Yeah! It bloomed. Isn’t that the most delightful thing you’ve ever seen. Flowers growing out of nothing but cement and whatever else is up there. It made me smile and suddenly merging into the afternoon traffic wasn’t  such a chore, with that cheery image filling my thoughts.

Last week we went down to Portland with Matthew for Bike First, and after four days of camp, he had yet to ride a bike. We drove over to Concordia University the last morning, Friday, with heavy hearts, because we all wanted him to succeed and I didn’t want to think that I had invested so much time and money and effort for nothing. Sometimes it is so hard when you have a child with disabilities, making those decisions on what to invest in for his future.

Stopping at Starbucks, I went to get a coffee, a little fortification, and inside was an older man who obviously had disabilities. And he’d come in with his bike and was telling one and all about how much he loved to ride and how he loved his bike.The sight of him brought tears to my eyes, because I felt it was like a giant hand came down and tapped me on the shoulder and said, “See! See that! You made the right choice.”

Then the barista asked the man if he wanted “his usual.” Apparently this fellow with his bike is a regular, and he laughed and said “yes.” Then came the unexpected. You see, the universe wasn’t done with me yet.

The man pulled out a packet of Swiss Miss, and the barista mixed it up for him. This man rides his bike to Starbucks every day so he can have his Swiss Miss. The barista laughed, the pair shared a corny joke and the man sat down with his bike to enjoy his cocoa.

Because you see the unexpected also comes in gentle compassion, understanding and faith.

As for Matthew, about an hour and a half later, he was riding on his own all around the tennis courts of Concordia University. And when the morning was done, he got his picture taken with the Bike First graduates, along with the wonderful volunteers who share that same beautiful generosity I’d witnessed over a cup of cocoa.

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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We met Jessica about seven years ago, when Matthew was a baby. He’d run through just about every babysitter I could find. He was one tough baby. He even sent the neighborhood’s alleged “baby whisperer” into a two hour crying jag. The babysitter. Not Matthew. Well, Matthew too, because he had horrible colic. And he was a fussy baby. And he wasn’t a baby for an amatuer. Then I got a lead on a 14 year old babysitter who was supposed to be “the best.”

This is the part where I cry. Because from the moment Jessica walked into our house, she walked into our hearts. Do you see this sunny, gorgeous smile? It has never changed. She has been an important and indispensable part of the kids’ lives ever since. The boys love Jessica. They even named their favorite playground after her. Jessica Park. Because it was the place she would take them to play. She’s watched the boys grow up and we’ve watched her grow up.

And Matthew’s autism has never been an issue to Jessica. She has managed to see through his challenges and discover the child inside. Unlocking ways to engage him, talk with him and keep him toeing the line. I remember the first time we used someone other than Jessica and Matthew walked up to this poor girl and gave her this sideways evil eye glance and then looked at me like, “That’s not her!” No. No one is.

So let’s fast forward. Jessica is now a teacher. Yes, at 21. She’s the hardest working, most determined young lady you will ever meet. She took Running Start classes to finish two years of college as she finished high school, and then went to college and finished, again, in record time. When I had to drop Matthew off last year at a new school to start with a new teacher, in a temporary building that was just decrepit, I left that school in tears. Until I got in my car and there was a text message on my phone. I’m here. I’ll watch over him. Because Jessica decided to do her student teaching at Matthew’s school and she’d watched me leave.

This year she began teaching full time, an ESL classes filled to the brim with K-3 kids.  And on occasion, we can still entice to come over for an evening with “her boys.” But mostly we all just love to see her. To me, she’s the daughter I will never have. To the kids, well . . .

Once Terry said to me, “she’s as much a mom to them as you are.” Some women might find that statement unsettling or threatening. Not me. I smiled and said a prayer to heaven thanking God that he sent such a blessing into our lives. Everyone should have a Jessica to brighten their lives.

And so, a book about finding light in our lives is dedicated to my dear friend, Jessica Burtt.

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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Yes, a loaner dog. I knew I could crack both my problems with just a little help. And as it always is with life, when you need something . . . a week ago a friend asked me to look after her dog for a few days.  Of course I jumped on the chance and said “yes.” So meet the best dog alive. Olive. She’s mellow, happy and loves, I mean ADORES kids. I hear the walls falling all around us. I mean who could resist such a sweet face?!

