Get your head there....

First of all, I would like you all to just hang in there with me. I am having trouble getting out what I want to here, in a way that will make the impact it needs to. The likely culprit for this, is my own personal feelings and experiences on it. I can reflect inward and on paper alright, and I can get it across to individuals, but addressing on a much larger scale seems to be an issue. All of that aside, I will get it out.

The world is changing. I know it is changing on a very large level, but what I see and affects me the most, are the individual changes of some of my friends. Big decisions are being made, whether by force, tragedy, or pure choice. I see these women questioning themselves. They are questioning whether they are making the right choice. They are wondering if they are strong enough to get through on their own. They are downplaying their own experiences and many are using the all encompassing "it could be worse" excuse. I have become good friends with these women. I love them like sisters. What I see when I talk with them is so much different than what they do. I see strength in their anger. I see them putting themselves behind their children and doing for them what they don't have the strength to do for themselves. Most importantly, I see me. I see the girl I was, struggling to make the right decisions for my kids. The one that questioned everything because I was never "good enough." The one who's mantra through her old marriage was, "He doesn't hit me." That is the kicker. He didn't hit me. Thing is, anything else you could ever imagine he could do, he did. I won't go into detail here because, let's be honest, my point here isn't about what I went through. My point is that I get it. I really do.

I understand feeling helpless. I remember the days when I thought leaving would damage my kids. I remember thinking I was not strong enough to make the moves I needed to and be on my own. I made excuse after excuse not to leave.  He wasn't hitting me. What was the stuff that I was going through, compared to the women who were bleeding and broken? So, he cheated. Technically, we were having issues and I had no sex drive. It was MY fault that he was looking elsewhere. So, he got a little loud with the kids sometimes. Didn't all dad's? (I didn't know much about them then.) He said that my son didn't need any extra help or testing. Who was I to question him? He took care of us. He was the reason we had food and a roof. Every excuse you can think of, I gave him. One day, I woke up and took it back.

It wasn't an easy thing, but I did. I took it back. I reclaimed my life and those of my children. I came to realize that, just because I wasn't bruised from head to toe, didn't mean I wasn't being abused. I came to realize that part of what is so wrong today is that women see those other women who are beaten to a pulp and think, "Well it could be worse..." While it is true that it could be worse, it doesn't make your situation better, or make it any less abusive. I realized that and got the fuck out. I came to know, deep in my core, that I would never be "good enough" for the masses, but I was good enough for myself and my kids. I wasn't afraid to be alone anymore. There is always someone out there with a heart full enough to love someone elses kids, and a brain big enough to see the blessing they are, even when they have issues. You want to know what the real secret to life is. It's having self worth. It is knowing you are worth it and fighting for it.

We are all going to feel not good enough sometimes, but for people like me, who have never been in the eyes of anyone, yeah, it sucks. But, if you are there, look at your kids. Look what you have done and what you have. Look at what you are doing for them. Now, tell me you are wrong, because you aren't. Scary doesn't  mean wrong. It means you are sane. If you didn't worry about it, there would be a problem. What makes you human is the fact that you question it. I worry more about those people that are on their soap boxes professing how right they are. They wanted these things when I was married to the ex.

So for all of you who are struggling for strength, I know its been hard, but i am incredibly experienced in the fucked up. I can't say that I know the pain of any disease or chronic illness you have, but I know the pain of hips and back. I know that they tested me for a ton of things because i had mirroring pain. They want me to have back surgery. None of this is new. The thing about being married to the military is you could have two broken arms and a broken pelvis, and nobody was going to help you: Not your friends, not your husband. Nobody!

It's a really hard lesson to learn to do things on your own, when you have depended on what you have seen as help for years. Its harder when you have chronic pain, depression, or the impression that you don't do anything right. Ok, so he does things around the house, but what does he really do, other than make you feel like crap. Could your own problems be magnifying due to him? You want him to change. You wish he would. Some even do, but is that a bet you want to take? He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy that is going to change his ways. You need to start really making moves, because if I am right, you really will be doing it on your own.

So, you need to find a way because if he doesn't change his ways or escalates, you are the only person that is really gonna be there for your kids, or nobody will, depending on your situation. While it is true that I have Puck here, I was prepared to walk away, pain and all. I was going to do it alone. You have to get your head there. I have had a very stressful life in the past. In all the shit i have seen, one thing I have learned to be true, beyond a doubt. One.

