Thank you for your kind words in my previous post.
At the rate this kid is going he'll have 'speed walker' or cat walk model as his main career.
Let me explain....
I won't mention the fact he said something, somewhere and later told me about it and that I *may* have over-reacted to this thing that he said.
But I still maintain it was wrong....
I won't mention that he packed his bag, kicked out the fly-wire screen in his bedroom window (which was less like Chuck Norris and more like Sheldon trying to escape a swarm of flying ants) and took off on Christmas Eve.
Hot Christmas Eve.
With no money.
With having no brekkie or meds or fluids.
Because that would mean listening and doing as his parents had nagged him for a gazillion times.
Cos...what teen would do that?!
I won't mention that the police were called, that the air wing (helicopter) was alerted and in the sky searching for him.
I won't mention that he eventually returned, several hours later, with a delightful dose of heat stroke having speed walked to Carnegie station, then caught the train into the city and wandered about in the heat for some time (carrying a heavy backpack) before realising how thirsty he was.
I won't mention how ill he was, vomiting up all the fluids he drank until my nagging finally got through to him to sip it s-l-o-w-l-y.
Oh, yeah, I did the whole "I told you so" thing.
I won't mention how the little bugger has always been a challenge for keeping his fluids up in the heat but this year he's being contrary; digging his toes in and deliberately refusing to drink the more we nag.
Plus insisting on wearing cold weather clothing and sleeping under his thick, heavy, weighted blankets.
Which is his normal thing but it's becoming more marked as his anxiety rises with passing time, despite the increased meds (which could be feeding my anxiety but let's not mention that, ok?).
And complaining about the noise the fans make....him, not me.
Nor will I mention how getting him to eat is an adventure game in itself, as ceasing the Risperdone has robbed him of the false, increased appetite and we're back to the usual picking like a baby bird with the ritual "I'm not hungry,".
Unless it's chocolate...then he'll eat it until he's sick.
Literally.
Brown waves of a sickly ocean washing over the floor...not pretty.
He's dropping weight without even trying, which he's loving cos he was getting all self-conscious about the tiny pot belly he'd developed.
Tiny!!!
Now the non-existent hips aren't holding up the board shorts (no budgie smugglers in this household, thankyouverymuch).
I won't mention how much bribery runs this household... from this morning if he doesn't drink or eat when he's given fluids/food then he loses 30 mins of his precious game of Minecraft.
Any lip and he loses a further 30 mins.
He told me what he thought, which wasn't a lot, let me tell you.
But it's working.
For now.
Until he finds something else to irritate him.
Now, seeing as how I haven't mentioned a thing, let's hope 2012 is a splediferously wonderful year for us all!
Showing posts with label Aspie teen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aspie teen. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Aspie futures
Here we are December already and Xmas rat-a-tat-tatting on the door.
Yes, the shopping is done.
I think.
Hubby did the Chrissy tree and decs while I had the Feral Aspie teen up in Dunolly.
He got his happy on....he trundled about on his treadly, we sang in the choir for the Chrissy carols and he et a delish chicken parma in The Royal Hotel ( cooked by Mine Host, Karen The Kitchen Whizz).
He's been so full of emotions these past few weeks - end of the year irritation picked up from the other kids at school, excitement at school hols, excitement at staying in Dunolly, birthday excitement (he's a whole 15 now, where the hell did those years go??!!) and so on and so forth.
You get the picture - typical Aspie and typical teen coping with all these GINORMOUS churning emotions inside.
But he's been a good kid.
Got his happy on cos of Dunolly.
And wants to get a part-time job.....
But.
We are starting to get scared for his future.
Like any parents we want to see him independent, doing whatever job/work career that floats his boat and coping with Life.
But.
With his Auditory Sensory issues we can't see him coping with even a part-time job after school...he barely takes in the instructions of school lessons or conversations with friends, how much basic Occ Health and Safety will he retain?
He works at a s-l-o-w pace, hurrying him up Does.Not.Work, it only angers him...how many bosses will tolerate a time-poor employee (who has NO concept of time itself) with what they perceive as "attitude" before booting him out?
How many knocks to his self-esteem will he have to cop before something, anything, turns up?
We've even tossed around the mad idea of starting a business in Dunolly just so he could work at his own pace, learn basic safety proceedures at his own pace, work without a boss hanging over his shoulder or the stress and pressure of keeping up.
How to start a business - what business?! - we have not the foggiest.
This would, of course, involve selling my Dad's house and using that money as we are stoney broke and on pensions.
How would we do this with my vision impairment, hubby's dyslexia and lack of car transportation I have NFI.
It seems like an impossibility but there must be a way or something for him.
Hmm, something for researching in the New Year.
Maybe.
Yes, the shopping is done.
I think.
Hubby did the Chrissy tree and decs while I had the Feral Aspie teen up in Dunolly.
He got his happy on....he trundled about on his treadly, we sang in the choir for the Chrissy carols and he et a delish chicken parma in The Royal Hotel ( cooked by Mine Host, Karen The Kitchen Whizz).
He's been so full of emotions these past few weeks - end of the year irritation picked up from the other kids at school, excitement at school hols, excitement at staying in Dunolly, birthday excitement (he's a whole 15 now, where the hell did those years go??!!) and so on and so forth.
You get the picture - typical Aspie and typical teen coping with all these GINORMOUS churning emotions inside.
But he's been a good kid.
Got his happy on cos of Dunolly.
And wants to get a part-time job.....
But.
We are starting to get scared for his future.
Like any parents we want to see him independent, doing whatever job/work career that floats his boat and coping with Life.
But.
With his Auditory Sensory issues we can't see him coping with even a part-time job after school...he barely takes in the instructions of school lessons or conversations with friends, how much basic Occ Health and Safety will he retain?
He works at a s-l-o-w pace, hurrying him up Does.Not.Work, it only angers him...how many bosses will tolerate a time-poor employee (who has NO concept of time itself) with what they perceive as "attitude" before booting him out?
How many knocks to his self-esteem will he have to cop before something, anything, turns up?
We've even tossed around the mad idea of starting a business in Dunolly just so he could work at his own pace, learn basic safety proceedures at his own pace, work without a boss hanging over his shoulder or the stress and pressure of keeping up.
How to start a business - what business?! - we have not the foggiest.
This would, of course, involve selling my Dad's house and using that money as we are stoney broke and on pensions.
How would we do this with my vision impairment, hubby's dyslexia and lack of car transportation I have NFI.
It seems like an impossibility but there must be a way or something for him.
Hmm, something for researching in the New Year.
Maybe.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
I shall frame this day in gold
Have had such a HUGELY fun day with my Feral Aspie Beastie, it's been one THE best days in a looooong time!
