Aspie or Asshole…… you decide???

Some days it just doesn’t pay to get up in the morning.  I find myself waking up in bed with a constant headache most days….. it’s name is “HUSBAND”.

I’m not sure when I first started thinking that he was different, but it was rather early on in the relationship. I hadn’t dated much, so I was pretty naive, but I knew this man wasn’t like most guys.  He was smart and intelligent, but it was more than that…. There was an intensity there for things that he liked.  It wasn’t that he just “liked” cars…. No…… he almost skipped our first date altogether because he became engrossed in a project and he called me to change our movie time 4 different times that evening…. (that right there folks should have been a big red blinking sign!!!)  He wasn’t just passionate about video games….. he played them non-stop. He was immersed in all things science / computers. Boxes of parts, became a whole room of parts…  You can see where this is leading.

It came to the point where it just all became TOO MUCH.  He would come out of his computer room or the garage for dinner, eat, then shut himself off again until bedtime.  It was like this for years.  I will admit, I became bitter and probably hard to live with after time, but that’s not how I thought life or marriage was supposed to go.  Day in and day out, this was our routine.  And there is no changing the routine.  (I know I have many faults of my own, but since this is my blog, we won’t go into them right now.)

If it were only that, it might be easy to accommodate. But it’s not. With routine, comes control. Control of all routines, all parts of the marriage – money, going out, so forth.  With the Control, came the fact of always being right. And by “Always”…. I mean ALWAYS.  There is no discussion, no thought out debate.

Control + Always Being Right = Disaster for the Other Person

In 23 years of being with him, I have never once been “right”.  He will begrudgingly admit that he might be a little mistaken, but not that I’m right. This really has dragged me down over the years. Not that I don’t know that I’m right or wrong, but to never have validation… that’s the part that stings, that eats at a person.

It took our kiddo being diagnosed on the spectrum to really “see” all the quirks & tendencies that the hubs has shown over his lifespan. It took him awhile to admit that he could possibly be on the spectrum too, but he believes that he is (along with confirmation from our ASD behaviorist).

Do I think that all of his actions and behaviors in regards to me has to do because he’s ASD – no.  Actually, I would say…. Hell no!  He’s an adult, he knows right from wrong. He’s functioning enough to know that things hurt or affect me.  Do I think that some of it is because of the ASD and he might not know how to adequately express his feelings, thoughts, actions and emotions in the way that I might be used to…. Yes.   I’ve told him for awhile now – “Just because you’re an Aspie, doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole!”  And I think we all agree on that statement.  But where do I judge one from another?  Where is the line that decides what it is? Who am I to even judge that?  Do I want to accommodate him as much as I can...... yes!  But, do I think he doesn't care to look beyond himself to see how things affect me.... yes, I think that too. 

I fully admit, it’s harder for me to have a spouse on the spectrum than a child on the spectrum. With my little man, I can teach him things, he listens and even though he will argue with God himself, he still understands that he’s learning and trusts me.  My husband, on the other hand, is so stubborn and set in his ways, is that everything is a fight no matter what, true affection is at the bottom of his list, and his passions and interests will always be above everything else. 

It’s hard...it’s never going to change… the routine will always be there… and it will only get worse in old age. 

shoelaces & letting things slide...

I’m a bad mother.  I’m not sure when it started, maybe it was before he was even born.

He has troubles tying his shoes, so each day he slips them on.  We are in such a morning rush to get on the road for a nasty commute that I don’t even pay attention or notice anymore.  They are on his feet, there was not a meltdown of epic proportions and we are out the door.   And…. Yet I know in my heart that it is not the “right thing”, it’s not teaching him.  I don’t even know if it is just because I don’t want the fight at 6am to get out the door, or if I’ve just become too lazy to even care.  I’m tired, he’s tired, it’s done.   He needs to learn independence, self-reliance, handling the world around him, and yet, I’m letting him become reliant on me to get things done, or not even try to tackle any of it.

