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.
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
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!
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!
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 :)
Friday, November 18, 2011
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!
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!
Friday, November 4, 2011
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!
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!
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 :)
Monday, March 28, 2011
Do YOU socialise with 1000+ of your peers 5 days per week? Then you're just not socialising enough!
Right, you lot!
You, you and you - up the back, hiding behind the lamp post, chewing on your hair - you're all to come up here and give a public speech about how you all socialise with 1000+ of your peers every single day.
Come on now, surely you've been to school?
Surely you've been taught 'the proper way' to socialise with gazillions of total strangers you have nothing in common with and been taught to enjoy your discomfort even when most of them farted the alphabet in science class after egg sangas at lunch?
And, surely to goodness, you're continuing this tradition now that you're all growed up and socialised proper?
(the socialisation, not farting the alphabet around the water cooler to impress that weird work experience chick from accounting)
*rolls eyes*
No?!
What do you mean you "don't associate with that many people even at work" ????
Is this some kind of madness?
You've been to school, that's where you learn to socialise!
Maybe you didn't learn properly?!
I have been told that to ensure correct socialisation (which is apparently the cause of a teenager hearing voices and hurting himself) the answer is to send an anxiety-ridden, mentally unwell child back to an over-crowded secondary school.
Because, apparently, belonging to 4 different sporting clubs, a drama club, lapidary club, a social group with a social worker and psychologist on hand, not to forget having frequent excursions...none of these count.
Got to love those who are so rigid in their beliefs that homeschooled kids
A) don't get taught anything
B) have no socialisation
and repeat ad infinitum only what they know - that 'normal' schools are the only way to educate and teach kids to be social.
Cos, goodness knows, we all spend about 8-10 hours each day with over 1000 people, behaving in a socially acceptable manner at all times, never wishing to have time to ourselves and, because we are all Borgs/replicas none of us ever feel anxious/nervous/claustrophobic or stressed at sharing so much of our lives with these strangers we have little in common with.
Don't we...?
*No eyeballs were hurt in the making of this dribble*
You, you and you - up the back, hiding behind the lamp post, chewing on your hair - you're all to come up here and give a public speech about how you all socialise with 1000+ of your peers every single day.
*waiting....waiting...waiting...*
Come on now, surely you've been to school?
Surely you've been taught 'the proper way' to socialise with gazillions of total strangers you have nothing in common with and been taught to enjoy your discomfort even when most of them farted the alphabet in science class after egg sangas at lunch?
And, surely to goodness, you're continuing this tradition now that you're all growed up and socialised proper?
(the socialisation, not farting the alphabet around the water cooler to impress that weird work experience chick from accounting)
*rolls eyes*
No?!
What do you mean you "don't associate with that many people even at work" ????
Is this some kind of madness?
You've been to school, that's where you learn to socialise!
Maybe you didn't learn properly?!
*rolls eyes again*
I have been told that to ensure correct socialisation (which is apparently the cause of a teenager hearing voices and hurting himself) the answer is to send an anxiety-ridden, mentally unwell child back to an over-crowded secondary school.
Because, apparently, belonging to 4 different sporting clubs, a drama club, lapidary club, a social group with a social worker and psychologist on hand, not to forget having frequent excursions...none of these count.
*rolls eyes wildly until they fall out of head*
PlonkGot to love those who are so rigid in their beliefs that homeschooled kids
A) don't get taught anything
B) have no socialisation
and repeat ad infinitum only what they know - that 'normal' schools are the only way to educate and teach kids to be social.
*rolls pre-plonked eyeballs wildly across bench top in attempt to be sarcastic*
*avoids teabags on bench cos those sting eyeballs like a mofo*
Cos, goodness knows, we all spend about 8-10 hours each day with over 1000 people, behaving in a socially acceptable manner at all times, never wishing to have time to ourselves and, because we are all Borgs/replicas none of us ever feel anxious/nervous/claustrophobic or stressed at sharing so much of our lives with these strangers we have little in common with.
Don't we...?
*No eyeballs were hurt in the making of this dribble*
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Rocking the education thing the homeschooling fun way
So, this homeschooling bizzo got cranked up again.