He wanted to explore the local Sunday market so we had to unearth one of Dad's old wheelchairs as he's strictly not allowed to weight-bear on his toe/foot.
It was a case of the blind leading the blind (almost literally) as he had to verbally direct me as I pushed him along.
It made for interesting conversation as I rediscovered muscles I haven't used for awhile!
We trundled along under the Warrigal Rd overpass - where gazillions of wild pigeons nest with their squillions of squabs - just as a car full of 20-something yr old females drove past Feral Aspie was heard to exclaim,
"Check out mah ride, chicks!"
I refrained from asking which chicks in particular he was referring to!
The thing with the Feral Aspie teen is that he is the size of an adult, he looks like an adult and while he may have 5 uni subjects under his belt he still loves things like Ben 10, Transformers, Hot Wheels, Lego, etc.
Which means that when he hangs around the toy section in the supermarket or checks out the toys at the Sunday market people think he's weird in the former, a collector in the latter and try to charge him more, so I took great pleasure in pushing him over to the kids section today and letting him have his fun by checking out all the toys at his leisure without worrying about funny looks.
Cos the wheelchair is visable whereas the Autism isn't.
He has laughed and giggled today, due to me playing silly buggers, he's been so happy and relaxed, chatting and joking with me.
It's been a golden day :)
He wanted to explore the local Sunday market so we had to unearth one of Dad's old wheelchairs as he's strictly not allowed to weight-bear on his toe/foot.
It was a case of the blind leading the blind (almost literally) as he had to verbally direct me as I pushed him along.
It made for interesting conversation as I rediscovered muscles I haven't used for awhile!
We trundled along under the Warrigal Rd overpass - where gazillions of wild pigeons nest with their squillions of squabs - just as a car full of 20-something yr old females drove past Feral Aspie was heard to exclaim,
"Check out mah ride, chicks!"
I refrained from asking which chicks in particular he was referring to!
The thing with the Feral Aspie teen is that he is the size of an adult, he looks like an adult and while he may have 5 uni subjects under his belt he still loves things like Ben 10, Transformers, Hot Wheels, Lego, etc.
Which means that when he hangs around the toy section in the supermarket or checks out the toys at the Sunday market people think he's weird in the former, a collector in the latter and try to charge him more, so I took great pleasure in pushing him over to the kids section today and letting him have his fun by checking out all the toys at his leisure without worrying about funny looks.
Cos the wheelchair is visable whereas the Autism isn't.
He has laughed and giggled today, due to me playing silly buggers, he's been so happy and relaxed, chatting and joking with me.
It's been a golden day :)
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Things I know
Today is Sans Pants & Bra Saturday!!
Which I shamelessy pinched from both Kelley and Shae.
Following on from Sans Pants & Bra Friday Evening.
Woop, woop.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know TMI.
Get over it, I did *snort*
The Feral Aspie is distracting himself from the thunder - which isn't actually thunder but the construction of another multi-storey apartment building nearby but sounds like some Greek Goddess is chucking a tanty over the top of the house - and is relaxing by blowing up zombies and skeletons.
Apologies to the Accidental Insect Pornographer, Kim, despite your high Klout level in Zombies when the zombie apocolypse starts I'll be hiding behind him!
The things I know are that my gorgeous boy is needing time out from mainstream school and this toenail was a blessing.
That I hesitated signing off to not register to homeschool again next year (you have to register each year in Victoria).
That maybe I'll register again just in case and look to part-time homeschooling/mainstream schooling for taking the pressure off.
That things got so bad a few weeks back that my beautiful, clever Aspie told me he was considering suicide.
And that he'd thought of different ways to do it.
That I watch him like a hawk, surreptitiously, and worry each time he walks out the door to go to school.
That the TV show Glee the other night proved my point when Santana was called out on her bullying, that she was feeling so miserable inside and was trying to make others feel the same misery.
That there is a horrible epidemic amongst our gorgeous kids that are making them so angry and unfullfilled with themselves that they are destroying each other just to survive.
That the mental health system sucks hairy dogs' balls.
That I have my splendid, happy boy right at this moment in time and that makes everything right in the world.
Which I shamelessy pinched from both Kelley and Shae.
Following on from Sans Pants & Bra Friday Evening.
Woop, woop.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know TMI.
Get over it, I did *snort*
The Feral Aspie is distracting himself from the thunder - which isn't actually thunder but the construction of another multi-storey apartment building nearby but sounds like some Greek Goddess is chucking a tanty over the top of the house - and is relaxing by blowing up zombies and skeletons.
Apologies to the Accidental Insect Pornographer, Kim, despite your high Klout level in Zombies when the zombie apocolypse starts I'll be hiding behind him!
The things I know are that my gorgeous boy is needing time out from mainstream school and this toenail was a blessing.
That I hesitated signing off to not register to homeschool again next year (you have to register each year in Victoria).
That maybe I'll register again just in case and look to part-time homeschooling/mainstream schooling for taking the pressure off.
That things got so bad a few weeks back that my beautiful, clever Aspie told me he was considering suicide.
And that he'd thought of different ways to do it.
That I watch him like a hawk, surreptitiously, and worry each time he walks out the door to go to school.
That the TV show Glee the other night proved my point when Santana was called out on her bullying, that she was feeling so miserable inside and was trying to make others feel the same misery.
That there is a horrible epidemic amongst our gorgeous kids that are making them so angry and unfullfilled with themselves that they are destroying each other just to survive.
That the mental health system sucks hairy dogs' balls.
That I have my splendid, happy boy right at this moment in time and that makes everything right in the world.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Don't ever let yourself get painted beige by bullies
Good grief, I turn around and another month flies past without me posting over here!
To be honest, we've had some great ups and some very dark downs with the Feral Aspie teen.
He loves school, wants to go all the time and really puts his all into his work.
The teachers have no complaints with him and he gets along really well with those in Years 10, 11 and 12.
If he could go to school and just learn, everything would be prefect.
Unfortunately there is a plethora of personalities and types at school; some of them are so uncomfortable in their own skin and have no confidence to let their spirits soar and shine that they bully others who are anything other than average.
You know, paint yourself beige to blend in and don't be too clever or too knowledgable or achieve good marks or do anything that might make you stand out.
So, couple this with Feral Aspie teen who is a walking, talking encyclopedia, who has completed 5 university units and, while he forgets to use shampoo on his hair whilst under the shower, he can recall Every.Little.Detail about arguments/discussions/lessons/events/docos so much so that he spits them back out verbatim.
Which doesn't help him paint himself beige.
And nor does he want to become beige.