I have a feeling there will be four sad people on Saturday when goes home, but I’m pretty sure I’ll have won all the arguments by then.

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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I have to live ideas for months and sometimes years, before they even get to the front of the queue and then they have a good six to nine months of nagging at me to sit my butt down and work. Yes, work. At times banging my head against the keyboard because the words won’t come, and other times against the walls when others get the bonuses or perks that I want, yet they seem to get with very little effort on their part.

Impatience has a way of coloring your gaze with jealously.

But over the last few years I’ve found that I have more patience than I thought I did. Or maybe I’ve learned how to live with patience. Or I’ve come to “a-hem” a certain age where patience is a little more embraceable. The funny thing is, that when you go along with the notion of being patient, of waiting, of letting life run its course and the right path will open up for you, one step at a time, the world moves along at a much smoother pace. A lot less wall banging.

I suppose one thing that taught me this is knitting. Yes, knitting. Talk about the ultimate craft in patience. A sweater is knit one stitch at a time. Take a look at a sweater and imagine how many stitches go into that. Knit one at a time, over and over again. This is the second part of patience–the faith part of it. That if you take that one stitch at a time, write one page at a time, with each step you are closer to finishing. The other day I picked up a sock I had set down last fall and hadn’t finished. I had forgotten how to turn the heel–which is the part of knitting that makes that pocket for your heel and turns the sock that 90 degrees you need to go. Now my problem was that I tried to do it at 10 at night. After several frustrating attempts and some really bad knitting, I nearly tossed the entire thing in the garbage. Instead, the next day, I sat down at the table, with instructions right in front of me, a latte at my side and turned that darn heel. One stitch at a time.

Matthew’s autism has probably also had a hand in getting me to this place. We spend months on waiting lists for services. We spent so much time on one list, by the time his name came to the top for help, he was too old for the program. But on the other hand, as I look over the past five years that we’ve been coping with this issue, that when that call comes, that slot becomes available, it is the right time for him to have those services. The right TA, like our beloved Kelsey, or an awesome teacher, like his Mr. Perkins, comes into our life and helps bring Matthew one step at a time out of the isolation that autism is.

Patience is faith. Faith that our footsteps are being guided and that what we really need (as opposed to what we jump through hoops and run in circles convinced that we need) will be there when we can put it to best use.

What have you been avoiding? What are you impatiently waiting for, yet never seems to happen? What steps, rather than leaps, will get you there?

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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So here is Joey:

Dear Elizabeth,

There is a link on the Autism Speaks website that very eloquently states, “Why We Walk.” It talks about accelerating the pace and progress of autism research. About the sense of hope and determinedness at the Walk events. That the sheer force of combined passion, commitment, and numbers will move the field forward to find effective treatments and a cure for autism. It’s really a beautiful statement. And I agree that it is a great reason to raise money and walk at events like the one we joined in Detroit.

Why do I walk?

I don’t know too much about your little guy, but when Gabriel was two he could say about 5 meaningful words. He had tons of words, but they were all labeling or echoic. In May 2006, he was finally diagnosed with high-functioning autism. At 2.5 years old, he was labeling, but not speaking meaningfully. He did not point or wave and had fleeting eye contact at best.

There was no one there after the diagnosis to tell us what to do or where to go to find services for our son. We heard about how important early intervention was, but had trouble navigating the maze of services. Only because of my mother’s 36 years in social work did we learn about the services available through our county. The resources in Toledo were—and still are—scarce.

We discovered Applied Behavior Analysis and PLAY/Floortime therapies shortly before Gabriel was diagnosed. We immediately set up an ABA/Play program in our home. It was a tough road but he quickly made amazing strides. A whine became “Up! Down! Milk!”

In November, I attended an ABA seminar. Shortly after, Gabriel and I began an intensive parent/child ABA training program. The program was called GIFT of Hope and was 5 days a week, 3 hours a day (plus homework!) and a three hour round trip!

I remember calling my mother in tears after the third day of the program. Gabriel had a full-blown tantrum that lasted 28 minutes! But when he graduated from the program I distinctly remember the feeling of empowerment. The tantrums and other behaviors had greatly diminished and I now knew how to work with my son. I could use relaxation techniques and other behavioral interventions to combat or prevent tantrums. And Gabriel learned how to communicate his wants and needs effectively and his language and social skills were increasing daily!

