Buried

I have to take my daughter all over town tomorrow, and I have been super duper sleep deprived this week, thanks to whatever funk baby boy has been going through at night lately, and the fact that teen aspie got a little bit behind in his school work and I needed to help catch him up. To top it off, we are looking at yet another potential snow weather report. I realize that it's winter, and that I have chosen quite deliberately to live in the northeast United States, but crap. I'm too old.

Last month, I got up before 5 am (ok, a couple of those times I admit I was actually still awake) FIVE times to dig my husband's car and our not incredibly long driveway out of the snow before he would begin his thankless hour and a half commute to a not great paying but very steady in this crappy economy job. Did I mention I have fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, diabetes and am still recovering from a mini stroke from less than two years ago? And it's been effing cold, even for here. Maybe it's time for some cheese with this whine, but seriously, people, I moved out here so that life would be a little more EASY to handle.

So much for the simple life. I am seriously contemplating, although it will take an extraordinary amount of effort and a considerable amount of time, starting the process of moving back to the Los Angeles area. I will never commit to that in the long term, I really quite dislike Los Angeles in fact. It is dirty, crowded, expensive and scary. I won't even talk about what I thought of the people when I first moved there. Number one son was born there and he has rose colored memories of it, so he is totally on board. But I just want some place that's warmer, or at least not freaking cold. I am only thinking about L.A. since we soon will have a narrow window of opportunity to spend time with our parents while they are still on this earth.

I feel I have completely deprived both sets of our parents from a relationship with our little one. Granted, we weren't planning on any more pregnancies, and I had already committed to moving out here when the rabbit died, but still. I love the whole extended family concept, and our parents don't suck. We both have our issues to be sure, but one thing we both agree on wholeheartedly is that the grandparent - grandchild relationship should be encouraged on all fronts. My own bio mom is here, and the only reason she is was so that she could be with us. She can't wait to go back to Cali, and the second we do, she will probably book the Concord to zip past us on our way.

It's such a difficult decision. DD is twentyone, and there is a good chance she may not want to come along. For sure the economy needs to straigthen out a little before I would even think about creating a new resume for DH and starting that whole networking process. The stability at this address has been really good for all of us, and three years was the top amount of time we ever spent at any home in L.A.

It also means probably less available services for the kids, and the adoption benefits for any potential kids are not likely going to be half as good. Granted we are some years away from considering adoption/foster care again, but still. I have a hard time letting go or those dreams and the relationships we have established here. Even those in the family who want to go have a hard time adjusting to change, it's hard to believe that someone like me would be considered the MOST flexible in our family.

When you stack all that up against wanting a relationship for the kids and the grandparents, well all the former stuff just sort of falls away. Afterall, we moved out here in large part to have the opportunity for me and the kids to be near MY grandmother for the last few years of her life, and there is no price you could put on that. Despite the struggles and challenges, I can't regret that time I got to have with her. I know for sure I would regret not having that time for my kids with my parents.

Sigh, didn't I promise an uplifting post? I lied.

why don't you kick a puppy

I'm so sick of hearing people bash the octuplets mom. Obviously she isn't quite in her right mind, who is that would do such a thing on purpose? Why are people so inflamed about one person who did something kind of stupid? Don't we have other things to worry about?

I'm not really sure what fertility treatments have to do with this at all; a fertile woman can still irresponsibly have fourteen children without a job or a partner helping raise them or any visible means of support. Having eight at once does increase the risk that they will end up with no parent at all, and is very likely to cost a small fortune in not only immediate medical treatment but lifetime care needs. But either way, haven't we seen parents act selfishly and irresponsibly for a very long time? I don't vilify this particular woman, the cold hard facts are that she couldn't have done this without the help of a not very wise doctor. If you want to hang an irresponsibility label on someone, well, there's the culprit as far as I'm concerned.

In my not so humble opinion, we are a whole country of instant gratification junkies with poor judgment. What's extremely off putting about this particular situation to me is the whole "kill your parents, then cry Orphan" aspect. Jon and Kate have CHURCHES sell tickets on their behalf for speaking engagements. The octuplets' mom now has a website for begging. Who can blame the public for being a little miffed about paying for her manicures? I can't remember the last time I had a leg wax. It would be more cost effective to become a lesbian. And holy crap, has anyone seen Jon and Kate's new freaking mansion?

