Tuesday, September 24, 2013

A MEETING FRIEND


If you haven’t already got one, I suggest you find yourself a Meeting Friend. What I mean by this is we all need someone who is in a similar situation. You know, the other person who, like you, secretly wants to do the merengue at the water cooler at your conservative office, or the one who also thinks about global warming All The Time, or has to bring their own snacks to school because if they eat vending machine snacks they will be sick all over the common room. The other single parent. The one at the boozefest who’s also in AA.

Whatever your difference, it usually feels better when shared.  Who wants to feel “special?” Or be a martyr? Better to not be alone in differences and/or challenges, no?

For me, finding someone who, like me, was dealing with a surfeit of school meetings (both historically and currently) was a game changer. It made me, as the mother of a Full Spectrum of children, feel like I shared a challenging aspect of life with another human being. It gave me a chance to connect over meeting topics and strategies, rather than having to accept empathy/sympathy from someone who had no idea what I was dealing with or, more likely, choosing to simply keep my mouth shut.

Depending on your location this might not be easy – it took me eleven years - but it’s something worth seeking out if you haven’t already found that person or persons.

And so, without further ado, I present to you:


Ode to a Meeting Friend
For D

If you’re rushing and fleeting to get to a meeting
And you see a sad person who’s sad in their greeting

And you ask them what’s up and they say through a tissue
That the teacher or principal called with some issue

Ask, How many weeks in did it happen to you?
Wait…You’re on your way NOW to a dread meeting TOO??

It is then you will know he or she is The One
The person who’s having the same Special Fun

Say: I take it You got “the school call” today too?
I know how you feel and I know what to do!

Between two there are so many ways to face meetings!
Some sob fests …co-ranting…emotional eatings!

Between two the whole scene becomes funnier, normal…
You can bawl, laugh or BOTH now, without being formal.

So let’s sing the praises of the Meeting Friend
Who is there with the gluten-free agave cookies
Who is there cuz of knowing this stuff ain’t for rookies!
Without him or her your heart might not quite mend
I love you, I love you, my dear Meeting Friend.



Love,
Full Spectrum Mama

Thursday, September 12, 2013

A Spectrum Rainbow II


 A Spectrum of What You THINK You Are Going To Do 
This particular Spectrum has come up a lot lately so it seems like a good time to share:

Madelino warned me when Z started kindergarten that I would need a year to recover, at least. She said that I might think I was going to now be able to do all that stuff I’d not been able to do all these years (so, now, in addition to teaching, I would definitely write that novel I’d been meaning to write, find new work that earned lashings of money, see friends, organize our lives, have plenty of time to relax…and, oh, that memorial poetry cycle!).

But no. 

What would actually happen was that I would spend a lot of time on catching up on nine years [fill in your number here – or just insert “the summer months,” because that counts, too; or tailor your slightly unique accomplishment delusions to "during my week off" or "when I go on sabbatical"...] of barely accomplishing anything outside of work and parenthood, and a lot of energy on imperceptibly returning to human status.




                                        Figure I – Time/Accomplishment Spectrum Graph

Lack of Accomplishment: as this Scientific Spectrum demonstrates, it’s just…normal.


A Clarification Spectrum
As just happened with PiMP’s prior post, sometimes I make jokes on this here blog and people on certain parts of the spectrum take them literally and worry about me/us and ask me if I/we are okay when I/we are really fine and dandy. Sometimes my funny, funny jokes make people on other parts of the spectrum take them at face value (literally) and assume I/we are all fine when in fact I/we are struggling.

Is this a metaphor?


A Cupcake Spectrum
More than one person explained what the kids’ new school would be like in terms of cupcakes.

One pal told me that whereas at X school one must bake gluten-free, not-too-sweet birthday cupcakes - say, nut-free banana muffins with lightly maple-syruped casein-free vegan cream cheese frosting - at our NEW school the ones from the grocery store with the day-glo frosting are more than acceptable.

Another said that while homemade cupcakes are de riguer at most area elementary schools, and especially at the private schools, at our larger, more urban school nobody even notices such [stuff].

Clearly, at G and Z’s new school, parents are relatively free to simply provide celebratory sugary treats of their choosing without judgment or condemnation! People with special dietary needs – well, I dunno. We have been a gluten-free and dairy-free household and now are mostly sugar-free, yet this felt super-liberating, as fall is a barrage of Full Spectrum Birthdays.

As a trained Sociologist, for what that’s worth, I was naturally* ruminating on the socioeconomic implications of cupcakes, when, come to find out, G being the least spectrum-y person on the spectrum in his class, he’s got classmates with dietary restrictions for the upcoming birthday event.  So here we go again with the gluten-free, casein-free, low-sugar (chocolate, though!) cupcakes.

In any case, the important question remains: where on the cupcake spectrum do “allergen-free,” “good for you” and “tastes good” meet?


Two Mess Spectra

Not only do the Full Spectrum children exhibit eclectic Mess styles, with Z’s messes shipshape and lined up and G’s…prodigious –



    Figure II – Z Room (Mess)                                         Figure III  - G Room (Mess)

 -- they also manifest a Cleaning Spectrum of remarkable breadth.  While both children’s messes may cover an equal area (area=entire surface area in room), one will take ten minutes to clean her room while the other will take ten hours.


