Are we there yet?

My son is going to visit his grandparents in a couple of days.  He’ll spend a week with them doing some fantastic kid-friendly stuff, and I’m really excited for him and for them.  My own feelings about his going on vacation, however, are a little harder to describe.

See, on the one hand, there is the very simple feeling of choirs of angels singing:

Halle-freakin-lujah!!!!

Time to myself?  DAYS of it?  With no kids knocking at the door?  No hourly chorus of MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM?  No whining about the meal choices or having to shower or having to clean up toys (okay, I might still whine about that one - sorry, dear!) or complaints about brushing his teeth or that I’m working too much or that he wants me to go outside with him in the 900-degree weather and ride bikes?  Two whole days that I will get to spend with my husband with our clothes maybe mostly off, climbing out of bed when *we* need food, going out to a restaurant and NOT ordering chicken nuggets assoonasyoucangetthemtothetableplease, swearing whenever I want?  ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?  Where the hell do I sign up!?!?

Also on that hand, I will finally get some work done, have a moment’s peace to figure out what I’m going to do about this 2 job situation, be able to spend more than 1 hour in my office at a time so that my remodel can progress further if not near completion, go through my closet and make room for the pile of clothes that I need to hang up but can’t wedge in there at the moment, and spend at least 5 whole days without a dining room table completely covered by Legos.  I’m so psyched about all those things that I don’t think I can adequately express it, choir of angels or no!

So yeah, that’s the one hand.

On the other hand, I know what you’re expecting:  the pathetic mom whose baby is going to be away from her bosom (yeah, I said it) and won’t be able to function.  Well, yeah, I admit that I will greatly miss kissing him good night, smelling him after the shower I forced him to take, and the giant hugs he’s been giving recently, though I think those are coming from a place of knowing that he’s leaving for a little while — a subconscious miracle for my child.  Having him away from my reach is always difficult for me, and after a traumatic start to school, it was several solid months (and I’m being conservative) after we found the perfect school for him before I stopped worrying about every second he was at school.  In the case of a child completely devoid of social skill, it comes with the territory, and sadly, that one grows worse as he ages instead of better.  That’s another blog entirely, though it does play a part in my anxiety now because I worry about how he will function there and what his grandparents will not catch on to quickly enough or at all because they haven’t seen him in months and aren’t used to his “way.”  I reconcile myself on that one, though, knowing that different experiences like that have historically brought him more into the world, so I always have more hope than fear when he goes off for an adventure like this.  I will definitely miss him, but knowing that he is having fun and most likely growing in experience will help that immensely.

No, the other hand is the simple fact that there is a change occurring in my daily life.  It never ceases to amaze me that the more I learn about ADD and how it works within me, the more I realize that things I always thought about myself are true and not so true at the same time.  For example, I am spontaneous, often in the form of impulsive; I never used to think that I was impulsive, just that I knew what I wanted.  While I still agree with the assessment that I try to logic out my wants and, once I have, can be, um, committed to what I want, I understand now that is driven by a total lack of patience (read:impulsivity).  I want what I want when I want it (damn it), and waiting for it just seems stupid if another option is available.  It’s not so much about being spoiled or having no self-discipline (thought I freely admit that I fall squarely under that heading more often than I would like), it’s really just more of a, “Well, why the hell not???”  Anyway, the point is that for someone who can be spontaneous to the point that I think I hold a record for making the most number of people shoot beverages out of their nose in one day, I reeeeally don’t cope well with changes to my daily routine.

The irony, of course, is that I don’t have much of a daily routine.  My husband used to have such a morning routine that I wouldn’t get up in the morning until he was out the door because fucking up his routine by being in the bathroom when he was supposed to be brushing his teeth wasn’t worth the big freaked out grouch he’d be.  Me?  Yeah, that is NOT me.  I’m much more of a mosey-er.  I get up, say good morning to the kid, take the dog out, eat my breakfast, help the kid get ready for school, the boys leave, and I’m on my own to do my own thing.  I might work, I might watch Good Morning America, I might go back to sleep, I might play a video game and go back to sleep at the same time (those are some weird dreams, people).  But, I knew that from the moment they walked out the door until the moment I had to walk out the door in the afternoon to go pick up the kid, that time was my own.  That was my routine.  Been outta school damn near a month now, and I still don’t have one down for the summer.  I don’t function well if I don’t feel settled into something, and I’m definitely still not settled (very hard to settle with your only child around all the time - at least for me).  And what little bit of settling I’ve managed is about to come undone because he’s not going to be here.  I just don’t do this kind of change.