And who defines what responsible means? I was in a very low risk category, my husband and I had two college degrees, two incomes and everything still turned out crappy. My health was obliterated by pregnancy and birth, my baby turned out to have autism, and my husband had to take off six months of work to care for both of us; we ended up declaring bankruptcy despite careful planning and supposedly good health insurance. We would likely have ended up in a homeless shelter without the charity of our families. But never once would I have considered asking them to house and care for my fourteen kids. The person I feel sorry for is octuplets' grandma. Followed by the kids, I guess, who I just can't imagine aren't going to be neglected in some way.

But whatever. Why not care about something that matters instead. You know, like finding a cure for autism. Or the lack of housing for adults with disabilities. Or the lack of decent housing for low income families. I mean what the h do we pay taxes for city planners for? Or offering rehab for pregnant persons. Or insisting that neutral third party agencies create I.E.P.'s, not the schools who have a financial conflict of interest that have to execute them. Or reducing prescription drug costs for seniors. Or the millions of unemployed people who are becoming homeless. I could go on for days about the things that we should REALLY be indignant about.

Sigh. I didn't think my blog would turn into a "rant only" zone. Something positive coming next time, I promise.

Special Occasion

Family Ties

Today is my Grandmother's 70th birthday. She came to the United States from a small village in the Philippines. All four of her children went to school in the United States. School is where my dad met my mom, though he was originally born in the Philippines too. That makes me the first generation born through my dad’s line of the family in the United States. I am also the first grandchild to be born to my dad’s parents. My parents tell me all the time how happy my grandparents were when I was born.

I miss my grandmother so much because she means a lot to me; she was a big part of my life while I was growing up before we moved to Philadelphia. I wish I still lived near my grandmother so that I could see her as often as I could. My grandmother is so special because she used to baby sit me when I was little and take care of me when my mom went to work. I remember her reading a giant collection of Curious George stories to me for two straight hours. Sometimes my grandparents would take me to the mall and buy me pizza. Some of my favorite memories of my grandmother are when she made pancakes for me all the time. I hope someday soon we will move back to California so that I can see her and my grandfather more often. Soon, I will be old enough to go to college, and there are a lot of good universities in the Los Angeles area, so I think this dream might come true.

Fascination

One thing that really interests me is language. I don’t mean foreign languages, but rather, the method in which people use to express ideas. It really fascinates me how sounds that people make with their mouths can have meanings that are understood by people who hear it. Language is probably the best thing mankind has ever invented. I don’t where we would be if we didn’t have the ability to express our ideas to others. The only thing of which I can think is as good as it is written language. Written language allows us to record our thoughts as well as record history for future generations to remember. Without written language, we would most likely forget about our origins and who we are. Recording our thoughts allows us to see a pattern which helps us keep from making mistakes that were made in the past.

Another school assignment

**MOTHER'S NOTE: People with asperger's often have what is referred to in the literature as an "elevated sense of justice," which is actually used as a diagnostic marker. It is in fact one of the reasons that I thought T might actually really have asperger's when we first started researching symptoms. The following is one of his school assignments from early on in the year, and he means every word of it. He was slightly more than fifteen when he wrote it. When I read it, I couldn't help but think that it sounds like a much younger kid who still has a sense of black and white when it comes to right and wrong, someone who hasn't yet started to attempt real deceit in the course of pursuing self interest. It's actually one of the things I find endearing in what is otherwise a condition that I mostly wish he didn't have.


Why is it important to be honest?

Being honest is important. There are many reasons for being honest. Being honest keeps us from lying to others, as lying just gets people in more trouble. For example, if a child did something bad and then lied to his parents about it, and then they found out it was a lie, they would most likely be more angry at the fact that they were lied to rather than what their child did. Lying also forces one to keep telling more lies to cover up previous lies. They’ll eventually be trapped with no way out other than to just tell the truth. Lying will also cause people to trust us less. Being dishonest almost always comes back to haunt you.