Printed off a shedload of worksheets for Aspie teen to explore the Bunjilaka Gallery at the ever-fabulously-wonderful Melbourne Museum (available on the Melbourne Museum website).
This helps him know ahead of time what work is expected of him, how much work he has, the style of the questions, what he needs to look for and gives him time to get himself into the appropriate headspace.
Got the Aspie teen in there after lunch - after he'd had a minor meltdown over the fact that he'd outgrown a bajillion pairs of jeans ( and kept that fact to himself) and had nothing to wear (except the squillions of shorts he'd been living in for the past few months) but a quick trip to the op shop by his father got it sorted...and a couple of belts were bought as we had to ditch all the belts in the house after Certain Incidents happened a couple of times and hiding places were all found and the last time the police came........where was I again?
Oh, yeah, we got to the museum late but that was no biggie as we were concentrating on the one gallery and everything else was a bonus.
Sticking to the K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple Stupid) principal works well, totally removes the pressure and thekid teen is happily able to concentrate and learn.
He burbled about happily, filling in the worksheets, noting info, watching re-enactments/movies, filling his store of knowledge up a bit more and making mental connections between his previously learned info with the new facts he gleaned yesterday.
Cos he's a visual learner and presenting the practical component under his very nose what he'd learned the theory of suddenly pieces many seemingly random bits of info into a complex tapestry of facts in his mind.
Cos he was settled, under no pressure, no one was harping at him to finish the set work, to send it in by a certain date, to critique his knowledge and put a value on it.
No offense to teachers out there but that is how he feels, that he doesn't measure up cos he needs to take his time to focus, concentrate, absorb the information and process it without the pressure of time frames hanging over him, catching up/keeping up with peers or his never-far-away ingrained fear that he'll fail.
We popped into a few other galleries while we had the time and had a ball, the best was in the rainforest gallery where we we able to watch 2 male Satin Bowerbirds (the ones that collect all things blue) court and woo the equally gorgeous-but-adorned-in-green females of the species whilst weaving and building their nests.
Seriously, take your kids to see them, you'll never get that close to them in the wild and they are amazing!
Printed off a shedload of worksheets for Aspie teen to explore the Bunjilaka Gallery at the ever-fabulously-wonderful Melbourne Museum (available on the Melbourne Museum website).
Gotta love these critters...or, maybe...not?
I swear it was a Pokemon in another era...
I swear it was a Pokemon in another era...
This helps him know ahead of time what work is expected of him, how much work he has, the style of the questions, what he needs to look for and gives him time to get himself into the appropriate headspace.
A teaser!
A tempting little peek at the Big Future Tutenkhamun exhibit being unpacked...
Got the Aspie teen in there after lunch - after he'd had a minor meltdown over the fact that he'd outgrown a bajillion pairs of jeans ( and kept that fact to himself) and had nothing to wear (except the squillions of shorts he'd been living in for the past few months) but a quick trip to the op shop by his father got it sorted...and a couple of belts were bought as we had to ditch all the belts in the house after Certain Incidents happened a couple of times and hiding places were all found and the last time the police came........where was I again?
Oh, yeah, we got to the museum late but that was no biggie as we were concentrating on the one gallery and everything else was a bonus.
Thought of Jah Teh when I cast my baby blues over these magnificent samples.
Have plenty of shots of the other pretties, will post more in future posts.
Sticking to the K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple Stupid) principal works well, totally removes the pressure and the
He burbled about happily, filling in the worksheets, noting info, watching re-enactments/movies, filling his store of knowledge up a bit more and making mental connections between his previously learned info with the new facts he gleaned yesterday.
Cos he's a visual learner and presenting the practical component under his very nose what he'd learned the theory of suddenly pieces many seemingly random bits of info into a complex tapestry of facts in his mind.
Yes, even shoving this under his nose gets a big thumbs up.
Cos he was settled, under no pressure, no one was harping at him to finish the set work, to send it in by a certain date, to critique his knowledge and put a value on it.
No offense to teachers out there but that is how he feels, that he doesn't measure up cos he needs to take his time to focus, concentrate, absorb the information and process it without the pressure of time frames hanging over him, catching up/keeping up with peers or his never-far-away ingrained fear that he'll fail.
