My Whac-A-Mole Life: 2012   

Holiday Gift Guide

Shhh. I am sharing this retroactively. I realize you probably haven't noticed (and I'm foolish to point it out) but my blog feels pretty time-worn at the moment. Let's imagine it on vacation, maybe on a breezy beach with mai tais in hand.

Still, December looks so very lonely in the timeline. So for the record, I did post in the blogosphere in December. Just not here. Problem now corrected. 

Follow this link for your outdated, irrelevant BUT STILL HIGHLY COMPELLING story about gifting on your winter holiday of choice. Actually, er, who doesn't want to start planning for next Christmas, right? Or perhaps for your child's birthday?



Posted by Comments
Labels: , , , , , , ,

Ten Things I Learned From Pop Music in 2012

My family spends lots of time on the road driving to/from schools, therapies, crazyland (see Tales From the Minivan). We listen to hand-picked CDs, yes, but the kids also really like current, pop music. We treat ourselves to commercial-free, satellite radio, and we definitely get our money's worth.

The thing is, however, while my daughter and I pretty much just dig the tunes and belt out (with varying degrees of accuracy and success) whatever words we think we hear, my analytic son - so I've learned - listens and thinks about the ACTUAL LYRICS. And, naturally, he has follow-up questions. Many of them.

As a result, I've taken "Last Friday Night" out of the mix for good. As another result (and courtesy of an awesome writing prompt from Stasha and company) you get this list. Happy Monday!
10 THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM POP MUSIC IN 2012:

1. Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) is a super-fun song...but much less fun once you have to explain the lyrics to an 11-year-old: "menage a trois? Hmm, I think she's saying a bunch to draw or I munched crudite ... OH LOOK, Gangnam Style is on. Let's turn it up now."
2. Songs are much better when no one can understand a word. All hail Gangnam Style.
3. We're sad to hear about Kelly Clarkson's divorce. You know, because "the bed feels warmer, sleeping here alone." Her husband is no longer sleeping at home. Obviously. Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You).
4. Flippant songs can be exhausting. Who knew that We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together would require hours of follow-up discussion?
    • Why someone would write such a mean song
    • Breakups in general and why they might not be friendly
    • Well, if they weren't married, why would she not understand if he was seeing other people. Isn't that the definition of dating?
    • Why would you date exclusively but not get married?
    • Well, then why would he want to get back together?
    • You're right, "no" does mean "no," but...
    • And so on...
5. Girls can be so silly. Just pick up the phone and call him already. Or text him. Or move on. Sheesh! (See Call Me Maybe and Brokenhearted).
6. Adam Levine doesn't sound very reliable. Glad he didn't say "stick a needle in my eye too"...because if he's already said it a million times, he's broken lots of promises and lost credibility. Just saying. (See One More Night.)
7. Still, Maroon 5 does serve an educational purpose. They taught my children two "new" words: Payphone and Jagger.
8. Nicki Minaj sings a very cool song about aliens: Starships. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  (Please please please don't Google the lyrics!)
9. Against all odds, I've gained an appreciation for the grating tracks of Kidz Bop despite (and exactly because of) lyrics like "I love to dance next to you baby" which curiously replace lyrics like "I love to make love to you baby." (See Dance Again).
10. Finally, sure We Are Young, but we're definitely OVER 21... because, you know, all that drinking and falling down and stuff.



Posted by
Labels: , , , ,

Did I Say That? *Autism Edition*

This week's writing prompt from Mama Kat over at Mama's Losin' It was too good to pass up: Write a list of 10 things you have said to your kids that other moms might not say.

You know, those times when something comes out of your mouth with your super-serious parent voice and you suddenly realize how absurd you sound? (It was warranted, trust me, you just had to be there.) Yep, those. Oh, but I did modify the assignment a bit:
    • First, I enlisted the help of some friends - because think of how great it turned out when we collaborated on our list of -INATORS. (Plus, I didn't have to write it all myself.)
    • I narrowed the focus: Welcome to the AUTISM EDITION.
    • I didn't stop at 10. You're welcome.

