Quick catch up with Aspie teen

Hello again, stranger!
Haven't wandered through this landscape for a minute or 3....but have been thinking of it and you.
There has been ups and the usual downs with horrid not-so-little thugs at school making the Feral Aspie teen feel as dreadful as themselves.
With their fists and feet and name calling.
*sigh*

There were a few explody moments at home that were curtailed with great finesse and elan by yours truly.
Yes, I do fashionable interventions.
Apparently.

Much time at Dunolly of late has soothed the anxiety, brought the irritations down a few notches and slipped this thing called Life into first gear to tackle the hills.
Dunolly is filled with eccentric characters (in suburbia they'd be called weird) and there is no pressure to conform to an expected "norm" as defined by "The Beautiful People".

The Aspie teen will be warbling his bass in the Gilbert & Sullivan production of Trial by Jury - in both the celebration of the refurbished heritage-listed Court House and at the Festival in October - as well as lending a hand to renovate/complete the gorgeously splendid old Junction Hotel (with Ballroom, thankyouverymuch!).
And he'll be on hand during the weekend of the open house of said Junction Hotel (with Ballroom, thankyouverymuch!).
I may be roped into plonking my arse on an upstairs chair, in Victorian dress, to crochet and keep an eye on people wandering through (possibly the Ballroom, thankyouverymuch!).

The Feral One is happy to continue seeing his psychologist via the school; he has a great rapport with him and finds him easy to natter away with.
Something that has been worrying him is the possibility he may have Bi Polar/Personality Disorder like his older sibling, so he discussed it with the psychologist and may be assessed for it at some date in the near future.
I don't think he fits the criteria but it's a worry he has and it needs to be addressed - he has seen the mess an out of control, unmedicated person with it can experience and has a fear he may develop it as he matures.
If an assessment gives him the relief and removes all question, then it's well worth it.
IF, on the other hand, it proves he does have it then we can tackle the bumps with a better understanding and forewarning we didn't have with our other child.
Plus, the Feral Aspie is also fully aware of the need for therapy and medication, something we fruitlessly fought to achieve for his sibling.
Yes, I'm looking for silver linings just in case.

I iz a'scared

I'm drowning.
There is so much ready to pounce on us in the coming months it feels like everything is LOOMING over us like a teetering tower of monster blocks about to splat us under the weight.

Return to school, return to the Risperdone, Feral Aspie having anxiety attacks at Every.Little.Thing in his daily routine including using public transport and snapping his Myki card in half yet again - those suckers cost $10 a pop to replace, we've replaced 2 so far with a 3rd on the horizon cos Metcards are being phased out.
*sigh*
Return to Feral Aspie being bullied,  misunderstanding others' social meanings,  not hearing/processing what is said to him, getting hold of the wrong end of the stick and/or missing complete instructions from teachers.
He gets a free netbook through the school this year - I am FREAKING that he'll vague out and leave it on the bus, drop it, put it down to tie his shoelaces then walk off without it, play rugby with it (don't laugh, he played rugby while his broken arm was in a cast. And wondered why it hurt even more.It may have been the reason he had to have surgery to straighten the break.).

He turns 16 at the end of this year, which means we have to apply for adult carers allowance for him, which means we have to fill in a forest of paperwork and jump through hoops.
And plus HE'S TURNING 16.
Sixteen....SIXTEEN.
He already thinks he knows everything (yes, he does, if we're cataloguing dinosaurs, transformers, Hot Wheels cars, the family of arachnids and Minecraft).

Now there's news articles detailing how those with high functioning autism will lose their diagnosis, how Aspergers will disappear into being lumped into the autism umbrella, the scare-mongering is running rife.
In the long run there's going to be an ugly transition period where parents are going to have to fight to retain their kids original diagnosis, if only to claw back the measly few pennies they are granted to 'assist' with their child's disability.
Cos the freaking label might suddenly disappear like smoke when this new book gets published but the freaking disability doesn't.

I.Am.Drowning in a sea of anxiety, worry, panic attacks and all I can see when I try to look forward is a swirling black mess.

Let's talk about suicide

The current, long-standing argument is that we and the media shouldn't discuss it/gloss over it lest articles glamorise the act of suicide and encourages others to follow suit.
Well, guess what?
This whole not talking about it thing?
It's not working.

Both my eldest and Feral Aspie teen have depression amongst other issues and both have attempted suicide, multiple times with Feral Aspie teen, still ongoing.

We talk openly about suicide at home and how it is the need to end something in a persons life - be it an emotion, a habit, a group of friends, bullying - but actually ending the life itself is not the answer.

