Through various blogs and various notebooks there are words written by me. Thoughts casually flowing from pen to paper via my mind, making sense, sometimes not but feels a lot easier than doing it first on here. Even before any uni assignments I write on vast amounts of paper, random thoughts and scribbles before finally piecing them together bit by bit to create a wonderful piece.
So here I am, without my training wheels of a journal or notebook but with the laptop open (who even owns one anymore?!), feeling a bit like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City and Jenna Hamilton from Awkward. Although without the fun sexy times or high school problems.
I am a mere mother of 2 children, one female with Asperger’s syndrome and another female undiagnosed but a possibility. In this family of nuttyness is me, Mother hen also with Asperger’s but also ADHD, and Daddy bear neurotypical. Our house is a mixed bag of crazy, fun, laughs, tears and gin but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I believe fiercely that actually you can keep a clean and tidy house with children. If you visited us after bedtime you would be hard pushed to find any incriminating child paraphernalia evidence that we even have kids. So yes, house, four people, two on the spectrum with the third awaiting an assessment. The third had speech therapy this week and I cockily thought she was doing great, shes been speaking so much more, shes not. After an hour or so of playtime with the speech therapist said that small is struggling with speech still, to a point her being a speech therapist barely understood her. She also gave me the advice that she would be referring small for an ASD assessment, this was done last September by the Health Visitor unbeknownst to her so to have two people suggest there was a social communication problem with small was hard going. With eldest I had to push for help and took a while for anyone to take us seriously but small is very much more obvious.
Things about me; I enjoy buying all the cleaning products and all the stationary. I live my life using an array of 5 planners for various elements of my life, and I truly feel my best with a glass of wine in one hand and the pen for a planner in the other. I don’t enjoy television much, I can’t get in to movies or remember movies I have seen, my mind never stops and I just can’t focus for that amount of time. I enjoy things to an obsessive level, I have to have it all, all the Lush products, all the make up, all the cleaning products, all the shoes, all the crochet equipment, all the things, all the time. Not having something or having that missing link gets me stressed, angry and anxious. Its ridiculous. Meticulously organised in boxes or compartment files, proudly and lovingly looked at, lists written about them and things to get next. These goddamn lists run my life. I am aloof in social situations but I’ll organise the shit out of an event. I’m getting married next year and I am a complete control freak, every element and tiny detail has been planned, every possible outcome has been planned for, every guest has been thought of and planned for, just absolutely everything. Mostly because I am hyper aware of looking a twat or being thought of badly because I forgot a tiny decal from a place card, its my safety net. I have had many offers of help but honestly all I want to do is hand tie 50 bows on to little bottles myself, I know you can do it too but I need it done “just right”. No offence to anyone at all!
Other stuff about me; I quite like a rant, I’m misunderstood frequently, I’m fierce on social justice issues, I’m blunt and not at all empathetic but I do care. People take my lack of sympathy as me being a bitch but I truly am not. I think of people often, more than people think. I get upset easily but resting bitch face ensures my whiny emo inside is masked at all times in public. I get upset when people change, mostly because I don’t understand it. How can people change so much? do people really keep up a front to fit in? Why bitch about someone all the time and then spend the rest of the time with your tongue rammed up their arse? I have lost a friend recently who was very dear to me although I am not sure why, she changed and I didn’t. I realise normal people don’t want to hear how things are, I can’t sugar coat stuff nor will I ever as I won’t ever be that phony person. If I bail on something I will tell you why I’m bailing, there is no “oh I feel poorly” or “oh no I had other plans”, if I have cancelled a plan or a play date for a good reason I am going to tell you. This happened recently and I may as well had faked it, but legitimately there was a problem and how else would you solve it without saying what it was. But alas, once again I am in the wrong, the bad one in this. I’m not good at friendship because unfortunately I have heightened senses, of the bullshit kind.
I’m not big on the whole “autistic clique” online or in our town. I find the mums obsessive and weird, how can someone talk so much about a medical thing fascinates me. Don’t you guys have anything else more fun going on in your lives?! This is coming from an “aspermom” and clearly I think different to pretty much everyone, but seriously now? I have a bit of chronic skin condition but I’m not shouting that out there, joining a support group or whatever. Baffling, I literally am the only person I have come across who thinks this way by the way, I’m sorry if you don’t agree or this offends you, it isn’t supposed to. I also don’t feel I need to talk about it all the time to people as the main weight of a conversation. I like a bit of autism related banter but when you only have autism to talk about there is clearly something wrong with you. Go have some fun, yes its hard living with kids with the Big A but it probably is for many people with many things but they haven’t stopped living. I literally am giving Autism the kick up the butt and trying my hardest to make it fit our life without excuses. I’m not fond of the “oh she can’t do that because of her autism” “oh shes violent because shes anxious” etc, she may not or she may struggle but she can at least try. I also know when my eldest is being a little shit or its autism, kids with autism are actually kids too her actually still do NT stuff that every other kid does, quit making excuses for your shitty parenting. Pushing your anxieties on to a child before they have even been given the chance is giving them a pretty shitty attempt at life.
So here’s to proving autism wrong, I’m giving you the big fuck you. Its hard living with it myself, I have twice as much of living with it compared to your neurotypical mums but luckily being an aspermum I find it easy to cut the bullshit and see everything as black and white. Life isn’t over, life is exactly the same as before for us but with a little more knowledge to help us all not stick out like a sore thumb. I’m not after a pity party, sympathetic comments from others, empathetic smiles. I worry of saying the wrong thing all the time. Children with autistic parents are THE worst too for this, they are all very woe and understanding to their kids but if I say something that comes out wrong or is on my mind then I am damned to hell. DAMMMNNEEEDDD.
So welcome to my blog, its pretty shitty but so is my mind. This is a place for honest parenting on the spectrum and with the spectrum, no sugar coating or worrying about being offensive. I read stuff that is annoying or shitty every day but I take a step back and carry on browsing.
I’m over that shit.