"MOTHER APPEARS DISHEVELED"

Dear Persons,

I was listening to NPR not long ago and ended up sobbing in the car. Again. The segment that got me this time was on voting rights (read it, and possibly weep, here), and how in many states persons who have appointed guardians do not have the right to vote. Whether to apply for guardianship of my son is probably the question I struggle most with on a day to day basis (followed closely by even more terrifying questions about what will happen to him when I am gone). The thought of my brilliant, politically-engaged son being unable to vote was one more tally in the non-guardianship column. I want to always err on the side of presuming competence, yet I always want my child to be able to, you know, live...sometimes despite himself.

I mention this not because this matter is resolved, but to point out that for parents with atypical children, and for people of difference in general, the world out there (your basic radio show, and so on) can be a bit of a minefield.

I have many friends – who I still speak to! – who like to say “Oh, it’s hard being the parent of any kid.” Sure, I will give you that. And I will gladly agree we most of us love our kids the same agonizing, rapturous, heart-expanding amount. But I am not Full Spectrum Mama for nothing: I have one typically-developing child and one who is developmentally and neurologically atypical and I can assure you it is not the same kind of hard! When your child develops differently there may be taken-for-granted, essential life skills that he or she may develop late...or never.

The idea that G will “grow out of it” – whatever “it” is – is thus often meaningless and certainly not reassuring.  For example, all his life G – despite assiduous and almost-constant attempts on my part to change this - has used his clothing as a combination napkin/tablecloth while eating. And that’s when he notices he has food on his face or hands...which he usually doesn’t. In the scheme of things, I’d like to think of this as minor – I mean, G is extraordinarily KIND and FUNNY and SMART – yet how will this be viewed by a potential employer? Or partner? (And no, I do not mean typical sloppiness, my “all kids have challenges/all boys are slobs” friends.)

Or perhaps your child is or you are (as am I) at the other end of the noticing/reacting spectrum and barely able to function because of obsessive compulsive (OCD) needs and/or sensory overload from crumbs and the like?

Maybe G’s table manners will improve someday. Maybe someday I will be able to ignore a single crumb on my finger. But sensory processing differences (SPD) and other neurological differences are often integral to who we are, part of our very biology. Neurodiverse and differently-abled persons may develop neurological, practical, and/or emotional strategies to function in a world that was not designed for them – and sometimes doesn’t make sense - but there is much we will never “grow out” of...

My conservative yet highly clinical estimate is that I worry about G a million, billion, gazillion times more than Z, my typically-developing, typically-abled daughter, even though she has had her issues as all children do...

I usually write more from the perspective of a child advocate, or in efforts to spread awareness and acceptance of difference. This time, I wanted to write about what the parents I know who have children with extraordinary challenges feel like a lot of the time, both to acknowledge and honor them (us) and to spread awareness on this front.

I am not complaining – my child brings me extraordinary wonder and joy every minute of every day – I am explaining.

Those of us with who are different, or have children with differences – or both! – have to navigate more-complicated, often “inappropriate*” (to us!) environments and interactions – environments and interactions that may feel overwhelming, cruel, arbitrary, opaque -- almost all the time. In a very real sense, the “problem” is the world, not our kids/us.

My Meeting Friend became my dearest and most-cherished support-network-of-one when mutual friends who knew our children kept suggesting we connect, and then our paths kept crossing en route to and from Meetings, therapies, etc. etc. My Meeting Friend was once at a Meeting – of which one has exponentially more with an atypical child (and yes I know this from personal Full Spectrum experience) – and glanced over at what one of the “professionals” there to evaluate and assess her son had written on a pad and read, “Mother appears disheveled.”

Now this is a mother who has willingly and bravely made changes and sacrifices for her child beyond what most could even imagine. That very day alone I am positive she had already cooked several different healthy breakfasts taking all individual food allergies into account, carefully planned out ways for both of her children to have their own kinds of successes (including – egads! – athletic successes!!!!) and learning experiences, gone to great lengths to ensure social interactions and a beneficial sensory diet for her son, written several emails regarding grades, social situations, IEP, 504,etc.,  made sure her other child felt “just as important,” oh - and worked at her job...** With a smile on her face.

I am impressed she even had clothes on after what she has been through. But there that note was -- amidst, I am sure, other stuff (such as “EXCELLENT parenting!” and “Kid is PERFECT, just a WEENSY bit unsuited to the average boring old, sensory-/social-nightmare classroom”)  --  ...”Mother appears disheveled.”

