is it a serious illness?

It starts out the same. I want to lie down and get under a blanket, only getting up to use the bathroom. The next day, I throw up. Then fever, then body aches. Usually a very stiff neck. It's hard to find a position where I'm comfortable. Sometimes I get headaches. Now that it's happened like four times, I feel like "here it comes."

Usually I figure it's going to go away. I don't want to see a doctor. I don't want to talk to anybody. One time it turned into appendicitis, and that was hell. I had to go to a god awful hospital, but I'm glad I didn't die. Getting sick is no fun at all. I wish it didn't happen so easily. I hate it when it stops me from doing the things I like to do, like surfing the internet and reading my language books.

I am obsessed with learning languages. I think it's part of my asperger's. I just think it's fun, like a new game. I like learning new ways for expressing ideas. Learning new languages gives me a new perspective. I'm really good at learning new languages. When I start learning, I usually start with learning the pronouns and then the verb conjugations. Once I’ve done that, I start learning the other parts of speech. After I’ve learned the basics of the language’s grammar, I just focus on learning new vocabulary words and practice using them in sentences. Afterwards, I just keep going until I've become really good at it. Then, when I've learned enough, I start listening to music in the language I've learned, watching movies in the language and reading books in the language.

Autism for me means being a little fussier, thinking a little differently. I assume people who have minds that don't have autism have an easier time explaining their thinking. My life seems normal to me. But I think other people have lives that are very different. School is a struggle for me. I feel like I need special care taken of me that other people don't need. I am very literal. I have a hard describing things with words. Sometimes I see images, but mostly I just feel a certain way and I can't put it into words. Some people think autism is a serious illness, but for me it's just being different. I would rather be autistic than be really sick or have cancer or be blind or deaf or mute. Actually if I was mute, than no one would expect me to talk. I'm bad at talking. It's awkward. It's kind of ironic, because I love to learn languages. Learning more languages makes me feel less isolated from a lot of things in the world. I think it will open doors for me.

I feel weird. I would like not to be autistic if I had the choice, I think I would be much more comfortable in the world. I get stressed out to easily. I am too anxious. I would be worried about taking medicine for anxiety though, because addicts have terrible lives. I would be afraid that I would be addicted if I took drugs. It's just best to stay away from them. Maybe there will be another kind of cure someday.

mundane yet scary moments

It is 2:30 am and I am up with my teen aspie. Usually I go out of my way to chase him into bed (he is always the last to go, excepting me of course) so I can have a couple or more hours to myself at night. It is all the peace I ever get, so it is precious to me. But now I am keeping a close eye on him. He has a fever of 104, and it's bringing back frightening memories.

Two years ago my husband and I agonized over whether or not to let T travel alone on a plane, as well as let him spend 10 days in Los Angeles (clear across the country) by himself visiting family members. He had just turned thirteen, but was extremely vulnerable. He was a little nervous about the travel aspect, but he really wanted to see his godfather and grandparents; so after much hemming and hawing, we decided to risk it and let him go. We felt so guilty that we hadn't been able to visit L.A. as much as we had originally planned when we had moved away from there five years earlier. We knew it was important for T to be able to maintain his relationships with those key people in his life, so off he went. Very bad decision. VERY bad decision, for which he almost paid with his life.

We were sending T to people who adore him most on earth. But they also didn't know anything about autism, and worse, they didn't want to HEAR anything about autism. Frankly, I don't think we acknowledged it's depth ourselves. I sent mini email lectures, and I just mostly prayed that the odds would be in our favor, and nothing bad would happen. My greatest fear was that T might wander off somewhere, but at age 13 (probably more like 8 or 9 in social maturity years), I figured he would probably be able to communicate well enough with strange adults if necessary to resolve any problems that might arise. We were anticipating that he might have social issues, if anything, but it was emergency illness that reared it's ugly head.

T had been so sick as an infant and toddler in response to his vaccinations, which was, like many other autism parents, our PRIMARY complaint. We didn't even KNOW he was autistic, because his behaviors were very mild, and his developmental delays were not that apparent back at age 6, especially for us first time parents who had no neuro typical children to compare him with. From age 5 to age 6 we often called him the plastic bubble boy, because it seemed like all he needed to become ill at that time was to merely step outside our front door. He had never been a really well child, the first year was consumed with colic, rashes, and food intolerances, he didn't sleep through the night until his third birthday, and it was difficult for him to gain weight. He had HUGE allergy shiners, and some bowel issues. He had gastroesophageal reflux for quite sometime (though they refused to medicate toddlers for this back then). During his fifth birthday "well" exam, in anticipation of possibly starting public school in the fall, we REALLY piled on the vaccines, and that was the final straw that broke the camel's back. T was sick immediately, and then with a new cold or bug every few weeks for a YEAR. I think of that time as our year in "isolation" because we hardly went anywhere or saw anybody.

But after a year of biomedical treatment, T had really rallied, and became much stronger in body and spirit. From age 7 to 8, T had a healthy appetite, collected friends like trading cards, played actively outside riding his bike, running around with the dogs in the yard, took long walks with me, couldn't wait to get in the pool, suddenly started to read like a rocket taking off. I loved it. Then I went and wrecked it by having another baby and moving to the middle of nowhere. Just a few weeks after the baby was born, my dh lost his job, and a few months shy of baby's first birthday, my dh moved back to L.A. for a year to work for his old company in an effort to staunch our financial bleeding. T was absolutely miserable, although our first couple years here, he still had friends and space to roam around. But losing Daddy for an entire year was absolute emotional torture for the boy, and who could blame him?

When dh moved back to us a year later (thank you jesus for that local job), life was a little better, but there was no doubt some damage had been done. For one thing, dh himself was in the throes of a moderate depression thanks to our long separation, and it definitely trickled downhill. Also, T was starting puberty, and though we had noticed some signs of OCD previous to that, suddenly his anxiety level seemed much higher. This was only compounded by my need to have support in his middle school years, and for the first time we enrolled him in a structured cyber school program that was a HUGE adjustment from the "unschooling" we had been practicing ever since birth. By the end of that first school year, T was so stressed out that we were thinking a trip to L.A. seemed like just the ticket for his woes.

We prepared him for the trip with social stories, I put a long list of phone numbers in his wallet, I loaded my cell phone up with minutes and let him borrow it for the trip. I made sure he had his medical insurance card, and I even called his old doctor in L.A. to dig his old records out of the archives "just in case" anything came up. Well something came up alright, and it turned out to be appendicitis, the perforated, life-threatening variety. Worse, since we weren't there with him, there was no one to rate the relevance of his symtoms, including him. T's godfather took him to his old doctor's office, but they brushed off the importance of him seeing his old specific pediatrician (who would have remembered him and his idiosyncracies) and instead pawned T off on a new partner (though old in years, and cranky) who was irritated that his godfather didn't know T's medical history better. Why should he? T was on VACATION for pete's sake, with RELATIVES.

Making the problem much more complex is a common symptom of autism: T doesn't process pain the same way neuro typical persons do. In fact, if something is really bothering him, he wants to crawl into bed under three feet of covers, and not talk to anyone or move. He certainly has a hard time advocating for himself in those situations, and cannot relate the weight or significance of his discomfort to others without a lot of support from someone who knows him very very well. The cranky old man wrote him off as having a stomach bug, and sent him on his way. He had no way of knowing how rare it is for T to complain about anything, or to vomit. A couple days later, T's poor frustrated godfather took him to another doctor at an urgent care facility, who was basically Mr. Don't Give a Damn. I believe he was so generous as to give T a prescription for augmentin, which is one of the worst antibiotics you can give to a child who has an upset stomach. Jackass.

It was killing me. T was talking to me everynight, and telling me how awful he felt. I knew that he was desperately wishing I was there. The bond between us is very very strong, and I felt a hard tug and major internal conflict. Not only could we not afford the astronomical cost of an immediate flight (or one with notice for that matter), but it would have meant leaving my aspie four year old and trying to find coverage for him while I was gone for who knows how long. Of course if I had known that T had appendicitis, you couldn't have kept me away for any reason. But all I knew was that he was miserable, and that two doctors had deemed it unremarkable, and that the other adults around him either didn't have the sense that it was life threatening (though they were definitely concerned), or couldn't convey that to us. It was probably the greatest turmoil of my life.

By the grace of god, T's body worked as it should, and his immune system rallied temporarily to prevent and fight infection. When we got him back on our coast a week after his illness started, I could tell he was a long way from better. I went to our health food pharmacy for supplies and settled in to bring him back. After a few days there was not only no improvement, but a definite decline, and I insisted on taking him into the doctor's office on a weekend. To this day, I credit his pediatrician with saving his life, because she took a short look at him and sent us straight to the emergency room at A.I. Dupont Hospital for Children in Wilmington Delaware. After a few hours of observation, they called in a surgeon for an exploratory procedure.

I refused to consent until I had the chance to speak directly with the main cheese, because the residents around me had not inspired me with confidence, mostly due to their poor ability to communicate. I felt very comforted by the fact that I recognized the surgeon immediately as the same doctor who had performed a life saving surgery on my baby just a few years earlier only six weeks after his birth when we discovered he had a twisted intestine. The surgeon told me he guessed what T's problem was, but couldn't be sure, but at any rate, they would find out when they got in there.

For the next week, I was something of a celebrity while T recovered. Complete strangers stopped me in the hallways of the hospital where my hubby and I alternated to provide 24 hour coverage for T during his stay. Everyone wanted to hear the story and share their amazement at how a child whose appendix had actually perforated and was untreated - across the country no less - was still alive. I'll never forget the look on the surgeon's face when he came out to tell us that T would be ok - it's never a good moment when you see a doctor in shock - but it's also a rare moment when you hear them tell you how wrong they were and that they can hardly believe what they saw.