You cannot rely on anyone but yourself, not really. You have to be capable and ready to do it all on your own, because nothing is constant. That means working through the pain and heartache. It means getting the kids to give and take. Mine are pretty high functioning, but we have days when both are going and I am usually alone. But when I am in more pain than usual, they pitch in. That is a hard thing for a mom, but you have to be able to say, I cant do this. I need one of you to do it. You can't depend on him to take care of everything or stop his abuse, because that is what it is. The only thing you can depend on him for, is the same thing you can with anyone. They will care for themselves. Not everybody is selfish, but in a fight or flight situation, where it's you and the kids or him, he is likely to choose him. That is human nature.

Stressing about it and crying over things that he didn't care enough to take care of doesn't help. Go walk your ass to the car, shove the kids in and go to the park. Spend this time making it as easy as you can on everyone. Its' about learning to say no when you have to and giving when you can, but on your own terms. Letting someone take control and handle everything for awhile feels like it is awesome, but it comes with it's own problems. You gave up control. Every time you let him talk to you that way, guilt you into sex, talk to your kids that way, you give him that power. When he makes rude jokes about you, threatens you then takes it back and you accept it, or does whatever the hell he wants despite how you or the kids feel, you give him power. Well, take it back. Take your life back. Take your kids lives back. You put in the time and work through the pain for you and them. Make your life YOURS!

Don't say you can't. Don't let that defeatist attitude take you down. You have withstood more than you think you have already. Just keep your head up and stand tall. From where I am sitting, all the women I love that are going through this stuff are gold. You are all worth it. You are all strong enough and good enough. You question yourselves because you are human. Don't let anyone make you feel less than you are. Don't let them make you feel like your very existence depends on them in your life. Don't let them push you or your children around. Most importantly, don't question your decision to make all of the above stop.  It is abuse. Don't let your head trick you into thinking it isn't. You are amazing women. You have amazing children. You are struggling and that is alright. You will get through. Helen Reddy said it best: "I am woman. Hear me roar!" Take your power. Take your lives. Make of yourself and your journey's what you will, not what others would have you make it. Don't take shit. Don't make excuses. Just do it! Get your heads there. You all can do this. Women have a huge pain threshold, incredible strength and amazing instincts (for the most part). I have heard most of you making noise about making these changes. Now you are. Take them. Run with them. Have fun with them. Don't live in regret or fear. Get out there, change things, and really LIVE!

Late night musings...

So, it is two in the morning, and yet again, I am sitting at the computer with my thoughts all swirling around in my head. This is becoming a more frequent, and honestly, exhausting habit. I am not getting done what needs to be done because my sleep schedules are too far off. There really isn't a fix. Some of what is causing this is that stupid super moon. While I find the pictures amazing, it has been messing with me for days. A fraction of it comes from the pressure changes coming from this atypical storm moving into the area. Personally, I think this last week has been against us. Between the summer solstice, the super moon, the storm system, and the unavoidable schedule deviations, it's just been a recipe for disaster in our house.

We had two fish die on us in three days and sea monkeys that rose from the dead. We had appointments all Wednesday, which messed up our schedule and pushed our river day to Thursday. By that day, the moon's effects were already taking hold of me. I was weepy and out of control. I nearly got into a fight with a lady at walmart, going so far as to shove her groceries off the belt. I managed to get into it with family over a function I was supposed to attend. They think I have commitment issues. What is so irritating is that I don't. What I have is two kids with autism that make sticking to plans nearly impossible. As predicted, I was not able to make it. I have yet to face the firing squad for that, though I have no doubts that it is coming. I had intended to go. The guilt trip about me not going was a good one, but stuff happens.

The day of the family thing, I went to get the kids medicine. They had billed the primary wrong. I fixed that. Turns out the technician at the pharmacy was a complete idiot. That didn't help. Apparently, my son's secondary insurance has issued him a different card, though they failed to mention it to me. I came home in tears, not sure what this would mean for my family or my job, since it is all tied in. I called the pharmacy back with his social asking them to do an eligibility check, which takes a total of two minutes, even for the absolutely challenged. Half an hour later, I had to call back, only to find out they hadn't done it. They did it in a minute with me on the phone, and miracle of miracles, it went through. That was a huge relief, but by the time I had gotten it all straightened out, it was half past the hour that I was to attend.