I guess it stems, to be perfectly honest, from me having depression and being bi-polar.  Some days I can barely even get myself out of bed to get ready, but I’m in charge of getting another human being ready for the day.  Then, to add on autism where he really only wants to do “preferred activities”, I have no patience other than to trudge along and get things done no matter what, no matter who has to do them. The process doesn’t matter, just the end result……. 

But , the process does matter….. he needs to learn things,  I’m not going to be here for him forever.

I’m at a loss, I know what I should do, but don’t have the energy to get it done.  I also know that I need to just stop doing things for him, he is a resourceful capable 9 year old that should be able to do some of these things.  I was forced at the very young age of 4 to survive and carry the load of many household things because my mother was ill.  I cooked, cleaned, did the laundry……. I never wanted that for my child, but in trying to “change the future” and let him be a kid, I’m not teaching him the stuff that needs to be taught…..

I’m a failure…….. and I know it…….. and I don’t have the energy to fix it…..

Sports, Scouting and Second-Guessing..(part 1)

Things haven’t been going the way that they were “planned” as of late.  Actually, that’s a lie. They never go as I had imagined when I first had my boy.

I thought of all of the things I would do with him once he was bigger…. Little League, Cub Scouts, School fun days, riding his bike, playdates with friends.  I had this picture in my mind.  I think we all get this picture once our children are born, it’s natural to think of the future fun.

But that was then……… this is now. I have a son that would rather read than play, has no real friends and is so afraid of failing -  so he doesn’t want to even try.... BUT he also wants to do what the other kids are doing. He wants to be involved in all that they do. 

So, in Kindergarten he asked me if he could play baseball.  He had seen the kids out practicing in the field behind his school. I was a bit unsure, but figured that all of the kids would be about on the same level, since they were all so little.  Boy was I wrong!  I had no idea that most of them started T-ball at 3 years old.  He was already behind the curve, but there were a few others, so his differences did not stand out too much.  It was hard to watch, but he made progress….. I made progress in not caring what other’s thought.  We still didn’t have a diagnosis, but I knew something was just “off”.

Our little baseball player

The next year he begged me to play again. By this time we had received the diagnosis of autism. I figured we would try and if he didn’t last the season, well, then we wouldn’t worry about it. He lasted the season, but even though he didn’t notice…… I did…… the differences were showing to the other kids. They were picking up on his quirks and making fun of him.  I played momma bear and tried to teach them to play nicely with each other, no matter who they were dealing with.  Once again, he was happy and once again, I was miserable. I was happy that he hadn’t seen the cruelness of kids, but hurt that when he finally did notice, that he would see it was directed at him.

I was happy that the next year, he never mentioned baseball again. I asked him about signing up, just in case, but he declined. I was thrilled when he didn’t want to.  I figured that he had just been bored in the outfield and that sports were just not his bag.

I was wrong once again. You would think that I would get used to this, but it still amazes me each time I’m wrong!  He piped up at the end of summer that the kids at school were going to be playing soccer and that he thought he would be a great soccer player. AHHHHHH!!!  I had hoped that we were done with sports, but alas…..  So I signed him up with the rec department with much trepidation. I pulled aside one of the board members that looked like a grandmotherly type during their evaluations, told her of my plight and asked if she could put him on a team with a coach who would be understanding and supportive. She was an answer to prayer. He had a great coach that never left him out.  He taught the kids to value one another and that everyone had different skills and traits.  It is amazing what a good coach can do.  He loved it, I loved the team and even though I could see the differences, we made it through a great season. Yippee!

I'm not sure if he is excited enough!

Fast forward to the next season……… He asked, I signed him up, I once again had a quick chat with the same board member…….. and lo and behold…….. we got a crappy coach!  The kids made fun of him, one kid actually hit him in the face with a ball on purpose (kid & parent were mad that he was punished by another coach that saw it) and he was only put in for a couple of minutes each game because he wasn’t a “star player”.  Many of us parents went to this coach about his attitude and behavior…… but it didn’t really change.  He still had fun, and it was nice to meet a great group of parents .  Now being 8, I could see so many differences, but we were better at working through them…… we were both learning.