He is who he is; his spirit will soar and shine and he will achieve whatever he hell he wants, despite the measly little creatures who have anchored their souls to the floor of the budgie cage and are too scared to unchain their potential to fly free.
Of course, we have glorious, wonderful Dunolly to restore his happy.
We now own a caravan at the caravan park, a little home away from home which Feral Aspie teen finds is just perfect for him.
Instead of him going on the school camp where he won't get a break for 5 days from any niggles or bullying or even mild, joking teasing (which could easily turn into a fully flamed argument) we've offered to take him to spend that week at Dunolly.
Which he jumped at, of course.
Go read a great post on the troubles with bullies by Madam Bipolar.
Yes, bullying has been around for a long time and only recently have schools really started to take it seriously because of the long-term consequences....except those very same long-term consequences were there all along.
We look towards the future of our fragile youth who are bullied but don't forget to take a peep back over our shoulders at those who are still struggling with those consequences.
To be honest, we've had some great ups and some very dark downs with the Feral Aspie teen.
He loves school, wants to go all the time and really puts his all into his work.
The teachers have no complaints with him and he gets along really well with those in Years 10, 11 and 12.
If he could go to school and just learn, everything would be prefect.
Unfortunately there is a plethora of personalities and types at school; some of them are so uncomfortable in their own skin and have no confidence to let their spirits soar and shine that they bully others who are anything other than average.
You know, paint yourself beige to blend in and don't be too clever or too knowledgable or achieve good marks or do anything that might make you stand out.
So, couple this with Feral Aspie teen who is a walking, talking encyclopedia, who has completed 5 university units and, while he forgets to use shampoo on his hair whilst under the shower, he can recall Every.Little.Detail about arguments/discussions/lessons/events/docos so much so that he spits them back out verbatim.
Which doesn't help him paint himself beige.
And nor does he want to become beige.
He is who he is; his spirit will soar and shine and he will achieve whatever he hell he wants, despite the measly little creatures who have anchored their souls to the floor of the budgie cage and are too scared to unchain their potential to fly free.
Of course, we have glorious, wonderful Dunolly to restore his happy.
We now own a caravan at the caravan park, a little home away from home which Feral Aspie teen finds is just perfect for him.
Instead of him going on the school camp where he won't get a break for 5 days from any niggles or bullying or even mild, joking teasing (which could easily turn into a fully flamed argument) we've offered to take him to spend that week at Dunolly.
Which he jumped at, of course.
Go read a great post on the troubles with bullies by Madam Bipolar.
Yes, bullying has been around for a long time and only recently have schools really started to take it seriously because of the long-term consequences....except those very same long-term consequences were there all along.
We look towards the future of our fragile youth who are bullied but don't forget to take a peep back over our shoulders at those who are still struggling with those consequences.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Anxiety - Teh Shizzle that dictates my sons life
I have a sore back - strained lumbar muscles, aggrevated old injury due to a 'moment' with my beautiful Aspie kidlet.
This is all I'm expanding on except to say I lurve Voltarin and various pain meds, hot water bottles and my darling kidlet who is unable to control some behaviours due to the overwhelming anxiety he deals with every day.
His anxiety is Teh Shizzle - if it was a person it would be The Fonz (from Happy Days) except it'd be the Fonz's evil twin cousin sitting on his shoulder telling him to be the bad arse biker dude, to scare the crapola outa everyone and to bask in the FEAR he inspires in those around him.
BUT.
That is not how my Aspie teen works; he is a kind, gentle soul who goes out of his way to help others,who strives his best to do good and who sobs uncontrollably when he knows he's mucked up and hurt someone.
This isn't a kid growing into being a bad person who'll end up in gaol.
This is a kid growing into being a person trying to negotiate the boundaries anxiety throws up in everyday situations and trying to find his footing in everyday situations you or I would think nothing about...who might end up in gaol through misunderstandings.
My biggest nightmare.
Teh Shizzle is an awe inspiring, fearsome anxiety where he goes into auto-pilot; it's kill or be killed, attack or be hurt, such is his anxiety and paranoia.
(which some twat believes will be helped be sending him back to an overcrowded high school, did I mention this? Oh yes, I did, let's just repeat this 'joke')
You can have a fabulous conversation with him one minute and then suddenly he'll turn into a screaming virago if he misunderstands/misinterprets what your meaning is - which is common on the Spectrum.
Teh Shizzle is something to behold ; it's an all consuming anxiety that drives superhuman strength, it crosses all boundaries and defies logic/commonsense and makes science into a lie such is his twisting argument.
BUT - it only happens with his father and I - he contains his stress until he is home where he "can let it all hang out", where (typical Aspie) he feels comfy and can regurgitate the anxiety that's been growing inside of him.
He is perfectly well behaved with other people so please do not feel intimidated in not meeting this wonderful personc or others like him.
Personality disorder/ schizo-effective disorder as he was diagnosed back in the day?
Farked if I know.
Autistic-driven anxiety as another specialist would have it?
Farked if I know.
Asperger's anxiety combined with hormones?
Farked if I know.
Tourette's anxiety attack?
See above.
(have you seen a pattern here? I am not an expert on any of Teh Shizzle, I am but a commuter taken along for a ride until Teh Shizzle decides we've reached the end of the penny section and boots me off when the Aspie teen bursts into great floods of tears and I need to cuddle him until he settles again).
Teh Shizzle is more then mere anxiety; anxiety is so underestimated in its powerful hold on people it's swept under the carpet and many don't consider the strength anxiety wields over the sufferer.
Teh Shizzle is HUGE, it is the mammoth wave about to dump you into the beach leaving you breathless, scared and completely out of control.
Teh Shizzle will not take mercy on you; it will not give a fat rat's clacker how scared it makes you, how it screws with your life or twists your thinking.
Teh Shizzle is a bitch.
And it is an insidious parasite that hitches a ride with my Aspie teen, it sucks his happiness away like a blood-starvd leech, it pushes its way into his everyday life and colours his experience to its own bent.
We don't like Teh Shizzle.
If you know someone battling anxiety, please don't dismiss it; it can be a massive hurdle for people to overcome in everyday activities and showing some understanding is a big help.
Thanks for reading :)
This is all I'm expanding on except to say I lurve Voltarin and various pain meds, hot water bottles and my darling kidlet who is unable to control some behaviours due to the overwhelming anxiety he deals with every day.
His anxiety is Teh Shizzle - if it was a person it would be The Fonz (from Happy Days) except it'd be the Fonz's evil twin cousin sitting on his shoulder telling him to be the bad arse biker dude, to scare the crapola outa everyone and to bask in the FEAR he inspires in those around him.
BUT.
That is not how my Aspie teen works; he is a kind, gentle soul who goes out of his way to help others,who strives his best to do good and who sobs uncontrollably when he knows he's mucked up and hurt someone.