Figure I – Disheveled Mother

...Ya think? And I wasn’t there at that particular Meeting, but I do know that she has had the grace to laugh about it ever since.

My friends, do you appear disheveled or know someone who does? From crying in the car, maybe? Are you disheveled on the inside even if you appear “heveled” on the outside? You are in good company.

Much Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* “Inappropriate” is such a trigger word for many on the spectrum. There are a lot of “normal” things we find “inappropriate,” believe me (and there is no monolithic “we” in either neurodiverse or neurotypical contexts!). Nonetheless our children are often told, especially in school, that X, Y, or Z is “inappropriate”...One hopes that some consideration is given to the possibility that people who perceive and process differently may have different standards – and not always assume that neurotypical standards are the correct and appropriate ones. 

** How do I know these things? Because I know my Meeting Friend. But also because I and most other parents I know who have children with differences do these types of things Every Day. I just wrote a letter to G’s teachers and “learning specialist” while I wrote this footnote.

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!

An InLinkz Link-up

INFANT MASSAGE CLASS: “EARLY SIGNS”

Articles and blog posts on the early signs of SPD (sensory processing disorder, which I call sensory processing differences) and autism fill me with a mixture of recognition (yes, much is familiar), trepidation (at this point I’ve reached a certain level of saturation and also seen many stereotypes and errors), annoyance (ditto, plus the occasional offensive or condescending bits can set me back for days), and, sometimes, gratitude (after all, some of this stuff could be very helpful to parents – and most writers mean well!).

I usually find that I am holding my breath as I read, waiting for the triggers...yet I am compelled to read, always hoping to learn more about our neurodiverse world.

My son G was diagnosed with SPD at three, autism at eight. Being a bit spectrumesque myself, I would never have thought there was anything about him that needed to be evaluated (his evaluations were always at the behest of his teachers) but in retrospect a few things stand out.

My earliest memory of being aware of G’s possible difference from his “normal” peers occurred in an infant massage class. We mothers – this was in the East Village, in New York City, but yup, all mothers – were told to sit in a circle. I don’t remember precisely how old the babies were – early parenthood is kind of a blur – but they were all quite young, a few months old at most. We had pads and brought blankets and placed our babies on their backs on those blankets. We were given diagrams of massage strokes and instructed in proper technique for stroking and soothing our babies.

Infant massage was meant to be a bonding exercise. To stimulate our babies’ brains and help with their digestion! To make them happy! Healthy!

Except - my baby didn’t seem to be with the program. While all the other babies enjoyed a free and loving massage – yeah, try getting that a few decades down the line, babies! - my darling G was having none of it.

Figure I – Infant Massage Class. Not Shown: Ashamed Mother.

As soon as I tried to massage him, heck, as soon as I lay him down on his back, the screaming would start. Sure, there was the occasional peep from another baby, but nothing like G’s agonized cries. I actually tried three sessions before giving up in despair.

Clearly, I was missing some important mothering skills. I blamed myself, of course.

When G was a baby, I thought of myself as someone who accepted all people, someone who would never discriminate on the basis of ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation...Someone who accepted and loved people of all sorts. Yet I knew little to nothing about neurodiversity!

It would have been helpful to me as a new mother to have a positive concept of other kinds of difference, an idea of the incredibly wide ranges of neurology, physiology, psychology, sensitivity, sensory processing etc. that make up human beings. Obviously, this would not have led to shifting blame to my baby! It just would have made things make sense.

It would have helped to know that my baby needed deep pressure, not fluttery strokes that probably felt like torture to him. It might have been best to keep him partly or fully wrapped so that he could locate his body safely in space, instead of flailing around. He never liked being moved; there might have been better ways to transition him.

Instead, all I knew - in that context, with the limited knowledge I had – was that something seemed wrong. Since I myself had also always been “different,” this initially added to my disorientation and self-blame.

These moments keep coming, but now they come cushioned with fundamental commitments to diversity, acceptance, and hope.

When you and/or your child live(s) with an invisible, complex difference, explanations and strategies can be elusive and imprecise. I still sometimes don’t know whether my child needs help; and when he does need help I don’t always know how to help him. Sometimes I try to help him in unhelpful, unwanted or unnecessary ways, as do others. Other times we miss the boat and G is on his own with his challenges when some wisdom or support is sorely needed.

When G was screaming in the otherwise serene and harmonious infant massage space, I knew he was deeply uncomfortable, but I didn’t know that he had SPD, or that he was autistic, and that his sensitivities would benefit from a very different approach. Parents who recognize their children in “early signs” lists will I hope have important tools at their disposal, not least the knowledge that all parties concerned are doing their best – and that that is just fine. For the Full Spectrums, the labels that apply to us are mostly useful in that regard.