Did you know suicide is the leading cause of death in our youth second only to car accidents?
And how many of those car 'accidents' aren't accidents?
Which leads to asking...how many farm 'accidents' aren't accidents?
How many 'accidental over doses' aren't accidental?
How many pedestrian accidents aren't 'accidents'?
The list goes on.

Our bright young children, our future, the next generation - these are our beloved babies, those little beings we guided to adolescence with their knee scrapes, birthdays, school reports and everything in between.

And they are killing themselves.

Not talking about it hasn't stemmed the suicide numbers.
How about we try openly discussing suicide to explain that it isn't the answer to every miserable feeling, it won't cure lovesickness, that it won't change the world... that the only thing it will achieve will be to snuff out their future chances of being on top of the world...and crush those who love them.

Heat stroke Xmas pressie Happy New Year!

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!

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.

Get behind our Victorian nurses!

I was going to waffle on about the hiccup we had yesterday with Feral Aspie - bullying at school, didn't speak to the teacher, couldn't go swimming due to the chopping of the ingrown toe nail, so the anger boiled up and over and boy, did we get splashed with the fall out.
I digress.

So, I've had a bug up my backside since the news broke that the Vic State Govt wants to not only increase nurses workload but that they seem to think PCAs can fill in and do the same job.
Plus increase the nurse : patient ratio that is currently 1 nurse to 4 patients
Because nurses need to increase their productivity.
So they reckon.
Ahuh.

Let's put this in basic terms...so basic that possibly even the dimwits in parliament may understand.
IF they ever actually think.

• We have a growing population.
• We need to keep pace with that growing population with all types of infrastructure that make up civilisation.
• We need to increase the hospitals, hospital services and hospital staff to address the increasing needs of that growing population.
• We need to INCREASE the pay of nurses to reflect the hard slog they do shift in, shift out, every week, keeping people alive, mending, healthy and well.
• We need to DECREASE their workload because they are the frontline in the defence of people's health, they are the ones who detect any abnormalities, any changes, any complications; they need to have less stress and workload to NOT miss vital clues to a patients state of health.
• In this day and age while there is an economic crisis everywhere you look but bigwigs keep awarding themselves pay rises for polishing chairs in the board room, it is indecent that nurses have to keep busting their balls (and many nurses, even females, have bloody big balls) to beg for the workplace ratios and pay to not only retain their workforce but to keep us general public alive in their care.

Victorian Police get my vote

In light of the recent criticisms of the Victorian Police for their lack of training in dealing with mentally ill people I felt they got a bit of a raw deal.

The many times we have had to call them out to assist with Feral Aspie they have been absolutely superb with immediate help, suggestions, calls to specialsts and hospitals; there was only 1 individual I disagreed with (and followed it up with a phone call to her the next day, sorted it because she was willing to listen) but that was through the misunderstanding Autism/Aspergers/ABI brings with the fluctuating behaviours not fitting into a strict mental health mould.

How often do you think the police escort a person to the nearest public hospital emergency room to get treatment for suicidal/unacceptable behaviours only to watch the person refuse admission/get told to see their private doctor/come back when there's an R in the month and waltz back onto the street - still in an unstable mental status - while the police are still filling in the paperwork for the call-out in the first place?
It happens very, very often.....

The system is not rigged to work for mental health patients; it is for regular, garden variety illnesses and, over the years, the mental health system (with patients, staff and differing problems/laws galore) has been forced to fit in alongside the over-stretched general health model, and now most times inside the over-stretched general health hospitals seeing as public specialist mental health hospitals got flogged off to the highest bidder *ahem*

And, let's be honest here, folks, it's not like the police are likely to be called to attend an afternoon soiree with a mentally ill person, to pass buttered finger buns and sip tea from bone china cups.
No, they usually get called out to help someone who has been let down by the garden variety health system; someone in mental distress who has become out of control for one reason or another.

This is what they are confronted with - the end result of a broken system.
I know I certainly couldn't do their job.
Could you?

Invisible disabilities

I'm tired of people dismissing the 'hidden' disabilities.
I don't mean just those who don't realise a disability is present, I'm talking about those Joe Blows on the street who think they have the right to query a diagnosis.
Because, dontchaknow, they've scrubbed public toilets for years (and sandblasted god-knows-what off the toilet seats) and they KNOW about medical stuffs!

