Max attended the AZYLF 2019

During the month of April, I was trying to figure out what
Max could do over the summer. 

I knew I didn't want him sitting around playing on his iPad.

 I prayed that I could find something for him to do. He did get a job and loved it,

 but I felt there was something more he needed.

 So, I search for programs that he could attend and found the

 Arizona Youth Leadership Form. 

He loved it!

He went for five days and had the most amazing time. He stayed in a dorm on the 14 floor and had a roommate and was learning about how to
transition from a youth to an adult. 

It was hard to let him go, but I have realized I need to let him spread his wings. 

Max came home so happy that he went. He even graduated from the program. 

We were not able to attend the graduation,
but was able to get some pictures from it. 

Max is wearing the navy blue shirt in the pictures. 

Here he is speaking at the Graduation. 

After he came home, he was thrilled that they invited him to come to state.

His peers are on church missions, getting married or moving on in life. 

Max on the other hand, is learning how to someday make that step. 

I think we did the right thing in holding him back in high school
 for two extra years on top of the regular four.

This next year will be Max's second year of being a senior. 

I have noticed Max is recognizing what is happening more around him. 

It warms my heart to see him growing into a wonderful young man. 

He is learning how to advocate for himself.
That has always been a struggle for him.

 I have noticed lots of people that have autism
 have a hard time advocating for themselves. 

The way we have helped him learn to advocate for himself is

 through rehabilitation, a goal in his IEP at school and

 I have made it a goal for him at home. 

About six months ago, Max noticed the young men in
our church who are a year younger than him
were preparing to serve a church mission. 

He said, "Mom everyone around me is growing up." 

My heart broke, broke into a million pieces

 that he felt left behind. 

I tried to hold back the tears, but they came. 

When you have a special needs child the tears often come
 when you least expect them to. 

I knew though, that Max had surpassed them
in ways they would never reach. 

He is gentle, kind, loving, friendly, helpful and he always smiles.

 Max doesn't see the bad in people only the good. 

Max has been an example to me.
He has taught me how to have patience. 

He has taught me how to love others.

He has been a blessing. 

Pure joy!

Friday, February 20, 2015

Reason I have been not writing for while

It's not easy or a cake walk .I am having a hard time wondering where I shall go what I shall do and who  I should trust now. I have had homework after homework. Wondering if  God really loves me, the truth is God really loves me, because he wants me to grow strong and shine and be that jewel, under heat and pressure, to give me the power I need for the future .  "The world is better with God, then without God."

  "The power of love is more powerful than worldly possessions. " by Max

My grandfather said to my mom before he died "nothing means more to me than being sealed to your mother." I wonder if he would be proud with me, PS everyone stay tuned with my news in sites on what you need help with because its coming soon.

 Words from Max  

Max shared with me how he remembers my father seating on our couch and watching his oldest brother and his friends dance on a Sony play station dance pad and having fun. He said he remembers my father laughing and being happy. I am grateful he remembers something about my dad. Max was three years old during this time. Surprises me that Max remembers. 

The Blessings Of Having A Teenager With Autism

Ten  Eleven Awesome Reasons Why Max Is Magnificent  

1.       He calls me on his bus ride home every day. He says, “Mom, I want to tell you something. I love you.”

2.       He never tries to lie or cheat. When I ask him a question he will answer truthfully even when he knows he did something wrong. It’s remarkable.

3.       He follows directions and obeys rules. A week ago, we were driving over to celebrate his Grandma’s birthday. We had a pot of chili in the back of the van. Max was asked by his father to unbuckle at the stop light to quickly check to see if the lid was still on the pot. Max response was,  "Dad I don’t want you to get a ticket and it’s not safe for me to unbuckle. Do you want me to die dad? I will die if I unbuckle and you will get a ticket from a policeman. Do you want me to have a funeral dad?” Max’s dad agreed and that was the end of the story. My other children would have jumped at the opportunity to unbuckle and check the food.  For the next 15 minutes Max kept explaining that he felt bad that he can’t disobey the rules.