This isn't a kid growing into being a bad person who'll end up in gaol.
This is a kid growing into being a person trying to negotiate the boundaries anxiety throws up in everyday situations and trying to find his footing in everyday situations you or I would think nothing about...who might end up in gaol through misunderstandings.
My biggest nightmare.
Teh Shizzle is an awe inspiring, fearsome anxiety where he goes into auto-pilot; it's kill or be killed, attack or be hurt, such is his anxiety and paranoia.
(which some twat believes will be helped be sending him back to an overcrowded high school, did I mention this? Oh yes, I did, let's just repeat this 'joke')
You can have a fabulous conversation with him one minute and then suddenly he'll turn into a screaming virago if he misunderstands/misinterprets what your meaning is - which is common on the Spectrum.
Teh Shizzle is something to behold ; it's an all consuming anxiety that drives superhuman strength, it crosses all boundaries and defies logic/commonsense and makes science into a lie such is his twisting argument.
BUT - it only happens with his father and I - he contains his stress until he is home where he "can let it all hang out", where (typical Aspie) he feels comfy and can regurgitate the anxiety that's been growing inside of him.
He is perfectly well behaved with other people so please do not feel intimidated in not meeting this wonderful personc or others like him.
Personality disorder/ schizo-effective disorder as he was diagnosed back in the day?
Farked if I know.
Autistic-driven anxiety as another specialist would have it?
Farked if I know.
Asperger's anxiety combined with hormones?
Farked if I know.
Tourette's anxiety attack?
See above.
(have you seen a pattern here? I am not an expert on any of Teh Shizzle, I am but a commuter taken along for a ride until Teh Shizzle decides we've reached the end of the penny section and boots me off when the Aspie teen bursts into great floods of tears and I need to cuddle him until he settles again).
Teh Shizzle is more then mere anxiety; anxiety is so underestimated in its powerful hold on people it's swept under the carpet and many don't consider the strength anxiety wields over the sufferer.
Teh Shizzle is HUGE, it is the mammoth wave about to dump you into the beach leaving you breathless, scared and completely out of control.
Teh Shizzle will not take mercy on you; it will not give a fat rat's clacker how scared it makes you, how it screws with your life or twists your thinking.
Teh Shizzle is a bitch.
And it is an insidious parasite that hitches a ride with my Aspie teen, it sucks his happiness away like a blood-starvd leech, it pushes its way into his everyday life and colours his experience to its own bent.
We don't like Teh Shizzle.
If you know someone battling anxiety, please don't dismiss it; it can be a massive hurdle for people to overcome in everyday activities and showing some understanding is a big help.
Thanks for reading :)
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Digging diligently at Dunolly....
.... is my Aspie teen's idea of heaven.
Dunolly has this magical ability to settle a cloak of calmness all about Aspie teen's shoulders the moment we step off the bus into the main street Broadway.
Unfortunately we haven't had a chance to shift our carcasses up there since December...or was it January?I can't remember, too much crap in between drinks and between my ears since then.
This distance ed lark has whiskers on it with the extra pressure and anxiety caused by deadlines and constant phone calls from teachers; the whole idea was for him to have to answer to someone other than his Mama as educator but all it's done is given him a shedload more issues.
Today he rocked himself to sleep on the couch after fretting about schoolwork - yet again.
So, I'm pulling the pin.
We're taking tomorrow off, playing hookey, going on a homeschooling excursion of our choice, wandering off into the wide blue yonder; we'll probably park our carcasses at the museum to drink in the peace and soul-restoring tranquility of the fossils.
Yes, dead stuff is good.
It doesn't generally talk back.
The Ginormous Godzilla-like teen I found at my place...
Right, so when I touched back down to planet earth after the blogging conference I was greeted at the front door by an Aspie teen who I could physically see had grown.
Not that I'd been away and kept imagining him smaller than what he already really was (he's been a few cms taller than me for months now and I'm not allowed to forget it *snort*) but this was noticable.
Wednesday he re-read his football team newsletter and discovered he should have started training 2 weeks previously (minor moment but quickly settled) then....
"You better try on your footy boots to see if they still fit," hubby remarked and I almost choked on my cuppa tea.
Ahuh.
Whistling in the wind with that one, dear.
This kid has had more growth spurts in the past 6-8 months than I've had hot dinners.
No, footy boots too small, so off they trotted to the nearby (thank god) soccer shop where the clod-hoppers didn't break the bank.
Not that I'd been away and kept imagining him smaller than what he already really was (he's been a few cms taller than me for months now and I'm not allowed to forget it *snort*) but this was noticable.
Wednesday he re-read his football team newsletter and discovered he should have started training 2 weeks previously (minor moment but quickly settled) then....
"You better try on your footy boots to see if they still fit," hubby remarked and I almost choked on my cuppa tea.
Ahuh.
Whistling in the wind with that one, dear.
This kid has had more growth spurts in the past 6-8 months than I've had hot dinners.
No, footy boots too small, so off they trotted to the nearby (thank god) soccer shop where the clod-hoppers didn't break the bank.
Yes, that does say size 14.
Just for argument's sake I got the Aspie teen up against the measuring wall thingie - doesn't every house have one? (ours is the inside of the kitchen door frame).
Yep, he'd edged upwards a good 5cms since we last measured.
It may or may not have something to do with the tonnes of meals he works his way through every day.....
Monday, October 4, 2010
We're sort of still here
Baby steps, baby steps.
A few minor, teeny-tiny blow ups quickly soothed and sorted.
Simple com-mun-i-cation.
Talk, talk, talk.
Taking everything back to basics, stripping all routines right back and scrapping daily habits.
In amongst it all cute, fluffy Silkie chickens caught his eye.
Sweet, docile and doting, they have Aspie teen up and out of bed early.
Yes, up and out of bed EARLY.
We've gone, not backwards but sideways, with tasks and goals; we get his brekkie instead of him but he's up and about early.
Now, touch wood, he's up and about between 7-7.30am.
And feeding his 'babies' himself.
And cleaning up after them, sometimes without needing to be told.
Shhh, don't you dare tell him these are 'independent'-type tasks.
Been holding myself together as Dad is still in hospital and failing both physically and mentally every day.
Yes, I get that he's elderly but to suddenly 'hit the wall' like he has while doctors are left scratching their heads looking for explanations is a bit tough.
Holding my shyte together so as Aspie teen doesn't lose his.
Cos he is close to it some days; an hour is all he can cope with watching his beloved Pa staring mindlessly at the TV or simply unable to keep his eyes open long enough to put his cup of sustegan back on the table. Sometimes he forgets he has a mouthful of food/drink and he just forgets to swallow then it seeps out of his mouth or he chokes on it, aspirating some into his lungs and brewing another possible chest infection.
