Tawdry quirk curators
// January 4th, 2012 // 1 Comment » // aspergers, sleep
Aspie Caveman has developed a 48-hour sleep schedule. He spends 32 hours awake, followed by 16 hours of hibernation.
Sometimes, I understand his thought processes and logic. This is not one of those times.
// September 16th, 2011 // 5 Comments » // people
Parents of adult Aspies know what the parents of small children on the spectrum don’t want to know. After spending twelve years of school trying to not be Autistic and learning to tolerate the NT world, the NT world is unwilling to tolerate our young adults.
We recognize that our spectrum children have grown into absolutely amazing adults. When young adult Aspies get together, they are more social than any NT out there. They joke, chat and debate for hours on end. Years of perseveration has filled their brains with more details than a Jeopardy champion.
The real world doesn’t appreciate our children. They thoughtlessly stomp on the efforts of our children to integrate in their confusing, cruel and deceitful communities. Our children are punished for honesty in a world that rewards superficial deception.
If I could, I would create a safe place for adult Aspies to live. Not a gated jail like the compassionless want for Knoxville’s homeless, but a commune within the city. Uncle Ernie’s camp without the pedophilia and homicide. A place where we return to the days when southerners took pride in their eccentricities instead of medically altering everyone to look and act identically.
Lacking the bottomless funds to create the world I want, I work with the world I have. My life is AspieTown. I quietly watch my adult Aspie laughing with his friends. I use my angry eyes to deflect the cruelty of those who can’t look beyond the quirks to appreciate the gifts that spectrum children give to those who allow them into their lives.
Sometimes the gifts are gag gifts, but every day is a holiday in AspieTown.
// August 13th, 2011 // 3 Comments » // aspergers
“You need to get him declared permanently disabled.”
Monday, he will turn 21.
// October 5th, 2010 // No Comments » // aspergers
Day 1: personal jet packs
Day 2: ninjas
Day 3: Lord of the Rings
Day 4: that time you bumped your knee
Day 5: flying cars
Day 6:Venture Brothers characters
Day 7: owning your own island
Each conversation should be discussed in complete detail with careful attention to the most obscure, never considered aspects. Conversations should fill every waking moment of the day, including, but not limited to, when your potential audience is going potty, talking on the phone and trying to sleep. When conversations are interrupted for short breaks, start the conversation at the beginning again. If the interruption lasts more than an hour, begin mid-sentence, mid-syllable. Your audience can’t be taken seriously when they beg you to change the topic. This is just their way of encouraging your thoughtful analysis of the day’s topic. If you forget the new day’s topic, continue the previous day’s conversation. There is always something new to say.
// April 24th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // aspergers
Me: “Why didn’t Tommy get the poo out of the snake’s tank?”
Doug: “I don’t think he sees it.”
Me: “It’s WHITE.”
Doug: “He can’t see it Cathy.”
// February 21st, 2010 // No Comments » // aspergers
I understand some of the logic behind the elimination of an Asperger’s diagnosis. Autism is a spectrum disorder and the symptoms and severity don’t just vary from person to person. It varies over the course of a lifetime. Therapies, medications and techniques to help people on the spectrum are equally diverse and effective. A diagnosis of Autism Spectrum instead of one of several choices seems like a logical choice if you need to simplify insurance, records and explanations. This is a good choice for everyone who doesn’t want to understand the Autism Spectrum.
I always say that Tommy has Autism when I first meet someone. If they are genuinely interested in hearing more, I explain Asperger’s. If I meet someone who is in the special needs community, I start out saying Asperger’s. People in the special needs community are usually more interested in information and experiences than people who aren’t directly affected by someone who is labeled with a diagnosis or three. We know that a label doesn’t define a person and need a lot more information.
Asperger’s is more descriptive than Autism. It’s like the difference between saying dog and saying Corgi. (I’m not calling people dogs. Don’t get your undies in a twist.) If you are a Doctor or a parent, wouldn’t you want the best description available to help you narrow your focus on how to help your child? The “no diagnostic tool to differentiate between Autism and Asperger’s” seems like a problem that could be overcome. The difference is observable and should be measurable by quality and quantity of interactions versus disengagement from environment. As soon as the only diagnosis is Autism Spectrum, we return to having to constantly explain our children because they don’t fit someone’s preconceived notion of Autism.
Parents don’t prefer the diagnosis of Asperger’s because it sounds less permanent than Autism. We embrace the Autism Spectrum. We just like accuracy. Autism is accurate. Asperger’s is MORE accurate.
// January 4th, 2010 // 1 Comment » // aspergers, teenagers
Coupons are all the rage right now. Gone are the days that coupons were only something poor people used to save a few pennies. Now, coupons are considered smart. I think coupons are groovy, but I am not a member of the coupon cult. First, I am capable of buying something without a coupon. I am sorry if it’s wasteful, but if I had to wait for a coupon to have fresh fruits in the house, we would all have scurvy. Second, no matter how great the deal is, I’m not buying things we don’t need. I recognize that we could have stockpiles of disposable razors, diapers and diet foods, but even if it’s free, we don’t NEED them.
“Look at this great ___ coupon!”
“Umm, you don’t need ___.”
“But it’s a dollar off.”
“You can save ten dollars if you don’t buy ___.”
“No. We waste a dollar if we don’t use this coupon.”