There’s still so much I don’t know, but I do know our differences are not our “fault.” I know that what is “wrong” is not us but a world that is primarily designed for the “average,” “normal” person – whoever that is.  

I know that I accept and celebrate G exactly as he is.  Same for me. And you. And you, and you, and you...:

This blog is a safe space for people to recognize a full spectrum of human being, and to explore how we might make the world a more welcoming place for all. Parents and caregivers who are searching for ways to understand, connect with, and support their children, individuals who are exploring their own differences, early-signers and adult-figure-outers, you are all welcome here.

Please visit the other sites below for more informative and inclusive posts.

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!

An InLinkz Link-up

FOURTH ANNIVERSARY LISTS III: CHOOSING YOUR BATTLES

Dear Persons,

We only have so much energy in life. In my last post, THE FULL BUCKET, I wrote about what happens when that energy is all used up. Choosing your battles is one way to ensure you avoid getting so drained that you are no longer able to function well...

This year, I will give two simple examples from the Full Spectrums: Armpits versus Teeth, and Grades versus Manners.

Choosing your battles doesn’t mean you abdicate any discussion of or efforts toward other areas of life – it just means you reserve your mightiest strength for those areas that seem most deeply important for yourself and/or your loved ones.

Here are two choices I’ve made for us:

            1. ARMPITS VERSUS TEETH

Middle schoolers stink. Even with deodorant. Especially if you start with the crunchy granola natural stuff. We are on the Old Spice Ultra-Chem Turbo Level by this point but it only gets applied, shall we say, intermittently. You see, my G has very, very little interest in hygiene. So if I want to be sure he is doing something hygiene-related, I have to supervise.

I stopped brushing teeth with G about a year ago, trusting that he would take responsibility for this important matter. We found out the hard way last fall – when he had to go under general anesthesia to have a tooth pulled --  that he was not ready to brush his teeth alone. Now we brush our teeth together again, with him leading. Ten brushes in each spot. This is non-negotiable.

Sure, I ask G to put on deodorant and ask him if he has done so...but with my limited time and energy, sometimes deodorant doesn’t happen. Tooth brushing does.

Always.

            2. GRADES VERSUS MANNERS

How many talks do your children really want to listen to? Z is one of those people who is able to excel at anything she cares to excel in...So her consistently getting all threes (“meets grade level expectations”) on her report card is...unexpected. Sure, I’ve talked with her about this – quite a bit.

But I reserve my most heated, heartfelt talks for the area of what I call “real manners” (i.e. the manners that are about kindness and respect, not the right fork). Because Z has grappled with an attachment disorder since she came home, she’s always had issues with feeling she doesn’t have enough, and with control. These factors come into play frequently when it comes to sharing and treating others with basic respect.

I know Z is a tough cookie who will always make her way successfully in the world, so I don’t lecture too, too much on grades and hard work. But for her to feel good inside -- and for others to feel comfortable around her -- she needs to learn to act with “real manners” in heart and mind. This, like tooth brushing, is non-negotiable, so I save my heartiest lectures for this subject.

Because I am not at her all the time about certain other stuff (grades, etc.), we are both able to be more fully present in this important, healing arena.

We are all works in progress. It matters that we take a little time to see where our efforts can be most effective – and to ponder what we most value.  This can vary, of course -- the key is to take a step back and determine which battle you will choose.

The next and final anniversary post will be the most popular, putrid  post of the year: THE COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT!!! We at FSM are a leetle behind this year on account of because life, so there’s still time to get your COMPLAINTS in!

Thanks and love,

Full Spectrum Mama

Third Anniversary Lists III: Choosing your Battles

Does anybody else obsess over self-driven cars?

One of the battles I am most loath to contemplate is that with my son over driving.  As focused as G can be, he may be easily distracted, especially in unpredictable environments -- and his judgment and sense are “still developing.”  If those self-driven cars could just hurry up and become available and affordable, I could sidestep the whole thing!

There are a couple of other battles we are fighting here and now, though, reducing the free time I have to think about future technological developments. I do this particular yearly list because it’s a handy format to share some insights from the last year’s struggles. While there have been a number of individuals and institutions that the Full Spectrums might’ve considered deserving of a nice smack with the hateball bat this year, I am going to stick with the positive, dedicating this post as usual to stuff you can try at home.