But the speech pathologist says there's nothing wrong with his swallow reflex so...!
Aspie teen has been marvellous, sleeping a lot after visits that are stressful which I think is his downtime way of coping.
His sense of smell went off the scale yesterday; Spring and the doors were open airing the house out but every.little.scent had him screwing his nose up.
The lavender gives him a headache as does the daphne, jasmine and lilac, while he can tolerate the freesias and gardenias in small doses.
Just as well his mother isn't big on cut flowers in the house!
A few minor, teeny-tiny blow ups quickly soothed and sorted.
Simple com-mun-i-cation.
Talk, talk, talk.
Taking everything back to basics, stripping all routines right back and scrapping daily habits.
In amongst it all cute, fluffy Silkie chickens caught his eye.
Sweet, docile and doting, they have Aspie teen up and out of bed early.
Yes, up and out of bed EARLY.
We've gone, not backwards but sideways, with tasks and goals; we get his brekkie instead of him but he's up and about early.
Now, touch wood, he's up and about between 7-7.30am.
And feeding his 'babies' himself.
And cleaning up after them, sometimes without needing to be told.
Shhh, don't you dare tell him these are 'independent'-type tasks.
Been holding myself together as Dad is still in hospital and failing both physically and mentally every day.
Yes, I get that he's elderly but to suddenly 'hit the wall' like he has while doctors are left scratching their heads looking for explanations is a bit tough.
Holding my shyte together so as Aspie teen doesn't lose his.
Cos he is close to it some days; an hour is all he can cope with watching his beloved Pa staring mindlessly at the TV or simply unable to keep his eyes open long enough to put his cup of sustegan back on the table. Sometimes he forgets he has a mouthful of food/drink and he just forgets to swallow then it seeps out of his mouth or he chokes on it, aspirating some into his lungs and brewing another possible chest infection.
But the speech pathologist says there's nothing wrong with his swallow reflex so...!
Aspie teen has been marvellous, sleeping a lot after visits that are stressful which I think is his downtime way of coping.
His sense of smell went off the scale yesterday; Spring and the doors were open airing the house out but every.little.scent had him screwing his nose up.
The lavender gives him a headache as does the daphne, jasmine and lilac, while he can tolerate the freesias and gardenias in small doses.
Just as well his mother isn't big on cut flowers in the house!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Do ya wanna know a secret?
Sorry for the silence but we've been away in Central Victoria and then Aspie teen crashed and burned today.
*sigh*
Yes, we have his schedule up on the fridge, we chant, mantra-like "Breakfast and medicine, breakfast and medicine" for a full 30 mins each morning as we nag the delightful kid to get out of bed.
Oh and by the way, before your own starts this trick... "I'm getting out of bed" isn't strictly the truth as 'getting' is an action word and there sure as heck on a broomstick aint no action from the prone kid under the doona.
So, yeah.
Forgot his meds this morning, despite constant nagging.
Lunchtime hit then everything slid into a heap of crap.
There was screaming, screeching, hitting, kicking, flailing of belts, locking us parents in the backyard, manic grunting and babbling and blah blah blah blah blah.
The usual broken record when he gets wound up with no getting off the merry-go-round until his anger runs out.
Called the police.
Yes, that's right, third time we've had the police out here for his meltdowns, thank flock we got two lovely blokes who asked me how to handle him, who talked him into sitting and talking to them and got him to see that his actions were causing crap.
Everything is back to our version of normal again, it's pissing with rain and all's right with the world.
Now, if you'll excuse me I'll just trot off for a close up with some paracetamol and Deep Heat cream.
Please don't give me sympathy, if you want to leave a comment make me laugh, dammit!
*sigh*
Yes, we have his schedule up on the fridge, we chant, mantra-like "Breakfast and medicine, breakfast and medicine" for a full 30 mins each morning as we nag the delightful kid to get out of bed.
Oh and by the way, before your own starts this trick... "I'm getting out of bed" isn't strictly the truth as 'getting' is an action word and there sure as heck on a broomstick aint no action from the prone kid under the doona.
So, yeah.
Forgot his meds this morning, despite constant nagging.
Lunchtime hit then everything slid into a heap of crap.
There was screaming, screeching, hitting, kicking, flailing of belts, locking us parents in the backyard, manic grunting and babbling and blah blah blah blah blah.
The usual broken record when he gets wound up with no getting off the merry-go-round until his anger runs out.
Called the police.
Yes, that's right, third time we've had the police out here for his meltdowns, thank flock we got two lovely blokes who asked me how to handle him, who talked him into sitting and talking to them and got him to see that his actions were causing crap.
Everything is back to our version of normal again, it's pissing with rain and all's right with the world.
Now, if you'll excuse me I'll just trot off for a close up with some paracetamol and Deep Heat cream.
Please don't give me sympathy, if you want to leave a comment make me laugh, dammit!
Sunday, August 15, 2010
How to get ones kid to join in the silly games
By doin' it old school.
Was up at the crack of Dawn to get up to the Sunday Market only for the heavens to open and the sky juice to persistentlypiss bucket down.
So, hubby and I did what any other normal kid of the 70s would do - flicked the pay tv channel over to Lost In Space.
Woot!
I swear, there are bajillions of seasons and episodes of these old series we never saw here in Oz, like the Aussie tv channels only bought a couple of seasons and replayed them to death.
Anyways, there was angst in the Robinson camp with Don goin' all macho and lasering poor old Robot til he didn't babble any more.
*insert sad face here*
Although the weird-arse Spock-eared chimp was super-dooper ok to sit around and just look cute, no one ever questioned that critter's evil intentions.
And, of course, as this was the first ever black and white episode of Lost in Space Aspie teen had ever actually seen we had to do the "Warning Will Robinson, danger, danger, Warning Will Robinson" Robot chant while flailing our arms about like pieces of rubbery spaghetti.
The last bit was what tipped Aspie teen over the edge.
Staring at the mad woman, trying so hard not to split his sides with laughter he his behind his father begging "Make the bad lady go away, Daddy. Or I'll have to get the evil chimp to atomise her."
Then, he proceeded to sit through the rest of the angsty episode (Judy and Don exchanged angry looks!!!! *cue dramatic music!!!*) and picked fault with the sci-fi writers who obviously knew nothing about astronomy or the planets or even basic science.
Yeah, good times.
Was up at the crack of Dawn to get up to the Sunday Market only for the heavens to open and the sky juice to persistently
So, hubby and I did what any other normal kid of the 70s would do - flicked the pay tv channel over to Lost In Space.
Woot!