If fear of failure was to have a visage then I think this pretty much fits the profile.
We popped into a few other galleries while we had the time and had a ball, the best was in the rainforest gallery where we we able to watch 2 male Satin Bowerbirds (the ones that collect all things blue) court and woo the equally gorgeous-but-adorned-in-green females of the species whilst weaving and building their nests.
Seriously, take your kids to see them, you'll never get that close to them in the wild and they are amazing!
Got loads of pics, difficult to tell which one is which til I post them so I'll probably post more in later posts - really attractive birds so easy eye candy in any subject.
Go on, you know what caption I had in mind when I took this....
"Crabz! I haz them!"
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I'd rather he was in the chook house than up the tree
I'd rather he was in the chook house than up the treeYes, I really did utter that statement to Hubby last Saturday.
We looked at each other and snorted as we realised how bizarre it would sound to most people.
Well, he did the eye rolling/head shaking thing while I snorted enough for both of us.
Cos our son was in the chook house hiding from the police.
Again.
As you do.
The chooks were a tad put out but I'm sure, given time, they would have learnt to share the space.
Perhaps.
That's if the Aspie child hadn't tried to convince them to stand in front of him and hide him...Trinian and Latte apparently didn't get the memo on team playing and supporting the hand that feeds you so they galloped out of there, leaving him under the eyes of two lovely police people.
Then we did the usual merry-go-round dance of going to the children's via ambulance where more wonderful people bent over backwards to help.
Scary thing is we're starting to recognise the doctors and nurses who are starting to recognise us.
Next thing you know we'll be exchanging Chrissy pressies, inviting each other over for BBQs, calling each other BFF and swapping clothes....
No, wait!
Seriously.
I'd marry the gal who shared my shoe size only for the fact I'd never have to tackle the sales assistant for the Very.Last.Ever ladies size in Omgyourfeetarehumongouslady!
But, I digress...
So, after a gazillion appointments this week with a squillion more to come before TGI Friday kicks in, Aspie offspring is on new meds which appear to be helping (and, judging by his improved lap times, are probably a banned sports enhacing substance but, shhhh, we won't mention it to the swim coach).
Had a MILD moment this afternoon where he simply ran outside.
So I left him to it (after ascertaining he wasn't going to do anything silly).
Then we heard noises so we checked.
He was cleaning the spouting on the shed.
He keeps this up I'll hire him out...
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Swearing...and crap...and shitty stuff...see? Swearing. I told you so.
Here I am...again.
No, trying desperately for some jocularity but failing miserably.
So, I mightn't.
Try, that is.
It's worse prattling crap that is no where close to being funny.
So you just get the crap.
2 hospital visits, one on Sunday the other today.
Police were involved, too, with capsicum spray at the ready.
Again.
One thing different...knives were involved today.
Knives that have lived on a magnetic strip screwed to the kitchen wall for years HIGH up above our heads and the trusty Stanley knife in the shed.
Until Aspie teen had his growth spurt and is just taller than me.
Kitchen knives now locked in ugly orange toolbox, with an ugly padlock, tucked away out of sight under the kitchen bench.
No injuries, no skin broken, no blood happened...but only because his father scared him into dropping the first one and wrestled the second one off him.
Numb.
I feel numb...not so much as when someone dies but like everything is at a distance, like the old proverbial of looking at life through the bottom of a bottle.
Or...something.
Cos, apart from the knives, he's hearing voices.
Has been for ages.
But good old Denial is more than a river in Egypt and if you keep denying it those voices might disappear.
Yeah, when pigs fly backwards to the moon on Sundays for fresh fish from China.
Is he psychotic?
Probably, going by the behaviour and paranoid claims we've had thrown at us (along with the claw hammer, shoes, utensils, etc).
Is it schizophrenia?
Is it anxiety?
Is it the full moon turning blue in the 3rd house of Saturn when Taurus passes through the 2nd quarter?
Who freaking knows.
All I know is that those on the Autistic Spectrum do have the potential to start waltzing up close and personal with a mental illness, of any sort, variety and style.
Gotta love mental illness, it's an equal opportunity bullshit artist c**t.
No, trying desperately for some jocularity but failing miserably.
So, I mightn't.
Try, that is.