SENSORY EXPLORATION (where licking emerged as a common theme)

MANAGING STIMS AND OBSESSIONS

RIGIDITY (with compassion for Glass Half Full)

  • I'm sorry I put your milk on the right side of your plate instead of the left. Stop screaming at me. - Glass Half Full
  • I'm sorry I didn't put your socks on at the same exact moment you wanted them on. Stop screaming at me. - Glass Half Full
  • I know you hate people, sweetheart. I hate them too, but they have to be dealt with. - Pancakes Gone Awry
  • I know you hate utensils, but you can't throw forks across your classroom. It's just not safe! - Glass Half Full
  • I don't care that you think it's stupid, you have to do it, anyway. Life is full of stupid things. Get used to it. -- Woulda Shoulda Coulda
  • Who ate all the bottoms out of the bag of hamburger buns? - Yeah. Good Times.

Mama’s Losin’ It FROM OUR FACEBOOK PAGE: 


 Thank you to all of these contributors. Got some good ones of your own? We wanna see! Please comment and share below.

 ***For more autism parent humor (is that a thing?), check out: You Might Be An Autism Parent If...
Posted by Comments
Labels: , , , ,

Things Aren't Always What They Seem: A Lesson in Generalization

One afternoon, my boy nonchalantly relayed this story to me:
Child X is playing a game on his laptop, and Children A and B are oohing and aahing over his shoulder. My curious son joins in to watch, but Child X covers his screen and says:
"You can't watch me play. Go away."
OUCH! My bully radar soared to red alert; my fangs and talons were itching to strike. Yet, I tried to remain calm and rational. I took a breath, and reminded myself that things aren't always what they seem.

 I probed a bit: What EXACTLY happened...How did that make you feel...What did your friends do/say...Why do you think he said that...Who the hell is this rotten kid anyway?

At this point, I started to get a bunch of I don't remembers followed by a Can I please just play my game now.

Between you and me, let's just agree that kids aren't so smart. How could they be? They're uneducated, totally inexperienced, and have underdeveloped, unseasoned brains with absolutely no context for their thoughts. Now, pair that fact with the idea that a number of children with autism - as well as some other neurological conditions and learning disorders - struggle with "generalization."

Generalization, as I've come to understand, is the ability to apply something you've learned across settings, circumstances and situations. A common example is: You teach a kid not to cross the street alone. Does the child understand that lesson applies to all streets or just THAT particular spot on THAT particular street? It's an extraordinarily different way of thinking.

You know what makes generalization even more challenging? Rules. Especially rules with exceptions or inexplicable, social expectations. So now, you tell him, go ahead and cross that street when the light changes. Or at the crosswalk. Or if you look both ways. Or if there's a guy wearing a yellow hat waving you over. OH MY GAH, it's so confusing!

With that mindset, a kid so easily could "disobey," get it wrong, or just meltdown at the thought of trying to keep up with all these street-crossing regulations.

 How revealing it can be when children actually explain their unorthodox behavior - which, often, seems completely rational and logical in their own minds.

For example, it was driving me batty that my OCD-stricken son's hands always were wet. He was struggling with classic germ phobia, and was washing them A LOT. (I'm pretty sure patterns and rituals were involved, but he's stealthy about that.) Of course, I assumed he simply forgot to dry his dripping hands. When yelling didn't fix that, I then got him to agree that it was because he didn't think the towels were clean enough (I get that), so I fancied up his bathroom and mucked up the environment with disposable hand towels. He still dripped all over the place.

Finally, when the lights were low and the mood was right, he explained that, since our treatment plan involved restricting hand-washing, as well as limited discussing and reassuring him of cleanliness, he prefers to keep them wet because then he is sufficiently reassured that they are clean. Oooooooooh, of course.

 Similarly, my friend over at Snagglebox (who just wrote a fantastic post about literal thinking) shared this anecdote:
My son tells me that he finds playing tag stressful because, "When you touch somebody else to make them 'it', technically the energy is bouncing back and forth between your bodies as you touch. So how do you know who is actually 'it' when you let go?"
Guess who probably avoids playing tag...and imagine how this would play out if he couldn't explain himself. 