4.       He always has a smile and loves to laugh at whatever is being said.

5.       He will ask the most unique questions. “Mom what does nude mean?” After he is told what the definition for nude is. He has a comeback with… “So when you shower you are nude and when you have clothes on you are ude.” Everyone got a kick out of it and Max invented a new word. “Ude”.  Max is so cleaver.

6.       Max is affectionate. He will put his arm around me at church and hold my hand. He loves to give hugs. When he was little the only way to get him to sleep was to roll him tight in a heavy blanket and rock him. He loved being held tight.

7.       Every night he likes me to tuck him in bed and turn the light off. He will wrap his baby blanket (I made the blanket when he was little) around his head when he is sleeping.

8.       He tries to keep up with practicing the viola and reading scriptures. We started reading the Doctrine and Covenants a week before school to give him a head start for seminary. It’s a requirement for the school year for him to read this book. After school started he came home and said, “I have to read Joseph Smith History before I can read anything else.”

9.       When we went to meet the teacher night at school the math teacher and the seminary teacher said Max loves to talk. I was shocked because when Max was little he was non-verbal until the age of five. He had no language and was not able to express anything he needed or wanted. The only way I could figure out what he needed was when he banged his head on the floor or screamed. What a blessing it is that he is able to use words and express what he wants and needs. He has come a long way and now he tells me he loves me. I cried the first time he said Mom.

10.   There are so many other awesome things about having a teenager with autism and I will continue to share them. Max has been a source of strength to many people including me. He has been a light and an example of how I should strive to be. Thank you Max for letting me be your mother.

11.   One last thing…I have been blessed with four other amazing children, two son in laws, one daughter in law and three grandchildren. My magnificent grandson has autism and has been an added strength to our family and to me.  Max loves his nephew and enjoys being with him. Max understands that they both have been blessed with learning to cope with having autism. I asked Max a week ago how does it feel to have autism and he said, “Mom it’s hard, it’s so hard. People don’t understand me.”

 Max at Camp Lo Mia

 

 



Its A Hundred And Five

Every morning before the bus arrives. Max has to search on my I-pad for the forecast for the day. This morning he read that it was going to be 105 or higher and cloud cover.

I love how he will ask the same questions at the breakfast table each morning. "Mom is it going to rain today?"  And each day I give him the same answer. "I don't think so."

Today while we sat on the couch and waited for the bus we looked at the next week forecast. He liked it when there was a little cloud with blue lines coming down out of them on the forecast below the temperature. When the bus arrived he jumped up and ran to his bedroom going in the opposite direction of the front door.

I call him to come and warned him the bus might leave without him. After about two minutes of calling him. He leisurely walked into the living room and had one arm in the sleeve of his thick coat and was getting ready to put it completely on.

I asked him why he felt a need to take the jacket. His response was. "Mom it might rain and I don't want to get wet." Somehow I was able to convince him to leave without his coat in hand and make it to the bus carrying only his back pack and viola.

Years ago when Max was about seven maybe a little older. He would always want to wear a thick jacket when playing outside when it was a hundred plus degrees. I had learned to pack up those winter clothes before the heat struck the valley of the Sun. Over the years I had grown more relaxed and stopped packing up those winter clothes. I guess I'm going to have to pack them up again and hope for the best.

I honestly can say there is never a dull moment with Max. I love every second, minute and hour of the day with him. He is one amazing young man.

I'm grateful for Max and I feel blessed to have him.

Tuesday'S Breakfast with STRAWBERRIES!

Max's bus arrives at 6:55am and that has been the norm for Max since the age of three. The ticket for Max to have a successful morning is making sure everything is in order before I even wake him up. Make sure his egg is in the pan, toast in the toaster and milk poured. For about two months now I have been letting Max pick out his own clothes combinations.  Shirt and shorts. After twelve and half years of dressing him, I'm glad we graduated to the next step.  For the most part Max does a awesome job. Sometimes though, he feels if his pants have a pattern in them, so should the shirt. I feel blessed that he can now dress himself. 
*Hooray* 

This morning was off to a good start. Max walked into the kitchen put his red apron on and sat at the table. I have struggled these last six months to find a jam or jelly that he would like, to no avail.  I decided to do what I did as a kid. A little sprinkle of sugar. Max loves to talk about random stuff and while he observed his strawberries on his plate he anxiously shared he had homework.