Given that fact, we chose to take the children out and run them wild. It was a good day and we had a good time, but I was out of sorts, just as I still am. That damned super moon was and is still messing with me. I have been pretty stable since then, though I did sleep really late today. I think I may be coming down with a summer cold. I was relaxing this evening when I realized that the Supreme Court ruling has to come through this week. While I am excited at the prospect of progress, I am also worried. It is the federal case that has me worried. If they overturn Prop 8, I will be excited and it won't change much here, but if they over turn the case that deals with social security, our family will actually see a negative impact. While I want the equal rights, I know that my job is on the line with that one. As long as the federal government does not recognize gay marriage, they don't recognize Puck's income. We struggle as it is, and I worry about it.

That very well could be what has me up so late this evening. I am the one that worries before there is reason to worry. It means that I don't have to worry about it when it does happen and that I am pleasantly surprised when it doesn't. I know that this may sound back assward to most people, but it is how I function. I don't know that it honestly makes a difference, and I know it drives Puck crazy, but I am who I am.

Wow, I read this and realize this might be the first blog in a long time that isn't deep thinking. It is just me relating how our week went and some of my thoughts. That is progress on my part. I was able to write without a deeper meaning or deep reflection. I think that I enjoy that. There were no real hard lessons, other than the fish this week. The funerals for the fish were hard. It is really difficult to watch your baby girl pray over her fish and ask that her sister, who is in heaven, take care of it. Other than that, it was a typical full moon week. We all went nuts. We all had our hard moments where we lost ourselves and our cool. Hopefully, like the last really bad one, it will just magically be better tomorrow, or this morning as it may be. I don't hold many illusions for that, seeing as there are pressure changes and storms rolling in, but I like to think it might. Ever optimistic, when I am not freaking out over what might be anyway! So, I guess I am going to lie down, try to get some sleep, and hope that tomorrow is better than the last few days have been.

Could it be....

*First off, let me state, that I in no way intend for this to set the world afire. I don't honestly know if this will upset people or not, but for me, it was a sort of epiphany into my children's minds.*

I have seen a lot of parents of autistic children say, time and time again, that they show similarities or think that they may have it, but no more so than those with children that are Asperger's or high functioning. I myself have stated this before, and as time goes on, and I work with my children, I see more and more similarities. I am no exception. Some of the more obvious ones for me are my inability to verbally communicate, though my writing always comes out pretty clear. I have major trouble with eye contact. Most people think I am either lying or have been abused, and while I do have my own traumas, I have in fact, always been like that. It is plain uncomfortable to look someone in the eyes. It is invasive for me and I really don't like it. I have major sensory issues, up to and including, hearing, touch, smell, and texture. These are just things that I have on my own.

Today, I learned something about myself. Maybe it is better to say that I realized something I think that I have always known. I guess what you should know about me first, is that I have always been emotional. No, I don't like to verbalize it, but I have been. I cry when I get overstimulated. I lash out, sometimes, for no reason I can see. I am also very, very self aware of my actions. Sometimes it is like looking through a mirror at my own self. I can see I am that way, but I cannot help it. I cannot make decisions or answer questions, even if I know what it is I am needing. I cannot seek help when I am emotional because I don't know how to verbalize it, and sometimes, I feel like writing it down is not enough. It isn't personal enough. I am not trying hard enough to get what I need. If asked to actually put this into verbal words, I wouldn't be able to do that. Not often, but often enough, I do feel like I live inside a bubble and can watch myself as the world sees me, but I can't help myself. We have even named these days after someone we don't like. When I do this, I will tell Puck to hand me my "so and so" shirt. Yeah, self aware!

With all of that being said, these last few days, I have been really moody. I am usually pretty level headed unless I am not awake and step on a lego, or trip over a hanger, or some other stupid thing people do when they are groggy. I feel really low. I feel pretty helpless, like nothing is going right and the situations that we don't like aren't going to change. I feel ineffectual. That has been my baseline for about two days. When I do jump off that base line, watch out! I am like a little ball of anger. The thing is, I see this. I see what I am doing when I am angry like that. I can hear myself. I see what it is doing to those around me. It is clear as day, like looking through a mirror, but I cannot stop myself.

