first day high

Hay... today was the first day of school. I was getting a little apprehensive days before, thinking what could go wrong today. Especially since I cannot come with him. I asked my sister-in-law to accompany my kids to school.

After an hour or two, she texted me that Dale doesn't want to go inside the classroom. Just for one reason--he's been transfered to another section.

Their school has this 'policy' that your section from Grade One will still be your section until you graduate. He was in St. Dominic for 2 years already. But the old section was dissolved. So, he's now in St. Matthew.

The guidance counsellor took an hour to convince him to go to class.

When he got home, I asked him what happened. He smiled at me, and told me that he even asked his teacher (Ms. Celedio) to take down the sign, and replace it with St. Dominic. Haha.

But he promised he will go to the room tomorrow without any problems. He even showed me his diary where he wrote his daily schedule and some reminders, in cursive, no less. He needs to practice writing in cursive now. His teachers forgave him for not doing so in Grade 2, but not this year.

I'm praying that there will be no problems tomorrow or the next, and if there were, I pray for strength, and I pray that Dale can overcome everything.

April 10

Since we have insurance already, i brought Dale and Tony to the dentist to have their teeth cleened. Here is Kuya being so happy... hehe.




and a little worried.





but he didn't cry!





And here was Anton:





his gag reflex was a little active that time, but he finished the process okay.





Next time, it will be Anea's turn (one who's really scared of the dentist).

when later becomes better

When Anea was just a baby and some of the kids I knew from my friends were growing, I'd be so envious at how they were talking so fluently in English. I'd marvel at their pronunciation and diction. I told myself my kids are going to be like these kids in the future.

True enough, they all did. Anea lost the consistent use of the language when she entered preparatory. She learned nicely in preschool. Dale gained it in special school and at home. Tony gained it because of Dale. Since Dale speaks and understands only English before, everyone was "obliged" to use it. We just realized our mistake when he entered Regular school.

But now, I'm pleased that Dale can understand more tagalog words. He can even try talking in Tagalog, but still, he's been experiencing difficulties, both with meaning and pronunciation. We studied Sibika today, and it took us a long time to get everything right.

Noli Me Tangere, he pronounces like "tangerine". And El Filibusterismo, as "bus" like what we ride on... and the "o" in the end is very-well pronounced. Super sleng, kumbaga. If you hear him say it, you might think it funny at first, but when he cannot pronounce it right after a number of tries, that's when you start to pity him.

He kept on saying Apolinio Manibi (Apolinario Mabini), and he just couldn't get it right. He started being annoyed and wanted to cry in frustration.

Until he just gave up and said he wanted to sleep coz he was so tired of studying. Of course, I let him sleep. We can always try again later.

Everything about Dale comes with perfect timing and consistency. I'm sure later, everything will be better.

To clarify...

What i wrote earlier does not mean that i am sad about what Dale said. I wrote that as a literary piece. But, if you are going to ask me, I AM DELIRIOUSLY HAPPY. It only means one thing to me--Dale is feeling and thinking like a normal child. Like everyone else.

For the longest time, I did not think that it matters to him. And now, he brings me tears, pain, realization and discovery.

It made me cry buckets of happy tears.

Hooray for Dale!

realization and understanding....

Earlier, Dale and I were lying on the bed and he began asking me questions about a very old stuffed toy I have.

"Where did Garfield come from?" he asked while he played with it.

"Daddy gave that to me when he was just my boyfriend. When we were teenagers."

What came next was never expected. Dale, my son who was diagnosed as having autism at age 3, began crying.

"That means love, mommy!" I turned around at the sound of his distressed voice.

"Yes. Why are you crying?" I asked him, surprised and concerned at the same time.

"You said Daddy gave you this when you were boyfriends. It means Daddy loves you! Then what happened? Did you love Daddy?" he asked, looking at Garfield intently.

"Yes."

"Oh. So, it's him." he said matter-of-factly as he began wiping away his tears. "Don't worry, Mommy. I will talk to Daddy."

I dare not ask him what he meant by "it's him," I felt so vulnerable, I don't even know how to react to all of it.

"And what will you tell him?" I asked curiously.

"I'll tell him to take you back." and with that, he smiled at me. A smile that will make you believe in the possibility of happy-ever-afters.