"Oh, did you sign my PE form...I need my tennis shoes." Max returns to the table with shoes in hand. "I have to take my shoes today."

I took a deep breath and exhaled with discouragement. His dirty shoes sat near my feet.  I failed as a mom, not catching earlier how dirty his tennis shoes were after Boys Scout camp. "Max, Mom needs to wash them before you can take them. I will send a note to the PE coach about the shoes."

Max moved his body in my direction. "Mom I have to have my shoes and you need to sign my paper." 

I stopped myself from looking at the clock, knowing the bus should be here in the next couple of minutes.

Max continues holding the strawberries.  "Mom these strawberries have mold on them. Look mom, look at these strawberries. I can't eat them they will make me sick. Why can't you buy the good ones at the store mom, the ones that are good?" 

I contemplated whether I could put on the mean hat and tell him he needs to eat it or should I place the gentle hat on and tell him he doesn't have to eat it. I told myself several times over the years that I can't let him get away with everything because of the autism.

"Max you have been upset with me when I don't buy you strawberries and now you won't eat the ones I buy.  You have to eat.  You are a big boy now and you need to eat what is on your plate."

Max holds up the strawberry.  "Look at the mold mom.  Look how moldy it is."

Max had two strawberries on his plate and time was passing quickly. He still needed to finish his homework, brush his hair and teeth, and I needed to get his lunch in his back pack.

"Max, I would never give you strawberries with mold on them. You need to eat one of them."

I was proud that he took the strawberry and ate it.

He quickly moved to the other side of the table where I had his homework. Max has a hard time using a pencil because he pushes to hard on the paper and ripes it. I have bought mechanical pencils for him hoping it would help. He placed the mechanical pencil in his hand."Mom there is no lead in this pencil. I frantically look in my pencil box near the telephone. "Use this one."

Max runs his fingers over the paper. "What do I do on this paper, Mom?" 

I read it out loud. "What is the best way for you to learn?"  Right next to the question Max had printed the word "tactile".  I guess he wrote that in class yesterday.

"Well Max what helps you to learn? I think you like to touch the item and feel if it's hard or soft. You like to look at it to see how it's made. Think about your Lego's and how you decide to build your buildings and airplanes."

"Mom this is not what I mean. I can't understand what the question is."

"Max it's asking you how do you best learn or understand stuff. Are you a visual learner, hands on learner or do you like to read the instructions?"

Max got very frustrated and dropped the pencil on the table. His eyes met mine with a overwhelming need for help with the question. I decided the time was running out and I heard the engine the bus was at our doorstep.  I picked up the paper place it in his folder and told him to finish it at school. 

Then I placed his lunch sack in his back pack and we walked to the restroom to brush his hair and teeth. When he walked out the front door with the viola strap and back pack on his shoulder.  I was pleased that he has grown into the sweet loving boy that once was difficult to handle. He continues to take one step forward and two steps back, but in my heart he has grown two steps forward and one step back.

Sunday he asked me what charity meant and what does it mean to be humble. Honestly I believe those are two words that describe my Magnificent Max.

Being Bullied

Last Thursday was a new beginning for Max and me. He came home extremely upset and had no desire to do anything. I read Max’s communication log from the teacher and found that he had cried profusely at school in the cafeteria. I asked him about thirty minutes after he came home, and had some relax time what had happened at school to make him cry.  It’s not common for Max to cry at school. 

I recorded on video what he said, but I promised him I would not post it on his blog. I do want to share this horrible experience with you. Those of you who have a special needs child or typical child I’m sure have dealt with this same issue. I’m sure you understand how difficult this is to even write about.