So, with vacation looming, I am listless and restless and many other things that end in -less.  I find myself wishing it was already over and he was back.  I find myself thinking that it will be over far too soon and I will be back to days of almost no moments entirely to myself.  I find myself afraid of not accomplishing anything that I hope to and also worrying that I will (because, ya know, THEN what?).  I find myself wishing that school would hurry up and start again so that I would feel settled and could get something done.  Then I find myself wishing that school would never start again because I hate the craziness of the school year schedule, especially in the fall.

Yeah, I’m nuts.  But hey, at least I get to sleep in and watch an R-rated movie during the day next week. 

Decisions, decisions

OW!!!

what did you do, mom?

I banged my hand into the doorway, darn it.

you need to be careful.

Yeah, I know.  Mom has trouble with her careful.

well you need to do a better job being careful, or i’ll get you with my bandit gun.

I’ll need some time to think about my options.

okay, i’ll be waiting.

 

It’s a good thing we have the adult channels blocked.

mom?

Yes?

next time you get in a car accident, i know who you should call.

You do?

yep, you need to call the heavy hitter.  he’ll take on the insurance company and get you your money FAST.

All rightee then.

you want the number?

You know what it is, don’t you?

it’s 555-1000

Thank you, Son.  I really need to teach you how to mute the commercials.

 

I blame my husband

Do you want to listen to some music while we clean up for a while?

sure, that’s a great idea, mom

Okay, what would you like to listen to?

hmmm….  iron maiden.

Umm, yeah, that was I was in the mood for too…  no better music for cleaning than Iron Maiden, I always say.

Nickelodeon has far too many commercials

what are you lookin’ at, mom?

I was just noticing that my flowers are blooming!

where?

The yellow ones, right there.

wow.  how the heck can they be blooming without roll and grow?!?

Without what??

roll and grow

What?  roll ? and ? grow ?

[looks at me like I'm obviously an addle-minded twit]  
roll.and.grow.  you know, just roll out, water, and let nature do the rest!

Wait a minute.  Do you mean that thing on TV?

yeah!  [with a look that screams:  duh!]

You do know that flowers can grow and bloom WITHOUT Roll N Grow, right?  What on earth are they teaching you in science class anyway?

i don’t know.

I knew that already.

No, no - anything but that!

“My feet hurt!”

“Are you going to live?”

“No.  They hurt terrible.”

“Do we need to shoot you and put you out of your misery?”

“NO!!!! …. Why would you put me in Missouri?”

“Oh Son - I would NEVER do that.”

Pavlov’s dog did not have Asperger’s

Well, first I have to say that I hate the new admin page formats, currently with the heat of a supernova.  I’m sure I’ll move past it at some point.  Maybe.  I think my favorite part so far has to be that the posting box got (yet again) smaller while the font size for the blog title, etc., can be seen from my neighbor’s house.  wtf, mate??  And what’s with the barf-tastic color scheme of light blue on… light blue?  Bah.

On with our regularly scheduled program…

 

I’m down here right now instead of upstairs eating dinner with my family.  Yeah, I feel like a total putz for that, but sometimes, the only thing I can do is remove myself from the situation - often because I know that my angst is palpable and will only make things worse when the kid in the mix grasps no one else’s feelings almost ever, with the one exception being when someone has angst - because of him.  Now, mind you, that’s not empathy or sympathy coming out, and it isn’t that it’s the only feeling he can read.  No, it is because if I have angst because of him, it directly affects his ability to do whatever the hell he wants.  Yes, often in the Aspie world, if you can’t figure out why a child is acting the way they are, you need to re-center and remind yourself that their world is 100% about themselves and, therefore, about how THEY get to interact with the world, not about how the world interacts with them.  Resort to the simplest question of, “Is there a way that he could be making this entirely about himself?” and you’ll almost always find your answer.

I have ADD, and one facet of that for many people, myself included, is the need for praise/reward for behavior.  If I do something nice, I need to hear that I did.  Some people would call it being self-centered.  Some would call it having low self-esteem.  I’ll grant you a component of both, frankly, but truly, it’s because that is how *I* interact with the world.  Praise/Reward creates energy in someone with ADD; it’s a snowball effect.  And, truly, it’s usually pretty pathetic how little praise/reward it takes to have that snowball rolling down the hill like a freakin’ meteor in the direction you want it to go.