I swear, there are bajillions of seasons and episodes of these old series we never saw here in Oz, like the Aussie tv channels only bought a couple of seasons and replayed them to death.
Anyways, there was angst in the Robinson camp with Don goin' all macho and lasering poor old Robot til he didn't babble any more.
*insert sad face here*
Although the weird-arse Spock-eared chimp was super-dooper ok to sit around and just look cute, no one ever questioned that critter's evil intentions.
And, of course, as this was the first ever black and white episode of Lost in Space Aspie teen had ever actually seen we had to do the "Warning Will Robinson, danger, danger, Warning Will Robinson" Robot chant while flailing our arms about like pieces of rubbery spaghetti.
The last bit was what tipped Aspie teen over the edge.
Staring at the mad woman, trying so hard not to split his sides with laughter he his behind his father begging "Make the bad lady go away, Daddy. Or I'll have to get the evil chimp to atomise her."
Then, he proceeded to sit through the rest of the angsty episode (Judy and Don exchanged angry looks!!!! *cue dramatic music!!!*) and picked fault with the sci-fi writers who obviously knew nothing about astronomy or the planets or even basic science.
Yeah, good times.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Goin' to the country...to go to church
My darling Aspie is not of the church going variety.
Neither am I of the strict religious type, either, but by the time we got him beyond the scream-the-roof-down-on-any-strange-building stage, he'd discovered Darwin and there was no way we were getting him inside a church.
Darwin, he informed me, perfectly explained the whole catastrophe of us galumphing all over this rock in space.
He waxes lyrical on the Big Bang theory (yes, the theory and the tv series) and thinks Stephan Hawking is the bees knees.
I thought Sunday school might broaden his social experiences, give him more information on what a large majority of our, and other, culture was based.
Nope.
Wasn't having any of it.
Did.Not.Believe.
Did.Not.Want.
Get it away now, thank you.
So, I was staggered to hear him ask to attend Christmas Eve service last year, almost fell off my seat if I remember rightly (it was a blur, the shock, you know?) but after that experience he didn't want to repeat it.
Could almost hear him saying "Been there, done that, have observed the bizarre freakazoids in their habitat and what ritual customs they do at this time of year".
Up at Dunolly, pottering about, visiting the massive humongous Sunday Market and all that we wandered up near the churches for some more photos when I realised there was a service on.
Did I dare?
"C'mon, let's go in" I suggested, waiting to hear the usual emphatic "No!"
Instead what I heard was "Ok."
Grabbed that moment and we almost leapt up the stairs into the middle of the service (oops) and joined in.
The morning tea with the (small but friendly) congregation afterwards helped cement a fabulous experience for him.
To the point he's asking 'when can we go back to Dunolly and can we go to church?' !!!
Neither am I of the strict religious type, either, but by the time we got him beyond the scream-the-roof-down-on-any-strange-building stage, he'd discovered Darwin and there was no way we were getting him inside a church.
Darwin, he informed me, perfectly explained the whole catastrophe of us galumphing all over this rock in space.
He waxes lyrical on the Big Bang theory (yes, the theory and the tv series) and thinks Stephan Hawking is the bees knees.
I thought Sunday school might broaden his social experiences, give him more information on what a large majority of our, and other, culture was based.
Nope.
Wasn't having any of it.
Did.Not.Believe.
Did.Not.Want.
Get it away now, thank you.
So, I was staggered to hear him ask to attend Christmas Eve service last year, almost fell off my seat if I remember rightly (it was a blur, the shock, you know?) but after that experience he didn't want to repeat it.
Could almost hear him saying "Been there, done that, have observed the bizarre freakazoids in their habitat and what ritual customs they do at this time of year".
Up at Dunolly, pottering about, visiting the massive humongous Sunday Market and all that we wandered up near the churches for some more photos when I realised there was a service on.
Did I dare?
"C'mon, let's go in" I suggested, waiting to hear the usual emphatic "No!"
Instead what I heard was "Ok."
Grabbed that moment and we almost leapt up the stairs into the middle of the service (oops) and joined in.
The morning tea with the (small but friendly) congregation afterwards helped cement a fabulous experience for him.
To the point he's asking 'when can we go back to Dunolly and can we go to church?' !!!
Friday, July 30, 2010
GFDF Crumpets, meltdowns and hair cuts, Oh My ! Flog it baby!
Sorry to leave you all making small talk, was off dealing with another massive meltdown.
I've chopped my (looooong) hair off (tired of it being pulled) and I've been reassured a bajillion times by the Aspie teen (between apologies) that "it suits you mum, makes you look really young".
*snort*
Silver tongued little monkey.
A shot from our recent trip to Dunolly.
I promised you GFDF crumpets that I was going to convert from a Matt Preston recipe.
Well, I did convert it - after I realised it was 11.15pm !!!! and I'd promised His Nibs crumpets for brekkie so I got a wriggle on.
I got the 2 teaspoons of yeast burbling away in warm water, had the soy milk heating on the stove, had the bowl of 1 cup of rice flour, 1/2 cup corn flour and 1/2 cup tapioca flour with a pinch of salt sitting in the bowl, combined the soy milk with the yeast then with the flours in the bowl.....
Then I read the next bit.
"Leave it covered in a warm spot for 1 hour"
By this time it was 11.45pm and I was just a wee bit tired.
I covered the damn bowl, started washing up the rest of the messy dishes and gave up trying to find other things to keep me awake and occupied after 40 mins.
Whipped the teatowel off the top and found that the batter had gone "a little bit farkin' freaky" were the words I apparently said to the husband perched in the lounge room.
The batter had grown to the point it was about to leap from the bowl and start running for parliament.
I soon put a stop to that by adding the requested 1/2 teaspoon of bi carb of soda which got that manifesting mutant sorted out quick smart.
Then I greased the pan and egg rings and fried the whole catastrophe up until there was no batter left to engage in staring contests with Julie Bishop.
The crumpets were ok; a bit on the gritty side with the larger portion being rice flour but tasted perfectly fine once slathered in margarine and honey.
Aspie teen loved 'em and has requested more.
The next batch I will make in a smaller portion - that volume gave us a bajillion of the little suckers, and I'll swap the ratio of flours around to using the cornflour more and the rice flour less.
The New Rules (which are kinda almost pretty much the same as the Old Rules)
1. Follow my blog. (*ahem* *cough* My Blog. Me me me. Me me. You get the picture.)
2. Grab B's bubbly button and post it on your sidebar.
3. Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your linked post (not your homepage) below.
4. Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post.
5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
6. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
7. A new and fresh link list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week.
8. And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).
I've chopped my (looooong) hair off (tired of it being pulled) and I've been reassured a bajillion times by the Aspie teen (between apologies) that "it suits you mum, makes you look really young".
