I Wish I Could Change the World

I don't have a clue what to call this post.  I stare at the computer screen and just wish that the use of Seclusion Closets would be banned and people would be forced to make better choices regarding our children.

Here is what prompted this post.  I was talking with someone and she said, "My friend's son needs to be in those rooms.  He prefers to be in them."  Whoa, did you just say your friend's son needs to be in those closets?  My internal alarm goes off and my brain says, "Take a step back and breath."

I am surely not going to be the most popular kid on the block for voicing my opinions.  They are just my opinions after all and nobody has to agree with me.  My thoughts also come from my personal experiences with my child so here it goes.

1.  I believe that there is a difference between a restraint and a hold.  A hold is when people hold the part of the body that needs to be contained.  I am basing this opinion on personal experience.

My first experience was when Sam was 6 years old and they had him face down in a prone restraint.  They should be illegal and they are in only a few states.  Three grown men had his hands behind his back with there knees on him so he couldn't move.  Six years old. That is a restraint.

Grabbing a child and dragging them kicking and screaming down a hallway into a seclusion closet is a restraint.

Three weeks ago Sam was in crisis and he put his foot through the wall.  They held his legs, Sam was face up, so he couldn't put his foot through the wall again.  That is a hold.  I sat and watched the entire thing happen.  Nobody had the intent to hurt him, the only intent was to keep him safe.

There is a difference.

So what fueled my anger?  Was it that I am sure that this person doesn't really understand the inner turmoil that the Mom (or Dad) goes through when these events happen?  Or is it my own personal experiences that flash forward in an instant when comments are made regarding seclusion closets?  

I am almost positive that nobody likes to sit on a hard cold floor leaning up against a cold hard wall with a prison like window.  It is me that sits with the knowledge that I had an educator tell me that Sam chose to sit in that room.

This was my conversation with the educator.

"You mean to say that you had my son in that closet for 30 minutes?"

"Sam was only upset for 20 minutes and was calm for 10."

"You mean that you had my son sit in that closet for 10 minutes calm?"

"Yes, he did it by choice."

That afternoon..."Hey Sam, did you sit in that room by choice?"

"No."

"Did anyone give you the option to leave the seclusion room?"

"No."

I bet that the educator is telling that parent that their child likes it.  I am figuring that the child does not have the oral capacity to talk.

I might be totally wrong.  Again, I can't imagine that any child likes to sit on a cold floor leaning against a cold wall.

And of course there is the time when the principal of the school showed me their seclusion closet and said, "Isn't this nice?" GGRRRR.  I told him, "No, it is criminal."

I have to laugh because I am still on #1.

#2.  Say no to Seclusion Closets.

That is all I have left to say.

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.  You can find more of Sam's work at https://www.facebook.com/SnapshotsBySamMaloney

Do We Have the Right?

This is my rebuttal of a blog post that I saw earlier today.  I don't know exactly how to paraphrase but I think the point the blogger was trying to make is that Autism Parents can be just as cruel as Neurotypical Parents.  The only reason why I am reposting is because I feel the need.  It is the same for all of  us bloggers, I believe.

Let me digress.  The post basically said that Autism Parents lash out when Neurotypical Parents talk about their kids successes and Autism Parents find that offensive because they can't relate to the real struggle that is Autism.  I have no clue if I got all of that right.  I will admit I am basically clueless when it comes to what point she was trying to make.

The post started out with this. "This post isn't probably going to be spectacularly popular in the autism parenting community.  I want to give a little love to the parents of neurotypical kids, pejoratively "normies."

I had to look up the word pejoratively which means "having a disparging, derogatory, or belittling effect or force."  I then had to look up the word disparaging which means "tending to belittle or bring reproach upon. The one thing I can thank this blogger for is a good vocabulary lesson.

I am going to start my rebuttal with my point.  Wow, this particular person has clearly gotten her feathers ruffled over something.  A "friend" perhaps?

I am a parent of a neurotypical and a child on the spectrum.  It is two different worlds.  My one world was filled with a daughter who excelled.  Life was tough for her because she had me as a Mom and she had a sibling on the spectrum.  She persevered and she has conquered.  I could not be more proud of her.  I cry every time I think about it.  This is a child that came from me and I filled her life with my problems and she still found her way.  Kudos to my daughter.  I love you honey.

