Showing posts with label hormones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hormones. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

WHAT IS PROGRESS?

I read a lot (a LOT) of posts – whether in adoption communities or neurodiverse ones - about how people’s children are “making progress.” Progress with sensory differences is one major theme, and uplifting, inspirational posts can be found in abundance. I find a lot of news around “progress” with a range of challenges in autism as well.  Since I tend to only follow writers who start with the basic assumption of accepting their diverse selves (and the diversity of their children) unconditionally, as they are, I typically enjoy such posts, and think they give us all hope.

I've read and learned a lotlotlot about adoption and attachment disorders, too; and I'm grateful to have done so since it felt like we were desperate and failing as a family until we gained some context and strategies for my daughter's behaviors. For Z, who was adopted and has struggled with an attachment disorder, progress means healing - gradually - enough to let go of attachment disordered feelings (distrust, panic), and the habits and actions that come with those feelings. Progress, in Z's part of the Full Spectrum, is a unilaterally good and necessary thing. 

I think a lot (a LOT LOT) about how much I do for my son, who is on the autism spectrum and has motor and executive function challenges, compounded by raging teen hormone fog (that’s a medical term). I wonder how much my “help” is actually enabling him -- in a codependent, non-helpful way -- to not learn how to do things, take responsibilities, etc. I try to remember that, but for safety concerns, it’s generally best for him to learn to take responsibility for himself and do his own stuff (dishes, cleaning, “organizing”...) even though he may actually make a much bigger mess doing so...

He’ll never learn to live even partially on his own if I keep waiting on him hand and foot – something I do basically because it’s easier for me. As G takes on more day-to-day tasks, that is PROGRESS – and it’s a good thing.

He’s also made huge strides socially, verbally, in athletics...His momentum in all these areas is a testament to his hard work and efforts.

As a neurodiverse adult, however, I sometimes question a narrow view of the necessity and function of progress. I also I see myself making so much less “progress” than my son does…

Big breath.

I wonder if, for me, it’s at this point more about acceptance, whereas for him he’s still growing so, so much.  While his presence during this period of great growth certainly benefits those around him in increased awareness and good company, it’s primarily about him. Teaching people is not his job, being his best G is his job.

My job, as his mother, is to help him become the most content, competent person he can be, while respecting his unique wonderfulness. I would also like him to “progress” in self-advocacy: both in learning what he needs to succeed socially, academically, and so forth, and in being able to express those needs in order to grow into who he wants to be. In any case, much as he has never, ever been interested in even the slightest efforts at “passing,” he wins most people over with his exuberance and huge heart and humor.

Me, I’m still growing inside to some extent, but my PROGRESS is really more about learning about neurodiversity and spreading that awareness, as well as advocacy in general -- and for my son and me.

In images, I think it might go something like so:

Figure I – Progress for G and Z



Figure II – Progress for Mama



Like so many phenomena, progress may be viewed as a Spectrum: for my daughter, it's a straightforward positive; for my son and me, it's more complicated. We need to make sure that our attempts at progress are in line with our inclusive values, rather than succumbing to the biased standards of a neurotypically-inclined mainstream. Ideally, my efforts at public advocacy, along with those of others in this blog hop and beyond, expand the possibilities for defining -- and celebrating  -- our own progress, goals, and selves.

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama




Welcome to the Sensory Blog Hop — a monthly gathering of posts from sensory bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about what it’s like to have Sensory Processing Disorder and to raise a sensory kiddo!

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

BEING 12


 I was talking with a very close friend about a crisis* G had in school last week and, after I’d been blabbing for some time, she said, “Well, you’re so focused on his autism what with the blog and everything, and, you know, all kids have struggles…”

Oh dear…Is that what people think, that for us it’s all blog and/or autism? To clarify, I have three jobs now. So it’s a privilege to think about this darling blog for even a fraction of a moment. Second, this conversation had nothing to do with the blog [until now, anyway] or G’s having asperger’s. Did I mention autism during my diarrhea of the mouth**? No. This – all this I had been sharing with her about what happened at school, which incident was very painful -- was
about
being
12.

This was, maybe, partly, also, being a child of a tough divorce. But autism? Not so much. The main crisis-inducer here was, again: being 12.  Luckily, we are good enough friends that we were able to clarify our respective perspectives well and move on, but it sure got me thinking…

Is 12 the hardest age? My vote is yes.  You are still so young, but bravely trying to be “grown-up.” You are sullen, self-loathing, monosyllabic; while also still wanting and needing to be taken care of and adored. You are still extremely cute and squeezable, yet you are, at times, a jerk. Other times, you are sweet as sunshine. Then: jerk! Sunshine. Sunshine. Jerk.

It’s SO moody at 12.

Your peers are starting to have serious interest in whoever they might be interested in romantically; and, although you might not be quite there yet, you feel it stirring. And it’s confusing.  Watching G sometimes, one can almost see the new feelings and hormones moving inside him, moving him, like the sap running in trees this time of year.

At 12, most kids won’t admit to still liking to play…and yet they do still like to play, in private or at home with younger siblings.

Sure, maybe for G, he’s a bit developmentally behind his peers, but being 12 is something that happens to most people at some point, whether they are 11 or 13 or…


Being 12 is, for G, about knowing soon you will have to put away your stuffies.



Figure I – G has a LOT of stuffies. His treasured seals [one is a manatee, oops!] are in front.***

Being 12, for G, also means still being enough of a little one to offer your best stuffies to your mom when she is sick.



      Figure II – Healing Stuffies, Blanco and Blancli, on Mama’s Pillow****

Being both of these is tender, and raw, and HUGE.

Sometimes things in the Full Spectrum household are pretty near idyllic, and sometimes they are decidedly not. Sometimes that non-idyllic situation has to do with autism or an attachment disorder or something else entirely…Sometimes, for pure awfulness as well as the occasional marvel, being 12 is enough.

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama


* Yes, I do use this word advisedly.

** I know I promised less diarrhea-focused writing; this is diarrhea of the mouth.

*** Please, those of you for whom this blog is not anonymous, DO NOT SHOW THESE PHOTOS TO YOUR 12 YEAR OLDS!

**** None of these stuffies will be gotten rid of. It’s possible they will “belong” to G’s younger sister in future, or move to FSM’s bed (shh, pardner doesn’t know about this), or be given to deserving, saintly little ones in great need.