Explains A LOT about my years as a teenage girl and the barge-load of mistakes I’ve made with boys/men all my life.

As we all tend to reflect what we want, ADD’ers also tend to give a lot of praise/reward, sometimes to the point that we can seem overbearing, stifling, or flat-out crazy.  To us, our words of praise or encouragement mean the world, but I imagine they often mostly just bounce off others as fairly insignificant comments or, at best, leave only a fleeting impression.  We are the quintessential example of “a smile can make someone’s day.”  Truly, a kind word and a smile from someone as I hold the door for them coming out of the gas station can absolutely turn my day around 180 degrees.

The point is that I had imagined that my child would be like me (don’t we all).  I’m sure every parent is disappointed in many respects when it comes to that fantasy; Junior has no interest in football and doesn’t care about your favorite car, and Janie would rather drive a forklift than take ballet and refuses to even consider the flute.  As the ADD parent of an Aspie child, the person I want to make happy more than anything else in the world couldn’t care less about my wants, my efforts, or my good intentions brought about by my love for him.  My drive to see him happy means absolutely nothing to him, even when I am successful, and in the end, it is my innermost being that feels it has been resolutely rejected.  It is crushing, in the worst of ways.

While I try to take comfort in a partial silver lining that, on some level, he doesn’t suffer from a need to please others or put their wants above his own, I know that is built not of confidence but deficiency.  I can see the edges where that frays with his peers and know that the time is coming where those things will start to, if not matter to him then become a source of terrible frustration and angst of his own.  And, somehow, I will have to find a way to help him through it and teach him how to deal with it, on his terms, and hopefully before it molds him into an angry young man.  Yes, I will have to teach him how to understand people like me.

And so it is that I am here with my hurt, by the lamp light, tears streaming down my face, because I cannot yet even imagine when or where I will find the strength for that challenge.  I just have to believe that I will.

World Autism Awareness Day

Today is World Autism Awareness Day.

 …in case you live in a bubble without internet, television, or radio access and haven’t already heard. 

Of course, I say that, but yet I’m irritated to hell and back that Google didn’t alter its homepage image today in recognition.  ???  Because there was never a logo that begged more for a puzzle piece, so how does that work?

The concept of this day (and really, week) is great, and more power to everyone involved in raising awareness throughout the world.  Incidentally, I hope we’re raising awareness about more than nonverbal autism; I know that CNN has a wonderful article written by an Aspergian someone on their staff.  I also hope we’re doing more than bitching about vaccines and raving about gluten-free diets.  Yes, those are important issues, but they aren’t the only issues. 

Have you noticed that anything talking about Autism Awareness seems to end up being the same few things over and over again?  If you’re a parent of an autistic child, I assure you, you’ve noticed.  Currently the winners are: 

• A list of early warning signs.
• Jenny McCarthy talking about her son’s amazing recovery with a GFCF diet (among other things - and hallelujah to her, but not all kids have GI symptoms, people, including mine).
• Snippets of debates over vaccines and other possible causes. 

Things I don’t see anyone talking about:

• School with communication and socialization curricula. 
• High-functioning kids who still aren’t going to be able to make it in the world if they aren’t able to get some adaptive therapies - that their parents can’t possibly pay for. 
• The fact that, in most states, the public school system is not even close to adequately equipped to deal with the needs of these children but that yet it is still a bloody war that is left to the parents to fight alone to try to get proper services for their child, often either failing or paying such a high cost emotionally, mentally, and financially by the time they see any measure of success that the mere act of trying to facilitate their child’s education—one small part of the child’s needs—can destroy their lives, relationships, and family.
• And oddly, am I the only person on the planet who thinks someone should start talking to the ‘normal’ rest of the world about how to deal with people with deficits in communication and social skills?  Maybe it’s time that someone ELSE adjust besides just the people who are already in the fight of their lives?  Just, ya know, maybe.

CNN has dedicated a huge amount of their day’s programming to autism, which is fantastic, truly.  It would be even more fantastic if it hadn’t inspired someone to call me repeatedly to tell me that it was on and that I should watch it.  I’m pretty sure it would be deemed incredibly rude of me to reply, “In case you hadn’t noticed?  I’m Aware.  With a capital A.  YOU watch it.  Call your friends and tell THEM to watch it.  Please, scream it from the highest rooftop.  But me?  I’m covered.”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go spend some time with my autistic son, whose programming is dedicated to raising my Awareness 24/7/365.