In March, shortly after our graduation from GIFT of Hope, my husband, Garett, handed Gabriel a sippy-cup full of chocolate soymilk. Gabriel grabbed it and headed on his hoppy-skippy way. And I remember this part so vividly. Something made him stop in his tracks. He turned back to Garett, looked at the milk sloshing up the sides of the cup and then into his Dad’s eyes and asked, “Where’s the lid?” After the tears—there were a lot, but they were happy!—we joked then that we should put the phrase on a T-shirt.

I walk because I want to share Gabe’s story. And it’s not over. Through countless hours of therapy, loads of debt and an altered diet, he is doing remarkably well. He is in a typical pre-school, has friends and talks—literally—non-stop. I hope others will learn from or find comfort in Gabriel’s journey. That’s why I wrote to you when I read your dedication. We need to share our stories and support those who put themselves out there. You made me feel empowered gave me a bigger voice. Most of all, I found comfort in the story of a new friend.

We have received several donations from your fans. I want to thank them personally, but I don’t have access to their email addresses even though they sent money to our page! Please let them know they made our voices even stronger! The Detroit “Walk Now for Autism” event had over 7000 walkers and raised over $520,000. I have added a picture of our team. My husband, Garett, and I are on the ground with Gray and Gabe is behind me with our “Jessica”, Becca.

Thank you again for generously including our story on your page. Your willingness to share with others makes us all stronger. Please let me know when you are out this way. You have a fan and a friend for life.

Joey

I am always willing to share or try to help parents whose children are newly diagnosed, especially those who live in Michigan and Ohio.

My list of beliefs:

I believe that early intervention is key. Time is precious. If something about you child’s development is troubling you, make an appointment their pediatrician. Today. If you don’t get a solid response to your concerns or a referral to a specialist, make an appointment with a developmental pediatrician yourself. I spent over a year listening to my pediatrician tell me there was nothing wrong with my son, that I “was neurotic” and that children with autism “never give eye contact or smile”.

Quality and quantity are important. Intensive therapy (ABA!!!, OT, SLP, Play, RDI) for as many hours as you can manage (recommendation is between 25-40) is priceless.

What goes in affects what comes out. A healthy diet, low in sugar, high in organics can benefit all children and a GF/CF diet does work for some people with autism.

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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Ship those kids back to school.

Now it took me two days because they go to 2 different schools, in two different systems. So Tuesday morning, in the blink of an eye, 55 pounds of “What’s for lunch today?” “When are we going to the pool?” “Can I have Patrick come to play?” “Why did Patrick’s parents go on vacation for two weeks?” “Why did they take Patrick?” “Why don’t we go on vacation for two weeks?” was out the door and on his way. 3rd graders, he informed me, DO NOT have their moms walk them to class on the first day. (No matter that he was going with his friend and his friend’s mom–he wasn’t going with HIS mom.) So that was the relatively painless phase of my 2 day weight loss program.

Then came Wednesday. New school. New teacher. Crappy awful temporary building. Mass confusion because of crappy, temporary building that is meant to house half the number of students they have shoehorned in. This is Matthew’s fourth school in four years–every time he gets used to the rules, boundaries and expectations, they move him. So here we are again, but this time faced with the mass confusion that comes when you move an entire school. I felt like saying to one of the other complaining parents, “Welcome to my world.” So into this melee, I drag Matthew and neither of us were amused. And while the weight fell off the day before in a barely noticeable fashion, these 50 pounds came off like ripping a large band aid off. And not quickly. So a meltdown, lots of tears, sobs and just plain old fashioned panic later, he was in the new class and I was sent packing. I’m not admitting to any of the above, at least not until I got to the car.

Then the miracle happened. The kids’ beloved Jessica, who has looked after them since Matthew was born, (really, truly, we’d adopt her if it was legal and not weird thing to do to a 20+ year old), well, she just graduated from college and is doing her student teaching. She was assigned to another school, but at the last minute was moved. So I get a text message as I get into the car, feeling like I’ve had the weight removed with a chainsaw and no anesthesia:

Been moved. To Matthew’s school. Will watch over him. Love, J

So I might have cried some more.