It's worse prattling crap that is no where close to being funny.
So you just get the crap.
2 hospital visits, one on Sunday the other today.
Police were involved, too, with capsicum spray at the ready.
Again.
One thing different...knives were involved today.
Knives that have lived on a magnetic strip screwed to the kitchen wall for years HIGH up above our heads and the trusty Stanley knife in the shed.
Until Aspie teen had his growth spurt and is just taller than me.
Kitchen knives now locked in ugly orange toolbox, with an ugly padlock, tucked away out of sight under the kitchen bench.
No injuries, no skin broken, no blood happened...but only because his father scared him into dropping the first one and wrestled the second one off him.
Numb.
I feel numb...not so much as when someone dies but like everything is at a distance, like the old proverbial of looking at life through the bottom of a bottle.
Or...something.
Cos, apart from the knives, he's hearing voices.
Has been for ages.
But good old Denial is more than a river in Egypt and if you keep denying it those voices might disappear.
Yeah, when pigs fly backwards to the moon on Sundays for fresh fish from China.
Is he psychotic?
Probably, going by the behaviour and paranoid claims we've had thrown at us (along with the claw hammer, shoes, utensils, etc).
Is it schizophrenia?
Is it anxiety?
Is it the full moon turning blue in the 3rd house of Saturn when Taurus passes through the 2nd quarter?
Who freaking knows.
All I know is that those on the Autistic Spectrum do have the potential to start waltzing up close and personal with a mental illness, of any sort, variety and style.
Gotta love mental illness, it's an equal opportunity bullshit artist c**t.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Balaclava Bagels nom nom nom nom nom nom
So, we're in February.
Where'd that month go!
Scared much?!
School starts on Friday for us here in Victoria - yeah, go figure, some bureaucrat was let loose with the calendar to pick a date, any date for kids to return to school and out of a whole calendar....they had to choose a Friday.
In Summer.
In what has turned out to be an uncivilised heatwave.
Ahuh.
Guess those monkeys are still running the nuthouse, eh?
Anyway, the feral Aspie teen is officially beginning distance ed on Friday.
Could be interesting.
Had him off to headspace today to see the psychiatrist - he's too complex and has been referred back to good old CAMHS.
But, despite the blistering heat, the furnace-like wind blasting the skin off our faces and drying our eyeballs into shrivelled up little prunes we managed to wrestle a smoked salmon, cream cheese with capers bagel from the ever delish Glicks Bakery nom nom nom nom nom nom.
I was good and merelydrooled salivated wildly watched while he et the delectable morsel.
Where'd that month go!
Scared much?!
School starts on Friday for us here in Victoria - yeah, go figure, some bureaucrat was let loose with the calendar to pick a date, any date for kids to return to school and out of a whole calendar....they had to choose a Friday.
In Summer.
In what has turned out to be an uncivilised heatwave.
Ahuh.
Guess those monkeys are still running the nuthouse, eh?
Anyway, the feral Aspie teen is officially beginning distance ed on Friday.
Could be interesting.
Had him off to headspace today to see the psychiatrist - he's too complex and has been referred back to good old CAMHS.
But, despite the blistering heat, the furnace-like wind blasting the skin off our faces and drying our eyeballs into shrivelled up little prunes we managed to wrestle a smoked salmon, cream cheese with capers bagel from the ever delish Glicks Bakery nom nom nom nom nom nom.
I was good and merely
Monday, January 24, 2011
Kickin' out the bulltish, cos life's too short for someone else's bulltish
It's been 1 week since Aspie teen had his appointment with the neurologist - which means it's been a whole week without a meltdown.
No over-riding anxiety, no panic attacks, no rage attacks, no fretting, no worry.
Nothing except my beautiful Aspie communicating with us.
He had a very minor moment when hubby and I were having a quiet disagreement over something trivial. He spoke to us - not screaming, not yelling, not smashing the house up but SPOKE to us - that
Umm.....how about, no?
When hubby and I explained to him that it would be a pretty bloody boring world if everyone was in complete agreement all the time he FINALLY told us the Ed Dept employed worker who was supposed to be teaching him social behaviour in his lunch hour at school was, in fact, indoctrinating him into some fairytale bulltish world, telling him mummies and daddies, and people in general, never, ever, ever disagree.