If only I can bring myself to smile back.

problems

there were problems with his behavior last month. Almost everyday, there were notes from his teachers in his diary. It was heartbreaking to see. After several months of being okay in school, here we go again.

he wouldn't write on his notebooks, he only cooperates during two classes (same teacher), and since he didn't write, we didn't know he had a Math project to submit, so, 70%.

when i talked to him seriously, he said:

"coz i'm sad... and i want Papa (his lolo) to come home. Can he come home?"

he said he wanted his Papa to come and be the one to accompany him to school again. coz Papa makes him happy, and Papa knows all the cool games. He's fun!

Hay...

and then he told me something that made my blood boil. He asked me:

"Mommy, what is behavioral problem?"

I asked him where he got that. He said:

"I have it. I have behavioral problems. I read it from the school health record. I also have speech problems."

I was speechless.

"You see? That's why I talk like this... so fast... and that's why I can't listen and I stand up in class... I have problems."

I have to tell myself to breathe, before I start to explode and run to his school and demand an explanation. I have to act rationally, and calmly.

His guidance counsellor didn't know about his problems as it turned out. The teachers weren't telling him. And they talked to the nurse and adviser right away after my complaint.

Now, we all know why he is being so difficult.

As of today, he's been doing okay again. I just hope that it continues.

Working Mom July 2007 feature

Around the end of March this year, I was approached by Working Mom editor Joy Rojas, asking me if they could feature me in their magazine. I knew this would happen, as Ms. Marissa Lopez said they would give my article to the publication. I thought they would just have my article printed of some sort, but it was an interview by very talented and kind Janet Villa. A photo shoot came next by Alfred Mendoza.

The interview went well. I felt like I have known Janet for a long time. In most cases, I can be a very good judge of character and I am not mistaken with Janet.

Alfred, of course, was very patient. I am a self-confessed camwhore. BUT, I do the taking. However, that time, it was a different person, and I really had a very difficult time focusing. My lips were quiverring all the time, and I just couldn't relax. Plus the fact that I thought that I would really look bad in those pictures coz I was so fat and so sick-looking. Hehe.

Anyway, a lot happened after the interview. My supposed to be happy marriage ended about a week after it. It wasn't a sad ending. There weren't nasty fights or something. I am not even sure if this is the end of it all. I am still hoping for an unbroken family. Maybe not now.

I just wanna say thanks to Janet for being subtle and not including everything I have said. God bless you and your family as well.

the influence of TV Patrol

It rained today. And when it rains, Kuya gets a little scared. Now, it's just a little. Compared to before where he really cowers and such, this is great.

He took cover under a pillow, and I peaked inside.

Me: Hey.

Kuya: Hi.

Me: You scared?

Kuya: Yes.

Me: Why?

Kuya: Because the earth is gonna fill up with rain and people will drown! Just like Malabon!

Ah, okay.

of nightmares and coffee

Today, right at this moment, I'm looking at my son, Dale, sleeping soundly in my bed. In his hand was a plastic toy flower. My mom gave it to him when he had a tantrum. He wanted to buy something from the store, but sadly, the stores were closed. So, in between sobs, he slept, flower in hand.

My mom went to sleep right after. She was exhausted. Oftentimes, dealing with Dale's tantrums can be physically draining, not to mention emotionally tiring. Mom couldn't stand it when Dale does something unusual, like look up at the ceiling and shake his head, or giggle for no apparent reason.

When I look at him like this, peacefully sleeping, I try to visualize what his dreams may be like. Does he dream at all? Does he have nightmares like we all do? If he does, what is it that he fears the most?

I wish he could tell me when he wakes up. I wish he can wake up in the middle of the night and cry and when I ask him he'll tell me "Mamaw!" just like his brother, Anton. But there were never moments like this.

But I'm still thankful and happy, for when he's awake he can now tell me what he wants... he points, and he whispers them to me. He looks for me now when I'm not in the room, shouting "Mommy!" while going to every room.

Two days ago, he woke up at 4:30 in the morning, he tugged at my hand, and I, thinking that he had a nightmare, told him "Ssh... what is it?", and he told me...

"Coffee?"

And then I looked at my son in the dark. I thought, I was wrong. I have to be thankful if he doesn't have nightmares.

You know what my nightmares are?

They're moments that Dale wakes up in the dark, just sitting beside me, staring at me, and not telling me what he wanted because he did not know how...

And they're moments when Dale wakes up in the middle of the night asking for coffee, but couldn't find me in the dark.

I was cleaning my files, and I saw this piece at the back of some of my papers... I'm not sure when I wrote this, years ago, i think.