Now I’m scared.  He asked me a few months ago to play baseball again.  He’s been out of playing for 2 years. The other kids have not. They have grown and matured, practiced, learned the game and built up skills…….. he has not.  The stark reality hit me the other day at his first practice.  (Oh, and his coach starts practice before I even get out of work, so we can’t make it, but don’t even get me started on that!)  While he was remembering all of the basics of throwing, catching, and hitting, the other kids were having a real game!  It was heartbreaking.  At Opening Day this past Saturday, the kids were grouping together, milling about, playing …. And he was hiding behind  a book. He wanted to be there, but didn’t know how to interact. I tried to engage the kids with him, but to no avail.  I so don’t want to watch this season. His coach is unaccommodating…….. it is hard. I fear most of all that this will be the year he sees the differences……….. and for the hurt that will come along with that. 

You might think that by now I would be able to overcome my concerns and worry about sports after these years, he’s 9 already, but……. I can’t, I may never, I’m just too scared for my little boy.

And yes..... I know I should happy that he can participate at all, many kids can't at all...... and I do know this in my heart, and I am happy that he can participate, it just hurts....... and I do feel the hurt for my friends who can't experience this at all..... that would like for their kiddos to be able to just try sports.... I do understand, but it doesn't change the hurt in my heart for my sweet baby boy.

Opening Day....... before it got crazy

I was wrong...

Sometimes when you first start on a new adventure, you are giddy with excitement and energy, hyped up on internet “facts” and “tips”, but all with a little ball in your stomach of trepidation, which you are too busy to listen to.

You make assumptions of what life will be like in the future, how you are going to do great things, accomplish multiple goals and gather up all of your friends to show them the “truth”……

And then…… actual life hits you square in the head. 

What in the hell were you thinking?

All of the grandiose dreams litter the path that you are trampling on, trudging on step by step, second guessing everything that you are doing.

Then,  hopefully you find others on your journey. They mix their ideas with your ideas. You do more research, talk to different people with different viewpoints.  They help shape yours to a more concrete actual view of this path that you are on.  You learn, you grow. The more that you lose your initial energy high, the more you feel comfortable in your own pace of the journey.

Once things settle down, you realize what you once believed is no longer your truth. You’ve refined it through fire and stress.  What you might have been so enthusiastic about at the beginning, you might actually find you no longer agree with, you can’t get behind anymore.

That’s how I feel about Autism Speaks.  I was wrong. I thought that lighting up blue was the answer. I thought that raising my voice for them would help my son, help others that are along our path. 

I was wrong – for him, for my friends, for their kids, for the autistic adults I have become friends with, and for all of those that I may never know…….. I was wrong. 

I think that my reasons are still valid, still strong. (my last post - years ago) I want acceptance for everyone….. we NEED acceptance for everyone.  But I can no longer follow their path….. for it doesn’t really speak for autistics and their families.

Imagine – Autism Speaks Doesn’t Listen……. Only Speaks.

And what do we teach our children? “ Listening Ears”……… and yet, they only Speak.

But they DON’T speak for my family any longer.

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If you would like to know more about the “why”, please go read a wonderful blogger at The Diary of a Mom - she said it so much better than I ever could!  – click    here     and    here

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What's so special about Special Ed?

“We shouldn’t be under the Special Ed department!”

Yes, those words stung…… actually, they still do months later.  If you think a kid said this, you would be wrong, it was a parent.  A “smart” parent….. a GATE parent.  In our district the Gifted And Talented Education program is under the Special Ed department.

In their eyes……

GATE = different but MORE

Special Ed = different but LESS

I tried to explain to them that the goal in Special Education / GATE really should be giving kids access to what they need to succeed…. Special programs to stimulate their learning, Special unique opportunities outside the school setting to focus on education , Special modifications to ensure that their minds are broadened intellectually.  Hence…….. Special Ed

When I discussed this with them, you would have thought that they were afraid that their special snowflake would “catch” something from their being “lumped in with the others”……. Yes, that’s how he phrased it……. “the others”.

Those words hit straight to the heart……

He and so many other parents think that very same way….. Special Ed is something said in whispers, kept in secret, not discussed.  But show me a GATE parent that doesn’t scream out that their kid “made it”!