The critical differences between my children – my son is autistic, socially-awkward and very open-hearted; my daughter was adopted from china and has an attachment disorder; she is very savvy, and kind of a tough cookie – necessitate a lot of soul-searching in terms of how to best parent each/both. Parenting these two very distinct persons may (best case scenario) help me see what sorts of parenting strategies might work with a variety of children.

Here are some battle-choosing tips for my FULL spectrum:

1.      BOTH children benefit from Tackling One Task or Trait at a Time. I have found it’s better to monitor/learn something specific like “making the bed” over a more broad category such as “neatness.” The way that I CHOOSE which tasks or traits are addressed rests on which skills and traits will be most necessary to their lives as they grow up. With G, my choices tend toward practical skills and self-disciplines that will allow him to live independently; with Z, I tend to focus on skills and traits that encourage her to “grow the good,” to feel safe and secure enough to be kind and generous.

2.      (Try to) Be Consistent and Patient. Once you’ve chosen a battle, stick with it. It can take a loooooong time for habits to become ingrained. I am still working with G on “making bed,” while with Z it took a few days. Consistency is key – and a challenge to maintain on top of everything else…

If you are like me, you get t-i-r-e-d. Sometimes you may need to take a break from enforcement and get back to it once you’ve recharged. You’ll know pretty quickly whether you’ve been at it long enough for something to become a true habit when you start that break.

3.      Find the Right Reward. Z’s pretty easy: food. For a long time I was using “common sense points” for G and “goodness points’ for Z, and when they reached a certain number they got to choose a reward. This worked really well with G -- so well that he chose to stop doing it “because I have so much common sense now.” But it was, I think, a little too vague for Z, who never seemed to get above 10, anyway. So now we have malted milk balls that Z gets when she listens in school:  Specific Goal (see 1) and the Right Reward (3). For G, gum and screen time are enticing rewards; he has a lot of Specifics to work on, though and I haven’t been as Consistent as I should…

(Oh, I’m sorry…was that new-mama-ME who vowed she would “never bribe her kids”??? Welcome to reality, my old friend.)

4.      Assuming you’ve truly chosen worthwhile battles, you’ll want to eventually find ways to make the battles you are trying to choose for your kids become Their Own. Transfer control to them eventually so that you won’t have to do whatever it is (making bed) or remind them of it (be kind!) FOREVER.

I see autonomy as an ultimate goal and challenge for G, since his neurology can make basic daily tasks a struggle (mostly in terms of simply remembering to do them).  So a big goal and challenge for me, then, is to help him see why he should and how he can take on practical skills.  

Helping Z develop her superego (that part of the self that has a conscience and promotes pro-social, ethical behavior), so that she will be kind and honest when I am not monitoring her, is also an “ongoing process.”

5.      This last battle is not a FULL spectrum issue, as Z is a voracious and completely un-picky eater. But G, as with many people on the spectrum and/or with sensory processing differences, would prefer to “live” on a diet consisting entirely of white, sweet, bland food.

So, here are the Food Battles We Choose:

a.       The “One ‘No’ Rule:” G is allowed to refuse one item at each meal.

Because he is by far the pickiest eater in the house, and the rest of us tend to eat all sorts of things, this seems reasonable.  On a given night, I may find myself picking spicy greens out of the mesclun, mushrooms out of the rice, eggplant out of the relish… before even presenting Himself with His dinner. Egg-zaust-ing. Now I allow one choice of a food that will not be on his plate; the rest is up to him as below:

b.      The “One Bite Rule” is the perfect corollary to 5.a. Sometimes it means at the very least that all the remaining foods offered will be tried, however reluctantly…Sometimes it actually leads to a changed opinion: one time, I made G try the romanesco cauliflower which had been his expected “no” choice and then, having decided he liked that better than expected, he chose not to eat the cooked bok choy.

Fascinating, I know, but the “One Bite Rule” does sometimes create such mini-revelations.

Coming up, the next Sensory Blog Hop plus… what you have all been waiting for!…the most popular, putrid post of the year! : THE COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT! FSM has been a smidge behind the ball these last few weeks and is very much still accepting last minute complaints at jineffable@gmail.com.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

SOOOOO CONNECTED

For Nephy.


My gal Fern came last weekend with her two-month-old baby who was adopted at birth. He is a mellow little dude, easily soothed. Spending time with him, I was reminded of my babies when they were little babies, and both of how precious, intense and full-of-feelings that time is and of how very widely it can vary.

I was not reminded of my babies themselves, though, because I never had any baby like that.

