Mall Santa

The other night we took advantage of a no-longer-so-unusual luxury -- an evening with no special plans. We decided to go to a local mall and see a display of gingerbread houses. As we bundled up, I remembered that this mall had advertised a take-your-own-photos Santa, so I slipped a camera into my purse, even though a Santa sitting would be a major departure for both girls. (See Here Comes Santa Claus from December 2008 for the backstory on why.)

I think that Joy maybe actually looked at the gingerbread creations this year, a new development. She was more interested, however, in peering into the shops and looking up for ceiling fans. Each time she found one, she made sure to tell us: fan! OK, actually she kind of leaves off the "n"... but did you catch that? She actually told us!

We spent quite a few minutes hunkered down in front of one particular store window, where there were two mechanical toys. One was a skating rink where little figurines circled the ice in pre-ordained patterns; the other was a sledding hill on which the same two sleds appeared again and again and again. Though we've never owned any such thing, these toys were like old friends -- they appear on the Baby Bach Baby Einstein video, one of the first Baby Einsteins we acquired when Rose was a wee thing! Long, long we sat and watched, with occasional glances up at the store ceiling, where spun (oh bliss, oh Joy!) a ceiling fan.


The Santa-sitting mishaps of Rose's early years in the aforementioned post happened at this very mall as well, but all these years later they now have a different Santa and a different setup. He was sitting out in the open, next to a 20-foot-high gingerbread house, all twinkly and smiling with a small bench at his knee where children could pose rather than actually having to climb into his lap. Not a soul in line, we could walk right up to him! Rose put on a mild pre-teen-ish protest, too old for all this, but to my surprise she then actually sat on the little bench and pasted on a smile for the photo, earning herself a little candy cane and coloring book.

Then it was Joy's turn, the girl with whom we had never even attempted a Santa visit. The girl who has two new relevant words that she didn't have before -- "Picture," at which she will sometimes actually mug for the camera, and "Santa" which is very familiar from the Baby Santa Baby Einstein video (and also sounds like "panda" which is one of the funniest words in the world.)

So we said "Santa" and she sat on the bench! We said "picture" and she looked at the camera! And she smiled!

And just as JoyDad was taking the shot, she opened her mouth wide and lifted one finger to point out where she'd lost a tooth earlier that day.

Her middle finger.

I guess there's always next year. Ho, ho, ho!

Christmas in July

I recently read a very cool article in the latest issue of the Autism Advocate from the Autism Society of America: Santa-America and Autism Society Launch Affiliation.

Santa-America is a volunteer organization with a special mission:

Over 100 Santas from 44 states and six foreign countries visit children and families in crisis. Santa Claus visits when a child or family needs him—12 months a year—bringing love, hope and joy to special-needs children in a loving one-hour visit at home, hospital or hospice. Santa's visits are free; there is no charge for a visit from Santa Claus—ever.

The new partnership with the ASA started out with an event in Kansas City this past Christmas:

The settings were scheduled with 3-5 families during a 30-minute period. Children waiting to see Santa were able to watch a Christmas video or play in the play area of the club house. When it was their turn, each family was taken into a private room next to a cozy fireplace to meet and talk with Santa. Santa’s “book of good boys and girls” included a page for each child, listing their birthdays, friends, teachers and what they had said they wanted for Christmas. Most important, families knew that everyone there would be accepting of any behavioral differences their children might have.

Well, that just 'bout brings tears to my eyes! What a spectacular accommodation for families who want to share the magic of Santa with their spectrum kiddos, highly personalized and without the mall meltdown triggers.

Ernest Berger, president of Santa-America, summed it up neatly:

All our love is focused on giving our children an inclusive and joyful experience.

That sounds... like some amazing bloggy parents I know.

A Merry Little Christmas

There have been some lovely posts lately on a Christmas Carol theme, specifically the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and yet to come:
Ghosts of Christmases Past at Diary of a Mom, and Ghosts of the Season at Maternal Instincts were two that particularly struck me.