And the kicker…….. he knows my child…… he’s known him for a few years.  He has said wonderful things about my kid and yet he says this to me during a meeting.  My eyes stung holding back the tears….. luckily his wife stopped him before he said anymore….. but what more could he have said that his tone and attitude hadn’t told me already.

I defiantly told him that …Special Ed is not less… uniquely, my child is part of both worlds… GATE and Autism…….. and that truly made him Special!

AND tell me this…….

Why do we have to struggle for accommodations and services?

Why do we have to go to meeting after meeting, fighting for our child, feeling horrible each time we come out?

Why is it just commonplace to have them actually follow the IEP……. So much so that we have tons of meme’s circling the internet with our battle cry?

It just SHOULDN’T be that way……..not at all.    But it is, sadly, so many parents I know go through this struggle year after year to “prove” to the district that our children are worth it….. that they should get the opportunity to learn just like “other” kids!

But, no matter what I said, it hurt.  It hurt for my kid.  It hurt for all of my friends and their kiddos that are looked on as different, but less.  It hurt as a part of society that sees this as “their truth”.  It hurt to know that in this day and age that if this were about gender or race, that people would be outraged, their hands in the air fighting…… but who’s fighting for our kids’ rights? For people to see them as whole, wonderful loving human beings that need acceptance. 

So when will “Special” stop being a bad word?  Let us come out of the shadows and be treated just like any “other” parents.

When will people realize that ALL kids are special?

Mohawk, fauxhawk…. or no-hawk???

As any autism parent knows – haircuts can be a *nightmare*, *hellish*, *horrific*, *scream inducing, panic attacking* (and that’s just me – not the kid!) …… whichever word works for you .

Well, except my husband – but that part of the story will come later…

So, for the past 7 years, I have armed myself like a solider going into battle - with a portable DVD player with his favorite movie, my iphone so that he can play games, and an extra dose of patience for momma.  I have prepared him multiple times with what is going to happen, I have let him pick out how he wants his hair from pictures on the ipad and reminded him of the beloved balloon he will get at the end as a reward for not going ape-shit….. (ok, that’s not the term I use with him – but go with it – you know the drill!)

As the years have passed, he has gotten better with the routine of it and looks forward to playing with their nasty germ-ridden duplos.  He likes the girls and finally feels comfortable at our local haircut place. Woo – hoo!!!  He still isn’t all that happy with putting on the cape or having them wet down his hair, but playing Angry Birds has kept his meltdowns in check.

Now – insert DAD!  You know, the guy that knows all about our struggles and processes to get said haircut – but has yet to experience it firsthand. Just write "newbie" on his forehead.

He decides that he needs to get his own haircut, so, low & behold, he is going to bring along the boy.  Since I’m at the grocery store (don’t be jealous that I was solo on my trip), he thinks that Little Man needs his haircut too, since it is past his eyes.  He asks the boy how he wants his hair cut. A boy in class has a “fauxhawk”, but since neither of them knows what that means, Little Man tells my husband “Mohawk”!  Fine with dad! Without further ado, my husband drives to a NEW hair salon in town. In the parking lot kiddo freaks out and tells him that this is NOT the place! On the fly my husband tells him “but this is the only place that cuts mohawks!”  They proceed to give him a super long, super crooked no spike Mohawk.  And you know what happened while they were doing this………..absolutely fucking NOTHING!  That’s right folks…….. no iphone, no movie, no meltdowns or tears!!!  FUCKING BITCH! 

Hubs now thinks that I have made this shit up all these crappy-ass years.  Beginner’s luck asshole!

In the days that followed he would not spike his hair at all.  I think he did it twice. My mother called it a no-hawk.  Three weeks later he begged me to get rid of it because he didn’t like it.  I am happy to report that his next haircut did go well (thank you iphone). He has come a long way.  I’m making hubs take him next time and pray that a meltdown ensues…..just kidding (really, but not really).

I envy...

I envy……….

I envy the people who can afford vacations – how nice must it be to get a break a few times a year to recharge your batteries, have a change of scenery…. Some place to just get away………..