Both of my babies were on the high, high needs end of the spectrum. Although we did not know it at the time, G was already experiencing the difficulties of sensory processing differences and cried relentlessly. He seemed genuinely uncomfortable much of the time. (Bonus, he hated feeling wet so much that he basically potty trained himself really, really early!)

We were similarly unaware of this at the time, but Z came to me in full-on attachment-disordered mode. I couldn’t put her down for TWO YEARS. She would scream in a way that set me on edge (this is called non-attachment-promoting crying, and sounds angry rather than helpless-babyesque) at the slightest threat of separation.

We were all snuggling together peacefully – baby, kids and I --- when Z asked, “Was I like Nephy [what we started called the baby pre-adoption, short for nephew] when I was a baby, Mama?”

“Um….Not really.” I had to think for a moment before speaking. “I loved you very much, just like Fern loves Nephy…But…you were not a mellow dude. You wanted to be held all the time and got very loud and angry if I wasn’t holding you.”

“Oh Mama, we must have been really connected!” she exclaimed.

Er…Not what I I’d’ve said…but…Yes!

“Yes, sweety.”

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

ON BULLYING

The other night, Pardner and I watched Bully. I almost wish I could unwatch it. I sobbed through the whole movie.  I am NOT the one who needs to watch these movies that show how awful bullying can be and make points about why we should not bully. I’ve always been in the get-bullied category, along with G. (Also, it was like me watching Forks Over Knives  or Glass Walls. That is, I am already vegetarian, and it HURTS to watch this stuff!)  

Bully should be required watching, though, for all students and all parents just in case. And all schools. All people, okay? If you are around children and/or teens in any capacity, and have the possible capacity to influence them in such a way as to potentially prevent bullying or protect someone from bullying…PLEASE DO. You could be saving a psyche or a soul…or a LIFE.

In honor of this sentiment, I have decided to publish a post I wrote long ago but never published. This situation – which occurred four years ago - was so tender to me that I long worried that I might have risked writing with bias, or out of anger. Enough distance and space have passed to feel comfortable in what I say, and to know that the post is as objective as it ever will be (bearing in mind that I believe strongly in truth and integrity, but also know that there are always a range of perspectives!).

Thank you for reading.

ON BULLYING, or, YAY, PARENT A!

This is the story of one of the worst things that ever happened in our household.

One time, when I went to pick G up after school, two older girls were teasing him. I saw them from afar, heard singsong voices. G ran to me crying and said they were “bullying” him.

I approached Parent A. She had a talk with her daughter and her daughter apologized and in fact became a friend to G.

Parent A knew that

1.      kids sometimes act thoughtlessly cruel and that

2.      they should be called out on it, sensitively of course, but firmly, and that

3.      most kids will grow and do better, if given the opportunity to do so.

I approached Parent B, the father of the other child. He agreed to speak with his daughter.

However, when he did so, his daughter completely denied any teasing or bullying. Parent B then called me, and insisted that his daughter had not teased my son, despite my having witnessed it, despite the other girl admitting to it, despite my son’s words and tears…

I knew Parent B’s daughter sometimes had problems with lying, and my son had told me she was teasing him on several previous occasions (just not through tears – he had been able to “handle it” the other times). I knew that accepting our children’s lies and not giving them consequences for misbehavior cannot be a good thing. But what was I going to say to someone so determined to believe their child that they would ignore the observations of three other people?

So I let it go.

Really, what is there to say in such a situation?

A few days later, Parent B approached me in the parking lot of our children’s school. I had both kids with me. G ran into the car as, to my surprise, this man began to yell at me and get in my face. Gutsy, tiny Z stood her ground, holding my hand in her little one.

He began by berating me for what I was wearing: “Look at you!” he sneered. I looked at myself. Yes, I was wearing a sundress. I am sometimes “guilty” of an Aspergian disregard for propriety and convention in attire and other areas but: sundress. He proceeded to yell at me for what felt like a million years, with choice bits such as, “"You have a problem and I am going to make sure you know it and pay for it" and “You’re gonna get what you deserve!” and “You know why this is all your fault! You know why you feel guilty! You know you have a guilty conscience!" and so on…

Have I mentioned I was completely blindsided?

I am not at all good at responding to aggression for many, many reasons, some neurological, some psychological…When overwhelmed by emotions and/or sensory input, my processing speed drops to ZERO. I am -- quite literally -- unable to feel and think at the same time, never mind talk. The only coherent things I was able to utter, each more than once, were: “Please stop yelling at me in front of my children,” “What are you talking about?” “Please step back!” [he was all up in my grill, sort of under my grill, actually, as he was shorter than me], and – the only even slightly offensive thing, but in itself kind of a 1950s B-movie sort of utterance -- “You have a lot of nerve!”

