0

20

It’s May and I get to cry about my little brother turning 20.

31646765_10156283477410030_4157660885218754560_nI was in Cyprus 2 weeks ago and everywhere I went people talked about how good he is, how handsome, how they miss him and how much they love him. You might think that me writing this is what makes the difference but it’s not. It’s all of my family and how they raised him, how they treat him, how they flaunt him and how much they love him. He has become someone people want to know, and want to know more about.

I took over his room while I was visiting. He didn’t barge into his room to wake me up before 8am even though I could hear him being awake from 7am. He didn’t tell me to fold my clothes, or pick up stuff off the floor of his room, even though the rest of the house had to be spotless. When I couldn’t find the honey – he showed me where it was. When I wanted to drink one of his juices he kissed me and gently took the juice away. When I wanted to watch something, he let me even though it was his time to watch cartoons. When I wanted to watch a DVD he set a time for me and him to watch it together, even though he has this thing about not watching DVDs unless the stars align.  He let me bite off bits of his food even though Christos doesn’t share food. He let me pinch his cheeks and chin repeatedly despite his sensory overload.  When we said goodbye at the airport he hugged me for one second longer, because he knew I would ask for it anyway. He knows I’m a guest and he lets me be one. He has allowed me to float in and out of his life for 10 years.

10 years.

I asked mum if she thought he knew I was his sister or whether he thought I was some girl who showed up 10 days a year to annoy him. She said I was crazy.

But I have lived in a different country for half his life. Yes, there are many things I can say to myself to make it sound ok but right now I am just a girl in a foreign land waiting for him to have another birthday – from which I’ll be absent.

So, I write a blog post instead of a card, I ask mum for pictures instead of skyping and I try even harder to be better. I think of the years I was there and how I was a part of his smiles, his laughter, his crying, his bedtime rituals, his repetitiveness, his speech therapy, his tantrums, his education, his homework, his first steps, his first words, his transition, his moves, his development. And I want, with all of my being, for that to be enough and for him to know that I am his sister.

20 is the theme of May but I don’t know why and I don’t know how I’m gonna pull it off. Let’s figure it out together.

In other, less gloomy, news it was an eventful Autism Awareness Month this year. Here are some interesting reads in case you missed them:

Advertisements
0

April 2018: 2 new facts

  1. In 2007, the Qatar representative to the UN, Her Highness Sheikha Mozah bint Nasser Al Missned,  put forward a UN General Assembly resolution, to create World Autism Awareness Day. This gave way to today, a day dedicated to raising awareness about ASD across the world.
  2. Numbers published by the World Health Organisation show that approx 1 in 160 children are diagnosed with autism. That suggests that of the 7.2 billion people living on Earth, approx 45 million are diagnosed. Plus the lost generation and women that never received a diagnosis due to a variety of factors.

45 million! Autism is no longer a hidden disability.

Autism awareness is not confined to this day, or to this month. We fight for it every day to help educate people on how to better understand autistic people and lessen the stigma and discrimination that autistic people face in every day life. Awareness means that the community can identify and respect the autism spectrum. Awareness means that the financial burden families have to bear may be lessened with proper access to support and by making autism education and alternative therapies a mainstream issue.

Welcome to autism awareness month.

29693374_10156190751625030_2116940918_o

0

The Sri Lanka Diaries: Proud Pereras

img_8176

Being back to life without Christos is harder than I thought.  The first couple of nights I kept waking up at 4.30 looking for him. This holiday was different because we depended on each other. Whatever he needed, I was the one he would come to. No back ups, no saying ‘yeah later’ and then never getting round to it. It was a surreal glimpse into our future.

I’ve written about the challenging parts of the holiday, now it’s time to go back to gushing over how great he is.

1. His routine: Christos works out his day in hours. So in the evenings, we would set out a plan for the next day hour by hour. For example:

  • 7.30 tea
  • 8am walk
  • 9am toast with jam and cheese (maybe chicken sausages)
  • 10am tennis/badminton
  • 11am go to the pool
  • 12.30pm shower
  • 1pm lunch (pasta with chicken or rice and curry)
  • 2pm game boy/or laptop (Shrek or The Road to El Dorado)
  • 3pm pool
  • 4.30pm shower
  • 5.20pm listen to music
  • 6pm tea/chocolate/fruit
  • 7pm listen to music
  • 8pm dinner (pasta with chicken or rice and curry)
  • 9pm bedtime

This wasn’t as rigid as it looks. For example, I could negotiate an extra half hour at the pool if he was in a good mood. Or we would skip the walk or the pool if it was raining. The night of the christmas gala dinner we stayed at the restaurant until 10.30pm! Also, if we were travelling the schedule looked different. He even let me explain to him how there are different times in different countries.