NO ONE in the operating room was expecting the sight with which they were presented when they cut T open, and I got to hear more gory details than I ever wanted as they told me how they removed a litre and a half of fluid from T's abdomen, and how the inflammation was so bad that it had completely cut off his intestines from passing anything through. In fact, the appendix was so inflamed that they couldn't remove it! The surgeon told me that he cut off the blood supply to the appendix, and that it would probably shrivel up and chances were good it wouldn't even need to be removed. Best of all, by the grace of god, T had not one spot of necrosis. Most of all, they couldn't believe that T wasn't screaming with pain or acting out as they would expect from a child with his condition. I think back now that I should have used that moment to try to raise awareness. T is far from the only child with a disability who can't communicate his symptoms in an expected fashion.

T has never fully recovered since the surgery though it has been more than two years now. It's a big part of the reason that I have decided to try biomedical treatment again. He's constantly fatigued and achy, but he rarely complains. Today's fever is the first in a long time, and it's scary. Most people would probably make note of a temperature of 104. Instead, T stayed in bed, keeping to himself, wanting to be left alone. He was miserable, but it didn't occur to him to call and tell his mom that he didn't feel well. I was actually angry with him, because I took my daughter to the doctor's today, which is some distance from our house. While I was there, I took advantage of the gas expended and ran a few errands in the neighborhood.

I told T to call me if he needed me, but he didn't think it was worth the bother. When I got home too late for his doctor's office hours, I was pretty mad to discover the 104 fever. I could have been home sooner if I'd known, I could have taken him to his doctor, who knows him, who would know if this was something to take very seriously. Instead it's after 4 am now, and I'm afraid to go to sleep, in case I need to run him to the emergency room, where I expect that they will most likely dismiss T unless he's five minutes from death. T almost never gets a fever, but they don't know that. It won't seem unusual to them. T almost never vomits, but it won't concern them, because it's only to be expected if one get's a stomach bug. For anyone else, withdrawing and moaning will seem par for the course. I feel so helpless right now, just keeping my vigil and praying that he bounces right back, or at least doesn't deteriorate rapidly while no one notices that it's critical. Hopefully my husband will be up in an hour, and he can let me get some sleep while he keeps watch until the doctor's office opens. It might be nothing, or it might be everything. I wish I didn't know how fragile life can be.

IEP progress: so far, so good

This is the fourth year T has been enrolled in a cyber charter school (which means he's still schooled primarily in the house, but someone else picks the curriculum, and he has a different teacher for each individual class). This is the first year T has said "school doesn't suck." And it's all because of baby's first Individualized Education Plan.

With educational psychology evaluation in hand, and after fighting to proove that T was not at grade level despite mostly all A's on his report cards, we had our first IEP meeting last June. I knew the real test would come after the school year started, and now that we are almost at the end of the first quarter, I have to say that I'm impressed.

The school has MOSTLY done what they said they would, and most importantly, T doesn't hate school for the first time in four years. YIPPEE! In fact, he's ALMOST enjoying it. Now I know that school doesn't exist for the sheer entertainment value of it, but still, being happy while you're learning I think improves the quantity of what you explore and the quality of what you retain. Anyway, T is working hard and learning a lot, and I finally have a NORMAL amount of contribution as the official home facilitator.

The biggest provision T has is a reduced course load to accommodate his low processing speed. Instead of 8 or 9 classes, this year he has only six; in fact they offered him only five and he ASKED for a sixth. Basically it boils down to he has only two core courses instead of four (language arts and math but no science or social studies), two foreign languages (german and spanish, and he's studying polish, latin and eperantu on his own), something called career awareness (which I thought would be a total mick class but isn't), and a Resource class (which so far IS a mick class). He is supposed to have assignments modified for him if they are too long or ambiguous, and so far that's turning out to characterize his assignments in his career awareness class, but no modifications have been forthcoming. Don't care. He had originally a college prep language arts class, but it was over his head as the materials dealt with complex social issues, so they bumped that down to a special ed class, same grade level. He LOVES it.

So far the teacher asks simple questions about fables and greek myths, and he can handle most of them on his own. She also gives simple prompts for creative writing, and so far T is her favorite pupil in that area. I have to admit I think his stuff is really good, and he has had an enormous challenge in prior years in this area. BIG sigh of relief. I think this class will supply the missing steps or gaps in knowledge or bridge the delays he had, and since he will have extra time to complete high school, he will most likely "catch up" before he graduates. HURRAY!

On to the gifted area - algebra 1. Did I mention T has been completely self taught in math since he was born? So far it looks like he will complete the entire year's work during the first semester, so now I have to see what the school will be willing to do, maybe give him geometry or something during the second semester. Pretty impressive. Some of the credit has to go to the online interactive math curriculum otherwise known as ALEKS. T wasn't picking up the more complex stuff from lectures or text books, if we didn't have ALEKS, I'm sure he'd been behind schedule, not even current much less ahead.

The languages are the most dramatic evidence to me of the gifts of asperger's - the school didn't want him to have two foreign languages at once, but I begged and whined until they gave in, using the rationalization of a balanced schedule or some such nonsense. The truth is he just loves them so much that I wanted him to have them. His assigned resource teacher has been really great and somehow she managed to get the ball rolling.

Officially he has a "resource" class too, but so far this has turned out to be lots of requests for students to check in and discuss any challenges they are having in their other classes. Not too taxing. Probably not worth any credit. Who cares. I'm just glad he has the resource of the teacher, though the IEP itself is taking care of most of T's previous woes.

The career awareness class has very cumbersome assignments with ambiguously worded directions, and the teacher who has it is absolutely outstanding but spread way too thin this year. T keeps emailing him with questions, but they go unreturned. And the resource teacher hasn't been able to reach him herself, so the modification option hasn't been exercised either. I am highly in favor of any course that makes the kids contemplate the future, but so far this one isn't working out real well. You can't have everything! But I would be much more distressed if he wasn't doing well in any of his other courses, the ones that really matter as far as I'm concerned.

But so far overall, the ten to twelve hour days are a thing of the past. T is supposed to have occupational therapy too in order to deal with his dysgraphia, but the only provider they've offered so far is almost an hour's drive away, and that would make him miserable. I've never tried asking his doctor about motion sickness, but I think the school should do better than an hour drive anyway. That is just unreasonable. But that seems like a minor quibble. I am still trying to figure out what language skills to have him evaluated for, I know if I don't ask for just the right thing, I won't necessarily get what he needs.

I was also supposed to be working on getting wraparound services this fall, but I've been so freaking busy with dd's transition to college and continued CBT, not to mention I just barely filed our taxes before the extension deadline a week ago. With all our medical bills from my stroke plus shutting down our non profit ministry, things were a little trickier with our return this year than what I was used to. The good news is that we consulted a tax attorney who also has a daughter with a learning disability, and he has a specialty in fighting schools to compel educational services for special needs kids. Yay! Never know when we might need that.

A couple days ago I was also fortunate enough to meet with a mommy who was an attorney in her previous life; she now runs an LD podcast/blog, and she gave me a million great ideas. If I could figure out how to put links in blogs I would do it, but if you can copy ldpodcast.com into your browser, that should do the trick. I'm getting so much information from it. It was also nice to have grown up conversation without needy children around for a couple of hours too.

choosing DAN and considering going public

Ok, two things, quickly. Well, quick for me, the long winded narcissist.

One is that I have officially decided to seek assistance from a DAN doctor. I think DAN stands for Defeat Autism Now, but what I'm looking for basically is someone who will help my teenage aspie with biomedical treatments. We went down this road almost ten years ago, before I had ever heard of biomedical approaches to autism, before I really even new that my son had autism. Unfortunately, though I considered the treatment a great success and saw HUGE improvements in my son's health, we have moved clear across the country away from the doctor that we used back then.

T has had serious fatigue issues ever since his perforated appendicitis two years ago that almost killed him before we figured out what was going on, just in time for him to have life saving surgery. I would say that he definitely needed the heavy duty antibiotics that he had at the time, but my best guess is that fungus has returned to haunt his poor intestines, and I don't think I can battle it anymore myself without support. His regular doctor is not concerned, he is not used to seeing kids with unusual health problems, and T's last pediatrician suggested that we take him downtown to the big children's hospital in the city far far away which T will just HATE. And frankly, I don't expect them to use non traditional diagnostic tools or treatments. I don't think they'll look for the medical problems that are often markers in autistic patients as far as physical disorders, and I don't expect that they'll have an aggressive, useful protocol either.

So now I have to look for a rare specimen, especially out in the sticks: the elusive DAN doctor. They do not grow on trees. In fact, out here in isolationville, we have a hard time keeping any kind of generalist doctor. I have to drive 45 min just to find a garden variety endocrinologist for my diabetes. So this is going to be a difficult process, one with which I could definitely use help. So now I have another decision to make: do I go public?

I had started this blog with the idea that I would keep our friends and family updated on daily activities and progress with autism issues, as well as have an outlet for frustration that is often encountered in the education process of children with learning disabilities. But I seem not to go in those directions much with the posts. And in casting around for blog examples, I feel like I have a responsibility to some extent to raise autism awareness, and that's a path I'm going down too. I am very interested in reading the blogs of the autism community as it turns out; I'm getting lots of good information from them, and now I'm staring to wonder if I shouldn't become an official member of that community. I find some satisfaction in the notion of adding my voice to theirs, if not in an overtly political way, definitely as a show of support. But do I sacrifice my privacy for this loftier goal?