I envy the people who don’t have to deal with the school day in and day out about their child’s behavior – how nice must it be just to pick up their kids and find out how great a day they had……..instead of hearing how their child hit or acted impulsively and just broke down crying.

I envy the people who get invited to parties and events – how nice must it be to interact with others in a festive atmosphere ……..instead of being left out only to hear about it later when feelings are hurt.

I envy the people who don’t have others talk about their kids and always look at them as “the bad kid” or the one who doesn’t act “properly” – how nice must it be to not be looked at and judged.

I envy the people who don’t have to clean poop off of their walls, bathroom, clothes and hide it from the world – how nice must it be to not deal with accidents from a grown boy.

I envy the people who have physical help and support – how nice must it be to not feel alone in the struggle.

I envy………I know I shouldn’t, but I do and that makes me feel worse and then I feel guilty……...along with the envy.

below rock bottom

So - I’m not sure what is below “rock bottom”, but I think I’m about to find out. 

Little Man has been having problems at his summer program.  He just can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.  He feels the need to react to other kids and disagreements by hitting.  I can’t tell you how many times I have gone over and over it…….. I really can’t – I’ve completely lost track in the past 5 years!  How can he not get this through his thick skull?!?!?  He KNOWS he will be in trouble, no matter who started it if he uses his hands.  He just acts impulsively and just lashes out when he feels he has been wronged.  The other kids know that, which just makes it worse….. they  try to get him to react – but his actions get him into trouble.

I’m so frustrated – beyond words – that I just want to cry. 

I don’t want my child to hit.  I don’t want my child to be looked at in a “bad light”.  I don’t want to get the phone calls or the messages that he can’t handle himself and that I have to leave work to pick him up. 

I can’t afford that – emotionally, mentally, financially………..

I want a break, I need a break…….and yet - I can’t afford a break from all of this………This is a full time job that I deal with daily.  I’m tired, so very tired of it all.

The trouble with shoelaces, blogs & why I will never get an Olympic Gold Medal

So – you know how you are watching the Olympics and that one figure skater just makes an incredible leap……..and then falls right on her ass?  Well, that would be me.  Well, with one exception – she gets up off the ice and keeps going.  Me – not so much!  I would be that one skater that would sit there, crying into my hands, ugly tears……. until someone came out and escorted me off the ice.  Yup - THAT’s me!

That brings us to the shoelaces…… no, really, it does!  My Little Man just turned 8.  He is totally afraid of learning to tie his shoes.  I mean, like he refuses to even touch them, try to tie them…….. get anywhere near them without just slipping them on.  As soon as he tries to do it, he gets one little step wrong, or it doesn’t work exactly right – and BAM – tears start flowing and he throws a fit and won’t try again.  I can’t figure out how to get him to do it……….so the kid still doesn’t tie them.

Yeah – that getting back up on the horse really doesn’t happen around my house!

Finally that brings us to this little blog right here.  I’m afraid of rejection I guess.  I want approval – well who in the hell doesn’t???  BUT, I’m so afraid of rejection or failing, that I’ve never even told my family about this page.  Actually, I’ve told almost no one about it.  Making it worse, I’m too afraid to “post” anything because it might not be funny enough or good enough – so I let things languish in my head and saved folder.  Cyclical – yes – hell yes – you betcha………. But that doesn’t mean that the feelings aren’t real and scary.

So, here’s my getting my ass off of the ice – medal be damned.  Although, maybe I could get a medal in “Ice Sitting”!

look for the orange

“Matthew” 

Look for the orange shirt, I tell myself silently……find the orange………I’m yelling now - ”Matthew……Matthew”………look for the orange (tears falling – uncalled – unwanted – unbidden – silently – slowly – tears falling on my cheek)    “MATTHEW”

My heart is alternating between stopping and pounding too fast in my chest…….this is the first time that I have opened up and let him “be a boy” as my husband has wanted me to – against my inner fight. He tells me to “leave my helicopter blades at home”.  This is our first Mom and Son Cub Scout camping trip. Yes, my son does need more independence…yes, I probably hover a whole lot more than I should……but he also has autism.  He is "high functioning" (whatever that means), so he understands what I tell him, but he doesn’t fully comprehend danger in the same way, nothing scares him.