IMAGINE, trying to explain time zones to someone with onlyimg_8364 numbers and the words – dad, mum, Christos + Theodora, airplane, and (obviously) pasta.  I showed him the time in Colombo (dad), Doha (Christos + Theodora), Cyprus (mum) and explained that the airplane would take off and land in between. I wasn’t sure he got it, until we got to Doha and he asked me to change the time on my phone to the local time and did the same in Cyprus. I CAN’T EVEN.

 

2. His food: I’ve talked extensively about his eating habits on the blog and how far he has come from the days when mum had to pack a bunsen burner to take to the Maldives. He ate all sorts of chicken, and all sorts of rice and all sorts of pasta and sauces. He had a variety of options and made his mind up quite quickly. It didn’t bother him that it wasn’t always the same rice, and he never went for white. It didn’t bother him that the chicken was curry, or jamaican, or spicy, or salty, or lemony. He ate what was there, what caught his eye and was willing to switch in between. The chefs were on standby to make him something special, but we never needed to. In fact, all the staff were at his beck and call. I am so grateful to all the great people at Amaya Lake for their kindness; I wrote a review for them here.

3. Packing: He is the best at packing. I’m okay at packing – dad is not great (sorry daddy). Every time I lost something, Christos knew where it was. Every time I was packing he would bring me things I would have DEFINITELY forgotten. He is in his element – bossing us around and organising. Thanks to him, we went back home with all the things we had taken with us.

4. Compassion: While in Sri Lanka my aunty had a bad fall and had to be operated on. When we got to the house it was 5-6pm and Christos had warned me that he wanted chicken nuggets that night for dinner at 8pm. But: Which ones? Breadcrumbs or batter? Smooth or bitty? SPICY OR REGULAR? Or maybe a little img_8415bit spicy? Point is, it wouldn’t be the chicken nuggets he’s thinking of. I obviously always say okay and figure out the rest later. When we got there, it was obvious that we needed to make sure our aunty was okay first. Dad was mega stressed and there were millions of things he had to sort out and think about. Nuggets were not a priority. Christos played with his game boy from 5pm to 8pm that day. Why? Because he knew something was off. He knew the schedule was off. He didn’t ask to listen to music, or anything. He just played his game boy and stayed out of our way. We had pasta that night for dinner and it was okay. That was our proudest moment of the whole trip.

5: Affection: He was constantly holding my hand, giving me kisses, looking out for me. When I had a tummy ache, when I had a headache, when I was stressed – he was there for me. It was hard going back to Cyprus because his priorities changed. He was home. That meant he had our mum and nan who take care of him every day, all day. He didn’t need me anymore. Kisses were rushed, and cuddles were cut back to only when necessary. It really, really hurt. But! Let’s be real, he sees me 10 days a year. At the end of the day, I was only there for him for 13 days so obviously I’m not number one. I’m probably top 5. I hope I’m top 5.

This holiday meant so much to the three of us. There’s so much I’d like to tell you, but I can’t express it in words. This holiday was a feeling. When I think back to those 13 days, I feel a weight on my chest, it makes me cry, it makes me grin ear to ear and it makes me proud.

1

Friendship

Friends are a funny concept aren’t they? You meet this stranger and you’re like “You. I want to do random things with you forever. I want to share my life with you. I wanna tell you all the stupid things I think of.”

I have three friends that I have known most of my life, and whom I adore beyond measure. These girls are the girls that cry with me when I talk to them about Christo, they get mad with me when I tell them a member of my family was mistreated, they laugh when I tell them I fell over, and check on me and my family when one of us is unwell.  These are the girls I don’t talk to every day but I would run to if they needed me. I love them with the kind of love you love your own. I love them because they love my family with a love you haven’t experienced before, and vice versa. One of them helped with #Project324 last year (you know its you papaokori). One of them makes me laugh like there’s no tomorrow and is my soulmate.