There is a selfish reason for staying private. Frankly, I think I'm both ignorant (in the uneducated sense) and boring, and drawing attention to myself is opening myself up to criticism I don't feel like hearing. But if I don't risk the bad, I can't have the good.

When I make the decision to go public, I will add a long blog roll of everybody that I read on a regular basis. That's if I can figure out how to do it. One of my favorite blogs is the "diary" of an aspiring teenage writer with asperger's who recently started college; he recently debated the merits of going public with his true identity and asked for input. This was my comment:

I worry all the time about my son, who is only 15 1/2, going public, because there is still so much he needs to learn about social interaction and protecting himself. He is still EXTREMELY vulnerable and incapable of handling a lot of situations where he might be bullied or manipulated. I think he will eventually get past this stage. The fact that you are at University and living outside your parents house (granted, with a lot of support) gives me a lot of hope that my kid will one day do the same. Hopefully this will be in the not too distant future, but I am approaching going public with his identity very cautiously because he is definitely slower in his social development than his academic development.

You were discussing yourself in a couple of earlier posts how there were some challenging incidents since University started regarding socialization. I think going public is definitely going to increase the amount of personal attention you get from strangers. I think you're very smart to consider it very seriously first. John Elder Robison is a fifty year old adult with asperger's who recently got published for a semi autobiographical memoir that was super. He mentions in his blog that touring to promote his book has improved his social skills many times over than anything else he has done in his life this far.

I was wondering whether or not he debated before publishing if he should use his real name. I bet now he is glad he did because he has been received very very well by the autism community AND the general community. I am curious as to whether or not you think your current peers would do the same. It's not just stalkers. Do you think you're ready to handle it?

This is a question I need to answer for myself. I don't know how long it will take. I know I want the benefits, but can I stand the rest?

whenever I feel like whining (which is often)

I was talking on the phone with a neighbor last night, and I was trying to sound upbeat and cheerful, so I repeated one of my oft referred to affirmations:

For every good there is a better, for every bad there is a worse.

I feel sorry for myself. A lot. So I need those kind of pithy sayings to help me keep perspective, I need them to counteract all the times I am saying woe is me. Though I never intended to use my blog to express someone else's story, this really caught my attention today. Talk about perspective:


When John and Robin Kirton first married, they knew they wanted to have a large family -- but like many couples, they had no idea what they were in for. Today, the Kirtons are the parents of six children -- each of whom has been diagnosed with autism. Discovery Health presents an intimate view of life with multiple autistic children in AUTISM x6, an hour-long special premiering Wednesday, October 1, at 8 PM (ET/PT).

To say the Kirtons live modestly would be an understatement. The entire eight-member Kirton family resides in 1,100-square-foot house with a single bathroom located outside of Salt Lake City. Caring for the children's special needs requires round-the-clock supervision, making it impossible for either parent to have a permanent full-time job and causing financial resources to be scarce. Autism x6 takes viewers into the Kirtons' world and offers a view of John and Robin's daily struggle to maintain order in the midst of chaos, where the household can spin out of control the moment they turn their backs.

Considered to be a spectrum disorder, autism ranges from severe to mild -- and the Kirton children span the entire spectrum. Viewers will meet --

-- Mary, 3: Diagnosed with pervasive developmental disorder-not otherwise
specified (PDD-NOS) -- the least severe form of autism

-- Ammon, 4: Diagnosed with classic autism -- the most severe end of the
spectrum

-- Sarah, 6: Diagnosed with classic autism

-- Nephi, 9: Diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome -- a high-functioning form
of autism

-- Emma, 10: Diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome

-- Bobby, 14: Diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome


AUTISM x6 is the portrait of a resilient family coping with the struggles of each day by rolling with the punches and maintaining their sense of humor. The documentary also serves as a profile of the unconditional love that parents feel for their children.

"We did not choose to have autistic children, but they are here," said John. "We love them, and we want to do the best we can for them. That's the right thing to do."

Online at discoveryhealth.com, visitors can learn more about the Kirton family as well as access a variety of resources for more information on autism.


Holy crap. Did I mention that I feel lucky that my sons are at the high end of the spectrum? My husband and I have recently been discussing vasectomy, as not only do we not intend to have any more biological children, not only would pregnancy probably kill me, but because of an ethical dilemma: do we knowingly risk mixing up our genes again when we now know odds are good that we would produce yet another offspring with autism? This is an actual concern of mine, since one of the side effect of diabetes has been turning perimenopausal. Just LOADS of fun. But one of the many concerns of going through menopause is that I don't have a grip on when I'm likely to ovulate, which makes birth control tricky.

But even if I knew for sure it wouldn't kill me, nor damage my health any further, and someone (who could?) give me an absolute guarantee that I would have plenty of years left on this earth to see a newborn baby raised to adulthood, I just don't want to do it. I really wanted at least one girl, even if I never had any more children. And even though we had decided after the birth of son number one that we would never chance pregnancy again (HA! said god), I still longed to have a little girl. When surprise baby number two came along, I thought, maybe here is my chance in the midst of fear to at least have a girl. NOPE. Well at least both my boys are pretty.

Truthfully, if all the other conditions could be met, and someone (again, who?) could also guarantee that I was going to have a girl, I still wouldn't do it. Even though the risk of autism passing to a girl is much less than a boy, I just don't care. I love my kids to death but I would not subject another child to a diagnosis of autism even if the odds are small. I don't give a damn how politcally incorrect that makes me.

Now I realize it may sound like I'm judging the family above. NO WAY! Their children span 11 years, and the oldest three have asperger's. There's a very good chance that they didn't even know the oldest one's diagnosis before their youngest was born. I actually have no idea about this, I just heard of them for the first time tonight. I would imagine in many families there is probably a big incentive to keep trying to have children until you get a typical one anyway. I was just one of those weird people who never wanted biological children, at least not more than one, in the first place, because I wanted to adopt from the massive pool of children in this country (in the world for that matter) that didn't already have parents.

But not only do I not judge those people who had six kids with autism, I feel for them in a big way. I was just moaning to myself about the tiny size of my house, because whatever else my kids need, they definitely really need their own space, and we can't afford to give it to them. Dividing our house by five is so so hard, having to divide it by eight, I can't even fathom how they do it. For every bad there is a worse. I think I'll go count my blessings now.

Is there an Autism for Dummies yet?

I have decided that I need one of those books cleverly titled "the Complete Idiots Guide to Asperger's" or something like it. An article somewhere had gotten my attention about how most new cases of autism are "acquired" now; that you rarely hear a story about a parent whose child has autism from birth nowadays. I don't know if it's true or not, but one reason it got my interest was because somebody said something similar when I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue immune deficiency syndrome ten years ago. And that's just when I was diagnosed; I had the damn thing six years prior and it just wouldn't go the hell away. But while I was researching all my symptoms and looking for treatment, Someone Important (I can't remember) in the field had said that CFIDS was the true "acquired" immune deficiency syndrome as opposed to the epidemic of AIDS caused by the human immunodeficiency virus (HIV).

Well I didn't get the point, quite frankly, of quibbling over semantics like that; as if there wasn't plenty of suffering to go around. But I had a sweet friend who set me straight by saying that yes, actually, I had completely missed the point like an idiot; the relevance of the word acquired was that it wasn't something I had at birth, and yet it wasn't something I "caught" from someone else. But at the same time, it was becoming epidemic. If you think about it that way, it's pretty scary, because if there's no genetic cause, and it's not something you can avoid by contact (like for instance, by wearing a condom), then how can anyone prevent it happening to them? It was especially worrisome in that light since there is no established cure for CFIDS to go along with that unknown cause.

The triggers of CFIDS are still not well known, and are not likely to ever be. CFIDS is not considered life threatening, at least not in the short run, and although it severely compromises quality of life in a lot of cases, since it's not contagious, it's not a big concern of medical researchers. Sadly, this statement appears to be a similarly held attitude about autism, and by the time it changes, I think it will be much too late for an awful lot of people as well as too late to stop the severe drain on our economy, even talking global economy here. I few days ago I read on one of the big established autism group websites that the new statistics for diagnosis are one in every ninety four boys. Holy crap. How can we possibly sustain a hit like that? My kids are PROBABLY going to college, but they are some of the lucky ones. Even if they finish their degrees, I constantly think about whether or not they can sustain the pressures of holding a job. Last week at a disability claim filing seminar I attended, one lady there who works in a community agency says she deals with aspies all the time who have their university education, but have a work history of losing jobs every three to six months.

I had been thinking about how I should look into treatment protocols for my six year old aspie since his older brother had an unsual (as if there's a "usual") treatment for autism that had very beneficial results. But since aspie the third has never been vaccinated, I have a feeling that I need to do more research on what will be appropriate for him. Well, I tell you, I need the cliff notes version. Honest to god, unless you are a scientist or a person of significantly above average intelligence or unlimited energy, the pool of technical data to swim through is going to require a lifeguard's certification. I love my kid, but holy crap I need a brain transplant. I mean, what does the common person do? So many of the blogs I read from autism parents are authors with degrees in law or medicine or freaking investigative journalism. They all seem to have many initials that go after their names. I have a scrawny little B.S. from a publicly funded school that is located in a state that is not known to be at the top of the intellectual hierarchy, and I am not a highly motivated self taught kinda gal. I truly believe my brain has atrophied since college days despite the almost constant stimulation it gets.

