Why I Don't Homeschool My Autistic Son

My youngest son is autistic. I knew this since well before he started school. I knew he was different from the time he was a month old and wouldn't eat if someone was touching him. I've known since he'd tap his fingers together, just staring at them as if they were the only thing in the world. I've known since BEFORE the doctors told me. My son is autistic and it's my job to protect him. I'll do anything I have to.

Not long after his official diagnosis, another mom I know, one without a special needs child, said to me, "Of course you're going to homeschool him." That would be best, right? Keep him at home where he's most comfortable and control what he's learning and how he's learning it. Sounded great at the time (he was 4, so it was 18 months before he could start kindergarten). At that point, he'd been in daycare for just over two years, and it had been a hard two years. Even with a worker with him every second of every day, daycare was hard. I couldn't help but imagine school would be so much harder.

After much debate with myself, I decided to homeschool my youngest. Then, thankfully, I got my head on straight before the month was out. What was I thinking? It would be a horrible idea! And here are just a few of the reasons why.

1. I have to work. That was the reason I'd been forced to use daycare in the first place. As a single mother, I don't have the option not to work. I may work from home, but in a typical day (Monday-Friday) I work about 12 hours a day. There's no way I can do that and teach a kid anything useful. I had to schedule in teaching my older son to tie his shoes. I couldn't possibly schedule in teaching my younger son all day every day.

2. I'm not qualified. This is probably my biggest problem with some of the people who homeschool. Let's face it, just going to school doesn't mean you can teach. I may have been the top scoring student in math, sciences, and English in my division, but I don't think I can teach all those things effectively. I'm a professional writer, not a professional teacher. So I thought I'd better leave it to the pros.

3. The world doesn't revolve around him. MY world may revolve around my children, but THE world certainly doesn't. My son is relatively high functioning. He still gets a worker at school, but one day, with help and proper preparation, he'll be able to live a mostly independent life. And when he's out there, living independently, he'll quickly discover that the world doesn't adapt itself to him. Not comfortable leaving the house? Unless you can get a job right away that involves staying in your house, you're kind of out of luck, kid. Can't cope with the people? People are everywhere. Get used to it. I could go on, but what's the point? The world is the world, and as kind as some people are, the world itself doesn't care that my youngest is autistic. If I keep him home now, it'll take all the longer to help him cope with the world outside our small family. And he does need to cope.

4. I like being "Mommy". I love the relationship my son and I have. I'd be fooling myself if I thought that relationship would stay the same if I was both "Mommy" and "Teacher". Let someone else deal with teaching him to read and how to walk in line (this has been one of our greatest struggles, actually). I want to be the one who teaches him how to smile and how to play.

5. Schedules are great. Not for me. I'm a nutty writer who can't remember what day it is without my calendar and three reminders from my phone. But my son lives and dies by a schedule. Having to get on the bus at a certain time EVERY DAY and not having the option to change that, EVER, is really good for him. He lives by the clock. I, however, can't. I don't think we'd mesh very well in the homeschooling department. In fact, if he was harping "Mommy, time for snack," at 10:30 EVERY morning, I'm pretty sure I'd totally lose my mind. I never do the same thing at 10:30, and with very good reason.

6. I am so tired of transitions. This is selfish, and I know it. But, as most people with autistic children will tell you, transitions just plain suck. You can prepare an autistic child for it as much as possible, but that transition that's looming before you is still coming, and it will still throw him for a loop. If I can make transitions someone else's problem, you can bet I will. Because Mommy needs to breathe for a minute.

7. He loves his brother. My older son is exactly 2 years older than my younger son and they're quite close. Whatever big guy does, little guy wants to do. And big guy loves school. The friends, the teachers, the bus, the smell of the classrooms (don't ask), he loves it all. No way would I pull him away from that, and no way I would force one kid to stay home and watch his brother skip onto the bus with a smile. That's just not fair.

8.I have no attention span. Seriously. I'm worse than he is (almost). I'm the writer who works on 9 different projects on any given day. Maybe 12. Teaching my son academics would require me to actually take medication to pay attention, and that medication actually curtails my creativity (I know, I've tried it). If my creativity is curtailed, I can't do my job. No job, no food on the table. And now we're starving.