“MATTHEW”….. “MATTHEW” …..  I’m screaming – there are places to fall where I couldn’t get to him, places to hide. There is poison oak over in those bushes…….there is a major drop off to a stream below…. find the orange……… look for the orange …. find the orange……… look for the orange…

There he was – blonde little head, bobbing up and down, arms flapping, waiting by the two metal poles.  He knew not to go out past the boundary line.  He makes mental notes of where things change.   I had told him not to leave our circle of cabins.

I was too upset to be mad at him……. Even though that was there too.  I reminded him, probably too sternly to not venture out without someone – don’t run off into the woods.

He was ready to go again, to go see what he could see……I was ready to drop on the ground, I couldn’t breathe, ready to curl up in a ball and cry……but I had to push on……I had to keep looking for the orange – running ahead of me.

(Ed note - this was written awhile back, but I was too afraid to post - too afraid to finish it... it's really still not finished.......I'm still looking for that orange everyday - scared to death - struggling with anxiety and helicopter blades swirling above my head........)

I'm not ready - (is this what they call "functioning"?!?!?))

I’m not ready.  After reading THIS…….I’m definitely not ready. 

I’ve thought of the future.  I really have.  It’s fuzzy and vague, but it’s a general idea of “it will be ok” kind of thing.  I see his father.  He is an Aspie.  He can semi function in society at large.  But when I think about it more………I’m the one that is functioning, keeping us all together – afloat. 

The Hubs - It takes him forever, but he gets himself up, gets ready for work and gets himself out of the house…….mostly.  On the days he doesn’t…..well, he calls in sick or a vacation day. He has ample time, so he uses it often. If I were his boss, I would have already fired him. This has been happening for years, it’s not new, it was his routine for school too.

He does not cook dinner – it’s not in his “routine”. If I am not home for some reason with Little Man, he will wait hours for me to bring home food and starve, then to cook something for himself and go out and pick something up in a drive-thru. The second I come home, he is hungry, even though he might have been home for hours.  There is a big white box in the kitchen…..a full pantry…..he could start dinner. 

He could help with homework.  He is SUPER smart!  He is actually one of the smartest people I know.  I think he could do second grade math.  But as I am struggling to make dinner (“yummy, home-made dinner from scratch” since nothing else is good enough for him) he is sitting watching tv.   

THIS AND SO MUCH MORE………..  I’m thinking – this is NOT functioning……how is he going to teach my son how to function……I’m NOT READY – maybe ready to cry – but not ready for the future!

facing the music

First there was this:

AWESOME PROGRESS!!! Little Man at his substitute daycare ASKED TWICE yesterday if he could find a quiet spot so that he could just take a break from the noise and movement......ASKED, no getting upset, no hitting, no meltdowns!!! WOOO HOOO - way to go Bubba! This is progress people! I might not have the same issues as you have with your kids - and sometimes it's hard to hear all the things that your kids can do without a second thought, but damn it, we are celebrating every single milestone, whenever we get to it, small steps at our own time! Autism Be Damned

And then there was this……..
                Eating my words - I guess this morning was hard, but if he did it, he can do it again.
                Two steps forward & one step back is still moving.

Which turned to tears……….mine

This shit is hard.

It seems like each day I cringe when I pull into the parking lot – hopeful, but with trepidation.  I want to run in and out – not to be stopped by a teacher, so as not to be told of the bad news.  To not be waved into the office once again to be told “your son did this again……”, “he can’t keep his hands to himself”, “he’s impulsive” or whatever the reason du jour is.  Some days I just can’t take it.  I want to run and hide.  To let someone else pick him up.   I miss him so much during the day, but feel guilty when it’s time to pick him up that I don’t want to hear it “once again”……………….  Some teachers are nice about it.  They understand he acts out usually due to some other behavior or a reaction of something else.  They get it.  Other’s don’t care to get it and don’t see him being bullied or someone being mean to him, so he reacts back.  He is impulsive and yes, he needs to be better at handling his emotions, but there is a whole picture to it – open your eyes people!