Does your child also suffer from "perceived injustices" (a term I borrowed from my friend at Try Defying Gravity)? My son once spent a year snubbing a really, sweet kid (who had absolutely no idea he was being snubbed, mind you) for something quite innocent he said that my son found hurtful. He told me about it years later. And this is my verbal child!

 My daughter is required to navigate the world without the ability to express herself or explain her behaviors.

 We were having lunch at a particular friend's house last week for the first time in several years. My autistic daughter went all Taz on us - screaming, running around like a whirling dervish, and repeatedly asking for dessert. (I was reminded why we don't have lunch at friends' houses more often!)

 However, using my parental telepathy, I finally figured out what was going on. Last time when we were at this home - maybe 3 years ago - she was served a particular cookie. Clearly, she wanted/expected that same cookie to be served again. Because - in her orderly brain that seems so chaotic to the rest of us - that's the pattern established in her memory. This house = delicious cookie dessert. That's the rule. Unfortunately, others probably just see an out-of-control kid.

Now, let's circle back to the brat bullying my son. You'll never believe what really happened. Miraculously, my little talk with my son paid off. He returned to school, and somehow "discussed" the situation with Child A and Child B. Together, they approached Child X, who apparently meant no ill will. He was simply following THE RULES.

What he said: "You can't watch me play. Go away."
What his mother had told him: "Don't let anyone you don't know use your computer or watch you work on it."

Child X (in another class) already knew Child A and Child B. He'd never formally met their other classmate - my son.

Oooooooooh, of course. See? Things aren't always what they seem.

Posted by Comments
Labels: , , , , , ,

Meditation For An Autism Mom


This is not my fault.

I am doing the best I can, which means acknowledging that it will never feel like enough. I am only human.

I am gaining patience, resilience, wisdom and strength. I don't see it; I don't necessarily feel it; but it's true. It just has to be true.

My home is a disaster - whether due to my Tasmanian devil child, diminishing time and money, or pure, unprecedented exhaustion (or a combination thereof). I must learn to care less.

I have lost sight of my identity, my friends, my professional drive, and my peace because I am laser-focused on my child's well-being and future readiness. Still, I can take baby steps for my own sanity. For example, today, maybe I'll shower.

I find myself saying and doing things I never imagined due to my child's absurd, unpredictable behavior, interests and needs. I want to cry on many occasions; but it always feels better to laugh.

I am overwhelmed by the seemingly infinite cures, therapies, medications, treatments and diets that I am told will help my child. Some will help; others won't. We'll unapologetically do what works best for us, when it works for us - holistically, logistically and practically.

Each year, I will continue to search for the perfect school scenario for my child; nothing will ever fit quite right. I will take it day by day, year by year.

I am my child's best advocate. I will trust my instincts. I will consult with professionals, doctors, teachers and psychologists; but mostly I have to learn to trust myself.

I will feel judged. Sometimes, I really am being judged, so I should grow a thicker skin. More important, however, I am judging myself, and I need to learn to be kinder to myself.
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CLICK TO READ MORE »
Posted by
Labels: , , , , ,

Managing Your Child's Medications: A Lay-Parent's Guide

We're on drugs. Yep, you name it (duh, legally prescribed drugs), we've probably tried it. I can't say I'm as drug-savvy as Nancy Botwin, and we certainly don't grow or sell them, but we do manage them. Doses, prescriptions, times, counter-effects, interactions, half-lives - it's a lot to take in when you're just trying to keep a kid from scratching your eyes out.

This post is NOT about the pros and cons of medicating children. It's a highly personal, emotional issue for many of us, and I don't wish to debate that here. Obviously, medications are not always the answer. Medications alone rarely are the answer. And unfortunately identifying the RIGHT medications and dosages often can feel like chasing a carrot: just when you think you've nailed it -bam! - the kid has a growth spurt; or completely new symptoms; or they stop making THAT pill in THAT dose; or something else.