Which has merely fed his increasing anxiety over the years because once he's told something never, ever,ever happenes, It.Is.Carved.In.Stone.
But when it does happen...as it usually does.....it's off the Richter scale of WRONG for him, triggering anxiety, meltdowns, etc, as it's going against what he believes is right, it's out of his control therefore the fight-flight-or-freeze response kicks in...in his case it's usually the fight response.
Putting the finger on what causes this reaction has been difficult as not even Aspie teen has been able to verbalise or identify - until now - what the trigger is.
But this time....THIS time, we bested that beast and knocked it on the head!
Since then he's come to me and asked about things, checking if his behaviour is correct, if his understanding of particular social situations is on the ball or did he misread it.
In other words, the fight or flight response is (shhhhh, quietly now) perhaps....gone.
No over-riding anxiety, no panic attacks, no rage attacks, no fretting, no worry.
Nothing except my beautiful Aspie communicating with us.
He had a very minor moment when hubby and I were having a quiet disagreement over something trivial. He spoke to us - not screaming, not yelling, not smashing the house up but SPOKE to us - that
"Parents always have to agree, you're not supposed to have disagreements, all parents get along and don't disagree. People all have to get along, we shouldn't have disagreements cos that is wrong."
Umm.....how about, no?
When hubby and I explained to him that it would be a pretty bloody boring world if everyone was in complete agreement all the time he FINALLY told us the Ed Dept employed worker who was supposed to be teaching him social behaviour in his lunch hour at school was, in fact, indoctrinating him into some fairytale bulltish world, telling him mummies and daddies, and people in general, never, ever, ever disagree.
Which has merely fed his increasing anxiety over the years because once he's told something never, ever,ever happenes, It.Is.Carved.In.Stone.
But when it does happen...as it usually does.....it's off the Richter scale of WRONG for him, triggering anxiety, meltdowns, etc, as it's going against what he believes is right, it's out of his control therefore the fight-flight-or-freeze response kicks in...in his case it's usually the fight response.
Putting the finger on what causes this reaction has been difficult as not even Aspie teen has been able to verbalise or identify - until now - what the trigger is.
But this time....THIS time, we bested that beast and knocked it on the head!
Since then he's come to me and asked about things, checking if his behaviour is correct, if his understanding of particular social situations is on the ball or did he misread it.
In other words, the fight or flight response is (shhhhh, quietly now) perhaps....gone.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Black Balloon is my life...almost
Finally watched The Black Balloon last night.
Yeah, yeah, call me slow but the universe conspired against me seeing this movie until now.
Aspie teen insisted on watching it and had a few moments throughout, identifying with a number of behaviours and events.
The scene where Thomas goes nuts on his 16th birthday and things get broken?
A mere blink of an eyelid in our house; that scene goes on and on and on and on here, sometimes everyday, in one form or another.
The human services at the front door due to sticky nose neighbours?
Yep, had 'em here due to a new neighbour (who didn't want to meet anyone in the street) claiming we were tormenting Aspie toddler when we were trying to toilet train him.
Toilet training was a nightmare and deserves a whole post on its own.
No, seriously, it does.
And you will thank me for it.
Maybe.
The scene where the mainstream school kids are picking on Charlie?
Eldest daughter's high school was near Aspie boy's autistic school and a number of her (male) classmates found it necessary to stand near the fence at recess and inform the younger children of their correct titles their parents had forgotten to tell them.
Titles like retard, dipshit, spastic, fucktard, and others.
Eldest daughter tried defending the younger kids but was laughed at, which made her mad.
Teachers did nothing.
So she told her mummy.
Her mummy and Aspie boy met the ring leader on his way home from school one day and, seeing as he'd battled getting his message across large playing areas and a fence, he was politely offered the chance to inform Aspie boy to his face what his correct title was.
Sadly, the ring leader felt the need to start training for the 1 km dash and was last seen galloping down the street with a 4 year old in hot pursuit.
About a week later someone who looked like the former ring leader apologised to eldest daughter and Aspie boy.
I guess it took him a week to grow a pair of balls.
I digress.
The Black Balloon is my life...almost.