*snort*
Silver tongued little monkey.
A shot from our recent trip to Dunolly.
I promised you GFDF crumpets that I was going to convert from a Matt Preston recipe.
Well, I did convert it - after I realised it was 11.15pm !!!! and I'd promised His Nibs crumpets for brekkie so I got a wriggle on.
I got the 2 teaspoons of yeast burbling away in warm water, had the soy milk heating on the stove, had the bowl of 1 cup of rice flour, 1/2 cup corn flour and 1/2 cup tapioca flour with a pinch of salt sitting in the bowl, combined the soy milk with the yeast then with the flours in the bowl.....
Then I read the next bit.
"Leave it covered in a warm spot for 1 hour"
By this time it was 11.45pm and I was just a wee bit tired.
I covered the damn bowl, started washing up the rest of the messy dishes and gave up trying to find other things to keep me awake and occupied after 40 mins.
Whipped the teatowel off the top and found that the batter had gone "a little bit farkin' freaky" were the words I apparently said to the husband perched in the lounge room.
The batter had grown to the point it was about to leap from the bowl and start running for parliament.
I soon put a stop to that by adding the requested 1/2 teaspoon of bi carb of soda which got that manifesting mutant sorted out quick smart.
Then I greased the pan and egg rings and fried the whole catastrophe up until there was no batter left to engage in staring contests with Julie Bishop.
The crumpets were ok; a bit on the gritty side with the larger portion being rice flour but tasted perfectly fine once slathered in margarine and honey.
Aspie teen loved 'em and has requested more.
The next batch I will make in a smaller portion - that volume gave us a bajillion of the little suckers, and I'll swap the ratio of flours around to using the cornflour more and the rice flour less.
The New Rules (which are kinda almost pretty much the same as the Old Rules)
1. Follow my blog. (*ahem* *cough* My Blog. Me me me. Me me. You get the picture.)
2. Grab B's bubbly button and post it on your sidebar.
3. Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your linked post (not your homepage) below.
4. Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post.
5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
6. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
7. A new and fresh link list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week.
8. And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
When a meltdown is totally cool bananas
When we last saw our action heroes strange not-so-dynamic duo they were disappearing into the sunset for several days while a few GFDF recipes were scheduled for your entertainment.
Oh, how many ways can a laksa soup titillate you, how much stuffing can you achieve with a capsicum and just what was that 3rd...(checks) oh yeah, Leftover Eggy Ringof Orgasm.
Maybe not.
I'm posting babbly stuff with photos over on the other blog that's in the blogroll over there if you want to waste some time instead of being industrious by ramming bamboo under your fingernails.
Let's catch up with our freaky family....
*Opening scene - Aspie teens bedroom which resembles a tip and has often been the site of unexpected life form discoveries*
According to the offspring my perception of reality is vastly different to his, ergo the mess isn't really that bad.
Yeah, ta for that, Spock, baby, and try the broom handle on for size in your great mitt.
Yes, backward and forward motion, preferably to move the debris towards the rubbish bin, not further into the corner of your room where you're going to try to hide it behind another teetering tower of sci-fi books.
Oh, yeah, I got your number, baby, I know how your brain works.
Did I mention I got the sworn atheist, Darwinist, Big Bang theorist into a church on our holiday?
And he didn't
A) turn into Linda Blair from the Exorcist
B) didn't burst into flames
C) Horror of Horrors!!!! Enjoyed meeting the whole congregation of 12.
The meltdown is reaction to holding his gizzards together without losing it all over Central Victoria.
I can get that.
Is cool bananas, baby.
Oh, how many ways can a laksa soup titillate you, how much stuffing can you achieve with a capsicum and just what was that 3rd...(checks) oh yeah, Leftover Eggy Ring
Maybe not.
I'm posting babbly stuff with photos over on the other blog that's in the blogroll over there if you want to waste some time instead of being industrious by ramming bamboo under your fingernails.
Let's catch up with our freaky family....
*Opening scene - Aspie teens bedroom which resembles a tip and has often been the site of unexpected life form discoveries*
MELTDOWN.
Thankfully the trashing of the room didn't really make that much difference to the pile of mess that was existing in this reality.According to the offspring my perception of reality is vastly different to his, ergo the mess isn't really that bad.
Yeah, ta for that, Spock, baby, and try the broom handle on for size in your great mitt.
Yes, backward and forward motion, preferably to move the debris towards the rubbish bin, not further into the corner of your room where you're going to try to hide it behind another teetering tower of sci-fi books.
Oh, yeah, I got your number, baby, I know how your brain works.
Did I mention I got the sworn atheist, Darwinist, Big Bang theorist into a church on our holiday?
And he didn't
A) turn into Linda Blair from the Exorcist
B) didn't burst into flames
C) Horror of Horrors!!!! Enjoyed meeting the whole congregation of 12.
The meltdown is reaction to holding his gizzards together without losing it all over Central Victoria.
I can get that.
Is cool bananas, baby.
Monday, July 26, 2010
yoooo-hooooo
Hello, I am back and I will get around to all of your blogs soonest!
I'm trialling a GFDF conversion of a Matt Preston recipe for crumpets tonight for the Aspie teen's brekkie, so will post the whole catastrophe on the morrow if it's successful.
I'm trialling a GFDF conversion of a Matt Preston recipe for crumpets tonight for the Aspie teen's brekkie, so will post the whole catastrophe on the morrow if it's successful.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Aspie teen and art
Well, we hit the Bendigo train before the sun was even up and the Aspie teen managed to sleep almost the whole way there, waking up in a great mood.
We tramped all over the town, exploring and visiting op shops, he had a ball.
The day was all about him and his love of art, history and architecture.
He snapped some green parrots in the trees and loved the water features around the town - water has always soothed him and has an almost hypnotic effect on him.
He's asked a few times when is he returning to his uni studies which I've fended off with a 'wait and see' reply but yesterday he really got into the art on display and began discussing the art studies he's completed and how he'd like to do some more.
We shall see.
He totally fell in love with McCubbin's impressionist style, he met his first (Brett) Whiteley paintings and found them to be potential friends, while the few (Arthur) Boyd works snagged his soul, too.
We're off to be entertained with a free organ concert at the Melbourne Town Hall next Wednesday and I think we shall be squeezing in a visit to the National Gallery, too.
Still no word on assessments and another massive meltdown wrestled with this arvo but I'll just keep chugging along with the art to sooth the aggro and let the 'experts' catch me up when they can get organised.
We tramped all over the town, exploring and visiting op shops, he had a ball.
The day was all about him and his love of art, history and architecture.