My point is that these people are embedded into my soul and they love my brother as much as i do. I want to tell you about something extraordinary one of them is accomplishing today. She currently holds 3 Guinness Records:

  1. The Longest time in an abdominal plank position (female) is 3 hours, 31 minutes and 0 seconds
  2. The Longest time in an abdominal plank position (female) with 60pounds on her back is 23 minutes and 20 seconds
  3. Most handstand pushups in 1 minute is 35 pushups in 31 seconds

These 3 records she broke to prove to the world that you can do anything you set your mind to, despite all odds.

Today, 21st July 2017, she is attempting to break another World Guinness Record. This time she’s doing it for a little girl called Stavriana. She will be attempting to break the record of 1206 knuckle push ups to 1300 knuckle push ups in 1 hour.  Stavriana suffers from Cornelia de Lange syndrome and Crohn’s desease. She is only 7 years old. She is the youngest of 5 siblings, all under 18, and is being raised by a single mother. She is in pain every day and the money is being raised to enable her to travel to Israel for an operation that will make life a bit easier for her and her family. The aim is 50,000 euros. You can donate through paypal at https://www.paypal.me/helpstavri

20217241_1799824326700146_12291763_n-1

I could write pages about how inspiring this woman is. But I will never be able to  tell you how she makes me feel. This girl is magic. People around her love her because of how unapologetically she loves people.

She has overcome medical predictions and countless hardships in life. Yet, she is always the one giving. She is always the wise one, the funny one, the one you go to. The brave one.

I know that our town, our island will embrace you and Stavriana today. I know that they will give, and make you proud. I know you won’t expect the love you will be suffocated with today. I also know that no one deserves this more than you.

No good luck needed. I’m with you,  my sister.

0

When Will We Learn?

I’m not going to write about the atrocity that was the US Election – here’s what i felt a year ago #Project324 Trump, Republicans and Disabilities, oh my.

I’m going to write about hope, the future. I’m going to remind you that you can change things, that you need to be strong in the face of racism, discrimination and unfairness. I’m going to ask you to take action, to not let this perversion become our legacy. I’m going to ask you to think about what world you want our kids to grow up in and what we can do right now to make sure they do.

Ambitious about Autism is an organisation i work with, they’ve put on projects like: #EmployMe for which I wrote –  What happens when you turn 18? UN International Day of Families for which I wrote – A letter to my autistic brother on his 18th birthday . Fun fact – I wrote this in 15 minutes and cried the whole way through, I haven’t read this since it’s been published. Maybe fun isn’t the word for it. Autism Friendly – Ambitious about Autism supported a London-based restaurant in winning the first of the National Autistic Society’s Autism Friendly Awards. Making the world Autism-Friendly Back to School – School Bells

Their latest is called #WhenWillWeLearn. The ambition is to make the ordinary possible for children and young people with autism. They provide services at schools and colleges, raise awareness and understanding and campaign for change. 

And they don’t give up. Their campaign asks you to write to your MP (if you are in the UK). Those of you outside the UK can write to your local authority, or you can write to me – I would love to forward your letter to our MPs, because it doesn’t matter where you live. A small change can resonate around the world – that’s the beauty of awareness, it doesn’t have borders. Sign up to show your support: ambitiousaboutautism.org.uk/pledge-your-support or email me.

The campaign highlights that:
80% of children with autism experience anxiety every day about attending school;
45% had been illegally denied their right to a full education;
Over 1000 parents are forced to take legal action every year to get the support their child is entitled to;
42% of classroom teachers say their training doesn’t prepare them to meet the needs of children with autism; I wrote about this here.

So, please don’t give up. Because we have made a difference already; businesses introducing schemes to train people on the spectrum like Ford, Apple, Microsoft etc; stores introducing quiet hour to accommodate autism; TV shows are introducing characters on the spectrum; theatres/cinemas are catering for autistic youth; ‘neurodiversity’ is an official term and it’s all because of all of you, reading about autism and not giving up.

15007644_10154605350205030_2088488013_oI traveled to Venice on the 3rd November and, incidentally, it was also the day that Gatwick became an Autism Friendly airport. A ceremony was held but I didn’t know about it until later when i was stuffing my face with gelato and thinking about how much Christo would love it. The airport was presented with an award by the Chief Executive of the National Autistic Society to mark the achievement. Gatwick met a range of Autism Friendly criteria to help passengers, their families and carers, it has been praised for providing clear and accessible information for passengers about the airport and the assistance available to help plan for their journey. Staff have been specially trained to help assist autistic passengers and a hidden disability lanyard system has been put in place. HOW EXCITING. I wrote about Chris at the airport here. I know, I’ve referred to my own writings a lot in this post but it just goes to show that the information is everywhere, and it’s only a click away. So, click.