I believe that "us" Neurotypical/Autism parents live in a Bipolar world.  Did I like living in the neurotypical world?  Absolutely not.  I didn't like who I had to hang with one bit. Sorry, but it is true.  The friends that I have live in the world of Autism. (or anyone who has struggled with something) It isn't anyone's fault and by no means do I think the neurotypical world, with little Autism understanding, is bad.  It isn't.  Basic human social needs revolve around needing to be around people who "get" it.  Simple. You also can't know what you don't know.  I can't expect anything different.

I love my daughter so much that at times it hurts.  There is no love like a mother's love.  I am not going to love my child any less because she is neurotypical.  No way.  All mothers, with the exception of a few, fiercely love their kids.  When they hurt we hurt.  It doesn't matter where they lie on the spectrum called childhood.

My son?  The last eight years have been tough.  I have been living in a world filled with anger and resentment.  It has mostly been this way because I wasn't heard and my child's needs were not met.

It is our job as parents of kids on the spectrum to teach others.  We all need to do it with kindness.  We all know that the lines of communication end when it is filled with anger.  On that note, I do realize that I am not particularly being kind to this particular blogger.  Yeah, it ruffled my feathers.

I think that people who lash out are angry.   I have to feel bad for the person who gets in the way of our anger.  It is nothing against them.  They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

What will I get mad at?  There is nothing worse than telling someone who works in a grocery store that your child has Autism and I have to pick my battles, when my child is doing something to upset the other person.  I get mad when said person says, "I don't care."  Yeah, she got it from me.

I will end with this.  I realize that it is person first language and the parent and the child comes first.  It should be, in our political correct world, the parent of a child with Autism and a child who is neurotypical.  Maybe I will write about that in my next post.  I just wanted to keep with the theme of the previous writer. 

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.  You can find more of Sam's work at https://www.facebook.com/SnapshotsBySamMaloney

What To Do During a Meltdown.

I am not feeling very positive today and I wanted to name this post What Not To Do During A Meltdown but I will be kind and do my best to give helpful information as it pertains to my specific child.

1.  If you see a child hurting, a parent (or guardian) is hurting right beside them.  As a parent I don't know how to distance myself from the pain I see on my child's face.  I don't know if I ever will.  I always see pain when Sam is melting down.

2.  If you are not raising a child on the spectrum you do not know how I feel.  If you feel compelled to say something it is helpful to say, "I am sorry, I do not know what you are going through."  I can't explain how helpful this is.  There is nothing worse than talking about my child and a 20 year old says, "Yeah, I can relate." If you work with our children and you don't have a child on the spectrum please say, "I wish I could relate, but I can't."  You can even say, "I am sorry, I wish I had more understanding of what you are going through."

My favorite posts from one of Sam's fans said this.  I am paraphrasing, "I would yell and say walk a mile in my shoes and then throw my shoes at them."  Ha!  I find that hysterical.  I am sure the person throwing the shoes didn't think it was funny.  After the fact, I think it is a creative response.

3.  If anyone feels compelled to say something derogatory to a parent during a meltdown I can almost 100% guarantee that the parent will not be kind to that person.  We have been through so much and the child?  I can't imagine.  I am not diagnosed with Autism.  I do have an understanding of growing up with a Mental Illness. Growing up with an undiagnosed Mental Illness was painful for me.  I get a little bit of it.

I keep on writing what not to do because we live in a negative society.  I will try to do better.

4.  If a person is in a managerial position and that person has to over see the meltdown, please either sit on the floor or sit in a chair.  If you can't find a chair, find someone to find you a chair.  Standing over the person having the meltdown doesn't help even if you are a few feet a way.  It would be my perfect world if a person sat down and placed their hands in their lap in a non threatening manner.  A child with Autism might not understand it but the parent does.  Standing with your hands behind your back or across your chest doesn't help at all.

5.  If anyone feels compelled to help, be prepared to sit down next to the person and be prepared to not say a word.  Just sitting next to a person or sitting off center helps.  Do not speak.  Please say nothing.  If a person wants to help and they just don't have 20 minutes to spare to sit and say nothing, walk away.
It is very helpful when people are not helpful.