Max attends a fourth grade typical class once a day for about an hour for math. He is doing well with the math and enjoys learning new concepts, but after Thursday’s class he has been upset. This is what he told me that happened. "Iwent over to some girls and asked them to help me with the long division. The girls told me to go ask the boys. So I went over to the table with four boys and they told me no. They talked in a different language and I asked them what type of language they were talking. They said we are talking Italian."

That is about all Max could relate to me of what happened. If Max was a typical eleven year old he would have been able to tell me their names, what they all said and what really happened. He did tell me that the teacher left the room or went to the door, so I guess there was no supervision.

 My heart is heavy. Why must Max be subjected to intimidation and rejection? I knew sometime in the near future he would have to deal with being bullied, but I just wish it didn’t happen for another couple of years.

Friday he told me he had the diarrhea and can’t go to school. He begged me to stay home and told me he didn’t want to go to that math class. 

When our eyes connected he had tears with a sweet voice that pierce my heart. “Mom I’m not like them, they are rude and mean. Why are they mean to me?”

I tried to explain to him that there will be people that aren’t nice to him. I told him I had it happened to me when I was little and even now I have had people be mean to me. He looked at me with a puzzled face as if what I was saying was not logical. 

Tomorrow the teacher is going to send an aide with Max. I am worried that these kids in this typical class have labeled him, with a label we all don’t want our kids to have.

Max doesn’t have any real friends. What are real friend anyway?  What are friends for?  Why do we have them? I have asked myself often what is a real friend. Then when I asked Max who he wants to come to his birthday party he said with a smile. “My friends.”

I got anxious to hear him name off friends from school or church.  “What are your friends names?”

He didn’t have to think he just spilled out names faster than I could intake them. “My brothers, sisters, my aunts and uncles and that is it.” 

My chest began to burn and my eyes filled with tears at the thought his friends are his aunts and uncle and his brothers and sisters.

I wish I could put a shield of armor on Max to protect him from getting hurt, but I know that isn’t possible. Hard part about being a parents is watching your child be left out of the circle and not feeling like they fit in. 

My daughter took these pictures of Max while on a walk around our neighborhood. I love these pictures. 

Satan stink!

                                             Max on Christmas Eve.

Max wanted me to take him to a bird shop to see the birds last Saturday. When we arrived the shop had a sign stating they had closed. A hundred questions came out of Max of why did they close down. Why aren't they open? I tried to explain to him that the economy is not good and so stores and places are going out of business.

I was shocked when that evening during dinner prayer Max spoke up interrupting the person giving the prayer. He said, Excuse me, please bless the economy." Since that prayer each time we have prayer Max prayers for the economy to get better.

On Sunday after church Max and I were sitting at the table eating my homemade salsa and corn chips. I loved moments like this where we were together and I especially liked it when he would bring up a subject on something I had not thought about. Max taps my arm.

"You know what is bad about Satan Mom?"

"What is bad about Satan?"

Max swallows his chip before he speaks. "What is bad about Satan is his breath stinks and he is really rude and impolite and he talks garbage."

I got up to get a dishcloth to  wipe up the salsa on the table that Max had dropped. When I pulled out the chair to sit down I gave max a puzzled look. "Really?"

Max dipped a chip into the salsa bowl. "He says bad words and makes me think bad things about people."

I pondered a few seconds before I spoke. " Satan doesn't want anyone to be happy. He wants us to do things that are wrong and mean."

Max got up and looked at me before he went to get a cup of water. "I don't like Satan even if he is Jesus' brother."

Max is something else. My grandfather often told me, "Max is going to be a joy years down the road. He will brighten your days with wonderful thoughts." 
You know, my grandfather was right he is a blessing and joy. I will never forget when I took Max over to meet Grandpa. He was unable to stay still and wouldn't slow down enough for me to enjoy visiting with Grandpa. Grandpa could tell I was frustrated and wanted a break. So he wrote me a note days later after our visit and express how years later I would see the reward of Max's sweet spirit.

An experience Max will never forget.