Nonetheless, I chose to add medications to our treatment plans, and any reservations I had quickly dissipated after witnessing undeniable, SIGNIFICANT results.

Of course, that doesn't mean I love doling out psychotropic medications any more than I like my kid's melatonin habit. However, I defer to the age-old wisdom: if your child needs a wheelchair, you provide the wheelchair. Yes, you also offer therapy, rehab, counseling, sporn flushing, and so on, but you must provide the wheelchair.

Anyhoo, I've become somewhat of a preachy busybody on this topic because I screw up a lot, and it makes me feel much better to pretend I've learned something from it. So, as much as I support the use of  psychiatric medications when needed, I am militant about the following pointers. If you have others, please share them below, because I'm pretty sure we will continue to be a poster household for Big Pharma for many years to come.

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CLICK TO READ MORE »
Posted by
Labels: , , , , , ,

GIVEAWAY: Easy to Love but Hard to Raise

It's my first blog giveaway, and I feel oddly powerful. I'm giving away a shiny, new copy of  Easy to Love but Hard to Raise. Read more about the book and its origins here: Guest Post: Easy to Love but Hard to Raise.

This giveaway is open beginning RIGHT NOW through August 22nd, morning-ish.

I'm glad to share this meaningful book with one of my readers. I won't call you lucky, because if you need this book...well, you might feel slightly less so. So how can you win? Well, I'm thinking that if you're anything like me, you're busy enough filling out paperwork, shuttling to therapy, and just trying to keep it all together. The last thing I want to do is to make your life harder. Or my life harder. I mean, what in the world is a Rafflecopter anyway?

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CLICK TO READ MORE »
Posted by Comments
Labels: , ,

Guest Post: Easy to Love but Hard to Raise

Editor's Note: When I was asked if I'd be interested in participating in a Book Blog Tour for Easy to Love but Hard to Raise, here's what zipped through my multi-tasking brain:
  • That is the most perfect book title. Do I get a free book?
  • Wow, they found me. And they think I have readers and influence. Hahahahahah
  • They can't make me like it. Will they want the free book back if I slam it? But with a title like that, I can't possibly NOT like it...
  • I think we're out of milk.
So, yes, not only did I get a free book, but they also are graciously allowing me to send one to you too! (Here's how you can win. Now, about that milk.) Even better, it turns out, I had nothing to worry about. I love this book just as much as the title. See, like many parents, when my children were first diagnosed with whatever, I scoured the Interwebs, the library and Amazon.com, pouring over every related title I could find. Next stage, I avoided every related title I could find. I finally understood why my husband wouldn't watch any formulaic, special needs, feel-good films with me: "I live this every day. I don't need to watch someone else living it too."
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CLICK TO READ MORE »
Posted by Comments
Labels: , , ,

I Dropped Out Of Baby Gym. Twice.

The comfortably padded walls, blinding primary colors and off-putting, patchwork-clown puppet at HappyBabyGym had lured me in again. This time, I assured myself, I'd claim my rightful share of HappyBabyGym moments.

See, as a new mother, you’ve miraculously attained a baby; somehow managed to feed, clothe, burp, change it; and maybe gone outside for a stroll. Still, you’re tired, lonely and – let’s be honest – bored. Baby’s not exactly Dorothy Parker. You need to pack that intimidating diaper bag and escape the house. So, with my second baby in tow, I once again found myself at HappyBabyGym.

I was pleased that, four years later, the routine and songs remained exactly the same. I dutifully cajoled my daughter to clap, stomp and pop bubbles on cue, silently begging her to conform with me.

The Dreaded Checklist
The same moms chattered enthusiastically, although they had little in common aside from parenting a child of similar age. They didn't yet know that even that bond was weak, held together only by a checklist of milestones.

My son had been born with a condition that could result in physical and/or cognitive challenges. We were told it would not be possible until he was older to assess the severity, and we had to "wait and see." I can report now that he would, indeed, grow into his "best-case scenario" and his challenges are, relatively, mild. However, each week at  HappyBabyGym, we'd only know that he had missed yet another milestone on the list.