6.  If Sam is having a meltdown in a crowded room and he perceives that a group of people are giving him a hard time, I pull up a chair to block his vision.  I remove the stimulus.

7.  I do my best to never talk during a meltdown.  I sit and I wait.  Talking during a meltdown doesn't help.  Trying to reason doesn't help. Yelling doesn't help.

8.  Never say, "My sister's son has Autism so I understand."  No you don't.  Never say, "My neighbor has Autism so I understand."  No you don't.  The only time I don't take offense is when someone says, "My neighbor's son has Autism and I see how difficult times can be for her/him."  You can always say that you can see the pain and you feel bad for that pain.  Never, ever say that you understand if you are not raising a child with Autism.  A person just might get a pair of shoes thrown at them.  It is a trigger for us parents.  Trust me.

9.  If you are driving in a car and a child is having a meltdown, pull over and sit and wait.  I do this all the time.  I have had cops pull over and ask if I needed help.  I always say, "nope, I just don't want to get in an accident"  If you have the parent in the car with you, sit and be quiet.

10.  The meltdown isn't bad parenting.  I would love to have more understanding.

11.  Never say walking past a meltdown, "Been there, done that!"  That is not helpful.

I can't think of anything else right now.  Please feel free to add your own list.  There might be something that I am forgetting.

Debra Pierce Bellare, Sam's Mom.

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.  You can find more of Sam's work at https://www.facebook.com/SnapshotsBySamMaloney

Being BiPolar

How do you spell BiPolar?  Or is it just Bipolar?  It doesn't really matter how you spell it or what part you capitalize.  Well, maybe to those that have to be grammatically correct and I am not one of those people.

I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, but I do want people to understand how difficult it is.  Pick yourself up by the bootstraps?  Doesn't work.  The numbness sets in, the inability to take a shower kicks in and the unbelievable sadness sets in.  I take a shower, I put one foot in front of the other and I take care of Sam.  I do it while I hurt.

I love my two children with everything I have.  One has left the nest and we all know it is better for all of us because of Autism.  It is killing me.  It feels like a knife in my heart.  I get it but it doesn't stop the tears.  Autism isn't easy for any of us but we live with it and I, at the helm of the house, have to do what I can with it.  

What is it now?  1 out of 50 families live with Autism?  That is one out of 50 families who are set up to have family walk away, loss of friends, loss of jobs, or some of us with BiPolar, the loss of our kids.  I have almost lost my kids three times in my life and I am worried sick that someone, basically Sam's Dad, will try again.  I am even running the risk by talking about it and well, I will cross that bridge when I get the court papers.  I have had CPS at my house around 10 times in the last year.  I have to tell my son that when he confides in someone that maybe the bathtub isn't as clean as he would like it that he has to keep his mouth shut.  (My bathtub is so stained and I can't get the stains out)

Sam has been out of school for about 34 school weeks.  I need to understand why people can't see his talents and what he is capable of.  I don't understand why my Autism Community hasn't rallied behind my son.  Sam has almost 4,000 people on his facebook page: Snapshots by Sam Maloney and the people in the box are more supportive than the ones who I actually want to support Sam.  

It is lonely sitting in my house alone while I hear the cold whip of the wind.  I know I need to get to the gym and I know I need to eat better because of having past cancer.  I will try better tomorrow.  

I know who are the people who care about me outside of my computer.  It is very difficult to be around someone who is sad.  I wouldn't want to be around me at the moment.  I have plans for Sam and myself around getting out and being social and for that I am grateful.  The not so healthy part is that I do everything for Sam.  There is nothing that I do for me.  What I want to do cost money and I don't have it.  Knitting circles cost money and going to the movie cost money.  Even to read a book from the library because I have to pay that fine because of lost books because of poor organizational skills.

The problem at the moment is that I don't feel safe.  I don't feel safe from Sam's Dad, our workers and everyone we come in contact with professionally.  I have to keep my mouth shut and for us that live with a mental health challenge, it is not healthy for us.  We all live in fear that our children will be taken away from us if we speak up that we don't feel so hot.   It doesn't matter what anyone else says because we know because we have lived it.