We will have Aspie teen living with us forever, we will have to troubleshoot a lot of life for him, we will have to continually explain things and correct his misconceptions.
But, unlike the movie ending, we will not be sharing a bath tub with him.....
Cos the little bugger WILL pee on our leg!
Yeah, yeah, call me slow but the universe conspired against me seeing this movie until now.
Aspie teen insisted on watching it and had a few moments throughout, identifying with a number of behaviours and events.
The scene where Thomas goes nuts on his 16th birthday and things get broken?
A mere blink of an eyelid in our house; that scene goes on and on and on and on here, sometimes everyday, in one form or another.
The human services at the front door due to sticky nose neighbours?
Yep, had 'em here due to a new neighbour (who didn't want to meet anyone in the street) claiming we were tormenting Aspie toddler when we were trying to toilet train him.
Toilet training was a nightmare and deserves a whole post on its own.
No, seriously, it does.
And you will thank me for it.
Maybe.
The scene where the mainstream school kids are picking on Charlie?
Eldest daughter's high school was near Aspie boy's autistic school and a number of her (male) classmates found it necessary to stand near the fence at recess and inform the younger children of their correct titles their parents had forgotten to tell them.
Titles like retard, dipshit, spastic, fucktard, and others.
Eldest daughter tried defending the younger kids but was laughed at, which made her mad.
Teachers did nothing.
So she told her mummy.
Her mummy and Aspie boy met the ring leader on his way home from school one day and, seeing as he'd battled getting his message across large playing areas and a fence, he was politely offered the chance to inform Aspie boy to his face what his correct title was.
Sadly, the ring leader felt the need to start training for the 1 km dash and was last seen galloping down the street with a 4 year old in hot pursuit.
About a week later someone who looked like the former ring leader apologised to eldest daughter and Aspie boy.
I guess it took him a week to grow a pair of balls.
I digress.
The Black Balloon is my life...almost.
We will have Aspie teen living with us forever, we will have to troubleshoot a lot of life for him, we will have to continually explain things and correct his misconceptions.
But, unlike the movie ending, we will not be sharing a bath tub with him.....
Cos the little bugger WILL pee on our leg!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Groundhog Day/time loop...shoving shyte uphill like Sisyphus
Sorry, Sisyphus only shoved a great thunderingly huge rock, not shyte.
Bet he wished he shoved shyte, instead.
I digress...
I get to experience a time loop each.and.every.single.fecking.day.
Think of it as Groundhog Day, repeating the same shyte over and over and over and over ad infinitum.
Until you finally correct your mistake (Groundhog Day film) and then time advances forward in a normal fashion once more.
Or, if you're lucky enough to be me, it doesn't.
You're stuck with the same thing happening over and over and over and over again ad infinitum.
Or until I drop dead.
That's if I'm allowed to die.
Could turn out to be one of those computer games where the damn characters get a bazillion lives to be smooshed, mauled, crashed and splattered any which way you can imagine.
So, do I try to change things to prevent the repetition? (I'm asked by well-meaning-but-brain-dead-people who don't know the difference between your/you're and smell of cod liver oil).
Why, golly gosh, that had never crossed my mind at all.*rolls eyes*
Yes, sarcasm, it's often wasted on these people as they don't recognise it unless they're slapped in the face with a wet fish and even then some are iffy.
Have I tried asking the Aspie teen what causes his fury? (Again, the imagaination of these twits knows many boundaries). *more wild eye rolling*
Have we tried medication/diet/exercise/running away to a circus?
No, although we pursued many meals of wild thistles sprinkled with imported free range slugs raised solely on organic strawberries and gooseberries whilst washing it down with jellied eels, sauteed worms then licking the back of a cane toad for recreational purposes.
And that was just for my father.
So, the time loop/Groundhog Day goes on....every day of 2011 so far.
I'm determined to find something decent in this year (typed through gritted teeth) even if I have to choke the living shyte out of this fecking 12 months and kick it to the kerb when it's replacement shows up in 361 days.
Bet he wished he shoved shyte, instead.
I digress...
I get to experience a time loop each.and.every.single.fecking.day.
Think of it as Groundhog Day, repeating the same shyte over and over and over and over ad infinitum.