His delays were amplified, scrutinized and assessed competitively to a point that, at circle time, I'm pretty sure I exaggerated his mastery of the sippy cup and other weekly accomplishments. Sure, the mothers would be sympathetic, at times making a big deal of placing little Johnny next to my son to roll a ball together, but when numbers were exchanged, nobody asked for mine. After I strategically lunged for the only instrument my child could grasp during the baby band jam, we'd partner up with the group’s lone nanny and her charge.

No, I was not joyous and self-satisfied, like the moms on the brochure. Nor did my son giggle gleefully under the colorful parachute. He was the one screaming in terror. We often cried in unison as we drove home.

So when I returned years later with my daughter, I felt entitled to a picture-perfect HappyBabyGym experience. I deserved this.

Alas, just because she could perform their tricks did not mean she wanted to. Instead, like her older brother, she cried. Or ran in circles. Or sniffed the other kids’ hair. So we put our shoes back on, and I walked out of HappyBabyGym for good.

Soon after, we found solace, companionship and comfort among moms and children elsewhere: in waiting rooms and doctor’s offices, where she aced another checklist: the signs of autism.


read to be read at yeahwrite.meThis post is part of the Yeah Write Summer Writer's Series. I had my choice of three writing prompts and chose: "Describe a time you felt alone." I am proud to be part of this talented, supportive writing community.
Posted by
Labels: , , , ,

The -INATORS

Whatchadoin?

We're watching a lot of Phineas and Ferb this summer. I'm not complaining (much) since it's scads better than our Month of Teletubbies; or the Decade of Dora; or our Year of "Here Come The 123s" (which started out just fine but, wow, it got tiresome after a few months).

So, for those of you not familiar with our little Disney Channel friends, here's what you need to know. Phineas and Ferb are clever little inventors trying to keep busy during their 104 days of summer vacation. Perry, their pet platypus, is Secret Agent P - deployed by the O.W.C.A. (Organization Without a Cool Acronym) - to thwart Mad Scientist Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz (of Doofenshmirtz Evil, Inc.).

Now, in each episode, Doofenshmirtz conceives of a scheme or invention, usually dubbed something-"Inator", which is intended to help him take over America's Tri-State area (not the world, mind you, because he's not greedy).

The expert folks over at the Phineas and Ferb Wiki (yup) describe the -inators as "typically grandiose in scope, involving a complicated solution instead of applying a simpler, more practical method. The motivation behind their development is typically a need to exact revenge for an unpleasant incident in his life, or to resolve a situation that annoys him." Naturally, something always goes wrong, and no, it wouldn't have anything to do with the built-in, self-destruct buttons.

In homage to our Summer of Phineas and Ferb, I, and some bloggy, autism-parent friends, have brainstormed some INATORS that we think would help us dominate our own homes. That's right, just our very own homes. Are we asking too much? Yes. Yes we are.

