April 2, 2013 by Marj Hatzell
Hi! Did you miss me? My mid-life crisis is over and I dyed my hair back to orange, wanna see?
Got sick of the pink. I don’t even like pink. Why did I do it? PEER PRESSURE (Stark. Raving. Mad. Mommy. Made me do it).
Anywho, since the last time all ten of you stopped by, my life kept going (as it does) and I was up to my eyeballs as usual (as it happens) and I got overwhelmed again (as one does) and here I am a few weeks later, meds adjusted, clean bill of health, finished PT (thank you baby Jebus) and feeling more like my old self again.
And the other people in my family are just peachy, too. In fact, things are SO AWESOME around here I’m waiting for the proverbial “other shoe” to drop.
See, the Apples don’t fall far from the tree. In this metaphor the Apples are MY KIDS and the Tree is ME (and The Guy I live With). In other words, when we’re exasperated about their quirks and behaviors, we really don’t need to look that far to figure out where they get some of this stuff.
Like Bugaboo’s energy level? They haven’t called me Energizer Bunny for years for nothing (and TGILW isn’t any different).
Bug Boy’s drama and emotion? Your’s truly!
Bug Boy’s hunger for learning and nose stuck in a book at all times?Yep! Me again!
Bugaboo’s athletic ability and amazingly advanced motor skills? Actually, we haven’t a clue where that comes from because The Guy and I are about as coordinated as a bag of rocks.
Let’s just say we’ve had our share of stitches, broken bones, injuries and the like. So clearly that one was inborn or there was a mixup in the hospital nursery. Except we know he’s ours because he can also fall off of chairs (like his brother) when sitting perfectly still and get a bruise just by thinking about walking.
Then there are the boys’ quirks. Like the autism, ADHD, OCD and stuff. If you think about it, it’s REALLY not a mystery to see where all of it comes from. Let’s just say that when I was a kid I washed my feet obsessively. And my hands. I do everything in the same order every day (like my shower) and I need lists to function. I can’t order a pizza because calling for takeout gives me major anxiety. When I have to make phone calls I actually have to SCRIPT WHAT I SAY. The husband? Won’t even answer the phone. Texting and social media was made for people like us.
Sensory issues? You name it, we’ve got ’em. I’m the “NATURAL FIBERS ONLY, no tags, smells and lights make me stabby” variety. Husband is “I can pick noodles out of a boiling pot, NOISE IS TEH DEBIL, FLOWERS MUST DIE” variety. Our kids are a perfect combination of both. One is easily over-stimulated, the other one needs a fire lit under him to notice anything (and he’s touched fire before!).
You smell what I’m cooking here? (But I don’t like the smell of cooked meat in my house. Hence, we grill 365. No joke).
As for the World Autism Day, I thought I’d link to a few posts from years past. Just so you can get an idea of what we think.
I was talking to the Bug Boy today when he got home today. We chatted about Autism Awareness Month and how some folks wanna change it to Autism Acceptance Day/Month. We talked about what he thought about having “a disorder” and how he felt about terminology. I’m loving that we can have these in-depth discussions these days. I love getting his insight. That’s when we talked about self-advocates and parents and how parents can’t be the only voices. And why adults with autism have a voice and why their voice is just as important, if not more-so, than parents.
Which is when he gave me stink-eye. And said, “Uh, Mom? Soooo you’re autistic, you know.”
And proceeded to list the reasons why he felt I was. And I couldn’t argue with any of it. Not one bit of it.
See, we are AWARE of autism. Now, to get people to accept it.