It’s up to us – we have to do this, we have to write, speak, call, email, visit, shout about all the things we want and by doing it for our own, we are doing it for everyone; one step at a time. Now, more than ever, we need to unite. We need to be one and we need to make our voices heard, because they did – so why can’t we? Now more than ever, we should recognise the power or the people. Because it was people that did this, and it will be people that change it.

1

The end of Chapter 3

Earlier this week I found out that i have finally passed my Legal Practice Course; an LPC is the vocational stage of training to be a solicitor that must be taken after completing a law degree and before practicing. This means that after 8 years of being a law student, I am done. I was trying to describe to my friends how happy I was to receive the news and I couldn’t find words.

If you are a regular reader, you know that this was part of my life plan. I moved away from home, I’ve been studying since 2008 and working alongside my studies to set down the cornerstones of the life Christos will have to join eventually. This last month has been a tough one. My nan was in hospital for 3 weeks. My nan, or my 75137_10150101622680030_3087748_nyiayia, is a 2-time cancer survivor, she’s worked since she was 14 and she raised us all with such love. She loves a good sing-along, a western cowboy film, she knows how to throw a good party, she loves a good beer with her lunch and a whiskey on special occasions. She looks amazing; i know I’m biased but look at her! She always takes care of herself even though she worked 16-hour days, she never said no to a customer or an ill aunt, she was never too tired to run around after her grandchildren and I’m so proud of her – I used to borrow my yiaya’s jewelry and shoes, that’s how cool my yiayia is. She’s one tough cookie. I love my yiayia, she makes the best food, the best tea, toast and jam, she makes the best cakes (she owned a confectionery), she cries every time we speak and she rubs my feet even though hers are way more tired. I love my yiayia the most though because of how she treats Christo. I talk a lot about how our family felt after the diagnosis but my nan and granddad were right there with us. They went through all the emotions, all the ups and downs. They picked us up from school, babysat, they took Christo to speech therapy, to the oxygen chamber appointments, they watched the Lion King a thousand times, they picked up after  a tantrum, they always had a stash of calming treats, they stopped singing because he doesn’t like it and they never gave up on him. She has been a support to us and to Christo for as long as he has been with us. She knows his language, his schedule and how to bribe him for kisses and hugs. Christo knows he has to respect her, he knows which buttons to push and he knows that every time he says ‘yiayia’ she is ready to give him the world. I love the way they love him because it looks like the way i love him. It’s my only consolation, knowing he is loved that much every day I am not there.

By completing the course, I’ve ticked off a big box on my preparation list for our future. It’s something I have been working on for years, it’s the one thing I’ve worked so hard on, it’s what i will base the rest of my life on. And it’s done, it’s just there now waiting to be built on – waiting for me.

The end of the LPC is the end of the first big chapter in my life. 2 years of 4000 words every 10 days, 17 exams, sleepless nights, lots of wine, and lots of tears and it’s over. I breathe a sigh of relief before I move on, i take a moment to leave this behind and digest what it all means. In my head, everything i did was a step closer to the end game – the LPC was about 150,000 steps. I can look at my brother now with confidence, with certainty that we are going to be okay. I like to think that if he knew he would be proud, I like to think that deep down he knows. I can look back to when I left him to study in Lancaster and not be struck down by guilt; because after 8 years i did what i left him for. I think of all the birthdays i missed, all the tantrums, all the times he needed me and even though i can never go back and be there, it wasn’t all in vain.

Stay tuned for Chapter 4 of Life with the Pereras.

0

School bells

Memories.

I have recently become more aware of the fact that i have blocked large chunks of my childhood and school life from my memory. There are things I don’t want to remember so at some point in my adult life i decided to put all those years in a black box and bury it somewhere. Unfortunately, that means that I also buried a lot of Chris’ early years, so many fun times with so many good friends that I only remember when they remind me. Even then, it’s like a dream, like it never happened to me. In primary school, i was bullied for the majority of my time there. All I remember is being super in (puppy) love with a boy, a doll house on my f74945_10152065431390030_291941620_nirst day, my favourite teacher and lots and lots of tears. I was bullied because i am not white; even though everyone in Cyprus is tanned. I was thrown down stairs, spat on, thrown in holes, in SKIP bins and verbally abused almost daily; I have scars on my knees, arms and face to this day. In high school the abuse settled and I made friends that I have to this day. Life at home was not great and I don’t remember most of those years either. I have a tattoo and a piercing to reassure me that i did go through a rebellious phase. I don’t remember what people thought about me, who wanted to be my friend and who didn’t. I don’t remember feeling like an outcast or being popular. I don’t know who i had lunch with every day. I know i had people that loved me, and that’s so enough, and so comforting.