Being honest allows us to avoid these problems. Being honest allows us to be truthful to others and ourselves. It is also important when being honest to be careful not to hurt some else’s feelings. For example, if a friend came and asked you what you thought of their new clothes and you told them you thought that they were hideous, they would be really offended. You could instead tell them that your taste is different from their taste, and then you would be honest without hurting their feelings.

A really good book that my mom suggested for me

Born On a Blue Day

I recently read the book, Born On A Blue Day, by Daniel Tammet, which is about a man who has Asperger’s Syndrome, like myself. It talks about his life growing up as well as his adulthood, mostly in regards to how he copes with being autistic. It was very interesting to me about how Daniel lived his life and how he now manages himself independently. It gives me a lot of hope for my own future. I was especially fascinated by the part where he talked about how he was really good at learning languages; I myself am really involved in learning languages.

Another thing in the book that really captivated me was how he was really good at expressing his ideas, which is something unusual for a lot of people with autism. This gives me more optimism for career prospects as I want to become a writer when I grow up. I also found several characteristics about Daniel that I could relate to, such as how he is sensitive to sounds and being touched. He also thinks literally and is puzzled when he hears someone use figurative speech; he does things that he doesn’t realize are not socially appropriate. Fortunately, he has found ways to cope. I myself am also trying to find ways to cope. This book for me is not just a story, it’s an inspiration.

Getting away from the world

When I want to get away from the world, I go into my own head where everything is peaceful and everything that bothers me does not exist. To get there, I sit in the corner of the room where I am isolated from everyone else and I think of things I like. I don’t always have to sit in the corner though, I can just sit anywhere and close my eyes, but it’s not as convenient because of the commotion made by everyone else in the room. Of course, I have headphones that I can put on and blast loud music in my ears to block out the sounds around me. After thinking about stuff I like, I end up in the place in my head where they are and I can enjoy myself there. The things I like to think about are usually the settings of my favorite stories, then, I get to live through the adventures of the favorite story book characters. Except, I usually do things differently than from what the main characters did, as well as I replace the supporting characters with my own; both of those make the story more interesting for me. I do not want to go through the exact same events that the characters from the original story did because I already read it and it would be boring for me. Although, sometimes I don’t do anything I my own little world and I just sit with my thoughts, and with that alone is perfect me for to get away from the world.

Collaboration

Tonight my son had a homework assignment including writing a poem in a certain style. Composition is not his strong point, so we did a few practice exercises. T often needs a little extra demonstration and cueing before he absorbs something, he has a very low processing speed. But once he gets something, it usually sticks. Anyway, we were discussing using autism as a possible subject for this particular creative writing assignment (I am inducting him into my autism awareness army), and he was describing himself in comparison to "normal" people. Or at least what his perception of normal people is. Here is one of our "practice" poems as a result of this exercise:

sound is too loud
light is too bright
touch is too hard
shirts are too scratchy
needs I can’t describe
feelings I can’t explain
crowds are too many
motion is too much
that is how I am
that is autism

I'm not dead yet

ok, this is supposed to be MY blog with MY writing, but this is just too funny not to share.



Stud Rooster

A farmer went out one day and bought a brand new stud rooster for his chicken coop. The new rooster struts over to the old rooster and says,

"OK old fart, time for you to retire."

The old rooster replies, "Come on, surely you cannot handle ALL of these chickens. Look what it has done to me. Can't you just let me have the two old hens over in the corner?" The young rooster says, "Beat it: You are washed up and I am taking over."

The old rooster says, "I tell you what, young stud. I will race you around the farmhouse. Whoever wins gets the exclusive domain over the entire chicken coop."

The young rooster laughs. "You know you don't stand a chance, old man. So, just to be fair, I will give you a head start."

The old rooster takes off running. About 15 seconds later the young rooster takes off running after him. They round the front porch of the farmhouse and the young rooster has closed the gap. He is only about 5 feet behind the old rooster and gaining fast.

The farmer, meanwhile, is sitting in his usual spot on the front porch when he sees the roosters running by. The Old Rooster is squawking and running as hard as he can. The Farmer grabs his shotgun and - BOOM - he blows the young rooster to bits. The farmer sadly shakes his head and says,

"Darn.....third gay rooster I bought this month."

Moral of this story?

Don't mess with the OLD FARTS - age, skill, wisdom, and a little treachery will always overcome youth and arrogance!