As I am sitting in the car, seething over nothing and driving, a light bulb flashed for me. This must be what my kids go through. Am I actually having meltdown after meltdown and not recognizing it because it is me and not them? Yeah, I really am. HOLY CRAP! Now, I am by no means doing any better than I was yesterday. I still want to lash out at people and I can feel this THING in my stomach that is raging and looking for escape. I know when it does, I won't be able to stop it. My whole body feels like it is tingling hot and I am nearly incapable of pretty much anything. If asked, I don't know what I want. If pushed, I will cry. I am beginning to really understand how awful this is. If they can actually see their actions through their behavior and can't stop themselves... That is terrible. If they feel like a ticking time bomb and there is nowhere to escape to, I don't even have the words. And there is the other thing, they don't either. If they can't describe or tell me how they are doing, like I can't, well, it is a very helpless feeling.

I know the moon is growing full and I can feel it. The shifts affect me and they always have. I hope that, in time, I can work on the things that I need to work on and be able to better control this. There were no OT's or therapies when I was growing up. I was the odd man out. I was the quirky kid that couldn't make friends her own age. I have always had these meltdowns. Does that classify me as having Asperger's? Hell if I know. What it does do for me, is give me a unique perspective into my children's lives, and more importantly, their inner workings. I don't know if it will help, or if we will all just fuel each other, but as the adult, I have to try and get myself under control. That way, when this hits them full force, it doesn't knock our whole family out of orbit for a week.

Forward steps make me smile....

I came over here because I feel it bubbling inside of me like a boiling cauldron. I have no specific reason as to why I was drawn here, but here I am. I suppose today was a mixed bag of ups and downs. Today was a day of learning and consequences. There is not one particular thing that is bothering me or on my mind, but there have been several things in the last two days that were unexpected or just plain disappointing. Their father did not call yesterday, which was Father's Day, but we went to celebrate our father. Essentially, my children were forced to face the glaring reality that their father did not nor has not called in forever. My heart was aching for them. Yesterday, the paperwork also came, officially stating my hours are dropping by over 20 a month. This was expected, but as is often the case, wasn't real to me until I had the notice in hand. I should feel blessed that I even have the job I do, or more specifically, that I get paid to do it, but without the pay, it makes it difficult to feel easy in our lives.

Processing information often takes longer for me, so by the time it hit me, it was seven at night. What do I do when I am upset over something? I clean. When you think clean, you probably think standard scrubbing like the dishes, but when I clean, it is more like I am trying to scour the pain away. While cleaning did exactly what it was supposed to do for me emotionally, it had some added not so bonuses for me. I forget that I have a back condition that isn't going away. Degenerative Disc Disorder does not get cured without surgery. At thirty two, I feel I am too young to take such a drastic step, so I refused. I pushed too hard last night and found myself in excruciating pain by ten. I haven't been to the doctor in months because, for one, I do not like my doctor, and for two, I do not feel another lecture on the benefits of a back surgery that is not a guaranteed fix is in order. Avoiding the doctor has meant leaving myself without any medication for when I do those kinds of things. I would like to say that it doesn't happen often, but I am a mother of two autistic children. Taking it easy, or even remembering that I have this, is often not my first priority. So, I woke up nearly immobile. Fortunately, Puck was here to help.

The day started as most of ours do: With confusion and misunderstanding. We aren't really morning people. We lounged about, chatted with some friends, and just let me rest my back for most of the day. At around three this afternoon, I hobbled into the kitchen for something and happened to glance at the fish tank. One of the fish had died. I turned on the overhead light, praying it was my son's, because my daughter is so incredibly sensitive. No such luck. It was in fact, Alexandria, SS's fish. So, I had to go explain to her that her fish had to go to heaven. I told her that fish get to heaven by swimming through the toilet to the sea. As she is standing there, trying to process what I had just told her, I knew how bad this was for her. She did not cry. For SS, that is a bad sign. Walking solemnly in precession down the hall to the bathroom, I tried to find the words to tell my little girl. I sat in the bathroom with the rest of the family while my daughter silently prayed, hands together in front of her eyes, that God would protect her fish. Then she reached over and sent Alexandria to heaven. When it was done, she just stood there. I finally found some words that I hope helped her to cope. I told her that her sister was surely thankful to have a fish to play with now and that she would watch over Alexandria until SS was there. She asked me how old her sister is now. When I told her she would be ten, she said she was glad she was old enough to do a good job. Now, I know that this is just a fish, but it was a new fish and her first very own pet. This is the same girl to cry over dead flowers. It was heartbreaking. She went back to what she was doing almost immediately, but she blew up at her brother not long after.