Hannah Poling, the one child with autism that has thus far been awarded damages for a link between her diagnosis of autism and a reaction to vaccines is the child of a nurse and a neurologist. I just don't have that fight in me. And yes, some financial support (say, a little bit of social security funds) would be nice since there isn't a lot of money involved at being the stay at home mom of three children with developmental disabilities, although there are lots of costs, but I would be happy to settle for some insurance coverage of treatments to improve their quality of life. If I could understand, and decide on, said treatment, that is. Lordy, looks like I need to go back to medical school. I don't even have the brain power to understand it, much less to get accepted.

Not all people are created equal. We just have a higher chance of being able to apply our brains to good use if we're born with one. Or don't fry it along the way.

I rant in all my posts, but this time on purpose

I am ticked off tonight. As a newbie, I have been trying to learn about the process so that I can blog with the proper etiquette, and I have to say that my personality doesn't fit in very well with the category of my blog which I've come to find out is called "mommyblogging." Whatever. Not too incredibly insulting. There's nothing this society needs more than another label that marginalizes motherhood. We do that just fine without a new label. I have been reading a lot of other blogs in order to figure out how to improve my own, but I just can't seem to give a dang about some soccer mom's snit over how the coach doesn't model sportmanship appropriately for the little minds he's molding. It's all I can do not to use four letter words when I speak or write, I can't work up a sweat about the minor imperfections of your comfortable middle class existence. Not that I don't totally envy your comfortable middle class existence, my hypocrisy is thoroughly consistent. Well it's their blog, they can write whatever they want.

But freedom of speech is getting on my damn nerves. I am so sick of reading about how wrong I am to presume that vaccines have no link with autism. Somebody even had the gall to tell me to my face that I must be wrong when I told them that my son was pretty ok before he had vaccines, and that he had a pretty bad reaction after his shots complete with a quick descent down the spectrum. In fact, this is a common story among parents of children with autism. And even though we all gave our children vaccines on a slightly different schedule, we must ALL BE WRONG, because scientific studies say so. The fact that my son didn't have a diagnosis of autism until well after his fifth birthday when he had a sudden onset of symptoms right after an overload of shots during his "well" check up, I guess that means nothing.

It doesn't come up in conversation very often, but I have had mononucleosis THREE times. Complete with lab tests to prove it. Whenever I have to see a new doctor, and they ask for medical history, I almost hate to tell them, because I already know that my credibility with them is going to take a nose dive. Do you know how many of them have told me it's impossible to get mono more than once? So I guess I'm lying. I guess there's no way that the previously held belief could be faulty, it must be ME. Next you can tell me that there's no such thing as chronic fatigue immune deficiency syndrome. Maybe you could follow that up with a comment on how we shouldn't worry about AIDS spreading to epidemic proportions. And all of us parents who have given our children vaccinations, who thought it would be a good thing, who held no previous prejudice against the danger of vaccines, and then watched our children react and then deteriorate immediately after, I guess it must just be a mass hallucination.

There couldn't possibly be an error in the testing process. I'm sure the fact that there is very little incentive for someone to make that discovery has nothing to do with the fact that it hasn't been found. I don't doubt that it's difficult to establish the mechanism by which vaccines lead to exacerbated symptoms of autism. I'm sure it's a very circuitous path. And I'm sure it isn't the only catalyst in our environment with that capability. But don't tell me that there aren't major forces with a deep interest in making sure that path is never discovered. I guess I'm just supposed to overlook the fact that government agencies, pharmaceutical companies, and pediatricians are all collaborating to convince us to vaccinate and making huge profits from the vaccination process. I was just sitting here trying to think who has a better funded lobby than the pharmaceutical companies. Maybe munitions companies, I don't know. But no one can tell me that they don't have an enormous vested interest in making sure that no scientific connection is ever made between vaccinations and autism.

Hey, guess what, I forgive you. I don't want your frigging money, I just want to know the best way to help my son, thank you. I will go on record here and thank Dr. Michael Goldberg in Tarzana and his not incredibly difficult or expensive protocol for not only stopping a downward spiral but for bringing my son back from the depths of illness. Thank god he decided to treat children as though they've had a major attack on their neuro immune system, and didn't bother to try to convince me that it didn't happen. And guess what? He still believes in vaccinating the kids in his practice, but he actually cares for the ones who have reactions. I am not telling or advocating for anyone NOT to vaccinate their kids, but STOP telling me that what I witnessed with my own two eyes must not be true. I don't wish disability on their kids, but I sure wish they would stop trying to assure me that I must be wrong about mine just because their kids didn't get autism after their vaccines. Yes, I know, some kids have autism that has nothing to do with vaccines. Next they will tell me that cigarettes don't cause lung cancer, because their grandpa smoked his whole life and he never got lung cancer. And someone else had lung cancer that never smoked. But cigarettes still cause lung cancer whether or not someone says they don't.

And what is this politically correct crap about not trying to cure autism? Does anybody really think the kids wouldn't want to get rid of the challenges that they have if they could? If anybody ever came up with a cure for Down Sydrome, is it really unlikely that the parents of those kids wouldn't want to use it? Ok, we are talking about a chromosonal problem in the case of Down Syndrome, and I don't think we are going to see a cure in my lifetime. But there are many organic brain dysfunctions and head injuries for which huge improvements are possible if not cures, and for pete's sake, why not try them? If you're not suffering, fine, don't do it, but let the ones who are suffering try for the cure with your support. Don't try to convince them that they should just be proud of being differently abled. I'm proud of my son everyday, but I would give him any treatment in a New York minute that I thought would help his life not be quite so difficult.

I had a mini stroke last year, and I have been working my butt off to return my level of functioning to the same state before that day, I consider it my OBLIGATION. And it's something I fervently desire. No, there is no shame in disability, but why wouldn't I want to reach my maximum potential if at all possible? Chronic fatigue, AIDS, and autism are only some of the disabilities reaching epidemic proportions. If we keep it coming, pretty soon we will have one person working and paying taxes for every school age child combined with the population of persons receiving social security or public assistance. How can our economy possible sustain that formula even if we want to?

Ok, I need to step down for awhile and cool off. But before I do, here are three of my favorite books which are relevant to tonight's post. I didn't create my blog to market books, but these were really interesting and helpful.


And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic, by Randy Shilts

Osler's web: Inside the labyrinth of the chronic fatigue syndrome epidemic, by Hillary Johnson

Unraveling the Mystery of Autism and Pervasive Developmental Disorder: A Mother's Story of Research and Recovery, by Karyn Seroussi

The End and The Beginning

The summer is over. On the last day, my dad took me to the movies to see the Dark Knight. I never get any time alone with my dad anymore, so that was fun. AND I got to go out somewhere WITHOUT my little brother; that was even more fun. It was really good because we never go to the theatre anymore, they are far from where we live and they are very expensive. Usually we rent videos because it's easier to handle my little brother in the house. The movie was really good, one of the greatest of all time. I don't have any trouble staying still like I used to, as long as I'm entertained. If I'm not occupied while I'm sitting down, I'll get back up and pace around and be annoying. For those three hours it was really peaceful. I like having everything peaceful. I often feel cooped up in our little house, even though I know I should get out more, I don't feel like going outside. And I hate car rides.

Today was the first day of school. Some special arrangements were made so that I could have more years at school and less classes during each semester. Now I don't have so much work to do, my mom said I used to put in sixty hours a week. It felt like labor camp. I now have German class, which makes me very happy. I'm really excited about that. I also have the second level of Spanish, an Algebra math class, college prep composition, and a Career class. I'm dreading coming across something really hard, because I know it will eventually happen, but at least I will have more free time this year. The schedule seems very liberal. The best part is that I will have more time for myself, so I can do my own drawing, video gaming, internet surfing etc.

I have a resource teacher this year to help me, and I need all the help I can get. I'm not quite sure how it works. I never thought of asking for help before, whenever I want something done, it never occurs to me to do anything but do it myself. I feel a bit optimistic this year. The other years, I dreaded it. I feel like it will go fine. My mom is looking for a part time on site program for me, and it sounds interesting. I don't know if it will happen this year though. Cyber school is great. Home schooling is good, but it's frowned upon by a lot of people. Cyber school is frowned upon by a lot of the same people too. But if anybody is lucky enough to be cyber schooled, they should keep it. Traditional schools, some are ok, but the others: disaster awaits.

asperger education

Tommorrow my 15 year old aspie starts high school. A year ago he had his first ever evaluation by a school psychologist, and three months ago we had his first ever IEP meeting. Despite problems he had after enrolling in cyber school three years ago, no evaluation was offerred. The special ed director actually told me to attempt accessing therapeutic services through our private health insurance. It took two years of the poor boy working sixty hours a week before I made a big enough stink that they agreed to the evaluation. It was even longer before he got the initial evaluation. I didn't understand our rights, or anything about how the system worked. Honestly, it didn't occur to me that my high functioning boy was entitled to special ed services, including at the very least, a very thorough evaluation. We STILL haven't had that, but at least now I know what I'm looking for.

T's most obvious deficit was in the area of written expression, and even though it took awhile, after three years he has now been assigned a resource teacher to help him with his writing assignments. But we are now running out of time. He needs so much more than help with his writing; there are social skills to work on now that we won't be spending sixty hours a week trying to keep up with academics. There is an important transition to adulthood that is starting to be the top priority on my list. When he finally had his IEP meeting at the end of last school year, I was encouraged that his team included a "transitions" counselor. I didn't know that such a thing existed. But I'm learning.