Funk-y

If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “Gee, I really wish I could get myself into one hell of a funk right now,” I’m here with your solution — because that’s the helpful kind of chick that I am. 

All you need to do is go through your finances with a semi-fine-toothed comb, realize how little money you have and how truly in debt you are, and then literally pour your heart out on paper to beg someone for as much financial aid as they can possibly give you so that your special needs child can continue to get the special needs education that he’d be completely screwed without.

It’s just that simple.

Well, not entirely that simple.  If you want it to be a really good funk, you need to repeat the process every year.  By year 4, I assure you that you’ll be thoroughly demoralized.  I know that you’re ready to get started right now!

I’d go to sleep for several days in an effort to rid myself of this slimy funk-y-ness, but tomorrow, my husband and I have to meet with a bunch of professionals so that they can finally tell us, officially, that our son has an ‘educational diagnosis’ of autism.

At which point, we’ll turn to each other and very calmly say, “No shit.”

Blogs that Should Be

I blog every single day, sometimes multiple times a day.  Unfortunately for me –and for you if, for whatever reason, you actually *want* to read my drivel– I can’t type while I drive.

But if I could, you people would hear from me more than you hear from your credit card companies.

Driving is one of the few times of day when my mind is otherwise fairly quiet.  Why?  Geez, you non-ADDers are always with the questions.  It’s because one portion of my brain is solidly focused on driving.  ONE portion, Dys?  Just one?!?  Yeah, trust me; I have fireworks going off from every direction in there the rest of the day (and sometimes night).  One portion is really all you need for driving.  It’s a significant enough portion, however, that you really should SHUT THE HELL UP AND DRIVE, but that’s another blog.

And so it is that while I’m driving, all the things I’d like to say but never make the time for come to the front of my mind.  Of course, I think of small things like:

• Man, my car is filthy.
• Damn, I forgot the bank deposit at home.
• Man, my car is FILTHY.

And then I think of bigger things that I’d actually like to blog about, such as:

• I really have to find a way to stop staying up until 2 or 3 or 4 in the morning; it’s killing me.  I have yet to see a “cure” for this in one of the gazillion or so ADD books I’ve read/bought/borrowed.  Set up a schedule.  Okay, done it.  Now, tell me how to make myself adhere to it.  I have a list of these types of things.
• It’s been something like a solid 8 months since I let go of a friend after he told me that he and his wife were having a kid, and I’m still trying to nail down just what the hell my problem is there.  I’ve talked it out to myself in my car.  (Yes, I’m one of those crazy people, but hey, for all you know, I’m singing or talking on a hands-free headset SHUT UP AND DRIVE.)  I’ve talked it out in my dreams, and I don’t notice my dreams very often so that was a bit odd.  I’ve beat it about in my head until it felt as though a men’s beach volleyball tournament had been held in there ….

What?  Oh, sorry.  Momentary lapse of concentration.  And drool.

• I hate the parent club.  If you have an NT kid and you think we’re in the same club because we’ve both spawned?  That’s like saying we’re in the same club because we both pee more than once a day.  It’s a worthless statistic, a correlation between two things that, in reality, have nothing to do with each other.  Yeah, I have a lot to say on that one.  But I’m not bitter. 
• My kid went to summer camp at his school last year, which was the plan again for this year.  Right up until the moment they let us know that they would NOT be hosting a summer camp this year.  Mother of God.  What the sam hell am I going to do now???  My initial instinct, of course, was to buck up to the challenge and try to just have a great summer with the kid.  Then he spent a couple of days in a row home sick, and by day two, between my ADD and his AS, I was paralyzed, worthless, irritable, and guilt-ridden.  There are several blogs to be had from that one.

Anyway, please know, dear people who trip past my tiny cubby here on the World Wide Web (doesn’t that just sound hysterical to say out loud in 2008?), I do think of you often and wish that I could blather here a lot more than I seem to find the time to do.  But, if you miss my particular brand of humor, just hit up my husband’s blog.  I’m hysterical over there. 

Even when he misquotes me.  Which is always. 

And, yes, even in the blog where he talks about misquoting me.  The man is consistent.  One of the many reasons I love him!