I still have the same nightmares now and again.

Effective Communication and Sonia Roco

I got an email from MiranaMedina about my reaction about Sonia Roco:

I forwarded your email to ASP President Dang Koe -- NAIYAK SIYA.

I forwarded it to Sonia ROco -- bumalik ang email, permanent failure daw. Siguro sa dami ng nag react sa sinabi nya, napuno na....

I forwarded it to ASP Founding President Cecile Sicam, at ito reaction nya--

"Sa totoo lang, ako I would still vote for Sonia Roco - maybe now more than ever. Why? because she's still one of the most credible people in the roster of candidates (as against the traditional politicians, jocks and celebrities who are running), because she put autism on the political map with her "innocent" comment (at least she knows what autism is) and because now that she knows us, we will have leverage for legislation in the senate (in case she gets elected). Let's turn her booboo into our advantage, right?"

Best regards to you and your Mom! and Hugs to Dale!

Ako? I stand by my decision not to vote for her. I do not know Sonia Roco. I am not judging her whole personality with just one remark on TV. I am judging her sincerity with 2 remarks she said on TV and one she wrote.

I am a graduate of Communication Arts from a respectable college. We studied Effective Communication like crazy. We watched movies and were asked to answer a lot of questions, make endless reviews and compose summaries.

"why did the white handkerchief fall?"
"what was the significance of the white dove?"
"why was it necessary for her tear to fall from her left eye and not the right?"

In the four years I have been in college, 2 years in graduate, a year in a university, 3 seasons of House, and in the 32 years that I have breathed, I learned that EVERYBODY LIES.

I watched her apology on TV, I read her letter.

She might have apologized, she might have known and could grasp a fraction of what it feels like to be one of us.

But she lied.

Her lies were written. Her lies were in her eyes. You cannot fake sincerity. Genuine sincerity is felt.

"The problem with life is that unlike movies, it doesn't have a background music. We never know how we're supposed to feel..."

When we watched her on TV, all we said after was--that's it?

When we read her apology, I noticed her ending--

If there is any way I could be of help just in case I make it to the Senate, with your support which I pray you will bless me with, please feel free to contact me anytime.

Sure, you will. With Dang's support? Goodness me, is this for real?

Let's take a moment to reflect on that.

400,000 affected families have been rallying for a more autism-friendly country. 20 years of bringing everything into perspective. Yes, there was the Magna Carta. Yes, there were special schools. Yes, there were politicians who helped us. But it's not enough. You know it's not.

Let's say you're the President. You only have a limited budget. Which sector will you prioritize?

C'mon. Let's be realistic. The government will prioritize the schooling of the 'normal' kids. You know why, don't you? Because it will cost lesser, and the reaping, sooner. Everyone likes the easy way out. They will choose to finance the kid who can be a corrupt senator sooner, than a child with Autism who can paint (and wish that he can be a dreaming, foul-mouthed, corrupt senatoriable so much later?).

When I learned that Dale has autism, and that there is nothing that this government can do to make him better, I decided to take action on my own. The first thing I did was to accept it. If you do not accept the situation, you can never help the child.

The next thing I did was go online and read. I read a lot about it, the definitions, characteristics, the journals, the experiments. Then I read the stories of other people. I read their heartaches, their triumphs, their truths. And as if reading on my own wasn't enough, I enrolled in a university.

While I was doing those, Dale was in a special school. When he gets home, I teach him what I learned.

We didn't go to therapy. We didn't follow the special diet. We just bonded as mother and son.

I am not saying that other parents have not done what I did. I know that all parents did what they could to help their children. Some were successful, others weren't. Or maybe they still were, but were not just aware of it.

My point is, I learned to choose my battles. A battle with the government is a battle with no evident outcome... just empty promises.

And I'm not going to waste my time wishing they could prove me otherwise.


"Clever is when you believe only half of what you hear. Brilliant is when you know which half to believe."



p.s.
quotations are text messages from a good friend--Basti.

I believe that it's all the more better to continue 'talking' about what Roco said NOW. All the more ASP should talk and comment. it's true that we have been 'heard'.. but it shouldn't stop there. People said that we should take this to our advantage... why aren't ASP taking it now? Sandaling media coverage lang nangyari... walang TV commentary about Alyana, about what Autism is, how many families are affected, how they can help us. Ewan ko. Sabi nga nila, 'Strike while the iron is hot.'