One thing about the IEP meeting that was a little disheartening was the fact that his newly assigned resource teacher was obviously about to go out on maternity leave. And sure enough, when his new guidance counselor left me a message a few days later to tell me what T's new class schedule would be for the fall, it was all too obvious that the resource teacher had not coordinated any exchange of information with guidance regarding the provisions of the IEP. Not only that, when I tried to contact the guidance counselor later in the summer when I felt sure that he would be returning to the school, I found out that he was reassigned, and at present there is NO guidance counselor for freshman. So knowing that the resource teacher was still out on leave, I called the special ed director and asked for her to please make sure that T's new guidance counselor, whoever that might be, would be sure to take into consideration the IEP provisions which would impact the new roster of classes.

Almost a full week later, I got a voice mail from the resource teacher telling me that she would still be assigned to T, but that she would be working from home until mid November. My heart sank. Although I thought kudo's were owed to the school for consideration to working mothers, I knew from previous experience that reaching their part time special ed coordinator who worked from home also was almost an impossibility. But then things started looking up; an assistant from the guidance department told me that the resource teacher had completely changed T's schedule around, taking into consideration the IEP provisions, and the resource teacher herself returned my phone call promptly, and with babies wailing in the background, had a fruitful conversation with me about T's needs and his new roster of classes. Pulled out at the zero hour, to be sure, since school starts TOMMORROW, and this conversation only took place two days ago, but hey, it's a semi good sign if nothing else. T is actually feeling optimistic about it, and that is a big relief for me.

On a I-don't-know-if-it's-a-good-or-bad-thing note, T was not accepted into the gifted program. They don't tell you the reason why, but I'm hoping that once we get past the beginning of the school year, the director there will be willing to give me some good insight. I had so many doubts about the program that I wasn't upset when we got the rejection letter. I knew at least that he had been very seriously considered. The deal breaker for me was the three day on site component with a long commute. I would have been willing to kill myself for two days, but three would have been very very hard on T (and me), and I wasn't even sure it was really the best fit. I found out that they don't have an arts or music program, and I think T's destiny lies with media arts. He really has told me consistently for the last couple of years that he wants to be creative, and I'm not sure that potential would have been tapped at the gifted program. I am currently contemplating three other programs that might be more appropriate.

One of these programs under serious consideration is attached to his cyber school: a performing arts division. Fortunately this is only two days a week, and is very focused in professional arts. I'm still not sure that it's the best fit, but I will take a close look at it. One nice aspect of T's new IEP is that he will get six years to complete high school instead of four if he wants, and this buys us some extra time to participate in high school programs that might really help him with job skills. We are also definitely looking into a new technical school built nearby that has a computer certified program similar to what T's daddy completed. Since I think computer skills will be so essential to a career in media arts, I feel more certain that this would be a really good fit. And it's only two hours per day, five days a week, short drive, in the afternoons - perfection.

However, it will all depend on the staff there and the accommodations, and how closely they supervise and discipline the other students. One thing for sure I knew about the gifted program, and the performing arts program as well, is that they would both contain exceedingly positive social experiences, as discipline and expectations are both high. This new school serves the five public school districts nearest to where we live, and as such, I am concerned seriously if the discipline standards will be as lax there as they are in the five districts, plus other technical schools available in the county. The other technical schools in the county would be the third option we should check out, unless I want to go the private school route. I have been told repeatedly by our current school's administrators that autistic kids belong in special programs at private schools (far away) that should be paid for by our district of residence. These people hadn't even met T. I didn't trust what they said, and decided on a watchful wait strategy. Sure enough, last March at the open house, I met another teenage boy with aspergers, and his mother, and if anything, he was less high functioning than T, or at least somewhere around the same. An extremely bright kid with lesser discernment as regards to social skills when compared with T. I wish they lived nearby so we could hang with them.

I figured if HE had a decent IEP and was thriving at the school, then why the H should I switch T over to a private school with a long hours and long commute that he would probably hate? Admittedly, since then I have found some private schools specializing in autism that are much closer by, so I would reconsider my stance. But I sure wouldn't let some people who had never even met T tell me what was best for him. One of these same people later told me that he thought I was asking for way more accommodation that T needed. Well which is it, dude? Either T needs to be in a private school, or he's not that needy. Either way, the message is not to subtle; We Do Not Want To Deal With Your Kid's Needs At Our School. Well tough, they had warning when we first came in, and I'm not making T change schools just because THEY don't want to live up to their obligations. TOO FREAKING BAD.

That is all for today. I will post on how the first week with the new IEP goes.

Summer almost gone, Autumn on it's way

As I sit here and sift through the multitude of mind numbing tv series marathons that are the gift of the labor day weekend, I can hardly believe that summer is almost over and school will be starting up again next week. Actually, it will only be starting for one out of three, since DD has graduated high school by the grace of god, but not in time to secure college funding for this fall. I am hoping to find some kind of certificate or adult school program to keep her occupied until we get both accommodations and funding for next semester. Truly, it's probably best that she concentrates on therapy now that she's about to re-enter a class room for the first time in seven years. My six year old has not yet been evaluated for the extent of his autism, so I will not even try to find a program for him. Safety is a major concern for any kind of on site program he might be suited for; he is definitely the wandering off type. So my firstborn 15 year old is now "entering" high school, and we have SOME good news on that front. I am going to save that for my next post.

Beyond my disbelief that summer is gone, I really look forward to the autumn. When I was growing up near Philly, it was always my favorite season, and that hasn't changed since we've moved back here. The weather is the nicest, a welcome relief from the humidity of July and August, and the leaves changing colors in the trees is a breathtaking display of beauty in these parts. Pumpkin patch season begins in September, and goes beyond Halloween. I LOVE Halloween, and I love pumpkin patches too, now more than ever. October is my favorite month out of the year, the least of which reasons is that it contains my birthday. But all the best free events for the kids seem to occur around that time, the libraries and art association and churches and commercial farms and the malls explode with kid friendly activities, most of which are inclusionary. I mean, out of the five million things to choose from, I can always find something for my asperger triplets (44, 15, and 6) as well as OCD girl. It sort of sounds like a super hero group, but anyway, the fun is everywhere.

Here is one of my old blogs from last year about how the new owners turned my grandmother's farm into a pumpkin patch; it is very aspie and kid friendly, and we will try to make it back every year:

START

Today my DH and I took the kids up to see my grandmother's farm. More appropriately, it was better known as my grandfather's farm, since he was the one who worked it back before he retired and rented out the farming acres. What my grandmother loved more than anything about the farm were the non-field acres, about thirty odd acres of woods. We are talking the kind of tree groupings that block out the sun. She actually had to weed them out every so often as they matured, and brought in a lumber company to do it. There were trails through those woods, and they were a source of delight to children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. The woods were great for berry picking, and target practice to those in the clan with hunting licenses. But more than anything, the woods were the perfect sanctuary to the birds that my grandmother loved almost as much as members of her family. We would walk back there in singles or groups, but someone almost always was carrying a pair of binoculars around their necks.

After my grandfather died in 1981, my grandmother continued to rent out the farming acres. But she wouldn't let anyone touch those trees. My grandfather had already sold off a few large portions of the original acres long before to fellow farmers until he and my grandmother were down to under ninety acres, and that's how it remained until her death in March 2005. Some of the sold off acres eventually made it into hands of real estate developers, and as a staunch pro agriculture advocate, my grandmother had many discussions over the years pertaining to how best preserve her remaining land as farm.

I was not privy to, nor did I ask, about how she finally accomplished this. I know if I asked one of my uncles, they could tell me about an arrangement she made with the government and in her will to encumber the land as a farm after her passing. But it seems like any government deals can change over time, and it was still with some sorrow that the estate was probated and the farm was sold to new owners.

Well if my grandmother was standing next to us today, I know that she would tell me that she couldn't be more pleased. Not only was the farm sold to a nearby farming family, they have turned it into a publicly accessible Pumpkin Patch and Christmas Tree Farm. 2006 was their debut year for the pumpkins, and since my sister was here from Los Angeles last year visiting in October, it seemed like the perfect tourist attraction. I have pix from that trip posted on Flickr, guess it's time to upload them here as well. God bless my sister who had her camera handy that day, we were using a new camera, and accidently erased all the pics we had from that day. I was crushed. But her photos were great and I will post them along with all the pix I took today.

They had even more attractions this time around. The weather was beautiful today (we are having summer in October, truly) as we pulled into the parking lot around 5 pm of Clark's Pick-Your-Own Pumpkin Patch. As we parked in the yard behind grandma's house, I saw my old tractor tire sand box propped up against a tree. This perked me up immensely, don't ask me why. The new residents of the house have been very busy, there were beautiful new windows and a sharp looking new roof.

We immediately got on the hay ride, D loves riding behind the tractors and he's been looking forward to it all year. The tractor pulled us down to the neighboring fields where they had not only a large field of pumpkins, but had also plowed out a three acre corn maze. DH and the kids took the video camera into the maze while I stayed behind and chatted with the young lady manning the booth. She told me she and her bf Joe Clark were the ones living at the house and doing all the rehab work. I think she was afraid that I would be offended at how they had to gut the house. I assured her that we were well aware of how much the house had deteriorated over the years as it became very taxing for my grandmother to undertake large repair projects in her most senior years.

I know my grandmother would be very pleased that not only was the farm transformed into a working agricultural concern, but they are tree planters! In addition to the pumpkins, the real business is fir trees. In fact, even though it is only the first week of October, the pumpkins are already in low supply. I hope Clark's is very popular for years to come, and that any locals reading this blog will get down there to show them some love. We plan to make this a yearly trip, or two, as long as we stay in Pennsylvania.