My darling Feral Aspie already has depression, on top of his other 'invisible' disabilities like autism, Aspergers, Tourettes, ADHD, OCD, anxiety, etc, without stupid strangers making him feel responsible for  his behaviours.
We often get ignorant comments like "He doesn't seem that autistic," or "He seems fine to me,"  and even "Are you sure?".
So many times I've wanted to retort,
"Y'know,  we're not sure. We have no fecking idea cos you know how all those medical specialists are, just making stuff up off the top of their heads like that every day,"
*insert wild eyeball rolling and disgusted throat noises*

And the same goes for mental illnesses.
I've had the comment of "You seem too happy to be depressed."
I've wondered if they were waiting for me to open a vein for their entertainment...you know,
"Pass the hors d' oeuvres, there'll be a blood splatter pattern on the carpet any minute..."

I've nursed hospitalised teens in the grip of a drug-induced psychosis' where parents continued to supply them with illegal drugs because "He doesn't seem that bad,".
"No, that's due to the fact he's in a freakin' hospital, under medical care where we don't administer the illegal drugs that caused the problem in the first freakin' place..."

It's one thing for a schizophrenic to feel better once medicated then think they're 'cured' and no longer need medication but when idiots question the illness they compound the pressure that person is under and, subtly, infer that the person is a liar.
One gorgeous gal I nursed was often questioned about her schizophrenia by strangers and even family members, with her parents refusing to believe she had a mental illness because,
"Who else is going to look after us in our old age?"
30 years after her initial diagnosis her tea-total father claimed it was the single snifter of sherry she had after tea each night that caused her 'problems'.
Who knew sherry was so evil?!

We need to stop this immediate distrust when someone confides their diagnosis and accept it.
Hopefully the International Day of People with a Disability will get through to some people and stop this discrimination.
Check out Rudely Interrupted, the rock band headlining Queabeyan's Festival of Ability on December 1.
Festival of Ability.

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 :)

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.

Barefoot Beastie

I have the Feral Aspie teen at home for a few days as he has had part of his toenail permanently removed by a scalpel-wielding GP.
Thank Gawd!!!
Him being grumpy and irritable snapping "I dunno" when asked what the problem is makes for egg-shell walking at home.
Because he doesn't connect the pain in his foot with his irritable mood, being completely at odds with his emotions.

It's given him some breathing space from school, too, where he can relax and unwind, getting his head into a happier headspace before going back and managing the exams.
Which are causing all kinds of anxiety, no matter how much we reassure him.

I'm thinking the half-days he used to have as a youngster at primary school might be on our horizon, again.
With the increased heat, longer days and general angst with end of year exams, etc, I can see us bringing home a lot of his schoolwork to tackle it at home in the afternoons.
I may need to chat to the principal about part-time school and part-time homeschooling, to give Feral Aspie Beastie some time out and an escape from the bullies.
We'll see!

Some of The Secret Language explained

Ahhhh.
That's the sound of a deep, contented sigh.
My darling Feral Aspie geeky teen is getting some help through the school and is happy to discuss his issues.
Well, they are other kids' issues who have seen fit to make them Feral Aspie teen's issues but they are being dealt with.

We've done the usual "ignore them/ walk away/ don't speak back to them" speech for years.
And it is so much easier to say when you're not the person dealing with the angst, anxiety and fury at being the centre of someone else's bullying.
So, after another incident I sat him down and explained about "the secret language".

This is something you and I  (and probably the Man in the Moon) know about instinctively.
But teens (mostly of the male variety) and those with difficulties reading social behaviours don't 'get it'.

I explained that someone teasing/bullying him is handing power over themselves to the victim.
When the victim ignores them, the bully ends up with egg on their face, looking like an idiot in front of friends.
And no feedback from the victim to continue the teasing.

But the moment the victim responds to the bullying they are handing the power back to the bully, feeding the monster with attention and giving them ammunition to continue.

When an older student gave them a mouthful of abuse as he walked past the other day, Feral teen and a friend automatically responded in kind.
In hindsight he understood how this inflamed the situation into shocking volumes.
I explained him to think of the Mountain Gorilla, sitting up banging his chest and grunting out a challenge to other males.
This is how this student (and most male teens) behave.
The moment people respond in kind it is the equivilent of the second male gorilla meeting the challenge and agreeing to a physical fight.

Feral Aspie teen understood immediately when I put "the secret language" into similies that he knew.
And, I think, he is finally understanding the intelligence behind the oft-repeated "ignore them/walk away" instructions as not a means to let the bully off but to keep the power in his own hands (and himself safe).


And now he's off at the GP getting his ingrown toenail - also known as the underlying bane of our existence - seen to.

So, I shall be waving my not-so-magic wand and disappearing myself into the backyard!

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.