Household Helpers
  • Lunch-Make-Inator automatically assembles lunches with the designated number of chicken nuggets (counted meticulously); packed with the correct juice flavor of the day and switched out instantly (regardless of what's in the fridge) when minds are changed; and placed without fail into the RIGHT kid's backpack.
  • Lego-Disappear-Clean-Up-Inator --Patty Porch-Hooper, Pancakes Gone Awry
  • Door-Lock-Inator makes gates, locks and alarms magically appear to block access to all things dangerous, fragile or off-limits.
  • De-Shitify-The-House-Inator --Tim, Both Hands and a Flashlight  
  • Wife-Inator (because I need a wife to help with appointments, paperwork and household tasks.) --Amanda Griffiths, Confessions From HouseholdSix
Sanity Savers
  • It's-4-O'Clock-Somewhere-Inator makes the perfect adult beverage --Kelly Hafer, Unplanned Trip To Holland 
  • Screaming-Kid-In-Car-So-Let-Me-In-Your-Lane-Jerk-Inator clears the path instantly
  • Spit-It-Out-Inator (aka the Not-For-Mouth-Inator) --Jennie B., Anybody Want a Peanut?
  • Divide-The-Parking-Lot-Like-the-Red-Sea-Inator keeps kids safe whether they meander, bump, or tantrum in a heap on the ground
  • Change-The-Song-Inator instantly changes whatever theme song/toy jingle/etc. to something tolerable. --Jennie B., Anybody Want a Peanut?
  • Sleep-Inject-Inator --Tim, Both Hands and a Flashlight
    aka  Fast-Asleep-Inator --Flannery, The Connor Chronicles
  • Caffeine-Inator to quickly give tired parents a jolt--Alysia, Try Defying Gravity
  • De-Script-Inator to stop the endless loop --Flannery, The Connor Chronicles
    aka Echolalia-Inator which stops the incessant repetition for a few moments. --Patty Porch-Hooper, Pancakes Gone Awry
  • Calm-Inator -Jennie B., Anybody Want a Peanut?
  • Groom-Inator (for instant cleaning of teeth, nails, etc) -- Jennie B., Anybody Want a Peanut?
  • Sniff-Inator (Alex has been sniffing things) --Lizbeth Cole, Four Sea Stars
  • Mom-Inator - they already did this episode, but clone me so I can be in three places at once. --Alysia, Try Defying Gravity
  • Monopoly-Inator to make it go away for me --Lizbeth Cole, Four Sea Stars (Lizbeth's son is OBSESSED with beating his mother at Monopoly)
  • I-Thing-Duplicator (or Special-Interest-Maker) for those times when just one won't do. --Lizbeth Cole, Four Sea Stars (*Lizbeth failed to follow the "inator" rule of this game, but we'll let it go because, well, it's Lizbeth.)
  • Squishy-Hug-Inator for those needing deep pressure --Alysia, Try Defying Gravity
  • Thanks-For-Sharing-Captain-Obvious-Inator because Ted constantly tells us the obvious --Kelly Hafer, Unplanned Trip To Holland
  • Answer-Question-Inator provides the exact answer Jacob expects to hear when he asks his questions over and over again --Varda (SquashedMom), The Squashed Bologna
  • Fairy-Godmother-Inator to make all his impossible wishes come true --I'm Looking For Blue Sky
  • Poop-Goes-In-The-Pot-Inator to instantly render Ted potty trained --Kelly Hafer, Unplanned Trip To Holland
Educate and Advocate Assistants
  • Stop-Staring-It's-Autism-What's-Your-Problem-Elim-Inator
  • Aware-Inator that spreads awareness and acceptance all over the Tri-State area. This one does not have a self-destruct button! --Alysia, Try Defying Gravity
  • IEP-Inator/Due-Process-Inator/Services-Inator --Patty Porch-Hooper, Pancakes Gone Awry
  • Fill-Out-All-These-Effing-Forms-Inator --Tim, Both Hands and a Flashlight
  • Talk-To-The-Hand-Inator for people offering stupid advice --Tim, Both Hands and a Flashlight
See, this is fun, right? Share your ideas below or you know what we'll have to do.
Say it with me, now: "Curse you, Perry the Platypus!"
Posted by
Labels: , ,

Guest Post: My Family Just Doesn't Get It

Editor's Note: I've opted to keep my blog identity separate from my IRL self for several reasons (you can read about them here). Overall, I stand by that decision, even though anonymity is not easy...not to mention nearly painful when I have nothing to show for a day's work! Others in the special needs blogging world do not hide, and have found that everyone from their school district administrators to their mothers-in-law offer unsolicited feedback on their blog. It's cathartic, influential...and sometimes, they tell me, restrictive.

Here, a mother shares her disappointment in her family of origin's response to her daily autism reality. For her own, personal reasons, she is not ready to share her feelings with them (at least in this forum). So, I offered her - and other "out" bloggers - a quite, safe house, for when they have something to say that's too raw, too personal or too whatever for their own blogging space. She has a fantastic blog, but I cannot tell you about it here, because she has now joined my circle of trust.