We will try hard to prepare our house to accommodate a real, normal size Christmas tree this year so we can go back and pick out our fir. Tree farmers! I couldn't ask for a more fitting legacy to my grandmother, the bird lover. And instead of knocking down the house and starting over, they are turning it into a livable home, which I was assured was going to be used as a primary residence for years to come. In addition to the young Joe Clark who drove the tractor pulling the wagon, we saw the Sr. Clark walking his dog around and driving his own tractor around the house and fields.

D wanted a tiny pumpkin, but T told me that this year he wanted to carve a jack o lantern. Well he picked out almost the largest pumpkin they had in the field, so I'm pretty sure he will be able to carve a face on two sides. He could hardly carry it onto the tractor wagon, and when we got back off at the main area, we needed a wagon to take it up to the scales.

The kids all had a great time, and DD and I got to indulge in a deep espisode of nostalgia as we are both previous residents of the farm at differing periods of time, as well as life long fans. I had a hard time leaving, but I really really enjoyed myself. How many people get such a gift?

END

Sadly, I have heard from my cousins that the remaining acreage around the farm was sold to mushroom farmers. Technically this meets the encumberances on the land as pertains to agricultural use, but anyone who is familiar with mushroom farming knows what challenges that may bring to continuing the pumpkin and christmas tree business. The odor of mushroom fertilizer is potent like no other smell I can think of; an extremely gaseous methane kind of scent that gives people headaches and offends worse than skunk. I'm not sure if the laying of mushroom fertilizer coicides with the harvest of pumpkins and fir trees, but if so, I have a feeling business will decline for the latter. As my cousin said "I wish they had sold the land to real estate developers instead."

socializing online when you can't leave the house

I suppose one of the reasons I started this blog was to reach out to others like me in similar situations, a universal desire, I'm certain. We all feel better in the company of others who can relate to whatever we've going through.

Ever since my mini stroke last year, I have made a concerted effort to get out of the house more, even though I feel less like doing it than ever before. But I was so determined to force my kids to socialize more even though the two oldest pushed against it. The truth is they need it, and they benefit from it, despite disabilities that make them fight having human contact, especially NEW human contact. The little one loves to get out and play with others, although he often wants to keep doing whatever he's doing in the moment, so he has also joined the protest movement against leaving the house. Once he's out though, he's usually happy about it.

Anyway, that is all about the kids. My dh hates leaving the house almost more than them. A grown aspie is harder to get into motion that the children, who at the very least will eventually capitulate rather than suffer my wrath. But the dh is practiced in the art of passive aggression; he will often say yes, and then sabotage our ability to actually do something with his behavior. But he needs socialization too, and occasionally I overcome inertia for the both of us, and out we go. Sporadic outings do not build long term relationships however, so he doesn't really have any friends in this fine city/state/region of the country. But everyone who knows him likes him, and my relatives are all very nice to him on the rare occasion that they see him. It's still not enough, but it's better than nothing. What I really want is for us to once and for all pick a church, and build a relationship with it as a family. Heck, I would even settle for all five of us choosing a different church each and rotating. You can still build relationships that way.

But I need something more for myself. My best friend is over an hours drive away, I'm lucky if I get to see her three times a year. We are both consumed with family drama that makes it difficult. Most of the rest of our good friends are in Los Angeles. The disability level in our household has really escalated since we've been here near Philly, which has made building new relationships very difficult. I try to keep in touch with some of our friends and family online, but it's been a struggle. But at least I have that option in this day and age. I've made some new friends online, and even met some of them in person.

We found a new church through web surfing a few years ago, and I was excited when I found out that there was an online community active in the church in addition to their relatively local physical building. As it turned out, other members of my family had a history with this church that I was completely unaware of, but it made me feel that my prayers to find the right church for us had been answered. I knew that it was likely that dd would have a hard time with any regular church attendance, and though some of the people there were absolutely outstanding as far as fellowship opportunities were concerned, sure enough, she eventually pulled back. Our attendance since 2005 has mostly consisted of participating in their yearly halloween alternative celebration, but I still like the congregation as a whole. I figured we could always participate in their online forums as well, but alas, the webmasters apparently have new responsibilities that have put maintaining the website a bare minumum priority.

Well I was pleasantly surprised this year to find out that several of my favorite people from the church have started blogs which have become my favorite new nightly reading time. I really enjoy this fellowship, though I'd love more of the in person variety. But I find as much entertainment value in blogs as I do with novels. Don't get me wrong, I still read voraciously from the local libraries, but now the spare hour or two I get to myself after everyone else is in bed is often devoted to blog reading. I also have found great comfort in several blogs of autism parents and some individuals with autism.

I was reminded recently by a friend whose wife has a rather high degree of physical disability that one needs to be creative with social pursuits and hobbies in those situations. They are both addicted to Warcraft, which is an online role playing game that is very popular though it bores me to tears. But his principle is correct; social outlets are so important that you take them however you can, and we are lucky to have such opportunities in our present circumstances.

Last year I began a love affair with myspace that started as a chance to share a bit of our lives here with family and friends far away, and expanded into something so much more. My enthusiasm waned a bit as site content is not monitored nearly as much as I would like when it comes to a program that I encourage my children to use; there is way too much almost-porn on the site for my comfort, but I still get a lot out of it, and I will quote one of my blog entries from myspace from last year:

START
MYSPACE IS FUN. And you get to hang with your peeps when it's convenient for you. Like in the middle of the night when a toddler wakes you, or insomnia gets you, or the freaking dog won't stop barking, or when you have ten hours of work to do while the kids are sleeping and out of your hair. Myspace helps those make those moments much more bearable. So I will still be here on myspace, representing myself a little more personally now, and sharing my minute details when I feel like it.

I've been searching for some friends and family on myspace to see if I can find some people that I miss being out of touch with ... myspace does make it a lot easier to hang out with people online, which is great when you are all the way across the country from most of them. I have to credit my sister in law Hazel for convincing me to give it a thorough test drive.

MOST of the people I added as friends are ones that I know very well, or at least used to. I have added a local musician that I love plus my favorite health food store and a couple people connected to that, but, for the most part, my friends have a very personal connection to me, and I LOVE it. It's been really great finding friends from freaking elementary school, junior high, high school and college. Also some friends from the post college, pre Philadelphia work era. Some of them I found by accident while I was searching for someone else. Very very cool. I have a desire to kind of reconnect with people lately since I turned forty last year, and sort of almost but not really died. Let's just call it a too close for comfort brush by death.

I have kind of been out of the loop since my second son was born, but he's five now and I'm starting to have a little bit of time to think about something else. Mostly that time comes late at night, but all the more reason to myspace. It does seem like a verb to me.

Plus some really great friends of ours moved away last summer, and I miss them so much. I've convinced at least one of them to give it a try. Honestly, myspace is a good chance to build better relationships with ones not only far away who are near and dear or even just on the edge, but also with people right in front of my face or close to it. Lets face it, with my husband's long work hours/ horrendous commute, three kids I'm home schooling, and a couple family members with agoraphobia, plus a definite diabetes fatigue, I just don't get out much. And that isn't likely to change anytime soon. We haven't been to church in over a year. I've been out of the visiting circuit for so long that people far away are coming to see US.

Two years ago, my precious grandmother E died, and her funeral was almost an impromtu family reunion. My maternal grandfather's family has had an annual reunion for ages up near Allentown that came to a halt a few years back when the organizers at that time wisely gave over to their retirement years. My grandmother's funeral was a fortunate event in that it gave some of my cousins who had been knocking around the idea of starting up the reunion again the final motivation they needed to push forward.

In June 2005, the E family reunion was reborn thanks to my cousins K and B who spearheaded the event, and so many other relatives that were eager to contribute to the glorious occasion. We were all so happy to see each other, and it really punctuated for me how much less socializing I have done with my family since moving near to so many of them. Total irony.

The saddest part is that DH and I have sacrificed being near our immediate families to live out here and raise the kids in what we consider to be a friendlier family environment, close to much extended family, and yet we don't make the effort to see them. My mother comes to see US. Almost every week in fact. And while that's great, sadly, that is five other of our children's grandparents in L.A. that they rarely see, who I haven't seen myself in over three years. If I'm 40, they certainly aren't getting younger either. My next big push is to convince the grandparents to open myspace accounts. But I'm loving finding other relatives here now.

This also coincides with what would be my 25th high school reunion next year, if someone from my high school bothers to get one together. I didn't go to the 5th, 10th or 20th, and I have a feeling I may have to wait until 30 comes around. 2008 will also be the 25th year since I matriculated as a freshman at UCLA, and though I met many great people through the 7 years it took me to get a 4 year degree (finally graduating ELSEWHERE), the ones I think about most are four great girls I met (three were dorm mates) that year and didn't keep in touch with past 1990, though I bumped into one at Costco in 1996. Nostalgic? I think so. So far I've found 2 of them here.

Reconnecting with people on myspace in all the categories above has been so awesome, many of them don't have direct accounts, but their kids do! Even if some of the content on the kids' pages just grosses me out. And there are a lot of skanky people on myspace. Lord knows my privacy settings are all very high, and they need to be. But the younger generation has rekindled my hope for building on our relationships and reconnecting with their parents. Hopefully, together, we will get them all hooked I know I'm hooked.
END

I'm still going strong with myspace, I have over a thousand pix loaded there. I've been using email for what seems like an eternity, though I guess it's only been fifteen years plus a little. I was trying to remember the first internet service I had to no avail. I'm also on goodreads since last December. And now I'm starting blogger instead of just reading other users all the time. So I guess I'm embracing the online social movement, even though compared with the average age I'm a dinosaur. Truly, I don't know how I'd live without it now.