Before she lashed out at her brother, my phone rang. My aunt wanting to know if I would be attending a function. I informed her I did not have a sitter. Her response was to come without Puck. I get that this is a family thing, but why does everybody just assume that Puck is there to watch the kids every time they want to have a thing that they don't want my children to attend? And, why do they assume I want to attend myself? Truth be told, I don't want to. These things are always uncomfortable and awkward for me. Somehow, I got roped into it, though. I will likely cancel, but I should have just said I couldn't make it. In the middle of this conversation was when SS melted down. I threw the phone at Puck and went running. We had a talk about being understanding and patient with our siblings. I held her and let her talk it out. Alexandria's death had sunk in further, but is not there yet. I left her to go back to her brother with a better attitude, hoping that the rest of the evening will be better.

Onwards to the kitchen, as it was dinnertime. Here I was looking around for things to make and something caught my eye. There, in magnets, which we use to communicate on harder days, was yet another thing that breaks my heart. My son had used these magnets and spelled out, "Please help me stop stealing, mom. -JJ" Wow, talk about a shout for help. We are working on it and we are trying to get him the help he needs. The magnets are there for that very reason due to the fact that, in our family, communication can be very difficult and uncomfortable. Instead of going to see him about it, I used my own magnets and spelled out, "I am trying. -Mom" Individually, we all had a hard or reflective moment today. It's draining.

We learn something new each day. That is a known statistic. Whether it is useless trivia, something about somebody, or something about ourselves, we all learn at least one thing a day. Today I learned that my family is more amazing than I have imagined. Realistically, I knew that, but some days, it is more evident. My daughter dealt with the death of her first pet with dignity, even if it was killing her inside. During it all, my son reached out and offered to share his fish and genuinely tried to be supportive. Puck helped me out today with everything I needed help with. I was able to rest my back a bit and hopefully allow it to heal some. My son, of his own volition, reached out and asked for help, however odd the means were. My family pulled together and made these two days, that could have gone so differently, bearable. They took potentially emotionally devastating circumstances and created something beautiful and almost magical with them. It has been a couple of rough days. Nothing really changes that. It's the support and forward steps our family made that really matter. Progress in the face of adversity is always something to smile about. And even through the dull ache of my heart and the searing pain in my back, that is exactly what I am doing.

An old blog from November 2006....

Ok, so this really isn't a day in the life of me blog. It's more like how I see life. So someone close to me and I were talking and many things came as revelations for us. First and foremost, age doesn't mean wisdom. It really doesn't. For the two of us, who have seen so much in six, almost seven years,  we find that often. When it comes to the deeper side of life, we just have been through so much. I got rather riled up today, for no other reason, I think, than because I can, and I realized a few things.

 Beauty really isn't about the skin you are prancing around in. That isn't what matters. What matters are those that can see past themselves and really give, because beauty is a gift. There is no point in having it if you aren't giving it away. See, the thing is, I can think of a few people that I know like this, but have you ever met those people that are so shallow and so involved in themselves that you swear, if you cracked them open it would be empty, or worse? Like those people that open their mouths and the void sucks you in because they are so dark and discontent and empty that they spew confusion and discord without even a sound. Yeah, those people. Does it really matter what they look like? Should they really be called beautiful? Because, really, we wear the hell out of our skin! What good does it do to pamper it, if the inside is rotting? Sure, I might choose an apple because it looks good, but I sure as hell am not going to eat it, if it is decaying inside. 

Then, I also was thinking about love and how, we as a society, put it in this little box with instructions. Let me tell you something. A vast majority of people in this world will probably never learn how to really love, not the way that God created it. We use the term unconditionally so loosely now, but is it the truth? And why do they say that we can only be in love with one person? If we have the capacity, then who is wrong: The person who truly loves, or the person who stands by and judges whether someone is loved? I am loved more deeply than I could ever imagine. I love the same way. When someone says love, I think of flames igniting inside me. The compulsion to be or do the best. The willingness to really put yourself behind for that person. The absolute need to see them happy, even if it makes you sad. That is where my soon to be ex and I are. I need to see him happy though I don't think I can do that for him. I need to see Puck do what is right and what is going to make Puck happy even if it means sacrificing myself. Because, what is love if nothing but a huge sacrifice? What is life if we aren't willing or open to a little sadness, hurt, and heartache, just for the chance that we could be truly happy? Because, as much as it hurts, did you ever think that maybe all that comes before is in preparation for the happiness you have always yearned for?