Similarly…

A Tiny Expression of an Eating Pattern Spectrum



    Figure IV – Z Plate                                                     Figure V – G Plate


A Family Spectrum

Dennis and Jules had both come from families that hadn’t really felt good. This they’d shared and when they’d come together it was to make a home that did feel good, and even to say: Fuck you, disappointing families.
Meg Wolitzer, The Interestings, (p. 299)




                                              Figure VI – A Family Spectrum Bell Curve

We are just, kinda, on the tryna keep it in the warm color range plan.


A Hoochie Spectrum

A friend started giggling at my bemoaning Z’s back-to-school choices: “the flashiest, pinkest, cheapest-looking, hoochie mama-est item, every time!!!!” She said that her daughter chose her entire fall wardrobe from “The Hooker Line” and showed me some pretty great examples on her phone. And the thing is, these are smart, strong girls being raised by strong, feminist women, and, mostly, we are laughing about it.

Sure, this being Vermont, kids have no problem with second hand, and we get lots of hand-me-downs from fabulous young wimmin/womyn/womin/wymyn. But there are inevitably a very few things that we still have to buy in the Big Stores.

In that context, I can see pretty early in on this shopping-for-daughter thing that buying gear for Z is going to be a heck of a lot more tricky than it’s ever been with my son. It seems some children have strong tendencies toward what one might refer to as pizzazz. And some parents want their daughters to be making creative and satisfying choices that nonetheless skirt the safer boundaries of hoochie mama. Hoping for healthy self-esteem and body-awareness to trump mass culture and the sexualization of children and tweens.

And then there are those parents who maybe had a little too much pizzazz themselves and want to shelter their daughters from the dangers of pizzazz…and those who, lacking in pizzazz, encourage their daughters to new heights of pizzazzified self-expression…

Yeah, it’s a…Spectrum.


Meanwhile, at the other end of the Spectrum, I am trying to get G to be more materialistic: “Isn’t this pretty rock n roll? Pretty punk rock?” I’ll ask…”Wanna buy it?”

As my best friend Lucy used to say, “Horrors!”

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama



* Get it? Naturally?





Friday, August 30, 2013


Dear Readers,

I am sorry to inform you that Full Spectrum Mama is taking a little “vacation.”

It seems that when she picked up her children from school yesterday -- having spent the day in a panic attack on the toilet – and both children declared the first day of school “TOTALLY AWESOME,” FSM had a small nervous breakdown and had to be carted away in the Mombulance* to a “’Special’ Place” in order to have a surgical ECG** reduction. 

I am sure she will be in very good company with all the other First-Day Extrapolator-Catastrophizers, along with your general Extrapolator-Catastrophizer population.

Sincerely,
Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona (PiMP), Guest Writer/Troubleshooter





Thursday, August 29, 2013

...And a Small “Boo”

Maybe that “double yay” was a little disingenuous. And disingenuous is Full Spectrum Mama’s LEAST favorite thing.

The truth is, drop-off for the first day of school was devastating and I’ve spent the entire day sick to my stomach.

All summer long, I have been coaching both children (for different-slices-of-spectrum reasons) to spend their first days at their new school observing and listening. We have discussed at length how much there is to learn from taking a step back and proceeding with care. How great it might be to get to know people and what is expected of you before charging forth.

Yet when I circled back to check in on G on the swarming playground, he was standing alone and shouting at the top of his lungs. Kids were already avoiding him, five minutes in.

When I tried to stop him he said he’d made a friend and needed to find him, though G, not surprisingly, wasn’t “sure what he looked like.” I sure hope that’s true, that he’d made a friend and all, but I suspect he wasn’t going about his friend-finding in the most effective fashion. In sensory-overload situations G tends to get super-flappy, as some of us do.

Cheers and prayers for all of us first-day-of-schoolers (workers, etc.) – it’s sense-y and people-y out there!

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama


“Do you attend this scholarly institution?” or, “Do I know you?” or, Shifting Gears IV*


One minute I’m making good-natured fun of my son; the next I am realizing we share a ridiculous amount of stuff I didn’t even know about prior to becoming his mother. Obviously, learning about ourselves is NOT the main point of parenting (!), but it sure is a side effect!


Take face blindness (prosopagnosia). I always thought I was “bad with names” or “not really great at recognizing people I don’t know well.” I assumed that everybody was pretty much the same in this regard, that it would take anyone months or, more likely, years to even begin to distinguish, for example, between the fifteen or so medium-sized, slightly sporty/preppy mothers at school with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. Hey, if not for my flashy/freaky clothing I could be one of them and I still can’t tell them apart.

But I guess everyone else...can?