So, once again, I’m counting down the hours until pick up, knowing that I’m scared to go in and face the music.

 

I don't wanna...........

I have decided that I don't want to.......

OK - to be more specific - I don't want to HAVE to learn about autism, I don't want to HAVE to learn about IEP's, I don't want to HAVE to tell my cute little boy that he has high functioning autism, I don't want to HAVE to tell my friends why he is not behaving as their "perfect little angels" are.

For some parents, it is a relief to have the diagnosis - and it can be. But with just being diagnosed, there is an information overload happening and the whirlwind of thoughts/emotions/things to do gets worse. It's not like I already didn't have a full-time job, parenting, cooking, cleaning, the works.........now add "investigator, advocate,..........well, the list just goes on and on.

I'm tired, I'm worn out and to HAVE to do this stuff while getting no help and support - just, well, Sucks!

Friendship....I just don't fit in....

I have a problem that has to do with myself & LM in the future. I am actually fearful to ask this, but can’t get it out of my head. I have come to the realization that I don’t fit in anywhere. I never have – not in school, not in church, not in the workplace. No group really wanted me or included me. From time to time in my life I had some fringe invitations or relationships, but was never fully embraced.

My very few friends have other best friends, leaving me without one of my own. (I’m truly happy for them, don’t get me wrong, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t envious.) I am almost 39 years old, and have yet to have a relationship where I wasn’t the “odd man out”. I’m “friends” with a few people, but all in all, they are “friends” of other “friends”. Not that I don’t cherish them (which I do and am grateful for them) or that type of relationship, but it’s just not the same.
I don’t know what I do / have done that has left me this way. I’m not sure how to change things for the future. I have been told to not let it bother me, but I crave friendship. I’ve been hurt so many times in the past, that I am a little gun shy, but I still want a friend(s). I need a friend(s) to do things with, talk to, go out and have fun with. I just don’t know how to get that.

Most importantly, if I can’t figure this out, how am I supposed to teach my son - who has high-functioning autism - that already struggles with social issues - how to make friends??? How am I supposed to help him navigate waters that I can’t figure out myself? How do I show him the cues from others to form true friendships when apparently I can’t see them myself? I am at a total loss.

Why Light it up Blue???

Why we lit it up blue for Autism Awareness……….

We just received our diagnosis exactly two months ago to the day. Most would ask, why would you be so vigilant already, why would you already be active……….to be perfectly honest, I am still shell-shocked, I am still dealing with the grief, frustration, anger, sadness……….loneliness that I feel on this journey, but I have – HAVE - to remember this is going to be a long road ahead.

He knows that he has a new aide at school, so he knows something is up. I told him that Papa & him think differently – that they are so super smart, so talented, so wonderful, and that thinking differently was ok. (Thanks to all of the mommy bloggers out there for the helping words to explain!) He loves his papa, so if it is good enough for him, then it’s good enough for my boy.

It was hard to even ask to “light it up blue”……….I mean, how hard is it to ask for a blue light bulb….but yet, I’ve come to small terms with it – my husband has not. I have no idea, but maybe to him, it is like a beacon telling everyone “hey – this house has autism!”……….it still has a stigma – I so wish it didn’t.

That little blue light for me reminds me that I have to help my sweet little boy get past the stigma and make his way through the world. There is much work to be done – “blue – I will fight – for my boy and all of the other children out there”. I KNOW that so many others have fought the fight before us to get us where we are now; there are not enough words of thanks. But we now take up the mantle for the others and ones to come………for the 1 in 88…..for my little one……..for his future friends/classmates/loves……maybe even for his future wife – so she won’t have to struggle as much as I have……

And with this face…………how could you not???

Time Flies.........then it hits you straight in the head!

So so much has happened since my last post - some would call it "life", I would like to call it so much more than that...

hell, doctor's appointments, diagnosis center, kindergarten,
after-school care, IEP meetings, meltdowns, autism labels,
tears, sadness, grief, feelings of being alone...

OR - (if you were so inclined to remember the positive)

laughs, smiles, hugs, baseball games/practices, holidays...

So - yeah - LIFE!