God is good and god is great, and so I thank him for the internet.

The toll it takes

I took T to a church group last week that divides the kids into age groups and genders. One thing I can't stand about the traditional public school model is the segregation by age that is so unnatural in the rest of life's venues, and I think, harmful. At the same time I think it's probably necessary for safety reasons in the public schools as there is so little supervision of the kids who often interact in negative ways with each other; if bullying is a problem in same age peer groups, how much worse would it be in a mixed age group? But I totally digress here. Even though I have found a church or two that supports home schooling, and my own most frequented church of choice has a youth group that mixes ages 12-18, if I want T to be able to pick some of his own social activities, those same age, same gender experiences are likely to be a benefit in some ways in an environment where the people in charge don't know him well.

T had a great time at the group, so at least I should be grateful for that. Ironically, when the group leader asked for prayer requests, T asked for them all to pray for his mother, because there is "only one of her, and four of us." I can't even imagine what the leader must have thought of a statement like that, but it cracked me up. But lord knows I appreciate the prayers, especially when I would have expected him to say something like "please pray for me, because I'm starting school again soon, and I hate it. Plus I'm looking for a good new school for someone with asperger's." Well that's certainly something I've been praying about a lot recently.

It's true I need my own prayers though, and I have to learn to ask for it. On more than one occasion in the not too distant past, some people have recommended that I join a caregiver's support group, and even my doctor made some not to subtle comments about how talking to a "counselor" might help with some of the stress that a person who lives with four people with disabilities might feel. Well I am not proud, if I had the money and the time, I love therapy. But the point that I need to take better care of myself especially under these circumstances is well taken. I think it's a mother's universal lament that they are so busy trying to fulfill the needs of all the other family members that they don't have time for themselves or otherwise always put themselves at the bottom of the list. And it's stupid. Because if I had taken better care of myself, I would be a better wife and mother right now.

It's been just over a year since my mini stroke, and I don't really feel like I've made that much progress. I have worked really hard, so it's fairly frustrating. Here's what I wrote on myspace last year around this time:

START:
I have been getting a lot of questions about how my health is going recently. Back in May, I had what some doctors referred to as a possible "mini-stroke" or "TIA." Don't really care what it was called, but it sure was scary. My blood pressure was off the charts, and I didn't realize it until it felt like my head exploded. Anyway, a couple of doctor visits and diagnostic tests later, it turned out that I had very high blood sugar and very high cholesterol to go along with the high blood pressure. I usually get a physical every year, and last year I skipped it. I am pretty particular about not skipping it usually because there is a lot of disease in my genes. But last year was very hard. In fact, the last six years have been a real challenge, and last year was just the icing on the cake of stress. So I had no business skipping my physical, busy or not, and I paid for it, and worse, my family has really paid for it.

The good news is I didn't die. And my heart is in actually pretty good shape. The bad news is that I have type 2 diabetes, but I am absolutely determined to get rid of it. I have radically changed my eating habits (goodbye my favorite cherry coke - sob, sob), and I have been meticulous about eating when I'm supposed to, measuring my sugar levels, and taking appropriate therapeutic measures. I am learning more everyday. And while I've been feeling pretty cruddy, things are definitely looking up.

After three months of treatment, my 30 day sugar average is 139, my 14 day average is 134, and my 7 day average is 131. So the numbers are not only almost normal (normal range is 80 - 120), but they are still going down. Soon I may need no insulin or drugs at all. I keep a close watch on my blood pressure, and I only have to take medication for that on an "as needed" basis, which is almost never. I am doing some gross things (anybody care for the taste of pure apple cider vinegar?) and I keep trying more things. I am eating a lot more fruits and vegetables, and a lot less carbohydrates, especially simple carbohydrates.

So all in all it's pretty good news. And in the not too distant future, I look forward to saying "I used to be a type two diabetic, but not anymore!"
END

Well, my optimism was unfortunately misplaced. Because an average of my morning fasting and post prandial (two hours after eating) blood sugars ranges widely from 130 up to 155. I need MORE insulin now, not less. And I have definite long term nerve damage that is probably irreversible and makes my sugars a lot more erratic. I am going through early menopause due to all of this, and my fibromyalgia has kicked into overdrive. My diet has such a low percentage of carbohydrates in it that I needed to start eating more protein (mostly animal products, something I was previously trying to cut back on). With the weird hormonal changes that the descent into menopause causes, I suddenly gained twenty pounds in two months last spring, which is still with me, but fortunately has not increased at least. I am horribly fatigued. And thanks to the nerve damage, I wake up almost everyday with horrid nausea and pretty much have constant stomach pain. I will keep working on it, but it's frustrating for progress to be so slow or non existent after such a hard struggle.

I have a lot to be grateful for, and my faith has only increased in the face of all of this. I do need to make time to work on myself more. It's so hard to consider putting the kid's needs on hold while I make time for myself. I still haven't had a physical since last year, even though I've seen doctors more this year than in my whole life. That's just foolish, and I know it. But I have such a hard time keeping up with the bare minimums that adding more doctor's visits into the mix seems impossible. I wouldn't say that I'm depressed (I have been before, so I know the difference) but it is certainly easy to get discouraged right now. But with baby steps, and maybe some more prayer, I keep going forward.

The trouble with boys is that boys are always looking for trouble

Today I read the post of one of my favorite blogs that reminded me of one of the reasons I wanted girls so badly. Call me sexist, but as the mother of two boys (who are both mildly autistic), my fear is first for damage to their persons, and then for the damage to my property, and often both happen at the same time. When my husband once found our (at the time) three year old firstborn, T, on top of the refridgerator, the first words out of his mouth were "don't tell your mommy." I do feel like I spend so much time and energy keeping them from killing themselves. I think mothers without boys can rarely ever relate.

The self-injuries get old fast; I think of myself as a compassionate person generally speaking, but the guilt of one incident stands out very clearly in my mind when I felt I had been put through the wringer one too many times. My firstborn had yet again run into something hard while he was sprinting forward but looking behind him. I was so irritated as I was trying to get arms full of groceries through the door while juggling to get keys out of my purse and unlock our entry, I actually yelled at him. A few minutes later he was still holding his head while sitting on the couch, and I noticed blood trickling down his hand.

One of the challenges with autism is often an inability to communicate proportion or relativity (this nearly cost him his life a couple years ago, probably something akin to refusing to carry an epi pen). It looked like a small cut on his head to me, and I debated not calling his doctor (I was tired, outings with him were always a challenge). Naturally, the pediatrician wanted me to bring him in, and ten stitches later, I conceded that perhaps I should have been a little more sympathetic when he banged his head. I do everything I can to reduce the frequency of "boy induced" boo boos, but thank god for the blessing of being able to cover them in prayer everyday.

Talking to a friend

It's been awhile since I last talked to my friend Micah; he lives all the way in California. I called him for the first time in a long time, probably months. I grew up with him before I moved to Pennsylvania, he's an aspie like me. It's a miracle that we both met because I didn't think I would meet someone who was very much like me, now that I reflect on it. Back then all I was thinking was that I have a friend who has the same interests I do. We kinda still do now. We both like art, video games and really good movies. He likes action movies more, but I prefer horror thrillers usually.

I was happy to be able to talk to him again, it was good to hear from him. I rarely get to see my friends nowadays, most of them have moved away or I moved away from them.

Some of my friends just moved back here, close by, even though they aren't right next door anymore. I am really happy to see them. I will call them the R family, the mother, father, Amanda, Angel and Michael. Their whole family was friends with my whole family and I'm really glad they're back. Michael is friends with my little brother D and he is really happy that they're back. Amanda is a couple years older than me and Angel is a couple years younger, but they are two of the greatest friends I've ever had. So is Micah, but I don't get to see him anymore. But I consider them all my best friends.

So I'm starting to get back in touch with all my friends again. It's making me very happy. I was really sad when they were gone, the girls especially were the last good ones I had that lived close. Now that they are back, things are going great. I was pretty depressed having all my friends gone, but I'm especially appreciative that they are back.

It's kind of hard for me to make friends because I'm a little bit shy. My mom would not let me go out by myself, and I don't like to do it anyway because the world is not a safe place. I am probably more at risk than regular people because I don't know how to look out for myself. I don't know how to do things like normal people do. I think I'm abnormal a bit. With strangers, I tend to be very formal, I try to be a like an adult. But sometimes I feel like a little kid. I don't know the in between. I feel a little bit weird, but I usually feel happy about who I am. I think I just get depressed because I think there is a lot of grumpiness around me and I don't get to see my friends enough.

I would rather not go to school because I think it is a hell hole. You take a bunch of random people and coop them up in a building for seven hours and that is a set up for something bad to happen. Some schools are ok because they can be different from normal traditional public schools. Any one who has been at one of those regular schools or knows someone who is has heard of something bad happening at a school. A good school would be where the employees are nice and really cares about the kids, so that if one of the kids misbehaves or hurts one of the other kids, then proper measures are taken. And no harsh punishments for little kids. I think aspies would really suffer because they don't understand the rules and they would get in trouble a lot. I think aspies should have a special school just for them where the adults are specially trained to understand them.