I've been reflecting on Christmas comparisons, Christmas progress, Christmas forecasts as well.

Christmas 2006 was a rough one. We'd just had Joy's autism diagnosis days before Christmas, and had not yet comprehended the dimensions of the regression she'd been experiencing. She was also having seizures, not too disruptive yet but definitely there. That holiday had some elements of shell-shock.

Christmas 2007 wasn't a piece of cake either. That year the seizures were in full swing, and Joy wasn't feeling well at all. The traditional family visit to AuntieS' place was one big meltdown. And then a whole bunch of switches flipped all at once (i.e. another regression) right about at Christmas, and the next few months were some of the roughest we've had yet.

This year? We had a lovely quiet Christmas. The seizures have been on hiatus since mid-September (touch/knock wood!) Not even really on the radar screen right now, which feels very nice.

While the seizures don't have me on edge, the whole regression thing does, seeing as how it's happened twice in a row at this time of year. So far, though, there's nothing in particular to point to. (More touch/knock on the computer desk, or my own forehead...)

We'd hoped to go party with the extended JoyDad family at AuntieS' on Christmas Eve per usual, and even got into the car and drove for an hour, but there was blowing snow across the highway and lots of slow travel and cars in the ditch, and we eventually turned around. A shame to have missed it, but we're hoping to see most everyone tomorrow night if the weather doesn't get in the way again...

We let the girls open one present each on Christmas Eve since they didn't get their extended-family presents. Then they climbed into their brand-new matching footie-jammies and settled down for a long winter's nap.

Christmas morning brought giggles and grins and a lovely pile of presents, though not so many that we couldn't open them one by one, to savor each in its turn.


Joy's favorite present, hands down, was the accordion tube in her stocking, that makes noises when you squish it open and closed.


The My Little Pony was also a hit due to its lovely stimmy mane & tail. And then there was all the tissue paper, and one shiny ribbon in particular. She didn't really get the whole present-opening thing, but was willing to play along and pull and tear paper when encouraged. The aforementioned presents and trimmings kept her happily occupied pretty much all morning.

Rose was thrilled with her new My Little Pony too (the pony's name is Snow-El, I kid you not!) She also liked her new Children's Dictionary, and the old digital camera that we handed down to her since Santa brought us a new one. She spent lots of time posing the ponies -- Snow-El is the white one with the halo:


A highlight for JoyDad was a collection of 8x10 photos from the lake up north, with a promise of post-Christmas framing. For me, I got footie-jammies too! And then there was this mask that Rose made for me:


Christmas Day passed at a leisurely pace. Rose and I baked zwieback, a traditional double-decker yeast bun (the link is to a blog called Mennonite Girls Can Cook!!)


As darkness fell in the late afternoon, we all ventured out by car to drive through an elaborate display of holiday lights that appears each year in one of the local parks. And after dinner, we actually built a fire! In the fireplace! And Joy was laid-back enough to keep out of the way, with only a little additional monitoring!

I've got a lot of questions for Christmases yet to come. At what point will receiving and opening gifts actually become a joy for Joy? When and how to involve her in the giving of gifts? Will the whole Santa thing ever make enough sense at all to explain? Or more profoundly, the newborn baby in the manger, God on earth among us?

But all in all, this has been a merry little Christmas so far, with more family treats yet to come.

God bless us, every one.

Santa 1963

So remember how I said that my family never did the photo-on-Santa's-lap thing?

JoyDad's family was a different story.


He's on the right of the photo, on the lap of none other than Auntie RatK. What an adorable family, huh?! (Older not-yet-aliased brother on the left, Auntie RatM and Uncle DO had not yet arrived.)