What would I say to someone who thought, well you better take her kids?  I would say that they are only making matters worse.  I love my son with everything that I have.  I work endless hours making sure he has what he needs.  I make phone calls after phone calls if I don't have something and I work tirelessly to make sure he gets it.  Nobody, and I mean nobody can take care of him the way I do, even when I am sad and I hurt.  

Please don't call CPS if you think that I should be investigated.  I say this to any of my professionals who read this or fall upon it.  The only thing our worker did was hurt me.  People can tell me until they are blue in the face that it is their job as a mandated reporter.  People who are in my home know how well I take care of my children and if there is a problem I take care of it.  The worker was cruel and I never want to see her again and when I do see her I will say hello and walk away.  Apparently she didn't really want to work with us.

Now I wait for the upswing.  It is BiPolar, or is it Bipolar, after all.

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.  You can find more of Sam's work at https://www.facebook.com/SnapshotsBySamMaloney

I LOVE YOU, I Hate You

You would think that after twenty years of psychotherapy that I would get how my behavior inpacts what happens to me.  I have't "gotten it" yet.  I am still trying.

There is such a thing as "I love you, I hate you syndrome".  It is real and I know it is.  After a series of events, where I "perceive" whatever is happening at the time, I get angry and I feel the pressure building in side of me.  It isn't after one event or two or even three.  It is around the fourth or fifth event where I can't control my inner turmoil and I explode.

This is what I found from a website called "Ask a Biploar".

Sounds familiar.  I watch my son with these same issues of perceiving the world differently.

So how do I correct this?  I don't know the answer.  I attend my therapy appointments and it isn't enough.  I can enroll in Diabelicctal Behavior Therapy and do my best to have things fall off like water beads from a oiled iron skillet. That is a real skill that is taught in DBT.

I have a difficult time writing this because it feels like I am having a downright bitch fest.  "You did this to me!"  Well, no, I reacted to your way of living because I didn't like how I felt at that moment.  There is a huge difference from reacting to your environment instead of saying, "you made me angry."  Becoming angry was my choice.

"I love you, I hate you" is real for me.  It doesn't have to be a boy friend, girlfirend relationship.  It can be with potential friends.  I am so screwed up that I don't know how to be friends with someone.  The fact that I can write that I don't know how to be friends with someone hurts me.  Twenty years of psychotherapy and I feel I haven't learned a thing.  I do know that I am a better person than I was.  BiPolar and it's ugliness made a mess out of my life and I am still picking up the pieces.

I worry about what I write but I still write.  It is important to me to share what this life is like with BiPolar.  Not enough material is written about this devestating illness.  There is not enough mental health services for us and there is not enough understanding.  I could go back and apologize to those that I have violently pushed out of my life with my words but I won't do that.  I should of walked away at the first sign of turmoil. I had the signs and I still pushed forward.

I can't fix things after I explode and I have to live with my reactions and that should be enough to teach me a lesson.  I was talking to a friend, a real one that puts up with me, and she said that when she listens to me she sees a hamster going round and round.  Yeah, I can see that.  I make the same mistakes over and over.  Things calm down in my life and when they reve up I again make the same mistakes over and over.  Hell has no furry for those that come across my path when life feels unbearable.

One of the stories that I would like to share is my love afair with Johnathon.  I met Johnathon when I was 20 years old.  I will never forget it.  I was with a "potential" friend in a bar when I first saw him.  He walked through a cloud of smoke and he was just there standing and it was love at first site.  It wasn't a healthy relationship and I still kept going.  What hurts is that I was so messed up that I used my "potential" friend to get to him.  I didn't get to keep anyone in that group of folks.  It is difficult to write how I wasn't able to cope with a group dynamic.  During our last phone call I couldn't speak.  No words would come out of my mouth.  For years we would go on and off again becasue I couldn't communicate my needs.  He hung up and changed his phone number.  It was that day that I called a therapist and it was a start to finding out that I was BiPolar.  I have him to thank.

"The phrase “I hate you, don’t leave me” was made popular by a book on the subject of something called Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), although those with Bipolar Disorder (BP) can also show this pattern. Essentially it is what it says… and we’ll add to more of that here. The world of someone with BPD or BP if full of conflict and trying to handle a world not necessarily perceived the same as someone without these issues.