 But, we don't create happiness, so how do we get there.? Well, first and foremost, know who you are. Because, how can we connect when there is nothing in ourselves to connect to? The next part is the easy part. Don't go looking. If you are truly happy with your life, the way you are, happiness will find you. Through everything, isn't that what we all deserve? So, I have decided that when I meet someone shallow, or someone so discontent with themselves they feel the need to project, I am not going to get mad. I'm just going to hope and pray that someday, they can understand love and happiness like I have. I might be a little odd., but nobody said I wasn't But I am happy. At least most days.....

He was just a nice guy....

Have you ever known something as fact, yet still have that truth hit you every once in a while? That was me today. I was minding my own business, when I got a friend request out of nowhere. It happens from time to time and I never accept without looking to see if that person is a known entity to my world or not. Today was no exception. The first thing that I noticed was that we had a mutual friend. The friend that we share is not really a great influence on anyone, especially himself, so immediately, I am skeptical. However, I am not one to dismiss people out of hand based on their associations, and the name was tingling the back of my head, so I proceeded to the second step. I opened the person's album. Yes, I am that person. You do not get access to my page unless I know you are no harm to me or my family. A picture comes up, and I immediately throw my hand over my mouth. Strings of very unpleasant words are flying out of my mouth, all adding up to a very big, "You have got to be shitting me!"

It was an old boyfriend. Now, I am not one to burn bridges, so this is more common than you might think for me, but this guy is from WAY back. We are talking 20 years back. I accept the invitation, because I know he is no harm and honestly, he is a nice guy. (See that phrase. Learn that phrase. "Nice guy" plays heavily on this post.) No sooner had I accepted, there is a message. Alright, so let's talk. No big deal, right? Pleasantries are exchanged and then in comes, "You made a huge impression on me." OH, CRAP! Look, I remember this guy as being nice and his friends as totally wacky. I remember him being there when I really needed someone to be there for me. I remember I went with my mother to his city and I visited him. I remember him coming to town and me sending him to a friend's to visit, then making certain I was not home the rest of the time. Yeah, that's what I got. I was a shallow, shallow girl. So, I told him exactly that. That I remembered a nice guy, his friends, and the support, really hoping that the statement would be enough. There is more niceties and talk of our lives now, and I am thinking, "Oh thank goodness that I got away with that." Then I get hit with, "I cannot believe you made me eat that fish." WHAT!!! Well, now I am in trouble. I don't remember that at all. I mean, he was a nice guy and all, but the particular memories are gone.

"I made you eat fish? EW!" Yeah, I said that. I couldn't lie to him and I couldn't tell him the exact truth either. His next sentence started with, "Yeah, when we first started dating...." WHOAH! We DATED!!! I mean, he's a nice guy, but wasn't really my type in high school. Sure, I remember we talked for hours, and I think we kissed, but dated? Yeah, did I mention I was a shallow, shallow teen. I somehow muddled through this conversation by drawing attention to anyone but me. He finally had to go to wok, and honestly, I was kind of glad. He's a nice guy, but I wasn't sure I could continue to keep him thinking I was so awesome.

Hours later, I am sitting there thinking about this. I really was a shallow, mean teen. I dated some nice guys, but those aren't the ones that stuck. I am not the girl who remembers the people "in between." Now, that kind of hurts me. To see myself as I really was is really hard. I know, and have known for a few years that I wasn't nice then, but today was unreal for me. It was like when people try to see through the fog to the other side. Yeah, I can't. Those memories aren't there. The girl I am today knows that there should be no "in between" people. Everyone is worthy of memory. I didn't do drugs or drink, I just didn't care to retain those memories. I sat here and tried to really remember those times in between major events in my life, but all I remembered was this: They were all nice guys. I was horrible as a teen. I had no cares for anyone else, yet somehow managed to tread my footprints all over other people's lives in positive ways. They remember me as some sort of goddess, but I don't remember them. Not really. Just that they were nice guys. So, sometimes when looking inside, the things you see, they aren't always pretty. Today, I saw myself as a teen. That teen totally bitch slapped me!