9. I want him to be exposed to ideas that aren't mine. I've thought a lot about this one, and talked to many homeschooling parents who claim to homeschool because they want to control what their kids are exposed to. I don't need that much control. I want my kids exposed to as many different ideas as possible. I LIKE having no control (or very little) over the diversity of education my children receive. I'm not always right, after all.

10. They have more resources than I do. Unless I somehow win the lottery, I can't afford the resources the school brings to the table. I simply can't. Those resources are invaluable, especially for my autistic son. These resources include a full-time professional who is there specifically for my son at all hours of the school day. She is amazing. I can't afford her salary, and I can't keep her prisoner in my basement, so off to school my little guy goes.

This last reason was more than enough to convince me that my youngest was better off in public school. Don't get me wrong, I have only respect for those parents who pull off homeschooling effectively (let's admit that not everyone does), but for my autistic son, it's not the best option. Does he love school? Well, no. But he's slowly adapting. Grade 1 is wrapping up and we'll keep plugging along whether he likes it or not. Because we can't always love what's good for us, and what's good for him is going to school every day.

Tips for Thowing Your School-Aged Child a Birthday Party

No matter how hard you try to avoid it, eventually your child will want to invite other kids over for a big party on their birthday. It's inevitable. Oh, sure, you can throw small family parties for a few years, but once your kid starts school, he will notice that other children are having parties. He'll even get invited to a few. Or a thousand, depending on how popular your child happens to be.

So what do you do? You give him that party, of course. You might resist for a little while, but eventually the dark black hole that is planning and hosting a children's birthday party will eventually suck you in. Before you get too far into the planning stage, however, keep these tips in mind. You might even find some of them useful. :)

1. Remember Who the Party is For--The party is not about YOU. It is about your child. This is not the time to relive your own childhood and throw the party you wish you had. If you loved My Little Pony but your child is more of a Star Wars fan, get the Star Wars napkins. It's not about you.
2. Don't Invite the Entire Class--Seriously, I've done this. It's always a mess. Not only do you end up with 30 kids all by yourself (because this is the one time no parents will stay during the party), but your kid will have less fun. A few good friends always results in more fun because those are the friends who mean the most. And you kid doesn't have to run around talking to 30 people, at least 10 of whom he doesn't really like. Keep it under 10 for maximum fun.
3. Don't Try to Be Super Healthy--I recently attended a party for a seven-year-old where the cake was gluten-free, sugar-free, and something-else-free. Even the birthday boy wouldn't eat it. And for lunch? Kale salad. Maybe two kids ate anything at all, and the birthday boy was not among them. Clearly he didn't enjoy these foods, so they weren't for his benefit. If your kid likes cheese pizza and chocolate cake, that's what you should serve. Sure, serve a fruit tray and a veggie tray, but don't overdo it. It's one day. And remember, the day is about birthday kid, not you.
4. Don't Stress Out Over Allergies--Look, I have a child with a life-threatening allergy, so I know how serious they are. But unless your child has allergies, don't worry about it. Please. I am horrified when a parent tells me they can't figure out what to feed my child. I'm careful. So is my son. He's not going to eat the cake if it's going to kill him. In fact, I probably fed him before we came. As long as you're not offended when he barely eats anything, we're fine. You don't need to accommodate every allergy under the sun. It's your child's birthday. Let him be the focus.
5. Let Kids Bring Presents--I went to another party for a little girl just over a week ago (my entire school year seems to be one party after another). At this party, the parents requested no presents. Great, right? Well, it didn't turn out that way. The birthday girl was sad. The guests didn't understand why they couldn't bring presents for their friend (they're still quite young, by the way). The entire party seemed lacking. Were the parents happy? Sure. The birthday girl's dad didn't have to haul all the presents home and the parents of the guests saved $20. But remember the part about it not being all about you? Kids want presents. I usually ask guests not to spend more than $10 on a gift, but banning them outright may result in tears.
6. Stick to Your Budget--As a mom, I've blown a lot of money on birthday parties. I've also planned parties that stuck to a strict budget. And you know what? The kids enjoyed all the parties. The knight party that cost me $1000? They loved it. But the Star Wars party that only cost $150? They loved that too. I've learned the hard way that spending more money doesn't mean it's more fun. Kids do not care.
7. End the Party On Time--I've been to two separate parties this year that did not end on time. At the first, I arrived at the appointed pickup time and they weren't even close to done. So I went and did my shopping. An hour later they still weren't done. An hour after that, I had to haul my son out of there (because we had another party to get to) and they still hadn't done the cake thing. At the second party, I stayed to help the mom out. The party was three hours. Supposedly. At the three-hour mark, they'd only just started the magic show. Never mind cake or presents. For the love of all that is holy, end your party on time! It will help avoid tears.
8. Ask For Help--If you're only having three guests, this probably isn't a problem. But if you're having more than five extra children at the party, you'll want an extra pair of hands. And eyes. Surely one of your mom friends doesn't mind staying to help you out. Ask.
9. Write a Schedule--Not in stone, but a quick little list in your pocket can help keep the party going, and help it end on time. It'll also remind you not to skip anything. Because we all know how cranky the birthday boy will get if he suddenly remembers he wanted to play that bean bag toss game he found at the dollar store a month ago. Write it down.
10. Have Fun--The party may be all about the birthday kid, but that's no reason not to have fun. There's nothing wrong with Mom playing a few of the games, eating a slice of cake, or laughing with kids and adults alike. If you're having fun, your kid will have fun (usually). Give it a shot.