Out of State Care

Driving 348 miles, I arrived at my destination just under 6 hours. Pulling to the curb I asked a valet attendant where the nearest parking garage was located and he most likely saw my discomfort and fear and parked the car for me.  Thinking, "well this might not be so bad." I walked into the building where I was to meet possible future caregivers of my child.

Thinking back on this experience I realize that I have a responsibility to not slam these caregivers but to also share our story.  It is a combination that can anger some and evoke responses from many.  Everybody has their story.  Our story begins the day we are born and it ends the day that we die.  Of course it all depends on what story I want to tell whether it is domestic violence, mental health difficulties or Autism and the list goes on and on. 

Today my story is the continual saga of Sam's experience with school. 

Walking onto the unit I noticed that the patients were non verbal. To many this environment would imply that the population would be low functioning, kids of all ages, who are diagnosed with Autism. I am not a fan of the two word phrase, low functioning.  I am not a fan of the two word phrase, high functioning either. I don't believe that it is a fair use of language.  But our use of this particular language continues and it will fairly describe the feelings that this environment evoked in me.  

I toured the facility and I continued to ask myself, "Why am I here?" and fully knowing the answer, "I am trying to find some people to listen to us and to hear my cry, "Can you please help me by writing some professional reports to adequately describe my child so people will listen."  My focus was to find support so the school environment would give my child an adequate education.

I had received a call from intake asking me if I was able to make the 6 hour drive and it just so happened that she called a few hours after a disturbing phone call.  The speech pathologist had called a few hours before explaining to me that she is recommending that services be stopped due to non compliance from my child.  Tears streaming down my face I volunteered to the intake coordinator that yes, I was a mess.  I meant that I was a mess at that particular hour of day.  I am not a mess all the way around, 24 hours a day. Again, it was my misuse of language.  You would think I would learn.  One more lesson that my use of language which makes it apparently clear to me if I, a non autistic adult, missuses language, that my child, diagnosed with severe expressive, receptive and pragmatic language, does indeed need the services. 

They asked me, "Can you see your son here?" and I thought, "No." It had nothing to do with the clientele.  It had to do with my conversation with the caregivers.  I know they are educated and I know they think that they are correct in their learning of how to handle scientific situations but it all comes down to this, "nobody knows how to take better care of my son than me."  No parent should feel less than or wrong for placing their child into the care of others if they feel it is the right choice for their child.  Nobody, and I mean nobody, is allowed to make me feel that I am a "less than parent."  

It all boiled down to one thing.  I knew that the emphasis would be about me.  She said one thing to me that sealed the deal.  It is this moment, when I think back, on where the red flags started waving in the hospital breeze of ambiance that made me want to run out the door.  It was the intake coordinator saying these few words, "Well you said you were a mess."  Experience has showed me that the focus would of been on me not the school.  

And of course if this had not been the case, I wouldn't of been able to provide my child with this opportunity because of the all mighty dollar.

My conclusion is easy for me to understand.  Never talk about myself and never assume that  people are out there who will stand up against an institution governed by people that are making rules where I, and my child, don't have a voice.  

It is sad and controversial.  It is also a conversation that I am willing to have with others.  I am not afraid.  My child is amazing, talented, kind and extremely intelligent.  It is my job to get him to a place of self sufficiency.  Sam and I will conquer this world together.

I leave you with this.  It is a message from a talented photographer:

Everyone communicates differently.  The main thing for Sam is communicating in alternative ways than what some people might traditionally expect.  Everyone has a purpose in this world.  Sam is here to create art and teach others with his condition that anything can be achieved.  Some of the most successful people like Einstein, Steve Jobs, Leonardo Di Caprio and John Lennon didn't even finish high school but found their way.

I couldn't of said it better myself.  And again, no parent should feel less than for making agonizing decisions on what is best for their child.  It doesn't matter what the decision is.  It just doesn't matter.

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.

I Was Going To Make A Facebook Post But...

I was going to make a post but I decided against it. My daughter always says that her friends are interested in Sam's page but my posts are too long.  I did a presentation last week and I was telling my daughter about how I make speeches without notes and she says yeah, you don't need notes.  I think her point is that I never run out of things to say.