Confessions of a bored blogger

I have a confession to make.
I haven't blogged here for ages cos I found life...everything... boring.
Same old, same old; monumental meltdowns coupled with calls to emergency services, smashed up house, asking for help...and stress.
Oh, yes, that added extra every parent needs.
That was sarcasm dripping on the keyboard if you didn't notice.

If I found the whole thing as stimulating as watching bat shit dry, what could I offer you to read...the back of a cereal packet?

My gorgeous Feral Aspie teen has started back at mainstream school.
Thereby hangs a tale of mystery.
Through a series of events/circumstances/comments/attitudes, etc, he did not start at his school until AFTER the bully (who nearly caused him to have a complete breakdown in primary school) was EXPELLED from the very same school.
My Dad was looking after his beloved grandson.
This child of mine has laughed at ribbing earning grudging respect...he has come back with funny responses when someone has given him lip....he has been polite, well-mannered with his teachers....he has corrected smartarses who tried to prove him wrong in front of teachers (who backed him up), yesterday he braved name-calling on the bus to liberate some terracotta pots from hard rubbish for me.

Then this morning we got a call to tell us how much he is liked at school.
How much his teachers like him and like having him in their classes.
How impressed they are with his academic work.
How much the other kids like him.
How some have dubbed him "the coolest dude".

Our lives changed with his diagnosis at age 2, it changed again when he faced so many challenges at the start of school, then our existence changed again when the bullying got out of control for which I began homeschooling him.
Again our lives changed following his head injury and his behavioural change.
After 4 years of homeschooling he was ready to return to mainstream school and, through serendipity (his Pa watching over him) we found him the right school that was the right fit, with small classes, at the right time.

The sun is shining despite the pouring rain outside my window.
Our life has changed again after the phone call this morning.
My boys beautiful nature is having a chance to shine through once more.

Hey, honey, I'm hoooooooooooome!

So....
It's been awhile!
Gawd, looked at the last date on here and it's almost 2 months since I posted.

Haven't redecorated as yet....not for want of bits and bobs, although the hard rubbish drive was sadly disappointing this year as the recycling was done in the wee hours by people quieter than church mice (and if you've ever sat in a pew listening hard for church mice over the organ....you'll know how quiet those little critters really are).

Yeah, I have the oddest of thoughts skipping through my grey matter at times.
Along with the random hymn.
And redecorating plans.

We still have holes in the walls - with the warm weather coming on I'll probably procrastinate for some more months that it's extra air-con *rolls eyes at self* - although I'm toying with the idea of turning them into recessed shelving.
Yeah, yeah, doesn't every toilets need recessed shelving?
For the outdated Phantom comic books?

And in other news the Aspie geek teen is back in mainstream school.
Woohoo.
6 weeks to date.
It's been a blessing; he was ready to return to the school system, we found a nearby state school that caters to kids with learning difficulties (particularly Autism), they have smaller-than-usual class sizes/school population and so far it's a really good fit.

And I get a whole 7 hours to myself!
That is....if I can convince the spouse to bugger off outside to rediscover himself in the garden *snort*

Redecorating via The Spectrum

Oh look!
It's 2 minutes past the witching hour and moi is still awake!

"Midnight, one more night without sleepin'
Watchin', till the morning comes creepin'
Green door, what's that secret you're keepin'?"

C'mon, you know the words!
If old age has poked holes in your grey matter you can cheat and slip over here and do a quick refresher.
You're welcome for the ear-worm *insert wicked laughter*


Meanwhile....things are somewhat quieter here, that could be that Feral Aspie Teen has taken onboard tools to help him connect with his emotions (something that most Auties/Aspies have difficulty with).
Or he's just run out of plaster walls to batter.
Or his parents singing operas of Prisoner (the tv series) has traumatised the poor possum into silence *snort*


We're thinking outside the square to repair the walls....was going to go with wood panelling (Helloooooo, mid-1970s style!) but I'm thinking more corrugated iron....decorated steel mesh....stainless steel....industrial look....
Annnnd then we have the hard rubbish drive happening in the next month or so around these parts...
Whaaaaa?
I'm just sayin'.
Recycling...reusing....saving moolah....saving those poor hard rubbish collectors from injuring their backs....

Why they are NOT hacking my phone messages....

...apart from the fact that I am neither a celebrity or a victim of crime.
I'll give you a sample of my messages and you can probably figure the reason out for yourselves.

"Hello, Mrs XXX, this is the disability services, we've put you on the waiting list but we can't say how long you'll have to wait, we have yet to employ enough workers to cover the children we deal with now."

"This is Thingo from Such and Such school. Sorry, but your son doesn't qualify for our school setting, you'll have to look at mainstream high schools."