I'm delighted to welcome my first guest blogger. If you are interested in guest posting (anonymously or in all your glory), please email me at whacamolelife@gmail.com...because I really could use the day off. 
-------------------------------------------------------------------
My Family Just Doesn't Get It

Since my husband had to work long hours all weekend anyway, I decided to take the boys on a five-hour journey across state lines to see my family. I'd like to go back to when I made that decision and talk myself out of it.

I know at the time, I was feeling a bit homesick and nostalgic. I missed summers as I knew them. I missed the big extended family gatherings. I missed being on acreage. I can officially say I am now cured for awhile.

I had told the family prior to the visit that the boys are autistic. That the little one has several severe food allergies. They said, "OK." They even seemed to understand a little. It seemed too good to be true. I should've known then that I was walking into a trap.

When we arrived, I got peppered with questions about the boys and autism. Almost everything I said was met with, "but most kids are like that." If I heard that phrase again, I was going to throttle someone. Thankfully as it became less and less apparent that "most kids are like that," they stopped saying it.

They may think I didn't notice the looks, but I did at meals. Yes, I let my younger child get up from the table before everyone else was done eating and go play. Yes, I made him a separate dinner. It was for our collective sanity in the situation. Just be thankful my older child not only tried what you cooked, but ate it all. Normally he'll take a plate full and then decide about five bites in that he in fact doesn't like it. This is only after he's sat and played with it long enough for the plate to get cold and icky.

Newsflash: kids get dirty when they play outside. No, I did not allow my children to play in the pond. There are snapping turtles in it, and the top was covered in algae due to the hot, dry weather. Yes, contrary to what you think, I was watching them ALL day. In the off chance I went to pee (heaven forbid), the cousin whose child they were playing with had an eye on them. Plain old dirt causes black feet too, and I find it funny that I had to wash them to let them in the house for a bath.

I got an eye-opening experience to what a gossip you are, dear aunt. I can only imagine what you will be saying about us since we left. I really don't care. I bent over backwards to try to make sure my boys conformed to your anal ways (even by their OCD standards). It was just too exhausting to stay with you. Next time, we'll either choose someone who remembers what it's like to have children (and central air), or we'll just get a room of our own at the nearest hotel. It will be best for all involved.

When someone didn't remember us, and you reminded them we're "the PA relatives," I am now almost relieved. I am over five glorious hours away from the gossip and drama that you all endure - living within about a 20-mile radius of each other. I am homesick for my family no longer, and I am thankful to my one aunt who was packing a flask and made me a gin with a splash of tonic at the family picnic to make my stay a little more bearable.
Posted by Comments
Labels: , , , ,

Am I Normal?

I wasn't going to post this today, but this ongoing conflict* within the autism community is eating away at me. So I'll make it quick.

I was hanging out with my son today in the kid's nonfiction section at Barnes & Noble, one of his favorite places on earth (well, it really could be the nonfiction section of ANY bookstore).

Leaning innocently next to the almanacs; the "Wacky But True"s; and the good, old "Book of Why," we saw this book: "Are You Normal?" (At least they had the sense to put normal in quotation marks!)

I'm sure that title was someone's seemingly clever way of cheaply and quickly repackaging a bunch of facts from the "humans" section of any of those other books I mentioned above, but National Geographic, REALLY?

This week's online autism community drama aside, "am I normal" is a very real, very poignant question for parents of any "quirky" kid. When they ask it, it can be glorious - because it requires a level of social awareness that might not come naturally. Still, when they ask it, how could your heart not skip a beat?

So my son sees this "Are You Normal?" crap, picks it up, flips through it, and puts it down.
Then he says this:
"Everyone should know there's no such thing as normal.
A lot of people are going to be disappointed."
I hugged him so hard.

-----------------------------------------
*Here are a few thought-provoking posts and comment streams from well-respected blogs that touch on this disturbing divide.
Posted by Comments
Labels: , , , ,
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)