then like cell division she became two and then four. Next thing you know I'm speed dating a posse of dedicated maternal researchers trying to right the wrongs of Autism.

Mom one is all over homeopathic medicine and unloads her arsenal of herbal potions onto the coffee table in the parent room. She's also menopausal and shares her personal herbal ritual. As I'm merely dipping my toe into the recessing pool of middle age I'm listening, mildly skeptical but with a child-like hope for a happy ending. Who doesn't want Snow White to wake-up beautiful, agelesss, and with minty fresh breath? You know the Prince does.

Mom 2 is the master of the Individual Education Plan (IEP). If you have a child that has any kind of learning difference or delay, you and the educational power's that be battle it out for your child's free and appropriate education to comply with the federal mandate (Public Law 102-119, known as the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, Part B (34 CFR Parts 300 and 301 and Appendix C). Being that appropriate is subjective and school budgets are constantly being cut, many Mom's have hired attorneys to get what their child needs and deserves. We haven't had to go there. I'm trying the 'get more bees with honey' route and have joined our school's PTA. We also live in a town of 80,000, not 8 million.

Mom 3 and 4 are new to the Autism world and thankful to be in the program. Their kids are much younger so they just got their back stage pass. Rock on.

High 5 Mom is local and amazing. She hooks me up with neighborhoods. Where I should stay, what I should pay, what to do on the weekends and more importantly, what NOT to do on the weekends. The program's social worker had printed me out a list of where to go and what to do then this Mom took out her red scripto marker and like a teacher from the 50's, corrected it - straight up! Paula Abdul would've been proud. She drew me a map from memory unlike anything you'd see on the Internet.

I've also noticed that my clan of Mom's tends to think like I do. They're no-nonsense. When it comes to describing there kid, talk about services, give their experience, honestly. The fluff is gone. It's just the facts, ma'am, which is why I love getting directions from a fellow Mom. There's no, 'Okay, so you know where Starbuck's is? Don't take a left there, you wanna go up a little further and when you see the Chinese place with the red arches, go right'.....instead it's very military. North on first street, West on Wilshire, East on Idaho...are you listening soldier?! Love it.

She also hooked me up with the allusive parking pass. Apparently, if you're child is in this program you can get a disabled placard and park in the disabled spots. Now, I have no issue speaking of Oskar and his disability but I always thought of those parking spots for someone with a physical disability who needs easier access to the sidewalks, elevators, etc. I never considered how challenging it is get Oskar onto the sidewalk or anywhere that's safe. As soon as his seat belt is off, all holds are barred and it's game time. In Bend, that's not such a big deal as there's fewer cars and the cars on the road or parking lots are the drivers are driving at a much slower pace. Here, you better have your spidey senses in place and I'd love to have that web thingy to shoot from my palm. Not only for Oskar, I think I'd just dig it. Could you imagine getting the remote? How lazy is that?!

So, now I have a disabled parking permit and I am pimping it all over greater LA. Not only do we get parking, we get premium parking! For all the things CA has done to get them in a financial hole, at least they take care of their peeps of difference. Disabled parking is a fraction of typical rates, all early intervention care, OT, PT, speech therapy, etc...FREE...until the 5 yr mark. Many of these Mom's have received 30-hrs plus per week of state paid intervention for their kiddos. Amazing. I guess the Terminator is from the future.

Friday was my day of housing relief. I finally found an apartment that's CLEAN for the same price as we are paying now for our motel room. It's pretty sterile looking but I'll take that over seeing the blackened soles of my motel feet. It's a tiny, very basic apartment, one bedroom with two twin beds. It has a decent kitchen and separate living room for $2k per month. For that amount in Bend, I'd be in a gated community. It's about half way from where we are now to UCLA but seems like a whole world away as we're off the freeway and across the street from a park. It's unbelievable what a difference a block makes. Just to give some perspective of size, when I was leasing commercial space, we tried to get (aka begged) Trader Joe's to come to Redmond (OR). They instead came to Bend - smart move - but explained even with our metro area of all Deschutes county, the population at 120k was the smallest they've entered. Here, I've seen 4 Trader Joe's within blocks of each other. Wow, that's a lot of people.

Back at the program, I met with George the intern for over an hour. He informed me Oskar will take an IQ test to assess his strengths and weaknesses and have a blood draw on Tuesday (yea!) so they can perform genetic tests. He would like to rule out Fragile X Syndrome and see if there are any other genetic abnormalities. He also explained all kids in this program are tested for Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS) as kids with FAS also look like kids on the spectrum. I remember taking biology in high school and eliminating variables when conducting an experiment but being that both Fragile X and FAS typically also encompass a intellectual delay which Oskar doesn't have, doesn't that eliminate it already? Sometimes I feel like science is a huge waste of money. No wonder insurance is such a mess. Maybe they can take a sample of Oskar's hair to make sure he's a real blonde. I hope they don't need a sample from me too....

George also wanted to clarify my answers to one of the questionnaire/assessments I completed regarding Oskar's abilities. First off, I need to throw out there, as I've confided with other Mom's, that I believe how a child's disability came to be is typically not a mystery, i.e. the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. Usually the likeness of child to parent is obvious to everyone......except the parent(s). I always think of that scene from Parenthood, when Steve Martin is ferociously scrubbing his hands under a spigot after searching for his son's retainer in the garbage questioning where his son gets his neurotic behaviors? Duh.

So, I get Oskar's stubbornness, his fierce anger, as I have it too it just takes me a lot longer to get there and doesn't happen as often. I also appreciate his distraction. If I don't have a list, I am lost. I can find a million things interesting, which is why it's taken me so long to finish this analogy. I can't take multiple choice tests to save my life! Especially tests like this where the choice of answer is 'always, sometimes, mostly, never...what's the difference between sometimes and mostly? Then to mess with you, which I'm sure the practitioner that wrote this is, there will be a question like (and this was truly a question I had to answer), 'my child is perfect in every way'. Seriously?

Beyond that, it doesn't help that I took 5 tests on the first day I arrived. My mind was like a washing machine agitating data from Oskar's first 7 yrs. (Oskar will like that simile!) Even with my 3, 5-inch binders containing records of Oskar's relentless tests, benchmarks, and therapies, I couldn't keep any of it straight.

My favorite test, though, wasn't about Oskar. It was about me. How am I? How am I feeling? Do I like to do things? Did I enjoy my last purchase? Have I given up on my hopes and dreams? Is having a child all I had imagined? Do I enjoy my friends? Do I have friends? Do I cry? Have I cried yet from taking this test? Always, sometimes, mostly, never....