Right now I'm schooled at home and that's the way I like it, but I would like a chance to make friends with other people, especially people like me. When there are a lot of people around me, I feel kind of anxious. I was a vacation bible school last week, which was ok because it was just one week for a couple of hours per day, and there was only a small group of teenage boys who were very nice. I think they were taught to be nice because they go to that church a lot. Some of the kids in the other classes were strangers to the church who just came for the food and the games, and they were more wild. I don't like it when groups of kids act wild and misbehave. When all the classes mixed together, I just stayed near my friends Amanda and Angel and then I was ok.

time out for an OCD reflection

I haven't really talked about my dear daughter here yet, because I meant for this blog to be about asperger's. But I was commenting someone else's post tonight that was partially about the sense of purpose their previously challenging son was getting from enlisting in the army and graduating from basic training, and it really touched me as I related it to my own challenging child, the eldest. When she came to us, she was already a half grown teen, and there was a lot of emotional baggage that came with her. But one set of symptoms was really apparent to me, even though I didn't have a name for it at the time: obsessive compulsive disorder. This is a very serious developmental problem that is often a symptom of aspergers and autism, but lots of other people have it too.

It's been quite a journey learning about it, and knowing now that I am the only person out of five in my house that doesn't have it. If you know anything about it, you know how difficult it can make it to accomplish just the mundane details of everyday living. I'm not going to get into a full on description of it here tonight, but I felt like my dd deserved a tribute for the very big achievement she made recently. This in the face of her very active OCD, which in her case includes crippling agoraphobia (fear to leave the house and/or go out in public), claustrophobia, extreme anxiety disorder with panic attacks, major depression, and a truly absurd condition called trichtilomania (google it if you're interested). And she did it all without benefit of an IEP! We didn't have time. But she did have 504 plan accommodations, which were far from adequate, but I doubt we'd be celebrating now without it. Here was the comment I left on the other post:

This summer I watched my daughter's graduation ceremony from high school. She has horrible agoraphobia (thus I haven't been to church recently), and she could have chosen not to participate in the ceremony if she wanted. Even so, I pretty much held her hand all the way through it until she was up on stage, and there was a school nurse stationed nearby, but I was very proud that she had made the commitment to stand up with her peers and acknowledge what for her is a profound milestone.

But the sense of purpose that you were talking about, it was the first time I had felt that so acutely for her. She had made the original decision to return to being accountable to a school authority (after we adopted her, she home schooled for several years), and even though her curriculum was delivered though cyber technology in our house, it was still a really big deal for her to have to complete state set standards, deal with deadlines set by someone else, and communicate with her teachers and other strangers in the school.

The graduation ceremony was the first time she really met some of her classmates, but there was a lot of satisfaction in watching them all rise as a group and hearing the speaker discuss the expectation of their contribution in the world. You could see on their faces how they felt like they were part of something important.

This is a school that really emphasizes leadership and community service, and it really affected her in such a positive way in terms of helping her develop an avocation for her life. I really have to give all the credit to god for leading us to this school and helping her choose to enroll, plus seeing us through all the ups and downs as she finished the program.

I had been so afraid that she might never even make it this far, and I still have a lot of days when I wonder what the best way is to try to access her potential, but this is one of those situations where I have had to really let go and let god, and try to feel his peace.

Crossroads is definitely a good way to describe our current position, but I just have to keep the faith that he will continue to guide us no matter how apprehensive I might be that our hold on something finally positive is very tenuous.

elephant and baby steps

Today, I took two steps with my aspie teen. One caused major anxiety, the other was only minor. Three months ago when T turned 15, I felt a sudden urgency to focus on his future. He suddenly seemed so far from independence compared with his chronology, and the amount of time left before adulthood is quickly shrinking. Truly, I don't want mere independence. T has so many gifts that I feel a deep need to figure out how exactly to tap his potential to share with the outside world.

Part of this is guilt inspired. I have spent so much time on the needs of DD since she's been with us these last six and a half years, and now that she's graduated high school, it seems like it should be his turn for awhile. Anyway, today was our appointment with the gifted education program that is a satellite of T's cyber school. I asked if they could please help me evaluate whether or not their program was a good fit, because I really don't have a good sense of it. If he gets in, and we decide to accept, it will be his first formal schooling outside of the home since he was in pre school.

There is a large push by the Home School Legal Defense Association to try to convince their constituent members that home schooling all the way through high school is a good idea, and that more and more universities and other post high school institutions are starting to turn a favorable eye towards home schooled graduates. This is a faith based organization, and I agree with their philosophy to a point, but know that this is a hard sell. I have noticed in my home school groups a large attrition during the high school years as either parents feel like it's just too difficult or that they need the "easy" accreditation of an established traditional school to pave the way to college admission. I was never concerned about either of those challenges until recently when it became obvious that my son is smarter than me. Or at least more motivated.

I am neither too modest or a braggart. I simply feel that I might not be the best or sole resource to continue T's education. I already took on extra help through the means of a publicly funded cyber school program. But now I think I need even more. There are few educational qualifications or programs for being a stay at home schooling mom, but I felt reasonably capable when I started. My high school gpa was fine, graduated in the top ten percent of my class at a supposedly superior high school (although how great could a public school be in California?), did reasonably well on my college entrance exams, and graduated with just over a B average from a state university in a competitive program. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't rocket science either.

So what's my point? If people in my home school group with high school diplomas could educate their children, why shouldn't I be able to? I mean, I might have been trained to make money instead of teaching, but taking care of my own kids seemed like something I should be able to do alright. I read lots of books on that too, and I had some basic biological instincts. I began home schooling with reasonable confidence, and added resources when I thought I needed to as I went along. I always felt that if I wanted more help, well then my husband, my stepmother, father, brothers and father in law (who are ALL engineers, talk about being the odd one out) could chime in whenever I asked. My mother in law was a school teacher. There are a lot of teachers in my side of the family also; it should be in my genes, right? The longer I kept with it, the more I felt it was a really good idea. Spiritually, it felt really right. It certainly fit his learning style in his younger years. In fact, if you ask him now, he still wishes he could go back to it.

But as soon as I saw that he wasn't developing "evenly," I reconsidered a bit. I didn't feel like it was anything I was doing wrong exactly, it just bothered me that a child so obviously bright was taking a long time to learn to read, and an even longer time to write. Well some of it was my ignorance, though it would have been the same problem with teaching methods at traditional schools. T has a definite learning preference for the right side of the brain, and as soon as I gave up on phonics and let him learn by site reading, he took off like a racecar. He still can't write. But guess what, the traditional curriculum, though delivered by a cyber platform, didn't fix that problem either. So it's definitely not all me, those deficits exist with or without mom's teaching methods. But what to do about them?

And now, what to do about the areas in which he excels? This child has been almost completely self taught in math, all the way up to beginning algebra. Granted many 15 year olds are beyond algebra if they are in gifted programs, but how many of them were self taught? I have lent a guiding hand once in a blue moon, when he gets stuck on something, but a small assist and he is off and running again. He can spend hours everyday drawing in tedious detail, and he DOES spend hours everyday reading. He loves creating stories, and he has spent countless hours teaching himself spanish and german. I still can't play chess, and he picked it up in a couple of hours.

So today he spent three hours testing at the gifted program, and I spent even more than that filling out the paperwork and gathering documents. This was the third time I had been at the physical location of the school, and even though it seems outstanding, I still have absolutely no idea if I'm doing the right thing. I really just don't know. At one point the director of the program who was acting as proctor came out and asked me if T could diagram sentences, because when she asked him to spell a word that she used in a sentence, he asked her if the usage was as a direct object or indirect object. I laughed because I had no idea what he was talking about, and then told her I really didn't know if he ever had diagrammed sentences. I was pretty sure he could pick it up relatively quickly though. I asked T on our drive home if he really needed to know the answer to his question in order to do the spelling test, and he said no, he was just trying to translate the sentence into german in his head.

So I have to do something, that's obvious, he's definitely beyond me, and our financial means (you won't see any private tutors at this house), but WHAT. Lots of prayer will be helpful. If we decide it's a good fit, then there is a huge transportation hurdle to overcome. Prayer will be good for that too. If this program doesn't work out, there are a couple others to shoot for, but who knows if they're right, and if not, we are going to run out of options fast in podunk. I know I need to rely on god for everything, but I just don't always hear what he's saying.

Later this evening, I took T to a vacation bible school program, one of many that abound in this area like wild rabbits, and again, I handed him off to a man in a closed room with several other teenage boys and hoped that bible man wouldn't try an indoctrination that I'm uncomfortable with, because T is a long way from discernment. But he will never develop discernment without positive social experiences with other godly people. I can tell you that the class leader of 3-7 year olds was completely over the head of my 6 year old aspie. I'm glad too, because I believe god should be presented as joy and love, especially at that age. I heard a story full of vengeance and punishment, in a vocabulary meant for much older kids. Then we got to hear all about sin and the blood of jesus. I'm so glad he couldn't possibly have understood it, so the nightmares to which the other kids will most likely be subjected will be avoided at our house.

But beyond my critisms of that particular church, or church member, in addition to developing the boys academic skills, it's really time to step it up spiritually. Despite DD abject terror of the church, it's time to at least go back with the other kids, even if it means we leave her at home. At least the boys seemed to have a really good time a church tonight, it's a small victory. The more I get T out into the world, the more he is going to need to be fortified with the armor of god. He's led kind of a charmed life up until now, though he probably wouldn't see it that way. I know he feels like life has never been as good since we moved from the west coast to the east coast, but that mostly has to do with the arrival of his little brother, and less attention, which would have happened on either coast.

And he needs me too much. He would be happy if I could just be his almost everything, but I can't, and I shouldn't. I need to help him prepare to leave the nest, gently, without crashing and burning. It's always about finding that fine line and walking it. I want him to know the joys of being able to stand on your own two feet, and maybe even a wife and children, if that's possible. Well I know it's possible, but I mean in a positive way instead of a negative. With god all things are possible, if they're meant to be, and I really hope they are.