It doesn't really matter if you have the party in your house or rent a hall. You can go to the zoo, the bowling alley, or the local mini-golf course. Or you can have it in your own backyard. Just make a plan, relax, and have fun.

Redecorating: The Great Clean Up

So the kids want to redecorate? No problem. Huge plans? No problem. As soon as the room is clean.

Which is exactly where the first problem in the Great Bedroom Saga was waiting for me. We have one basic rule in our house: your room is your room. I don't care if it's messy. I don't care if you don't put your clothes away. I don't care if you haven't made your bed. As long as the room doesn't smell like a dried up fish stick and your don't leave your junk lying around the rest of the house, I can live with a messy room.

Until it's time to redecorate. I am not even going to try to redecorate a room with Lego strewn across the floor. Have you ever stepped on a Lego? I have and it hurts. So if there's Lego (or one of the many other little toys they seem to keep on the floor) lying around, I'm not painting. Ever.

Bear in mind that this whole redecorating thing wasn't exactly my idea. The kids came up with the plan. So I figured it was only fair that they get their own junk off the floor before I bought the first can of paint. Good idea.

Or so I thought. Who knew it would be such a battle? And, just to set the record straight, the room isn't exactly a total disaster. Some things are on the floor, yes, but most of it is in toy boxes or up on shelves. Cleaning up the entire room would take no more than about fifteen or twenty minutes. Tops.

So what do the kids do? Nothing, as it turns out. I send them to clean their room, promising a trip to the hardware store just as soon as it's done. Ten minutes later, the kids return and ask to go to the hardware store. That seemed just a little quick to me, so I decided to check. They hadn't even picked up the dreaded Lego. No hardware store.

My youngest, who has Asperger's, had an immediate breakdown. He wanted the hardware store, he expected the hardware store, and he was going to have a meltdown (which looks like a tantrum but actually isn't) until we went to the hardware store. My oldest son, who had apparently planned this out, was just about smirking. He had to go to his not-cleaned room while I dealt with the little one.

Eventually, by repeating myself at least a dozen times, I managed to get the little one to understand the sequence of events according to Mommy. Clean up, then hardware store. Clean up, then hardware store. Little one was on board. Now for the big one.

The big one, at a whole eight years old, was not interested in cleaning.

"Why can't you clean it up?" was his big question.

"Fine," I replied. "But Mommy cleans with a garbage bag. I'm going to get my garbage bag. Anything left on the floor is definitely garbage. I'll be back in two minutes."

Usually my threats are pretty empty, but I think he realized that I just might be serious. By the time I got back, garbage bag in hand, Tristan (my older son) was slowly cleaning up. Slowly, but it was a start. The younger one was sitting next to the bunk beds looking confused. A few minutes of careful coaching and Rowan too was cleaning up. Sort of. But it was good enough.