Plus, I wasn’t able to defend myself because I wasn’t even sure what he was talking about: What did I deserve – and why? Why on earth was I “guilty” – and how did this rather random fellow know all about it when I did not?

Also: why the rage???? Clearly, he was trying to “defend his child” – but from what, exactly? From the consequences of her actions? And what about her actions? Considering that he never once mentioned his daughter during the entire tirade, something else was going on there!

I was so confused.

Then he went on to my parenting: “Everybody knows there’s something wrong with [G] and you’ve done NOTHING about it!”

After some more choice invective, he concluded with, “You obviously don’t care about your kids at all!”

At that moment, I was able to say my first logical sentence of that awful “conversation” (As if somehow I had to justify myself to this lunatic!):  “What are you talking about? [Okay, that was not the good part.] My life revolves around my kids!”

“Your life,” he sneered triumphantly, “revolves around finding more boyfriends!”

I walked away, dazed and silent, hand in hand with my baby girl.

Lovely, lovely eidetic memory: every foul sentence Parent B had spewed was seared in my mind for all eternity.

My baby girl hugged me, hard, when we got in the car and said, “I am sorry that bad man was yelling at you, Mama,” and I – usually totally against making our children take care of us – drank in that hug and those words like the nectar and comfort they were. I had just been literally attacked in the parking lot of my son’s darling, cozy elementary school, a place that had felt as safe and sacred to me as a place could feel.

Later, I took further comfort in knowing that I have spent every possible bit of energy since G’s birth trying to do right by my children. I took comfort in knowing that autism is a neurological situation, not a psychological one “caused” by “refrigerator mothers” or some other nonsense.

I took comfort in my KNOWLEDGE that there is NOTHING “WRONG” with my son! I can’t say it didn’t hurt – hugely – to know that “everyone” “knew” there was “something wrong with” him. I didn’t give a rip whether people thought I’d neglected to do something about “it,” but such gross misperceptions of a wonderful, kind, loving boy broke my heart. And as much as I knew Parent B was exaggerating, I, sadly, never felt at ease in that town again.

I took comfort in my peaceful and (mostly) happy and healthy family (remember: peaceful, healthy and [mostly] happy, not perfect!)

Both fathers in the children’s lives -- my ex-husband and my now-husband, the gentle and even-tempered Pardner -- wanted me to press charges. (And you know when my ex is mad at someone on my behalf it musta been bad.)

But I didn’t want to “cause” more problems…

After a few days of processing, after I finally stopped shaking, I was able to have some thoughts: OH! So that’s what this is about? Let me get this straight: the reason G has autism is I am someone who, after I got divorced, dated someone and, upon occasion, wore a sundress?

Or: if only I had “done something” about G, Parent B’s daughter would not have found it necessary to bully him?

Or: is it that the reason she bullied my son was because *I* deserved it? And I know why, right?

Also: I guess G was not “credible” because there was “something wrong with” him???

By the same token, I suppose my word, too was worthless! Everybody knows lying goes hand in hand with being a liberated female, not to mention a gay divorcée. You see, there’d apparently been some conjecture around town – spurred by a neighbor/”friend” -- that different cars had been seen at my house on different nights…Guess what, gossips, my future husband had several old cars when we were first dating. Oh, and I have friends.

***NB! I reserve the right to date whomever I please! As many at a time as I so choose! Additionally, unlike the aforementioned gossips and believers thereof, I reserve the right to reserve judgment about people to what I’ve directly experienced and know to be true.***

Call me literal.

Oh yes, I was shaken. It was a wretched experience. Even now, I find myself shaking FOUR YEARS LATER as I think about these events.

In time, I came to realize that Parent B had an extra-large helping of what some of my friends and I refer to as “iss-yews.” He’d essentially been taking out his own insecurities and anger (said “iss-yews”) on an easy and vulnerable target: a single woman with a non-typical child.

Nice going, Sport.

The take-away: I now bear in mind lessons learned around:

Bullies:                               
      >> They exist. Be careful. Handle with administrative support where possible.

Discrimination:                   
      >> Exists, persists. Ditto.

Hidden, but entrenched – and strong! And ugly -- blech! – misogynyy:
      >> Ditto.

Gossip:                                
      >> Inevitable. Live your life as fabulously and honorably as you can!!!!

Ways to approach adult bullies (or NOT):     

      >> Don’t. See above.