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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I have this speech I do usually at librarian conferences or to reader’s luncheons, and the part that always chokes me up is when I talk about how personal romance novels can become to each of us.  These aren’t just stories, they are  our books.  Not because we’d prefer our lives if we were Lady Elizabeth with a hundred servants at our beck and call or Princess (insert your name here) being pursued by the ruthless and devilishly handsome  Duke of Dreamy, but because these stories become our refuge from the challenges and mountains we all face in our daily lives.  I wouldn’t trade away or wish away my life for anything, but romance novels always make the darker days just a little bit brighter with their message of hope, resilience and hopefully that lucky bit of humor that makes you smile or laugh at loud.

So to me is a huge responsibility when I sit down to write.  I want my stories to entertain, because I know there are so many other women out there like me, with children with autism or a myriad of other horrible and awful disabilities, with aging or dying parents, struggling to make ends meet, going through marital problems, the list goes on and on.  So find a story today, carve out a bit of time to read, and know that we are all  in this together.  Writers, readers, fans and the fortunate who get to be all three.

Now it is time for me to get back to what I love . . . writing.  Just after I finish another chapter of Lorraine Heath’s new book….

Here’s a question:  What story or book or movie has touched you when you needed it the most?

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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To the families who live with autism.
May your day be blessed with the kindness of strangers,
the love of friends and families, and most of all, a cure.

And to FEAT of Washington and Autism Speaks,
my unwavering gratitude to you for your dedication and spirit of hope.
You help us believe.

And last, but far from least,
to Jamilla Kounellas and Rhoda Toulouse
for lending their names to this story
and their generosity to the charities near and dear to my heart.

So I did this and wondered if anyone would notice, if anyone would care as deeply and personally as I do. And imagine my shock and sheer joy when I got this email within eight hours of Love Letters from a Duke being released:

last night i was looking for a book to read. when i started to look
through boxes i found stealing the bride (i loved!!!! diana…temple,
too) and one night of passion (one of my top 5 romance novels). this
morning i went to the grocery store for a quick trip (i have two
little boys, it’s NOT easy) and saw a new Elizabeth Boyle book on the
stands…yay! it seemed like destiny, i had just found your older
books in my keeper box!

Okay, can I just say that at this point, I already like this lady. I mean, anyone who loves my books is obviously a reader of good taste and someone I want to know better. A kindred spirit in the making. So I read on:

and then i opened “love letters from a duke” and read your dedication.

So I have to interrupt again and say I don’t usually read dedications, unless its a friend’s book and I am secretly hoping they’ve dedicated it to me. (Which thank you very much Jane Porter for the honor! Now the rest of you, get cracking–I’m not getting any younger.) So as I am glibly reading this fan letter, enjoying her great breezy style, I discover we are indeed kindred spirits.

my 3.5 year-old son, Gabriel, was diagnosed with autism at 18 months.
our second son, Graydon, is a part of the university of michigan
sibling study (from birth) aimed at lowering the age of diagnosis
using the ADOS.

i haven’t read the book, but the dedication alone won me over…not
that i had to be won…boyle, quinn and brockmann are auto buys for
me! thank you, from the very tiniest tip of me heart, for your
dedication. that alone raised autism awareness exponentially!

Okay, now I am crying and sobbing and the DH comes rushing in my office, and I share the email with him. He’ll never admit it, but he got misty-eyed. You see it is so hard having a child with autism, so very isolating. And reading her words, brought hope and joy to my heart. Not because her son has autism, but because she’s helping where she can, just as I am doing. That feeling of loneliness or separation and outcastness that crowds into your life every day when you have child with autism seemed to lift, because I was no longer alone. And Joey’s words gave me hope because this problem that affects 1 out of every 150 children in this country it is like putting together a puzzle when you only have one piece–eventually enough people will add their pieces and the hope and dream and nightly prayer that every family with autism has–that there be a cure–is just that much closer to being solved.

So when you buy a copy of Love Letters from a Duke, a portion of my royalties will go to help kids like Gabriel and my dear Matthew. But if you want to do more, or do something very personal to help a mom, a fellow romance reader and now, my friend, Joey, consider helping her family raise money for the Autism Speaks Walk Now in Detroit by making a donation here. Then click on the Team Member Joey Begeman to make a donation. Any amount will help. And Joey, bless her heart, will feel the same joy I felt when I got her email.

©2012 Elizabeth Boyle Blog. All Rights Reserved.

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