This conversation can go on forever with no progress. I believe in choosing your battles and I accept that the world is different through the eyes of Aspergers. I just find this particular battle like nails on a chalkboard. Either the Aspies in my life need to learn to say no to a coupon or I need to be assimilated by the coupon Borg. Neither of us is giving up without endlessly ridiculous conversations that promise to annoy everyone around us.
“You did WHAT?”
“We drove through the drive-thru window several times because they only allowed one coupon per visit.”
“That’s not multiple visits. You never left the property.”
“No. We followed the rules. They made us quit though.”
“You got kicked out of a fast food drive-thru?”
“I guess so.”
“Weren’t you embarrassed?”
“Why? What was embarrassing about that?”
// October 28th, 2009 // No Comments » // aspergers, parenting, school
While I don’t question that Tommy was ready to leave high school when he graduated, I am now firmly convinced that he needed something after graduation and before any attempts at college. He needed a year of being taught “how” to be a student. Because of the Asperger lenses that filter his view of life, Tommy thinks that just showing up for class is enough. It worked in high school. He has forgotten the teacher and aide who constantly hovered over him and nudged him about doing assignments. He has forgotten his family sitting at the table with him for hours and hours to get projects completed. All he remembers is showing up for class and absorbing enough to stumble his way through tests.
He can’t keep track of assignments and due dates. He misses small details in class discussions that turn out to be vitally important. He doesn’t feel an urgency to get assignments completed. He doesn’t feel any urgency at all. He just shows up. There is no drive, no interest and no connection. What he lacks in motivation, he makes up for in anxiety. The blank disinterest in exhibiting any desire to do well doesn’t begin to hide the stress and misery he is experiencing. My pushing him to try harder is part of his misery.
Other Aspie parents have already experienced this. Some reacted by deciding to take one single college class a semester until they find success. Some reacted by putting college aside and focusing on employment. Some reacted by going on a quest to find the special interest that sparks a fire inside their child. We all want the same thing. We want our extremely bright children to be happy, functional adults. Unfortunately, that which makes them happy, hinders their opportunities to be successful.
I don’t want to keep fighting college with a child who is content with C’s and hope that something will eventually interest him enough to ignite his engines. I am equally unwilling to let him settle in at his current level of immaturity. Sometimes, it all feels pointless. After I am gone, nobody will push him to step out of his comfort zone and interact with the world. So, I search. I search for a new path. The longer I stand still, the deeper I sink into a hole that will slow down Tommy’s journey. Now, how do we get past this brick wall?
// September 24th, 2009 // 3 Comments » // aspergers, preschoolers, school, teenagers
I gave Tommy some suggestions on making his politics paper’s topic more substantial. He went to his grandfather’s and they “discussed” the paper. Tommy called me and whined for an hour that he can’t write a paper without offending someone. I told him that it doesn’t matter what his topic is as long as he has some good stats to back up his argument. I even offered to get his Uncle in on a conference call so that he could hear opposing arguments and make his own choices. Progress made trying to convince Tommy to take a chance and write something = zero.
Noah‘s baby came home on a Friday and it was what people politely call a colicky baby. If you put the doll down, it cried. Noah held the doll constantly. The only time he couldn’t immediately care for the doll was the time his little brother ran all over the house, just out of reach, with the doll’s diaper clutched tightly in his hands. “Mooom, Evan won’t give me the diaper.” Sometime around midnight, Noah fell asleep and so did the doll. The doll never woke. We tried charging the doll, but still, nothing. I wondered if the school was viciously sending home SIDS dolls, but suspected that the doll had been programmed incorrectly. Monday the teacher confirmed that all of the dolls had been mis-programmed. Didn’t we learn anything from Westworld?
Evan came home from preschool with a fever today. I would buy him a pair of pink lace panties if it would make him feel better.
// August 31st, 2009 // No Comments » // aspergers, school, teenagers
Today was Tommy’s first day at Pellissippi State. We’re treating it like his freshman year of college, even though he spent a year at LMU. Well, Tommy is treating it like his freshman year. Everyone else in the family is prepared for one very exhausting semester of push, push, pushing Tommy to act like a student. Last year, Tommy ended up hiding in his dorm room all day and playing video games all night with the other not-going-to-class freshmen. It was a very expensive year of the summer camp Tommy never experienced. Tommy made friends and had a great time. I saved a message in my phone from one of the many days when I sent him a message to check on him. “I’m good. Normal. Happy.” He was happy because he was hiding in his room instead of going to class. This summer, he spent an entire day at Vocational Rehabilitation for aptitude/career testing. The results said he would be good at picking locks. Umm, I don’t think so. So, we’re trying college again with a much, much shorter umbilical cord.
During registration, Tommy constantly pointed out the students that he recognized from his high school. After freshman orientation, he told me a dozen things that his guide had told him about the school. When we met with disability services, baby geese waddled by the office window. All last week, we talked about being a good student. Last night, he went to bed early. This morning, he got up and ate breakfast cheerfully. Everything looked promising. After dropping Tommy off for his not too early 9:30 class, Doug and I tersely snapped at each other all day.
I picked Sarah up at the high school and headed to pick Tommy up from the college. Sarah was in an unusually good mood and her details about her day distracted me from my anxiety. We arrived on campus and Tommy texted that he didn’t want my help in the bookstore. I understood that, but sent Sarah in to check on him. They returned to the car and I asked Tommy to tell me about his day. Tommy talked the entire ride home. He told Sarah and I ALL about the cafeteria choices and the quality of the food. It did not fill me with confidence.
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