Until you finally correct your mistake (Groundhog Day film) and then time advances forward in a normal fashion once more.
Or, if you're lucky enough to be me, it doesn't.
You're stuck with the same thing happening over and over and over and over again ad infinitum.
Or until I drop dead.
That's if I'm allowed to die.
Could turn out to be one of those computer games where the damn characters get a bazillion lives to be smooshed, mauled, crashed and splattered any which way you can imagine.
So, do I try to change things to prevent the repetition? (I'm asked by well-meaning-but-brain-dead-people who don't know the difference between your/you're and smell of cod liver oil).
Why, golly gosh, that had never crossed my mind at all.*rolls eyes*
Yes, sarcasm, it's often wasted on these people as they don't recognise it unless they're slapped in the face with a wet fish and even then some are iffy.
Have I tried asking the Aspie teen what causes his fury? (Again, the imagaination of these twits knows many boundaries). *more wild eye rolling*
Have we tried medication/diet/exercise/running away to a circus?
No, although we pursued many meals of wild thistles sprinkled with imported free range slugs raised solely on organic strawberries and gooseberries whilst washing it down with jellied eels, sauteed worms then licking the back of a cane toad for recreational purposes.
And that was just for my father.
So, the time loop/Groundhog Day goes on....every day of 2011 so far.
I'm determined to find something decent in this year (typed through gritted teeth) even if I have to choke the living shyte out of this fecking 12 months and kick it to the kerb when it's replacement shows up in 361 days.
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!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Wiggling the happy dance on the quiet
Dragged the Aspie offspring off to the paed this morning, he was a tad unwilling as he thought he was going to be in trouble so he impersonated a limpet and wrapped himself around his fathers ankles.
Yeah, his dad thought it was just dandy.
Not.
It's not like his paed is ever angry with anything Aspie kiddo says/does so we peeled him off his fathers legs and got him to the appointment.
Got several things sorted along with the importance of taking his medications every day without the barriers/excuses/waffle he keeps throwing into conversation (which result in meltdowns, big and little) when he's asked to take his meds.
Excuse me while I do a small happy dance over in the corner without the offspring noticing his weird mother too much.
*wiggle it, just a little bit*
Ahem.
So, tomorrow should be hunky dory.
In theory.
Let's see how sturdy theory really is *snort*.
Yeah, his dad thought it was just dandy.
Not.
It's not like his paed is ever angry with anything Aspie kiddo says/does so we peeled him off his fathers legs and got him to the appointment.
Got several things sorted along with the importance of taking his medications every day without the barriers/excuses/waffle he keeps throwing into conversation (which result in meltdowns, big and little) when he's asked to take his meds.
Excuse me while I do a small happy dance over in the corner without the offspring noticing his weird mother too much.
*wiggle it, just a little bit*
Ahem.
So, tomorrow should be hunky dory.
In theory.
Let's see how sturdy theory really is *snort*.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Stress/no stress
Today rocked.
It truly did.
My Aspie had an appointment with his beloved paediatrician who not only gives him great support and reassurance but today he saw Aspie teen's new anxiety manifestations in constantly clicking his fingers.
I know it's anxiety-driven but I can't figure out if it should be labelled a Tourette's tic or a stim...or even an OCD behaviour as he's sort of able to stop (sometimes) but he's got this overwhelming urge to keep going.
Anyways, the paed saw it and saw that verbal reassurance, coupled with hugs, back rubs and cuddles didn't cut the mustard, either.
It's interesting to note that while Aspie teen denied that he felt any anxiety or worry at the increasing noise of new patients in the waiting room his clicking increased when we walked out there.
I don't know if he's actually able to identify feelings of anxiety or stress as he's lived with them as a constant for so long it's like background noise.
We talked, oh so briefly as he was getting prickly, about stress on the way home and I tried to explain that many people don't realise they're stressed out or anxious until these behaviours appear.
At least I've sown the seed for him to think about and we might be able to discuss it further another day, soon.
It truly did.
My Aspie had an appointment with his beloved paediatrician who not only gives him great support and reassurance but today he saw Aspie teen's new anxiety manifestations in constantly clicking his fingers.