I read this recently.

Several times lately I have tried to remember my time in middle school, did I like all my teachers, do I even remember them? Did I have many friends? Did I sit with anyone at lunch? Just how mean were kids really? I remember one kid on the bus called me “Tammy Fay Baker” bc I started awkwardly wearing eye liner in the sixth grade, I remember being tough and calling him a silly name back, but when he couldn’t see me anymore I cried. I do remember middle school being scary, and hard. Now that I have a child starting middle school, I have feelings of anxiety for him, and they can be overwhelming if I let them. Sometimes I’m grateful for his autism. That may sound like a terrible thing to say, but in some ways I think, I hope, it shields him. He doesn’t seem to notice when people stare at him when he flaps his hands. He doesn’t seem to notice that he doesn’t get invited to birthday parties anymore. And he doesn’t seem to mind if he eats lunch alone. It’s one of my daily questions for him. Was there a time today you felt sad? Who did you eat lunch with today? Sometimes the answer is a classmate, but most days it’s nobody. Those are the days I feel sad for him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He is a super sweet child, who always has a smile and hug for everyone he meets. A friend of mine sent this beautiful picture to me today and when I saw it with the caption “Travis Rudolph is eating lunch with your son” I replied “who is that?” He said “FSU football player”, then I had tears streaming down my face. Travis Rudolph, a wide receiver at Florida State, and several other FSU players visited my sons school today. I’m not sure what exactly made this incredibly kind man share a lunch table with my son, but I’m happy to say that it will not soon be forgotten. This is one day I didn’t have to worry if my sweet boy ate lunch alone, because he sat across from someone who is a hero in many eyes. Travis Rudolph thank you so much, you made this momma exceedingly happy, and have made us fans for life!

Leah Paske – Bo’s momma

School is.. an experience. Some of us forget, some of us grow out of it, some despair and some thrive. We were all insecure, we all had self esteem issues, we all wanted company. How much easier would high school be if we just didn’t care though? If we didn’t shield ourselves, change our habits and go over and over every single word, pause and comma we used throughout the day? Some may say it’s because they don’t understand; that’s not true. Chris understands so much more than we give him credit for. Our kids are free, they are untouched by the weight of fitting in. Their spirit is unspoiled.  They get to be themselves without the fear of judgement. They can sit and have lunch alone without a care in the world, without trying to impress. I’ve talked about this before; the things we worry about are reflections of how much we are affected by the standards imposed on us by our community. We worry when they play alone, when they don’t get invited to parties, when people stare. We worry because we don’t understand what it’s like to live life without constantly trying to fit in.

I’m grateful for his autism too Leah. I am thankful i get to look up to a boy who is completely, carelessly and overwhelming okay with just being himself.

For the first day (back) at school if your kid has autism:

  • Dress them in their favourite clothes. If they have a uniform (get it from M&S) do a couple of trial runs before the first day so that if there’s anything uncomfortable you can sort it out before.
  • Pack their bag with them. They should know what’s in there and they should have a say in what’s in there. Make sure it’s stuff they have used before and it’s not all new and shiny.
  • Take them for walks around school (if you haven’t already) to familiarise them with the area. If you can meet teachers before hand – even better! Take the backpack with you, with lunch and maybe even wear the uniform. This way they know it all goes together.
  • Make sure the teacher knows how to handle questions, and that you are available to talk to the classmates about autism. Pretending like autism is not there is not the solution, it’s not acceptance.
  • If they have stimming toys, pack them.
  • Do a trial run of the early wake up.
  • Make a schedule and sit down and go over it with them.
  • Don’t make it a big deal. I mean, it’s the biggest deal EVER, but don’t create expectations they have to live up to.

If your kid doesn’t have autism talk to them about it. Chances are, they will come across someone on the spectrum during their education and you have to be able to answer questions. Learn about autism, educate yourselves, your children, your family. School doesn’t teach us everything, so be proactive, be positive, be generous and be inclusive. By teaching your kid about autism you are making someones school year bearable and you will make an autism family’s life just a little bit better.