BRAAAAAAAAINS

Of which I have little.

Having run low on options to combat the Princess' steady tantrums and general attitude problem, I carted her off to the neurologist again today.  On our first couple of visits over a year ago, as well as hearing the Doc speak at an autism conference last spring, I was a bit uncomfortable with her.  She seemed to be too sure of herself, and a bit condescending, and quick to say (after 5 minutes of seeing my child), "She doesn't have autism."

Something has changed, though.  When we spoke today, she seemed to listen more, and asked more questions, and was pretty eager to try something new.  She went through what we could do, and laid out a timeline of treatments and such.  She also drew me diagrams and charts on the exam table paper and didn't tease or anything when I tore the paper off to keep.

And this may not sit well with most parents, and it may not make sense to a lot of you, but I loved that she spoke to me, and not to the Princess. It's like she already knew that that line of questioning would be pointless. Oh, she didn't ignore her by any means---the Doc was very side-eyed observant, if that makes sense.  But for the most part, the Princess was allowed to explore the room and sit and tic all she wanted.

Previously, we've tried Fluoxetine to try to calm her tics, and Strattera to help her focus.  Neither did shit.  Now we're onto a Ritalin-like stimulant, since she showcases so many ADHD symptoms (and, apparently, so do I, as the Doc subtly suggested I get myself tested and treated as well).  She also referred us to a psychologist for a more in-depth evaluation.  That's awesome.  I love evaluations.  Big ole packets of paper with lists and scores and assessments and stuff?  I live for that shit.

I'm always eager to find what professionals think of my kids.  I don't know why.  Maybe it's confirmation?  All 3 are just so interesting to me, with their huge personalities and funny quirks.  Teachers must dread IEP meetings with me---I've been known to attend hours-long meetings over the Princess.  There's always something to be said.

I know, I'm weird.  No need to say it, everyone's told me before.  But this weirdo makes awesome kids.

TOLERANCE

No, it wasn't a rough day.  Her hair looks like that 3 minutes after I brush it every day.

As a person who has been called "weird" and "crazy" her whole life, I've done my best to teach my kids a few things:

1. Different isn't a bad thing.  It's okay to be different.  In fact, in this house, it's highly encouraged.
2. Unique and creative are about as cool as you can get.
3. Who gives a turd what everyone else is doing?  If it was all that great, they wouldn't feel the need to recruit.
4. Other people being different is cool, too.  Be it that they look, dress, act, talk, learn, eat, pray, sing, whatever, in a way you don't do yourself, or in a way you don't know, doesn't make them any less "okay" or acceptable that you.
5. Most of the above has been taught in direct reference to the Princess' condition, which is an effort to teach someone with neurological issues.

"It hurts my feelings when you call her Autistic."--a grown member of my family.  IT'S NOT A FREAKIN NAME I'M CALLING HER TO BE MEAN, IT'S HER EFFIN DIAGNOSIS. . . AND IT'S OKAY.  The Princess is learning that Asperger's can actually be pretty cool.  It allows her to do things most kids can't. . .like her whole music savantism.  (That's not a word.  I don't care.)

So, when I was walking through the lobby at work and Tater pointed out her sister's name on the Character Kid wall, I got a bit stupid.

"Anistyn is always understanding of others' differences.  She also appreciates the uniqueness in all people."

Ohhhhh, I'm getting all choked up again.

Seriously, do you people understand just how friggin AMAZING this is?!

This is exactly how I want my children to be.


Excuse me.  I have to go freak out the Princess by attacking her with giant hugs.  And cookies.  Yeah, this def calls for cookies.

Tips for My Kid's Teacher

Fair warning:  this one ain't funny.

As the school year begins, I'm looking forward to having all 3 of my badass kids in the same building with me. . . but I'm also haunted by the Ghost of School Years Past.  I figured I'd use this paranoid opportunity to give a little advice to educators who work with Aspie kids (and consequently, have to put up with their crazy mamas).

Though I refer to the student in question as mine, this really goes for any special needs kid, just about.  And this by no means refers directly to the Princess' current teacher, who is awesome, and who I have full faith and trust in.

*Don't tell me my child threw a fit.  I know she does this crap, but you saying shit like "had a hissy" and "threw a fit" tells me that you view my child's disability to control her emotions as a hindrance on your schedule, a bother to you.  Be more professional--use the term "tantrum" or even "meltdown" instead.  This shows you know a little more about autism and the preferred labels.

*Don't underestimate her.  She will try to trick you into thinking she can't do something, just so she won't have to.  She's sneaky like that.  Caution:  this could cause a meltdown if not handled gently.

*Don't overestimate her either.  Seriously, folks tend to give this kid too much credit, due to her creepily high IQ.  But still, she's just a kid.  And she ain't got a lick of common sense.  Keep this in mind when it comes to any freestyle thinking projects you might assign.  Folks also tend to think she's more creative than she really is, because she writes amazing stories. . . but let me clue you in:  she plagiarizes the shit out of everything she's read.

*You hurt her, I hurt you.  This goes for your other students too.  Just so you know and won't be shocked if it happens.