"Hi, this is Blah Blah from Private Specialist Practice and we've put you on the waiting list to see Specialist which will give you an appointment sometime in 2014 but don't worry if someone dies we'll push you forward."

"Hi, just returning your call re enrolling your son in our Autistic Specialist School; it seems his language isn't enough below par to qualify for our education setting. Maybe mainstream or a private school?"

"Hello. This is Crappity Crappity from the head injuries place. Just letting you know there's a 19 week waiting period for assessments."

"Hello, Mrs XXX, I've taken your details about your son and those responsible will get back to you about enrolling him at our school although you might have to look at other schools with integration streams closer to home or think about a private school."

"Hi! This is Sunshine Sally! I'm ringing to let you know that if you pay a minimum of several thousand dollars we can possibly fit your son in next Winter. Have a nice day! Byeeee!"

"Hi, just to let you know there's a lengthy waiting list to be enrolled at our school, I'd suggest you look into mainstream or private schools instead."

"Hello, this is Oblivious Clothead ringing to tell you that you missed out on funding due to the paperwork being filed under F for Forget on my desk and missing the financial year deadline. Maybe you'd better think about reapplying in another 12 months."

"Hi hon, this is your husband. Just to let you know I've been offered a few thousand dollars for my kidney but I could get several tens of thousands if I donate my spleen. Let me know what you think. They've promised I can wake up in a bath full of ice with no clothes and the possible bonus of an internal infection. Good, huh?!"

Hopes raised (again) but in a good way

The day arrived when the feral Aspie teen was sectioned (again) by the police and (Finally!!!) admitted to the adolescent psych unit.
C'mon, let's hear it....
About F'kn Time!

Yes, he'd lost the plot (again) and bashed us up (again) and we called the police (again) and thankfully one of the 4 who barrelled through the door in flak jackets with their capsicum spray at the ready (again) was a regular visitor while another had been here and had sectioned him on the other ocassion.

Gotta love the police when they can stand there and (later, after Aspie teen had calmed down) comment on how much the lad has grown since this policeman last eyeballed him *snort*

He's happy, he's settled, he's getting help, he's having to face up to a lot of things we've tried to help him with but he brushed off our suggestions (strangely they're the same things being suggested by the staff, lol always someone else), he's getting eyeballed and listened to and supervised and observed.

I'm just hoping that now he's got his toe inside the heavily-guarded hosp unit he (and we) can get on-going support for when he comes home.
But now, we take it one day at a time and thank the Gummy Mary there was a bed available for him when we desperately needed it.

Have a nap...or ten...

What a wild and woolly day it's been in Melbourne!
And under this roof, albeit for a short moment in the blip of the universe.
Aspie teen fell alseep after breakfast then after lunch, for no rhyme or reason, the grunting and punching started while he lay on the floor in front of us sitting on the couch so we studiously ignored him and passed insightful remarks about the TV show....
"That dress looks OW! quite nice on *gasp* her,"
"Yeah, she should OUCH! wear that OW! colour Ah ah ah ah! more AHHHHHH! often,"
"Did you grrrrrrrr! want another cup of Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! tea?"
"Thanks, but I'll OW! get it ouch!"

Needless to say our feet and shins are enormously grateful he was able to be talked down back into reality after briefly falling asleep.
Again.
Then he et a big tea...or rather he got me to feed him his meal (don't ask, it's a recent thing) then watched a bit of telly and promptly fell asleep.
Again.
Wish I could get to sleep as easily as he does....

A shower is not a conspiracy...really....

So, we're still alive.
We are black, blue, purple and brindle but we are still breathing.
Or so it's rumoured.
Staying on the quiet, keeping things even...steady....calm....
Sorta like holding back the waves of the ocean with your bare hands.
Yeah, and just as successful *snort*
-------------------------
Aspie teen has it set in his head that when he has a shower it HAS to be right before he goes to bed.
Not before and certainly not in any morning.
Unless he's got something on....then it takes days to get him psyched into an unscheduled shower.
So, tonight, we managed to talk him into having a hot, soothing shower to ease his aching muscles post-footy match in just 3 hours and without a major hiccup.
Mini meltdown that involved enough heavy breathing and wall-knocking stims that would make any Poltergeist happy certainly but it barely rated an  "oh, crap, not again " in light of recent events so we won't log that one.
Gave him a thorough back rub after the shower with the good old Deep Heat, then he was shocked at how much better his back felt and how much more easily he was able to move.
Yeah, we got vindicated, baby!!!!
Parents don't talk through a hole in their heads, woot!