Face blindness is common in people on the autism spectrum and presents in a range of degrees, in this as well as in the general population. G’s is somewhat more severe than mine, but I know he will develop coping mechanisms. In any case, if G sees someone dressed like me with hair like mine and pinky-beige skin, he will think it is me. His mother. He might figure out pretty quickly, from other cues like voice or not being recognized, if he’s got the wrong Mom, but there are moments like that, and many similar…

Age is a tough one for him, especially because he doesn’t really care about it; Gender he usually gets (though that can be fluid, which he is totally comfortable with…). But once gender is clear, other aspects are fuzzy. The boys in his old fifth grade class, all of Caucasian descent, to me were basically either stringy or pudgy at this age, and I could not tell them apart aside from that. With a few exceptions, G seemed to feel the same.

Both G and I saw the diversity at his new school as potentially a big boost in this area, especially as compared to his profoundly homogenous prior school.


Or take another commonality: vocabulary and formality of speech. Watching G interact with his peers has taught me that most people of all ages speak much more casually than we do. By the time I realized how this might impact G, we were already far too deep into a lifetime of reading old-fashioned books to backtrack.


Here’s a little vignette that illustrates both qualities, face blindness and unintentionally hifalutin speech:

We went to check out the kids’ new school a few days ago. There were two upper elementary school age looking boys riding bikes around the playground in the company of a young man in his upper teens or early twenties.

G approached the man. “Do you attend this school?” he asked.

“No, but my friends here do,” the man replied.

G got right up in one of their faces (which one? Not sure. They looked the same to me!) and asked, “What can you tell me about this school of yours?”

“I dunno, regular stuff,” the kid said, in regular kid fashion. “We eat pizza, play on the playground…have lunch…”

“Thank you very much,” said my son. “I appreciate your input.”


The next day, Noodle and I were talking about a college friend of hers who “got religion.’

“Did you anticipate this propensity throughout prior interactions?” I queried.

Now, Noodle being Noodle, she didn’t blink an eye. But I burst out laughing. I mean, who am I to worry about my son making friends on the playground?


Soanyway, amidst this huge shifting of gears -- today being the first day of school -- I am happy to report that the very first two kids G met in his new class BOTH had “differences” from the white, able-bodied, neurotypical norm in which we were previously immersed. This will make them easier for G to recognize and, perhaps more importantly, will also render G himself less “different” in the scheme of things.

Double yay!

Love,
Full Spectrum Mama

 * Shifting Gears I (http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/06/shifting-gears-part-i.html) was the most polarizing post I ever wrote. In Shifting Gears II (unpublished), I couldn’t help but perpetuate that polarization. Then, in Shifting Gears III (unpublished), I began to try to break it down and make it a spectrum rather than a bifurcation. But I had to…ahem…shift gears for the new school year!!!

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

The Quick Brown Fox Jumped over the Lazy Dogz


On the final day of camp there was a performance by all the children. An acquaintance who has an eleven-year old daughter with a mild attachment disorder (the daughter, like Z, was adopted) was in the audience. Before the show, this mother and I sat slumped next to each other, sharing knowing sighs and stories of power struggles while our daughters prepared to rule the stage.

“It’s like with [her daughter’s name], we always say, if you ask her does she want an apple or a banana she will say, ‘Can I have an orange?’”

“Oh yes, I said. “That’s Z all over. And it NEVER ENDS. That’s what’s so tiring!”

“I know,” she replied. “And people will say, ‘oh, that’s just normal’ but it’s not; it’s so much more.”

I shared the story of being at a fundraiser where a friend was selling jewelry. We had gone to a previous fundraiser and the friend had been charmed into giving Z not one, but TWO beautiful and valuable Svarovski crystal bracelets. This time, as we approached the house, I told Z that she was not to accept any jewelry from my friend. I explained that Friend Ayi (auntie) was trying to raise money to cover her bills, which were mounting because of serious health problems. Z agreed.

“Since we don’t have enough to contribute to buy ANY jewelry,” I added, “we will simply make a donation and keep her company.”

Somehow, though, Z found herself with two bracelets in front of her. This time, at least, the bracelets were less valuable, less likely to garner real money for this family in need than the other baubles scattered over the table. It seems, unsurprisingly, that Friend Ayi simply could not resist the adorableness and apparent giftworthiness of such a fetching child. As my daughter looked winningly at me in front of a bunch of people, I finally caved in and told her she could make a choice of one of the two bracelets.

“Hmm,” she thought for awhile, tapping her chin. Then, pointing at a very costly, bedazzling necklace she asked, “Can I have that one instead?”


She and I had a good laugh over that one. We both knew everyone else at the party thought Z was simply being cute, and that is a part of it…said part being rooted in such Will to Power, such persistence…It was nice to just sit with someone who knows.


Wanna know someone else who knows? Z. She could persuade almost anyone about almost anything. Children are particularly vulnerable. In fact, one of her classmates last year informed his mother that Z knows “EVERYTHING.”

We were at dinner the other day with the Full Spectrum Grandparents and somehow the sentence “The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dogs” came up. We talked about how it uses every letter in the alphabet and how great it was for practicing writing or keyboarding.

“It has to be 'dogz' with a 'z,'” Z informed us in a very confident, professional-sounding tone. “Because the alphabet does not end with ‘s.’ Everybody knows that.”


It’s a potentially perilous combination, Z’s desire for total control with her appearance of total knowledge. We just keep hoping she will use it for the greater good.

Over and out, dogz,
Love,
Full Spectrum Mama