Teaching children boundaries and values (and what not to teach them!!!) -- and

Teachable moments in general:
      >> Can be hard, but are sometimes necessary -- or unavoidable.

The sometimes misguided ferocity people feel around “protecting” their children (yoohoo, catering to lies does not serve/protect our children!):

      >> Can result in the perpetuation of a vicious cycle of emotional or even physical violence.

How people can conflate their own iss-yews with their kids’ iss-yews, in molto toxic ways:
      >> Strange but true. (This relates to the synergy I experience first hand from learning about the spectrum vis-à-vis my son and then myself, in what is a substantially more healthy dynamic!)

How some people will dismiss and/or attack you for being “different” (autistic, single, whatever…it’s all about context and narrow-mindedness!)…

      >> …And how some people will NOT!

…and so on.

It seems like – I think? Probably? - for neurotypical people, the majority of these things can be obvious: people gossip, people act like jerks. G and I do plenty of things that tick people off, but they are 99.9% unintentional. We have to remind ourselves of the possibility of these unfamiliar and intentionally hurtful possibilities in order to be able to handle them atall. For what it’s worth, both G and I have been bullied less as we have integrated the above and gained some social skills over the years.

He heads to Middle School next year so I won’t get too cocky or prescient here.

As for Parent B, I know we are supposed to forgive people. Maybe I will get there one day. For now, though, I still want to kick his as$. And, seriously? With a little advance notice/processing time I could.

Anyhoo, if at all possible, if you ever find yourself in a situation where your child is teasing or bullying another child, be more like Parent A…PLEASE?

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

...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

The Least Popular Kid in the Class – Part Two

At the time of the Least Popular Kid in Class Incident (http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-least-popular-kid-in-class-part-one.html), I tried to get the scuttlebutt on what – besides crying -  happened after G answered the day’s question, but continued to get “stuff” in response.

Chances are, he was genuinely unable to put his feelings into words.  We are neurologically quite similar, and it took me until, oh, last year to realize that where I stand on the spectrum, I tend to get upset before I understand exactly why I am upset (never mind putting those feelings into words!). The overwhelming quality of intense feelings precludes clarity around those feelings until the strong feelings subside. This can be true of overpowering sensory feelings (such as those experienced by sensorially-sensitive people in the average classroom), as well as emotional ones.

Still, knowing that he needed time to process was not going to directly aid G with his lack of popularity, or make him feel better about crying in front of his classmates.

Outside of suspecting it would not be really, really helpful to tell G, “But you’re my very best friend, buddy!” I was at a loss of how to help my child.

So I wrote G’s teacher along these lines:

Dear [teacher],

I love that you start morning meeting with a question. I do the same in all my philosophy classes [read: I am not about to bust your chops for asking big questions]. And I think yesterday's question was a great one. I’m just unclear on exactly what happened after [G] answered the question and then, “for some reason” (according to him), began crying.

When you get a chance could you let me know a bit about what happened yesterday so that I can best support [G] at this time? Or if you have any suggestions...

I know you have your hands full, so at your convenience.

Thanks so much,

[Full Spectrum Mama]

Responding via email, G’s teacher explained that a number of students had been being inattentive or having side conversations while G spoke. Other students had interrupted him, saying that he was wrong about being unpopular. These latter, while acting with good motives, “were not speaking in turn or being respectful to the process.” These factors contributed to G’s frustration.

He assured me that he had never seen anyone be intentionally or directly unkind to G, but admitted that G is often left out or “not paid attention to”…

He concluded with some positive thoughts: “As stressful and unpleasant as it was, I believe that the log jam's been broken and we are going in a positive direction with this very social class.  While I apologized to [G] for him having to go through this situation I also thanked him for giving us all the opportunity to examine our careless and thoughtless behavior and make positive changes.”

Whew!

It was a great gift to have a broader picture of events, and to be able to engage G in a slightly more nuanced processing of what had happened. Not that any of this is going to turn G into someone who doesn’t sometimes get flappy, or extra-loud, or reveal new heights of dorkitude. It might help him accept himself, though, and that’s more than good enough for those of us who love him.

“Free to be You and Me,” with its messages of inclusion, celebrations of difference and our family favorite song “It’s alright to cry,” has been on pretty heavy rotation in G’s room the last month or so. He seems to be feeling less lonely at school, but he’s still asking to spend recess reading in the library because, for him, navigating the playground scene is tremendously daunting.

Now, over a month out, I think everybody was right: lots of kids grew and stretched to be more inclusive and thoughtful following this incident – but G may still have good reasons to cry in school.

Sometimes, too, he may not even know why he is crying.