On a side note. I have never liked fish. When he first came to my hometown was not when we were first "dating". I have never COOKED fish, but apparently did for him with a lot of garlic. The time he came to visit I sent him away to another friend. I didn't cook him fish. It isn't just my memory that is funky. After 20 years, I might get me and my friend that I sent him to mingled and mixed up too. Yes, I did over think this, and yes, it did bother me that I couldn't remember this. Turns out, I really don't think it was me. Doesn't change the fact that I was a total bitch. All because he was just a nice guy.

He has come so far....

I was recently asked to write about my children's social struggles and issues. I have written plenty on my daughter and her social fall outs. I have written on her being bullied and her inability to maintain long lasting friendships. We have talked about her social/emotional age and what that means for her. There has been speculation on the services in school that could help her, but that they refuse to give. However, I have never brought up my son. The only reasoning I can find for this is that we pulled him out of mainstream, so it is no longer a major factor in his anxiety, nor has it been a big issue this year. So, in the spirit of paying it forward, which I recently promised to do for another friend, I will tell you a little about JJ, my diagnosed Asperger's/ADHD child.

As long as I can remember, he has been very introverted. As a baby, he preferred solitary play, provided the door to his room was open. He did a lot of mimicry and constantly watched things over and over. I could probably still quote The Emperor's New Groove from beginning to end, still to this day. The kids that he played with before he attended school were always younger than him. Intellectually, he was always so freaking smart. He learned fast and beyond what was considered normal. His first words were things like  trapezoid, aquamarine, magenta, enormous, and so forth. He, however, did not speak in full sentences until after he started speech at four years old.

At the same time, he started preschool. His teacher often noted that he preferred to play alone and that when he did play with the other children, he looked lost. He was sent home with school reports numerous times for biting or hitting. The teacher loved him, but he never made any friends. This set a standard for him through the following years. Some years were worse than others. He was constantly in trouble, though the majority of the things he got nailed for were not solely his fault. There was much miscommunication and turmoil for my son in school. When we requested an IEP evaluation be done, they stated that he did not meet the educational gap, despite the diagnosis of an autism spectrum disorder. It was evident he was not thriving and was not getting the help that he needed, even though his teachers were noticing that he could not socialize well. The following are specific incidents of how we have been affected by this.

During kindergarten, I was mid divorce. JJ attended two different schools that year. His first school, he was immediately placed in speech therapy, having been recognized as having a developmental delay of some sort. This was prior to official diagnosis. His teacher spoke to me and told me that he is a different kind of kid. To be honest with him because he was too smart to be lied to. She was very observant. His second teacher that year was a different story. My kindergartner was given detention more times that year, than any of the other years combined. One incident sticks out specifically. It was rest time. He didn't want to rest, but lied down anyway, but got cold. As he was angry about rest time, he got up to get his sweater and yanked it off his chair, causing the chair to fall over on another child. The referral we got home stated that my son got angry and threw the chair. I have always tried to keep open communication with my son. He told the story with tears in his eyes because he understood how bad the report was. Another instance, he was making gifts for people while he was in the after care program. They were understaffed, but we did not realize how badly until, one night, we came down the stairs and found him crying on the couch. He asked me why the kids didn't like him. He asked why he was so different. One of the toughest moments of my life with him. We pulled him immediately.

We moved to a different state and to be honest, had very little issues there. We had minor issues, but the teachers were more observant and on top of it. He still was being noted as not having the ability to make friends. He was still getting in trouble for behaviors, but they worked with him as best they could.

When we got to the state we are in now, it just went downhill. The schools were stubborn, dropping both children's IEP, loosing my son's diagnosis paperwork, and refusing to accept anything that was said. I remember the principal at his first school, would shame him by making him call home every time he did something they didn't like. They knew he had autism, they just didn't care. I remember the second year I dropped him off, I could hear the kids saying things like, "There is the weird kid" and "Oh, stay away from him. He is so creepy, dad." It was heart breaking. His teacher that year threatened that if he continued his "behaviors" he was going to go to juvenile hall, where she used to work. All of these things being said to and around my son by people who should know better. We moved to a different district. It was too much.

The last year he spent mainstreamed was at the school we have had so many issues with SS. There were behavioral issues, like before. Social miscommunication reached a peak. He was suspended 3 times that year. The last time was the last straw. They suspended him four days after said incident, conveniently on the day of sex education. That was a little too big of a coincidence for me. That was when we decided him being home was better for everyone.