Max had a horrifying reaction to his allergy injection today. He got his shots around 11:30 and by one his face was exceedingly red with a severe rash. He was coughing and trying to clear his throat.  His nose seemed stuffed up and he acted a little edgy. I called the doctor and was told to give him two teaspoons of Benadryl and then come immediately to the doctors. 

We arrived there around 1:30 and they rushed him back to a room.  Quickly the doctor checked his blood pressure, listened to his lungs. When the doctor asked Max if he could breath he looked into her eyes without a response. I spoke without thinking.  “You know Max has autism.” I looked at Max and asked him if he could breathe out of his nose.  He spoke with his hoarse voice.  “No I can’t.”

She gazed into Max’s eyes, “Max I need to give you an injection of epinephrine right away to counter act the injection you got earlier.  I told Max I would hold his hand while they give him a shot.  He squeezed my hand tight as if he was holding on to dear life and they gently poked a needle in his thigh. Within five minutes the redness in his face began to fade and his breathing got better. 

The doctor told me Max had Anaphylaxis. It’s when the throat swells and becomes very hoarse or whispered voice, or coarse sounds when the person is breathing in air.  Max had a couple of those symptoms.  He went into anaphylactic shock.  I felt hopeless watching him try to take a breath.

Today I could have lost Max.  I’m appreciative for the wonderful doctor and nurse who helped him recover from this horrible experience.  I’m thankful to my daughter and daughter in law who noticed his red face and reaction to the shot.  Max had been down in the basement playing on the computer and came up for a few minutes to see his nephew.  I had been cooking in the kitchen and would have never noticed his face without them telling me. Tonight I will not sleep.  My thoughts will be on dear sweet Max.  I am sure I will travel up the stairs a billion times to check on him. I'm blessed that he is here so I can make that journey up the stairs to see him resting in his bed.  To have lost him would have been like someone swiftly ripping my heart out.  We love you Max.  We love your sweetness, love and compassion for everyone. 

Oh, Max prayed last week for dinner and blessed those that made the bagel bites, that they would be safe and happy. Last week I asked Max to take some presents I had wrapped upstairs.  As he picked up each gift and carried in out of my room he said, “Mom God will bless you for buying me presents.”

Twice in the past couple of weeks he has been asking me random questions some are harder for me to answer and some have been surprising.  He asked me who my first boyfriend was, what his name was and how old is he.  He asked me if he has any brothers or sisters and do I talk with him anymore.  I told him he doesn’t like me and that I haven’t spoken to him almost thirty years.  He looked into my eyes with a firm smile.  “I think you need to pray and ask God to make you friends again.” 

The sweet same question he asked often is “What does blessing mean?”   

A heart felt gift.

I was taken back when I saw Christmas wrapping paper rolled out on my bed.  A large piece had been unevenly cut out.  I ran down the stairs and asked those who were seated around the kitchen table. “Did anyone wrap a gift today?”  Those that had swallowed their food answer quickly.  “No.”  I dropped the question and search in the cabinet for a pot to make orange chicken (Max’s favorite). 

Within seconds after I entered Max’s bedroom after cleaning the kitchen, I discovered on his brown desk a wrapped gift.  I picked it up and observed the torn piece of Christmas wrapping paper with Max’s hand writing plastered down with scotch tape, to Alex from Max.   I glanced down at Max seated on his bedroom floor playing with Lego’s.  “Max what did you wrap for Alex?”  Max jump up and grabbed the gift.  “Mom, that’s one of my walkie— talkies for Alex.  I want him to have it, so we can talk to each other after we move away.”  My heart softened after I realize Max is beginning to make friends.  Alex is one of his classmates that lives down the street and has been in Max’s self—contained autistic class since kindergarten.   I tip—toed over to Max’s bed trying not to step on his Lego’s.  I sat on the edge of his bed and prayed for a way to explain that his walkie—talkies only work a mile away from each other.   His eyebrows drooped and his lips shriveled as he looked into my eyes.  I’m sure to ask, why not.  He placed the gift on the corner of the desk and acted as thought he understood.  I sensed he didn’t.