He snapped some green parrots in the trees and loved the water features around the town - water has always soothed him and has an almost hypnotic effect on him.
He's asked a few times when is he returning to his uni studies which I've fended off with a 'wait and see' reply but yesterday he really got into the art on display and began discussing the art studies he's completed and how he'd like to do some more.
We shall see.
He totally fell in love with McCubbin's impressionist style, he met his first (Brett) Whiteley paintings and found them to be potential friends, while the few (Arthur) Boyd works snagged his soul, too.
We're off to be entertained with a free organ concert at the Melbourne Town Hall next Wednesday and I think we shall be squeezing in a visit to the National Gallery, too.
Still no word on assessments and another massive meltdown wrestled with this arvo but I'll just keep chugging along with the art to sooth the aggro and let the 'experts' catch me up when they can get organised.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
We WILL win, dammit
Aspie teen has stalled, academically, but I refuse to let it frazzle me.
The specialists who are supposed to be sorting out assessments are speaking a mixture of Swahili, Latin and Gibberish apparently, but I refuse to let it frazzle me.
My Dad is becoming more of a child but I refuse to let it frazzle me.
Well, nothing's going to frazzle me today, at least.
Things are so over-whelming but I cannot afford to get swamped cos my boy needs me to be functional, plastering a great grin on my dial, boosting his self-confidence and reassuring him that this, too, will pass.
My mantra has become "Let's get through this next hour in one piece" and, viola! We get to the end of the day without having the armed forces knocking on our door.
This is always a bonus.
Now, I'm off to channel surf pay TV, rugged up on the couch with my boy with his bug (virus) with hot chocolate and the odour of Vick's Vapour Rub and Deep Heat burning nostril hairs at 30 paces.
The First Straw by 311.
The specialists who are supposed to be sorting out assessments are speaking a mixture of Swahili, Latin and Gibberish apparently, but I refuse to let it frazzle me.
My Dad is becoming more of a child but I refuse to let it frazzle me.
Well, nothing's going to frazzle me today, at least.
Things are so over-whelming but I cannot afford to get swamped cos my boy needs me to be functional, plastering a great grin on my dial, boosting his self-confidence and reassuring him that this, too, will pass.
My mantra has become "Let's get through this next hour in one piece" and, viola! We get to the end of the day without having the armed forces knocking on our door.
This is always a bonus.
Now, I'm off to channel surf pay TV, rugged up on the couch with my boy with his bug (virus) with hot chocolate and the odour of Vick's Vapour Rub and Deep Heat burning nostril hairs at 30 paces.
The First Straw by 311.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Derrrrr Fred
Studies have proven what we've all suspected for years - that Autism is genetic.
Hmm, let's do the math, as Sheldon would suggest.
Aspie teen is on the Spectrum.
Hubby is on the Spectrum.
Hubby's father has several learning disorders which would place him under the PDD umbrella, too.
Hubby's family has a large number of members diagnosed on the Spectrum, a couple of whom are 'slow' (nicer word than retarded*).
Several of hubby's other cousins have such rare genetic disorders that I dare not identify the disorders as they need only to search them by name and they'll arrive here (and I don't have permission to discuss them).
So....yeah, ya reckon genetic mutation might possibly have some kinda influence on these things, Sherlock? lol
*I apologise if the use of the word 'slow' in this context offends anyone, I simply find it more acceptable than 'mentally retarded'.
To me using the word 'slow' implies the person is just taking the world at an easier pace than the rest of us ratbags, whereas 'mentally retarded' brands the person as less than equal as everyone else.
Hmm, let's do the math, as Sheldon would suggest.
Aspie teen is on the Spectrum.
Hubby is on the Spectrum.
Hubby's father has several learning disorders which would place him under the PDD umbrella, too.
Hubby's family has a large number of members diagnosed on the Spectrum, a couple of whom are 'slow' (nicer word than retarded*).
Several of hubby's other cousins have such rare genetic disorders that I dare not identify the disorders as they need only to search them by name and they'll arrive here (and I don't have permission to discuss them).
So....yeah, ya reckon genetic mutation might possibly have some kinda influence on these things, Sherlock? lol
*I apologise if the use of the word 'slow' in this context offends anyone, I simply find it more acceptable than 'mentally retarded'.
To me using the word 'slow' implies the person is just taking the world at an easier pace than the rest of us ratbags, whereas 'mentally retarded' brands the person as less than equal as everyone else.
Counting blessings
I am so thankful for Aspie teen's paediatrician.
He not only knows the Spectrum inside out, is well-versed and knowledgeable but he treats his child patients as equals, talking to them instead of down to them or dismissing them altogether.
He has reassured my boy that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that what he's experiencing is not his fault and that he is a perfectly normal kid who's having a few ups and downs.
My son's Russian teacher has been marvellous, too, setting homework for him, openly acknowledging his quirks and working to his strengths to circumvent his weaknesses.
She even stated he is seen as an inspiration, a bench mark, for the other kids which she shamelessly uses lol.
He's gone back to using heavy blankets and asking for tight squishy hugs throughout the day.
He's also borrowed hubby's DJ headphones to block out sounds while listening to music or playing games.
He can hear what we're whispering 25 feet away.
Maybe I should enroll him in ASIO and he can get stuck in a squishy drain pipe ear-wigging to sensitive info?
He not only knows the Spectrum inside out, is well-versed and knowledgeable but he treats his child patients as equals, talking to them instead of down to them or dismissing them altogether.
He has reassured my boy that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that what he's experiencing is not his fault and that he is a perfectly normal kid who's having a few ups and downs.
My son's Russian teacher has been marvellous, too, setting homework for him, openly acknowledging his quirks and working to his strengths to circumvent his weaknesses.
She even stated he is seen as an inspiration, a bench mark, for the other kids which she shamelessly uses lol.
He's gone back to using heavy blankets and asking for tight squishy hugs throughout the day.
He's also borrowed hubby's DJ headphones to block out sounds while listening to music or playing games.
He can hear what we're whispering 25 feet away.
Maybe I should enroll him in ASIO and he can get stuck in a squishy drain pipe ear-wigging to sensitive info?
Friday, May 28, 2010
Bill Shorten speaks commonsense
When you are bearing the burden of having a disability, or caring for a person with a disability, your ability to fight for anything beyond daily survival is lost.That one sentence not only proves to me that Bill Shorten has been listening but that it also sums up exactly how I've felt in the past few months, more notably these past few weeks.
We have no idea if this is an emerging mental illness or a manifestation of Aspie teen's autism fuelled by raging testosterone with puberty.
Mental illness or disability - choose your poison cos either way you slice it the system as it stands is screwed.
The rest of the article by Bill Shorten is HERE.
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