I know it's anxiety-driven but I can't figure out if it should be labelled a Tourette's tic or a stim...or even an OCD behaviour as he's sort of able to stop (sometimes) but he's got this overwhelming urge to keep going.
Anyways, the paed saw it and saw that verbal reassurance, coupled with hugs, back rubs and cuddles didn't cut the mustard, either.
It's interesting to note that while Aspie teen denied that he felt any anxiety or worry at the increasing noise of new patients in the waiting room his clicking increased when we walked out there.
I don't know if he's actually able to identify feelings of anxiety or stress as he's lived with them as a constant for so long it's like background noise.
We talked, oh so briefly as he was getting prickly, about stress on the way home and I tried to explain that many people don't realise they're stressed out or anxious until these behaviours appear.
At least I've sown the seed for him to think about and we might be able to discuss it further another day, soon.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Kyneton Museum, the regionals rock
Climbed aboard the country train with Aspie teen this morning and Kyneton (Central Victoria) was graced with our ever-so-slightly chilled presence on this brisk Winter's day.
Aspie teen loves the museums and galleries but I'm easing him into visiting regional ones ahead of the school hols so we don't have to miss out on his favourite obsessions that will otherwise, in Melbourne at least, be packed to the rafters with People!
And Kids!
Mostly Screaming Kids!
Which doesn't do wonders for his Aspergerian anxiety but school hols are only small interruptions and we're hitting the regionals, baby.
The Kyneton Museum is a gem, a loved-up local gem and one that you should seek out if you get the chance.
Situated in the former Bank of NSW (original 1860s building), they have exhibitions downstairs with the bank manager's residence upstairs fully furnished in the period of the day, with movement-activated recordings of what would have been usual conversations.
The stables, laundry, kitchen and 2-pot (a double bunger) outhouse are intact as is the original squatter's cottage, Theaden Homestead, again furnished in period style with recorded conversations of daily life.
Fabulous set up, run by friendly people and something I'd highly recommend to anyone.
We wandered up and down the streets and side-streets of Kyneton, admiring the Neo-Gothic churches, the beautiful architecture of many buildings inspired by the heady gold rush days right through to the Art Deco years and the many uses one can find for bluestone.
The town is a grand place to visit; we actually ran out of time (only 6 hours!) to complete our self-guided tour and so shall be returning at a later date to visit the cemetery, Botanic Gardens, the Farmer's Market (every 2nd Saturday in St Paul's Park) and the many little side streets that beckoned to our curiosity .
But for next week Aspie teen has chosen we shall visit Ballarat.
Aspie teen loves the museums and galleries but I'm easing him into visiting regional ones ahead of the school hols so we don't have to miss out on his favourite obsessions that will otherwise, in Melbourne at least, be packed to the rafters with People!
And Kids!
Mostly Screaming Kids!
Which doesn't do wonders for his Aspergerian anxiety but school hols are only small interruptions and we're hitting the regionals, baby.
The Kyneton Museum is a gem, a loved-up local gem and one that you should seek out if you get the chance.
The stables, laundry, kitchen and 2-pot (a double bunger) outhouse are intact as is the original squatter's cottage, Theaden Homestead, again furnished in period style with recorded conversations of daily life.
Fabulous set up, run by friendly people and something I'd highly recommend to anyone.
The town is a grand place to visit; we actually ran out of time (only 6 hours!) to complete our self-guided tour and so shall be returning at a later date to visit the cemetery, Botanic Gardens, the Farmer's Market (every 2nd Saturday in St Paul's Park) and the many little side streets that beckoned to our curiosity .
But for next week Aspie teen has chosen we shall visit Ballarat.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Meltdown averted
Today the lad is off on an excursion with his Russian school, which is a blessing as it's made him blend back into routine after the funeral otherwise he might have wound up having a meltdown and losing his shyte.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Farewells
This week my boy has had a rough time; the anxiety has been on top pitch with the excitment of meeting our friends from NSW, attending a presentation at the State Library and then the death of my cousin.
She was a lovely person who knew, intimately, as both a professional and as a mother the Autistic Spectrum and all the curve balls it could throw at a person.
She was a lovely person who knew, intimately, as both a professional and as a mother the Autistic Spectrum and all the curve balls it could throw at a person.
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