What he will know is that crying is healthy and totally, utterly, absolutely super alright: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y52bs0aX6v8 *

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* Best. Video. Ever.

First Anniversary Lists IV: The Complaint Department

Our Guest Writer, Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona from The Complaint Department, has been working hard to bring you this list.  Warning: Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona, or PiMP for short, has compiled and macro-infested the bitterest and snarkiest elements of Full Spectrum Mama’s first year, many of which Full Spectrum Mama might not even have noticed, saintly as she is.

1.     The Make-Your-Own-Problems Division.

We make most of our own problems. The Complaint Department suggests you unmake – or contend gracefully with – such self-created problems.

Therefore, The Complaint Department maintains a strict non-acceptance policy in its Make-Your-Own-Problems Division.

2.     Bullies.

Yuck.

Can you believe bullies are real? Grown-up bullies, too! Solo-style, as well as Group Models, including Mean (Old) Girls (and Boys), Institutional and Family-Pak…

Children who bully often learn to do so at home. Watch out for their parents.

Those in the school-disability-“special education” worlds who bully often do so from budget and staff frustrations. See if you can get through the armor to the love of children that brought them there in the first place. Bonne chance!

But, okay, sure. Complaints about bullies are acceptable during regular business hours.

3.     Sorry.

Say you’re sorry. No, PiMP does not care what happened OR whose fault it is and don’t Make The Complaint Department have to Pull This Car Over.

Oops! Sorry, wrong medium.

4.     Help.

If you have a partner, if you have a babysitter once a week, if you have a choice between working and not working (vs. those who must work), do not complain about not having any help. The Complaint Department knows far too many struggling single working parents to accept complaints in this area.

      a. Have some perspective, people.

5.     Snacks.

There is a required ten-minute minimum time-lapse between the asking for of the snacks.

Furthermore: If, sequentially, you have asked for and received, a banana, a cheese stick, a clementine, a yogurt squeezer, a bowl of cheddar bunnies, a granola bar, baby carrots and hummus, and raisins and nuts and an apple, that is enough.

6.     Money.

If you have never spent weeks worrying over running out of toothpaste, or had to choose between

a.     raiding those expired bags and cans at the back of the cupboard and paying for heat, or

b.     going grocery shopping,

do not complain about money.

Except, perhaps, to others of your ilk - but definitely check their ilk to be sure.

Yes, we at The Complaint Department know that you say things like, “We’re all struggling right now” to express a sense of, “Wow, I get it,” but that’s just trifling.

You know who gets it? PiMP and her friend over here who both just bought one bag of cotton candy even though we each have two children because those bad boys cost FOUR DOLLARS.

Please see 4.a.

                  The Complaint Department will only accept complaints about money from those with a  
                  generously allotted income limit of $30,000 and below. (F.Y.I.: it is remarkably easy to
                  join this select group, albeit exponentially harder to leave.) Most other complaints about
                  money will be deemed to fall under Rule 1, above.

7.     Children.

                  If you have mentally and physically healthy, neurotypical children, do not complain about them under most circumstances.

In particular, you shall not complain about them to people who have no children, whether by choice or via “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

Nor shall you complain about them to people who have children who have issues of health, learning differences, disabilities, sensory or social issues or other significant differences or impairments…

If you must complain, then kindly preface your complaint with, “Praise the universe, I am very lucky to have such an easy life compared to the lives of those with harder lives” (which will probably be answered with “Praise the universe, I am very lucky to have the child/life etc. that I have…” BUT the preface should still be uttered as a preventative measure).

And please see 4.a.

8.    Speculation and Normalcy.

The Complaint Department thinks everyone is REAL SPECIAL. How did they get that way? We do not know. How should you act around them? Ditto.

Our affiliate, Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg has formulated some great models around dealing with people. Here’s one: http://www.disabilityandrepresentation.com/2013/01/28/how-to-talk-to-normal-people-a-guide-for-the-rest-of-us/

9.     Special Dispensations. 

True Friends, Wise Ones, Elders, Those Who Get It, Family Members from Group A,* and, generally, people who don’t take themselves all that seriously or are seriously cute (such as some children) are not subject to the above Complaint Department Guidelines.

Now that The Complaint Department has brought you this exhaustive list, The Complaint Department is closed. The Complaint Department will re-open on the 32^nd of Nevruary.**

Sincerely,

Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona

* Family Group A is a generic term for certain members of all families and consists of non-offensive family members.

** Thanks to Uncle G. Fullalove (Family Group A+) for introducing the Full Spectrum family to this convenient date.