This year, he had a few social issues in the two days he went a week. I had issues with the teacher over his sense of "responsibility" because he couldn't remember to turn his completed work in. Yes, I checked to see if he completed it. Those things are part of who he is and part of his autism. We have worked very hard to get him to the place he is now. He has worked hard. I asked him a few weeks ago if it bothered him that he didn't really have any friends. He said. "Why would it. I have other things to do. Besides, the kids all think I am annoying." I think it does bother him, but I think that it isn't because of a loss of someone to talk to or hang out with. I think it is more the loss of somebody that relates to him, and he has yet to find the child or person that does that yet.

The light in all of this mess for the last two years for him came as a shock. We signed him up for the Big Brother/Big Sister program. He was paired with a man whom is literally a rocket scientist. He not only related to him, but from what I understand, this man helped him to at least get to know some of his classmates. He is by no means a peer that he will have as friends forever, but he has been a blessing in a setting where the school sees the problems, has the answers in writing, but doesn't want to put the money in to make my son's life easier, and quite honestly, theirs.

So, there is the social story of JJ. The kid that always takes the blame because he doesn't know better. The one who gets taken advantage of because he wants so badly to be accepted. The child that has grown into an awesome teenager, despite the adversity surrounding him. He is strong, amazingly intelligent, and self aware of his social deficit. While I despise and absolutely do not condone the absolute ignorance of the school systems in recognizing that his autism affects his behavior, therefore he needed an IEP, I think he is where he is partly because of it. We struggle and fight everyday to take steps forward, but all in all, he has come so far....

A beautiful Thing....

I know it has been a week or so since my last entry. Seems that writer's block isn't completely gone, but we make due with what is available to us. I have been busy this last week, getting to know other autism parents, beyond their children. I know what you all are thinking. OMG! She is making friends. I know. I couldn't believe it either. I was pretty sure that I had moved into a super awkward phase where making friends was impossible. I mean, I am super awkward and often say things out of place, or my humor falls short. I recognize this in myself and am trying to be better about it. Some days it works very well, others, not so much. When it comes to social skills, I am often more awkward than either of my children. Yet, somehow, I managed to find a few friends this week. We talk about our kids' huge breakthroughs, but this was a big one for me. I haven't made a friend in probably 7 years. My world is often a lonely place and if it weren't for Puck, I would likely be a very crazy person by now.

We talk about acceptance in and for our children often. Talking about our children is easy compared to talking about ourselves. Kids are supposed to do the wrong things and mess up. They are expected to say things that aren't exactly PC! As parents, we are expected to be proper and have it together. We aren't supposed to talk about anything that could be offensive or taken wrong. It's all supposed to be perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect clothes, and perfect parenting. I think it is an unwritten rule somewhere. I remember my mother calling me the day my son was born and telling me that it was no longer about me, EVER! But, that isn't really true.

If we aren't caring for ourselves, how are we expected to care for our children? I am not talking hygiene, (though that helps) but about our mental state. We often bury ourselves in the therapies, behavioral issues, and all around autism, instead of realizing there has to be a balance. I, for one, am very guilty of that. I forgot what it was like to be just a not so normal woman. I have been trained to NEVER speak of anything that might be misconstrued as something offensive. This week was much needed, for everyone I think.

Ok, so we talked about things that most of us would never speak out loud. So what! It felt good. Really good! I learned things about people that I would have never guessed. I know they learned things about me. I opened up about things I have long since buried, and worked out some of my own personal issues, all thanks to my new friends. I enjoyed myself. I can't even really remember the last time I could actually say that when it wasn't about my kids or family. I let myself be me and the world didn't end.

I am one of those women who is, for the most part, self aware of my own issues. This week, I learned things about myself I didn't know. I can't say that this week changed anyone else's world, but it did mine. I don't know if it will last or if it will fade away and become a favorite memory, but as for now, I am happy to be a part of a group of friends that accept me for who I am. If there is one thing I have learned, time and time again, nothing can last forever. So, you have to enjoy it while it lasts. I intend to do that.

Most will never read this, and that is alright with me. I just needed the world to know, even if they never really know, what this week has meant for me. I was accepted without judgement for who I am. Even my own family has never managed that neat trick. It gives me hope. Hope for myself. Hope for my children. Hope for the world. Because I know, in one tiny part of the world, there is a judgement free zone with absolutely amazing people in it. If there is one, there has to be more. That, in itself, is grounds for hope for mankind and the possibility for change and acceptance. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.