These Socks Are Broken

By Judi Searage

There is a place deep in your soul that aches when you realize that there is something not quite right with your child. "Not quite right" is not necessarily a bad thing; it's just something different than what you may have imagined. This book will take you along our journey with autism-from the beginning of acceptance to the amazing, self-directed life that can be achieved. My goal is to encourage parents and caregivers of children with special needs to see that there is hope and a future full of wonderful opportunities. My son, who was once unable to make eye contact and was completely nonverbal and incapable of making minor transitions, has become a loving, verbal, and smart individual with a great sense of humor. He plays Beethoven and Bach on his baby grand piano; dances the waltz, tango, and salsa at his ballroom-dance lessons; and enjoys hip-hop and playing the drums and the guitar. All his banging on metal chairs and slides as a little boy certainly has paid off. Once you can zone in on your child's gifts and abilities, the sky's the limit.I have included a variety of tools that have been monumental in teaching and encouraging Jake to be his absolute best-calendars, food charts, therapies, and so much more. God has given me the grace to raise two amazing children and the motivation to write this book. It hasn't been easy, but I will share as much as I can of what I've learned in order to make other people's lives easier. I hope this book will reach many. For every book purchased, a portion of proceeds willbe made to Autism Research, Education or Awareness

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098024475

Book preview

cover.jpg

These

Socks

Are Broken

Judi Searage

ISBN 978-1-0980-2446-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-0980-2448-2 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-0980-2447-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2020 by Judi Searage

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

The events that are recorded in this book are those I remember to the best of my ability. Though others may have a different take on those events, I mean no harm in anything I say.

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

Mark, for your amazing love and continued support

Jake, for sharing your beautiful soul

Vicki, for being Jake’s other mom

and to God, for choosing me.

Chapter One

In the Beginning

Hand flapping…odd noises…no eye contact…screaming…no language…lining things up…watching the credits after a TV show…not responding to simple direction…repetition…covering ears at the slightest noise…no interaction…no interest in toys…no interest in other children…no interest…no interest…no interest.

There is a place deep in your soul that aches when you realize that there is something not quite right with your child. It is an ache that will never disappear, but it can be replaced with joy every time the slightest bit of progress is achieved. Eventually, on occasion, you will even begin to consider yourself blessed. This book is my attempt to share a different perspective and to enlighten others with what I have learned thus far on my journey with my amazing son, Jake, who happens to have autism.

Chapter 2

Wake-Up Call—It’s Time to Smell the Roses

He’s just not talking yet…he’s the second child…no, not my child…it’s nothing, he’ll grow out of it…can’t be…he’s just quiet…no one in our family has that…blah, blah, blah.

As a parent, you just know. You see your child is just different, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. He (I will use he in the book since the percentage of males affected is so much higher than the percentage of females) may hit all the physical developmental milestones right on time, but something else will be missing. When you look into the eyes of a child with autism before they are diagnosed and receiving help, it can feel like you are unable to see inside of them. You call his name, you clap your hands, you stand on your head—nothing. It is heart-wrenching, to say the least. You may be sad or angry or totally in denial, but this will be of no use to your child. I think that one of the worst things you can do is procrastinate. Evaluation! Get him evaluated, and get every possible therapy and service that you can. We pioneers (that’s what I call the parents who learned about autism with me) learned the hard way. We listened to uninformed pediatricians. We listened to parents who had never even heard of autism; they kept trying to convince us with he is the second child and all children develop at their own pace, or even better, in our neighborhood he didn’t speak until he was four. Don’t listen to them. Listen to your gut. Put your pain on the back burner and push full speed ahead; educate yourself as best you can. Trust me; the pain will be there when you finally have the time to deal with it. (I am still waiting for the pain fairy to come and take it away; no luck so far.) In the interim, your child will be getting the help he needs and can begin the journey to becoming his absolute best.

Chapter 3

A School of Fish

6:1:2… 9:1:3… 12:1:4… CPSE… CSE… IEP… IQ… ABA… Special Education…Occupational Therapy…Physical Therapy…observation…role model…services…

Conventional education is just not in our vocabulary. I would be lying if I said that educating an autistic child is going to be easy; it is anything but easy. Once Jake was diagnosed, our home became an educational playground. It began with a special-education teacher and a speech therapist coming to our home several times a week for one-hour sessions. We’d go out once a week for a one-hour session of occupational therapy. As Jake was able to receive more services from the school district, the sessions grew longer, and the revolving door swung faster. Everyone was wonderful, but it was chaotic, and Jake was not always particularly happy about it. Okay, he wasn’t really happy about it at all. There would be screaming and kicking and crying, and he wanted his mommy to make it all better. I knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but it was the only way he was going to learn anything. All I can say is that special educator and saint are practically synonymous. These people are loving and caring yet able to be strong and keep the child’s best interests at heart. Sometimes I couldn’t take it, and I’d go sit on the front step; it’s difficult to hear your child’s frustration and crying even though you know he’s getting what he needs. Even now, some of Jake’s teachers are able to get more out of him than I can. I give my thanks to every one of you who has worked with Jake.

We live within a school district that has been absolutely incredible. When I received the letter that informed me that I had to meet with the Committee on Preschool Special Education (CPSE), I got just a little nervous. It all sounded so official. In attendance were the head of special education, a special-education teacher, a speech therapist, an occupational therapist, a parent advocate, and I. I kept hearing the song You and Me Against the World over and over in my head. I didn’t know what I was in for. Everyone gave their recommendation for the services Jake should receive for the following school year. They also decided on the size of the classroom, tossing around numbers like 9:1:2 and 12:1:4. What the heck do those even mean? I thought. Later,