Question from Max

Tonight at the dinner table, Max asked me if I was born when Abraham Lincoln was President. 
I told him no.
He moved his hands above his head.  "Who was President when you were born?"
"Lyndon Johnson."
His eyes glared at me. "Is he alive?"
"No Max he isn't."
"Well then Mom, you need to go visit his grave." 


 Last week Max kept asking me if we can visit Uncle Grant's grave.  He repeated this sentence until I finally told him his grave is in Utah far away from here.

"Mama why are you blind?"

It finally happened. The question I have been asked all my life was finally asked by Max this morning.  A question I didn’t believe would be asked from him for years to come. 

I knelt in front of Max and tied his left shoe and then looked up at him.  Words he spoke pierce my soul when he gazed into my eyes.  “Mama, can you see anything out of your blind eye?” 

I finished tying his shoes and gave a solid smile.  “I don’t see anything out of my blind eye.  Place your right hand over your right eye.” 

Max pushed his hand up against his eye and looked around his bedroom.

“Can you see anything out of it Max?” 

“No.”

"Well, that is what Mom sees, nothing.”

He pulled his hand away from his eye.  “I wouldn’t like that.”

Five minutes later he started up with a new conversation at the breakfast table.  He steadily spoke between spoonfuls of his cereal.

“The homeless get in danger if we didn’t help them.  They would be out of control and we don’t want them out of control.  If they go out of control they will think we are killing them. We bless them now or two days here that we need to bless them.  Two days. “

“What are you thinking about Max?”

“Video games.”

“Why video games.”

“Wii video games that we have. Nintendo is a game system, isn’t it Mama.”

“Yes it is.”

“I’m thinking about school right now, why are you like that Mama?  Thinking about the Rattle Snake that was scary and crazy like a skill athlete, but not really a skilled athlete.” Max ate his last spoonful.  “Mama, you need to get a MMR shot so you can see out of your eye.”

I placed my pen down and pondered a few seconds before I answer Max. “But, the MMR shot won’t help me. It just stops you from getting the German measles and I have already had that.”

He quickly response as though he found a solution to my blind eye issue.  “Would Tylenol Work?”

I placed my hand under my chin and rested it on the table. “To do what?”

“Would Tylenol make your eye better?”

“No.”

His puzzled expression warmed my heart. Then what will?”

I took a sigh before I responded.  “Nothing will make my eye better. ”

“But why?  The only way to get better, what do you have to do actually? 

My voice softened. “Well, there is nothing I can do.  It’s damaged, it’s broken.”

Max got up and placed his apron over the back of the chair.  “Is it like a window, a tree or a car?” 

“What do you mean like a window, tree or car?”

Max through his hands in the air.  “Do you have to leave it, like a window you have to leave it? What’s blinding mean?”

“The word blind means dark can’t see out of it.”

“Where is the German measles?  We need to take it out of you.  It may help you not to be blind.  Would you like that Mama? Are you made blind?”

“You see Max; each one of us is given a trial in life. Mine is having congenital rubella syndrome that has given me birth defects with, vision and hearing.  You were given Autism, but we both can still accomplish whatever are dreams are.  We both are awesome people.”

I guided Max to the restroom so he could brush his teeth before the bus came. “What do you mean?”

“Why were you made that way? What type of shots did they have when you were a baby?

"They didn’t have a lot of shots when I was a baby. "

"Were you crying a lot when you where a baby?”

“Yes.”

“When I was a baby did I open my eyes all the time?  Did I cry a lot when Malachi turned up the music really loud?  Did I cry like, waa, waa, like Preston?”

I tried to write this word by word of what Max said. 

"Santa comes to the rescue"

Max had a conversation with Malachi that was hilarious. 

“Malachi in a few years we will grow hair on our faces.  How much hair will we have on our faces, Malachi?”

“Buddy, I already have hair on my face?”

Max took another spoonful of cereal and exhaled.  “How many hairs do you have on your face?”

“I don’t know Max, I have never counted them.”

Max combed his fingers through his hair.  “I think I have a hundred hairs on my head.”