BUT, there have been a few times when she hasn't responded to any other redirection or punishment.  Our wonderful first grade teacher handled this perfectly, I believe--she called me (at that time we were at separate schools) and explained the situation, then asked my permission to paddle, with a witness present, of course.  I had the thought of leaving work to take care of it myself, but quickly figured this was the teacher's place, her time to assert authority and let the Princess remember who was in charge during school hours.  I gave my permission, the teacher let me know the outcome.  Problem solved, crisis averted.

Now that we're in the same building, though, we use my presence as redirection and punishment, and I like to think this works out quite nicely.  But again, this is your time, you're in charge, assert your own damn authority.

*It's 90 degrees outside.  We have a king sized bed for a reason.  Get up off me and on your side so I can freakin breathe.  My bad, wrong list.

*She sees things differently than 'normal' kids.  She doesn't make the connection between her actions and others' reactions.  She just sees someone mad at her, and thinks they're mean.  Let's try to remind her as much as possible how her actions and words affect other people.

*I am at your beck and call, should you need advice, feedback, Clorox wipes, the evil eye, anything.  I listen.    Talk to me whenever you need to.  Please DO NOT wait until the Princess' behavior gets out of hand, then tell me, "But it's okay, the other kids have gotten used to it."  Hearing this from an amazingly sweet, kind-hearted teacher broke me.  My kid was that kid.  The "special" kid that the others had to "get used to" and ignore in order to go about their day.  Don't let this happen.  If there is a behavior problem, don't let me go about blissfully ignorant, don't wait until freakin April to fill me in.  Much more can be done if I know about it, and we can work together on stifling unruly outbursts.

*On the flip side, I'm open to all suggestions and input.  Just don't BS me.

*She has braces.  She's unaware of hygiene.  This gets gross.  Please allow her (and remind her) to rinse her mouth and check her braces for leftovers after snack and lunch.

*She's gassy as hell.  Please remind her it ain't funny.

*She can't sit on her butt for very long.  Sometimes you just have to make her stand for a while--she'll still do her work, she just can't be still.

*On top of Asperger's, she also has Tourette's.  Not the fun, scream random cuss words at old people kind of Tourette's, but the kind where she has tics in her muscles, and makes these awful animalistic noises when she feels she can't express her negative emotions.  If you're anything like me, you'll get so annoyed by this mess you'll find yourself growling back at her.  Not a good way to deal with this.

*I drink.  Sometimes she sees this.  I don't get drunk around her, but I drink.  Get over it.

*She tattles and bosses other kids.  Let's not encourage this.

*She is smart as hell, and catches onto scholastic concepts pretty quick.  So when she doesn't understand something, she doesn't know how to actually put forth an effort to figure it out.  She says its too hard, and gives up.  If you come up with a way to persuade her to try, and to convince her to actually use her brain, please let me know.

And lastly, if you have any problems with me, you really have 2 options:  Deal with it yourself, and possibly be miserable as you try, or just come to me and we'll work on it together.  Or, if you're not comfortable talking to me, there's plenty of her past teachers who could advise you in the matter of Mom.  Whichever's better for you, I don't give a damn, as long as it doesn't reflect in the classroom and/or on my child.

Just watch out--this woman will whup your ass with a stick if you have anything negative to say about the Princess.

Thanks, and hey, let's have an awesome year.

Seriously!

YES, I'M SURE IT'S AUTISM. JACKASS.

If you ever meet my child, the Princess, please don't make an asinine remark such as, "Well, she doesn't look autistic" or "I don't see it."

Most people see my little Aspie on outings, where she's interested in the change of scenery and the people whose ears she can talk off.  Yes, she's extremely outgoing and sociable, but she sucks at it.  She has zip social skills.  She can talk to you all day long, but cannot listen to a thing you say, nor will she reciprocate in anything resembling a conversation.

In more comfortable settings, structured and scheduled, Princess is much different.  When given directions contrary to her desires, she has full-on melt-downs and tantrums than can last hours.  During these outbursts, there's little one can do to talk her down.

She's also very sneaky and manipulative.

Getting her to do anything around the house, or to leave when visiting anyone, usually results in trauma, it seems.   Whines, screams, shrieks, physical self-attacks . . .on and on I could go with her negative responses and behavior.  But when she's happy, she's amazing.  So when ignorant jackasses say stupid things contrary to what I know about my own freakin child, I get a bit upset.  It ruins the happy moment I have watching my Aspie Princess in a good mood, smiling and laughing and enjoying life, and reminds me of the rest of the time.

Besides, ass, just because you don't see it, because you don't think the diagnosis is right, doesn't mean that me and her doctors are dumbasses.  We didn't force her to have autism.  I didn't ask for there to be something wrong with my child.  Don't freakin judge me and think you know more than I, her mother.  Even if you work with other autistic children---you're not an expert.  There are no experts in autism.  You may have experience, but each of these babies are so freakin different. . . ugh.

And another thing---she doesn't "look" autistic?  Are you freakin serious?!  What, exactly, is a child with autism supposed to look like???

'Cause this is what mine looks like.

Bottom line:  you know nothing about my children.  Don't look down your nose at me and pretend like you do.