I've enjoyed learning about JoyDad's family's holiday traditions. Like lutefisk. And the traditional holiday cheer that is memorialized every year on their Christmas home videos, the Glögg! I've yet to find a recipe that involves as many bottles as seem to appear on the videos, but I'm here to tell you, it's some amazing stuff. I have it on good authority (cough, Auntie RatK, ahem) that the fumes alone as the Glögg simmered on the stove could cause a state of elevation.

The holiday fumes in my own extended family had more to do with the simmering of dried green beans (I found a recipe that calls the dish Leather Britches, tee hee!) I guess there's a parallel to lutefisk, in that it's an old-fashioned method of preserving food that is now really only used for the sake of tradition. I've done it myself, though, from scratch, all the way from growing the beans in my own garden. Traditions must be preserved, no?

Lots of fun traditions, this time of year!

Here Comes Santa Claus

I was struck by a post over at Autism Vox earlier this week, called Santa Can Wait, in which Kristina mulls over the fact that her pre-teen son Charlie has never sat on Santa's lap. Malls were potential meltdown triggers, and her son never did "get into" imaginary characters. Besides, she reminds herself, she'd just have to eventually reveal that Santa is really Mom & Dad anyway...

Well, Joy has never sat on Santa's lap either. Come to think of it, I'm not sure I ever did myself, until I was an adult (and I don't believe there's any photographic evidence of that occasion, probably just as well.)

In my case, it just wasn't the family tradition. In Joy's case, the busy-ness of the mall isn't the issue, nor is particularly problematic for her to go snuggle with a stranger (yipe). I think she did get a visit from Santa at daycare one year, in fact.

Alas, the reason that Joy has never sat on Santa's lap can be directly traced to her sister.

Here's what happened on our first attempt to take Rose to see the mall Santa, at the age of 10 months:


The next year we discussed it, and she seemed to have at least an interest in Santa-visiting, though she asserted, "I don't like his ho-ho-ho!" So we got her all dressed up, and went to the mall to be early in line when Santa was to arrive. She waited with minimal twitching and fuss, right up until she heard him walking down the mall, jingling his bells, and (of course) booming a jolly "Ho, ho, ho!" Meltdown before he even got seated. We stepped out of line and made our escape. After she calmed down I got her to pose with a much less threatening Santa statue further down the mall, only four feet tall:


So that's why we never went back, and it hardly seemed worth it to take just Joy.

Interesting wrinkle this year: back in November, Rose decided to write a letter to Santa. She carefully wrote out a few modest requests, including a request or two on Joy's behalf. Then she folded it up, wrote out the envelope to Santa at the North Pole, carefully including her real return address as she'd learned in school. I almost didn't post it... but then rather thought that there'd been enough prevarications about the whole Santa thing, and wanted to tell the truth that yes, Rose, I actually did mail it for real.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and Rose puts the pieces together. Santa's not real, is he? Mom and Dad stuff the stockings (and eat the cookies, and drink the milk, and consume Rudolph's carrot!) When she asked it straight out, we copped to the truth. But when we asked if she still wanted to play the game, she absolutely wanted to get her stocking filled. Quick on the uptake, this girl!

Fast forward again to yesterday, and Rose gets a letter in the mail. Return address: Santa Claus, North Pole. And inside is a computer-printed poem from Santa about how he'll try to make her Christmas happy, but she has to promise to be good! And then there was a handwritten "Santa" signature, and one-sentence postscript about how nice it was that she included her sister in the letter...

I wish I knew what was going through her head about this whole thing! We didn't point out the hometown postmark. But it's pretty clear that Mom & Dad didn't write the letter. We were too obviously gobsmacked when it arrived!

Meanwhile, Joy too has received a lovely pre-Christmas surprise, in her case from one of the members of her large circle of support:


The photo doesn't do it justice! It's a little shadowbox that she hand-decorated for Joy, with a bunny in the "box" part (referring to our pet bunnies) and the "Joy" at the top and a tiny rose on the heart in the lower left corner in honor of the big sister.

Thank you, Santa, so very much!