So I am blogging my post because I have too much on my mind.
Today Sam worked with one his workers for an hour at a playground and it isn't respite for me.  I have to stay.  This agency has a rule that the parent must be present always.  I emphasize the word always.  I couldn't even go around the corner to the store to get a soda.  I am not going to lie.  Sitting for an hour in my car is no fun.  So I was reading this book "The Whole Brain Child" that was recommended by Sam's Music Therapist.  It was talking about how you should empathize with your child if they have had a negative experience.  It also said that you should talk about it with your child.  I wanted to throw that book out the window.  First of all that book was written for the parent who are raising neurotypical kids.   They are talking about if they were in a car accident or some one time event. What about being dragged to a 10x10 closet every day.  I do talk about the restraints and seclusions with my child.  I never want him to think that these awful things that have happened to him is his fault.  I am told by the experts that I am part of the problem because I do talk about the restraints with my child.  Duh!  He already knows about them.  Am I just supposed to just sit and do nothing because somebody else thinks it isn't a big deal or it isn't healthy for Sam.  These professionals thave the "They get over it" mentality.  No they don't get over it. The parents don't get over it either.    I didn't throw the book out the window because it is a library book and I don't have the money to pay for it. If it was my own book I would of gotten out of my car and thrown it away while spitting on it.  No offense to Sam's Music Therapist.  I probably should finish the book and have a intellectual discussion about it but I am not in the mood. 

My whole point is this...the book wasn't written for a parent who has a child with Autism.  The book wasn't written for misunderstood children who have a dual diagnosis of Autism and a Mental Health diagnosis.  The book wasn't written on what to do when the parent is seen as part of the problem.  The book doesn't have any of the answers that I am searching for.

On the way home from working with this particular worker Sam said, "Yeah, I was kinda sad."

"Sam, why were you sad?"

"I forget."

"No, you didn't forget.  You can tell me anything."

"Because sometimes I have visions of people hurting me.  Like in my old school where the guy threw me and I almost hit the wall. I can't sleep at night.  I don't like going to sleep at night."

As Sam's parent I am not backing down and telling this new school that they can lay their hands on him.  Once they lay their hands on Sam, Sam is going to go into fight or flight.   

I feel sick.

So I keep doing what I am doing.  I am teaching Sam photography and we are starting really cool projects to show the world that Sam CAN.  To heck with the educational system.  If I get him to a place where he is safe and happy, we can do the fun stuff after school.  

People ask me, "So what makes you happy?"  It is simple what makes me happy.  Ask Sam to take your photo.  Tell Sam, "Wow, your photography is awesome."  It also makes me happy when someone asks me to donate one of Sam's prints.  This is where I do get a little snobish, or maybe not (not really sure).  I like it when people specifically ask for a print for their specific cause.  I am so unbelievably busy that I like it even more when they remind me when I have forgotten to get them the print.  I had one of my favorite ladies from our YMCA call me twice for the print.  I don't need a thank you.  I just want to know that you really want the print.  I had one experiences where I have donated and the woman didn't even look like she cared.  I never want to feel that way again.  It felt lonely.  I work too hard to feel lonely. 

As a side note, there are two organizations that never have to ask for a donation because they have become a part of who I am.  They know who they are.  

It also makes me happy when I get to hang out with Sam.  I don't care if he has the camera in his hands. He is a really cool kid.

So tonight I was thinking about my post and how I should have my tag line be "Thanks for sharing and caring" but that is corny.  I do appreciate Sam's fans sharing his facebook page.  I also appreciate their generosity and their well wishes to communicate to us how much they care about my son.  I am a fortunate Mom.  

Now all I have to do is to keep him safe and happy from 8am-2pm weekdays.

Definition of Mental

1. a: of, relating to, or being intellectual as contrasted with overt physical activity.

2. a: of, relating to, or affected by a psychiatric disorder <mental patient>.

b: mentally disordered, mad, crazy.

I choose being an intellectual as my definition of being mental.

*The photo that I use for my background was taken by Sam.  You can find more of Sam's work at https://www.facebook.com/SnapshotsBySamMaloney