I helped, of course, and thirty minutes later we were ready for a trip to the hardware store. Doesn't that sound like fun?

Redecorating: The Great Bedroom Saga Begins

Have you ever made a promise to your kids that got you in way over your head? Well, that happened to me this week, and it all started because two little boys wanted just one little thing from me.

First, a little background. My two children, now 8 and 6, share a room. They've shared that room for six years. Before that, it was my nephew's room, but then we all played musical houses (that's a different and entirely ridiculous story) and now my kids have the room my nephew once had. The room has a blue ceiling, blue and grey walls, and clouds cut out of ceiling tiles hanging from the ceiling. It also has a Disney's Cars light switch. All of this was from when it was my nephew's room. The only things I added were a few Diego wall decals and a Thomas the Tank Engine toy box. Six years ago. The room hasn't changed since them.

So maybe the situation I've found myself in was bound to creep up on me. And it may be partially my own fault for not updating their room as they grew. They're not toddlers anymore, after all. But I digress.

A few days ago my oldest son Tristan sat beside me and said, "Mommy, you need to paint my room."

That seemed an innocent enough request, so I asked him what color he wanted it painted. Tristan pulled out a paint chip (where did he get a paint chip?!) and showed me a silver paint that would look lovely but would never go over the deeply insane blue on the walls and ceiling now. I asked if he couldn't pick a slightly darker color. He refused. Fine. Silver walls it was. I'd need tinted primer go cover all that blue, but it was fine. Paint is no big deal.

Tristan went on to explain that if he was going to be a knight, he needed grey walls because castle stones are grey. I remember thinking "How cute" as he talked about being a knight. He has all the costumes and two years ago my father and I built him a castle in the yard to play in.

Rowan, my younger son, snuck in and said, "Did you ask her yet?"

Tristan shook his head, so now I was suspicious. He'd already asked me about paint, and I'd agreed, so what hadn't he asked me. I gave Tristan a look. He smiled. I gave Rowan a look. He ran back upstairs.  So I turned back to Tristan.

"What's going on?"

With a heartfelt sigh that shook his little body he explained. He wanted a knight's bedroom. With grey walls and one stone wall and a cool bed and everything. He didn't like Cars and he didn't like Diego. At all. He and Rowan were old enough now to get a bedroom they loved. Thinking paint and wallpaper would do it, I agreed. Then he asked if he could use my computer. In a flash of blind stupidity (and not seeing the connection), I agreed.

So I made dinner and Tristan, at a whole 8 years old, clicked away. To my growing misfortune, I'm coming to realize that the school is teaching my kids to spell and surf the web. This is a dangerous combination. If Tristan couldn't spell, he couldn't use Google and my life would be easier. Well, he can spell and they taught him all about Google. And they taught him how to save pictures from the Internet. This was about to ruin my day.

So I'm making hide-the-beans burgers and cinnamon sweet potato fries and Tristan starts printing something. Who taught the kid to print!? Not me, that's for sure. Into the kitchen he comes with a STACK of paper. My heart clenched as I realized this kid had a PLAN.

What was the plan? A stone wall. Not wallpaper, but real stone. I managed to convince him to use wallpaper because he'd lose a foot of his room with real stone, but it was a near thing. He also wanted to get rid of the bunk bed and have two separate beds. He'd found three pictures on the internet that he wanted to combine. Scary. Oh, and fake windows behind each bed. And castles rising above each bed (he didn't have a picture for this, but he is a little artist). Oh, and THREE nightstands. And treasure chests at the end of the beds. And the beds...navy with a silver stripe. With a crest. And reversible, so silver with a navy stripe on the other side. Still with a crest. Matching curtains around the beds, and these curtains have to hang from the castles rising above the beds.

His plan involves a little more than just paint and wallpaper. It involves new lights (including a dragon light), new switches, new beds, bedding, shelves that look like castles, castles that rise up above beds, curtains, chains, murals, fake windows, and I can't even remember what else. And what did I say when he thrust all these papers and plans at me?

I said, "Yes." What did I just get myself into? Stay tuned for the answer.