Malachi gave Max a smile. “If you had hundred hairs you would be bald.  I think you have thousands of hairs on your head.”

Max looked intently at Malachi’s hair.  “Oh, you too?”

 
Last Sunday on our way to church Max talked a mile a second.  One sentence stuck with me all last week and kept a smile on my face with sweetness attached. 

“Mom, Santa is going to help me get ready for Junior high.  He is going to give me five, ten, and one dollar bills for Christmas.  It’s going to help me be the best junior high student ever.”

A question worth answering.

"Mom, when you are near me, can you feel my spirit?"

"Yes Max, I feel your sweet spirit all the time and it makes me happy."

"What use are they?"

Before Max pulled open his pajama drawer, he placed his hands on his nipples. “Mom what are these called and what are they for?”  

I thought for a minute, before I responded of what definition I should use, breast, nipples.  Then I felt the best word to say. “It’s your chest.”  As I observed his expression, I realized it wasn’t enough of an answer.   He looked puzzled as he rubbed his hand over his chest.   “Mom is my chest a decoration?”

I pointed to his chest and gave each individual name for each part. He seemed happy, but wondered what use they are to him.  I think this topic was sparked, because of Max’s nephew being breastfed.

Lou vs. Max

I loved my conversation s with Max at the dining table.  He always has some new advice, story to tell or gives me insight to what really matters.  I wrote this word by word as he spoke. 

He looks at me as though he has all the answers to his future in the palm of his hand.

“Lou Gehrig’s mom, came from Germany.   I’m going to be a good baseball player like Lou—but I’m not going to get a disease like him until I’m 113.”

I continue to listen.

I’m imaging what I will be like if I was a baseball player right.  I would be happy if you show on my blog that I’m going to be a baseball player.  Baseball is my favorite. 

My mind wanted to ask him why and while he shoved a chip with homemade salsa in his mouth I ask.

“Why would you want to be a baseball player?”

Max took a gulp of his milk combined with crushed ice.  Then he raised his eyebrows.  “Because, baseball is fun.  Mom, I’m going to tell you something.  Lou Gehrig didn’t miss a day of school and he was the first to play with the # 4.”   The door bell rings and our conversation came to abrupt end.  

When I return to the kitchen Max was still enjoying corn chips and salsa.  He turned and with a serious look on his face.  “I know what is best for our family with money.  The only way we can get money is if I get a job or Dad gets a job.  Your choice mom.  Do you want me to be an actor and get a lot of money or do you want Dad to be an actor and get more money?  Or either we will have to get a lawyer. 

“Why Max?”

“You know why.”

“Okay, why Max?”

We aren’t in debt; we have fifty dollars or something.  I have been saving it. I want to play it forward and be a friend with everyone on the universe.

Control =Typical

Max and I had an interesting conversation the other day at Breakfast.

Max takes a sip of his milk.  “Is it easy to control me?

“Why do you think it’s easy to control you?”

Seconds before Max puts his cereal spoonful in his mouth. “Because, I can go.”

“You can what?

“Because…I’m almost typical.”

I look right into his eyes.  “Why do you say that?”

“Because.”

“But why?”

Max looks over at me then at his bowl of cereal.  “Hummm.”

“Why do you think that?”

He looks at me with a puzzled look.  “I don’t know.”

“So, what are you thinking about Max?”

Max jumps up and quickly runs away.  “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The secret about allergy shots.

While Max received his allergy shot he looked up at the nurse. "Will this shot make me smell good?"  Her eyes widen and her smile touched her ears. 

"It could."  Max walked away happy at his new finding.

Max asked, "Why do people have trees at their houses?" This question was asked about ten times on our way home from cub scouts. Max has been on this kick of asking me questions. Other questions he asked often ----"Why are there red lights on the back of cars?" "What is speech?" The sad part to all of this is he can't remember the answer after I respond to his question. Minutes will past and he will repeat the same question that he had asked five minutes ago. Max is fixated on his Lego's right now and seems to find joy in his star wars Lego's game.