Archive | Aspi(e)rations/AD(D)orations RSS feed for this section

Lessons learned (a.k.a. maybe ask)

You know that I always bake for school meetings, right? And for when my kids go off to their weekly gaming night? I love to bake. I can no longer actually EAT most of what I bake, but that’s okay. It makes me happy to feed other people. Funny story: usually at the holidays I start making cookies at the beginning of the month and bake all month (sometimes making/freezing dough to bake later, sometimes baking cookies and freezing them) so that we can give out goodie baskets at school before the winter break. That’s not the funny part. The funny part is that I just found out that one of the teachers we’ve been giving cookies to—ready for this?—has a wheat allergy. She didn’t tell me (and assumedly doesn’t know that I’m also allergic); one of the kids figured it out.

I felt terrible, of course. Our past gifts were useless and perhaps we seemed thoughtless. What if she hates us now?? (I’m glad I didn’t overreact or anything.) But I didn’t know! So today I emailed and asked some questions (Celiac or allergy? Is cross-contamination an issue? Do you even like sweets??) in preparation for Cookie Season. That was well-received and now I know how to proceed. It’s almost like… things go better when you get clarification. WEIRD.

This is a clumsy lead-in to my post today at Alpha Mom, in which I learn that what I think about a situation matters a whole lot less than what the person actually IN the situation thinks about it. Again: WEIRD. Who knew?

Comments { 3 }

Whoops, it’s okay

I realized I may have—in my attempts to be privacy-shielding and vague—accidentally left the impression that the sky was falling with that last post. And no, I wasn’t smart enough to figure it out on my own; rather, after a bunch of concerned emails followed by one from my dad asking what was going on, it occurred to me that sometimes I need to distinguish between “feeling miserable here” and “genuine crisis here.” So. Um. Oops? I’m sorry! And thank you for the concern!

Long story short, Monkey has been ill, but in that special Monkey-licious Aspie way of “NO I AM FINE I JUST HATE EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING AND LIFE IS TERRIBLE!” It doesn’t matter that we’re coming up on 16 years of this, every single time I have to go through this trajectory of “Oh my God what is WRONG with him?” and “Wait, I think he’s sick” and “But no, really, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM??” before we get it figured out. And in the meantime, it’s frustrating and he’s in pain and everything sucks. (Long story even shorter: Did you know that a severe Vitamin D deficiency can make you feel like garbage? True story!)

In the meantime, life marches on, and as we continue preparing the other kid for college (hey, at least she can tell us when she’s sick, so she has that going for her), I made sure that even though things are going really well in Chickieville, I still have something to worry about. I’m great like that. Fellow parents of ADHD kids, you’ll want to check out my post at Alpha Mom today.

Comments { 13 }

You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry

Actually… most of you probably WOULD like me when I’m angry. But other people… not so much.

Anyway, I’m trying to cool down, but: I’m angry. Every day, in a dozen tiny ways, the world misunderstands my kids. That’s the nature of the beast and my mantra is to assume people are generally well-meaning and kind, and ignorance isn’t malice, after all. But every now and then, the ignorance is hard to bear.

I dusted off my soap box for this one, because disability is not laziness, and teachers—of all people!—should know that. C’mon. It’s 2015.

Comments { 9 }

Always bucking the trend

I love reading articles about “today’s teens” because they never actually sound like they’re about any real-life teenagers I’ve met. Granted, my special snowflakes are the specialest and the flakiest (haaaa) and their friends also tend to be anything but regular, but still. “Kids today” are risk takers! “Kids today” act first and think later!

Well, okay—that’s true even of my kids, I guess. Except instead of using drugs and sleeping around, my kids are doing things like stabbing each other in Minecraft “by accident.” (OOOOOHHHHHHHHH! Rebels!!)

Therefore, I humbly offer as an antidote to umpteen articles about how kids today are all suffering from FOMO: A piece about teens dealing with the opposite of FOMO, over at Alpha Mom, because ’round here, that’s how it goes.

Comments { 2 }

In related news: girls are complicated

Hey, I wrote some advice-y stuff and forgot to tell you about it, but then I remembered: I wrote a thing about girls and autism because someone asked, and also because I find it a totally fascinating topic.

Having a kid or two with special needs means a lot of adults who were never diagnosed in childhood end up learning important things about themselves and going OH MY GOD THAT’S WHY as they go along just trying to meet their kids’ needs. I, myself, am not autistic (although—GEE I AM SURE THIS IS SURPRISING—boy am I having a ton of conversations lately about ADHD Inattentive Type because… what were we talking about…?), but I have found myself lucky enough to befriend a significant number of autistic women who have taught me a TON about my kids. Even better, they’re just plain some of my favorite people. (We all know I appreciate a well-placed lack of brain-to-mouth filter, and, well, autism is good for that.)

Girls are different. Girls with autism are especially different. You can read more at Alpha Mom if you’re so inclined.

Comments { 9 }

In which I pretend to have a grip

There will always be an element, for me, of “why in the world would you assume I have any idea?” even when I am being paid to dispense advice. The technical term for this is “Imposter Syndrome.” The Mir term for this is “just being my normal neurotic self.”

Today at Alpha Mom I’m offering up some thoughts on knowing when to suspect autism spectrum disorders in your small child, now that I have the luxury vantage point of my kids being nearly grown. On the one hand, I’m not an expert, and I’ll be the first to tell you I made (and continue to make) a lot of mistakes… but on the other, my general philosophy on when to seek help is a simple one, and I think it’s served us well over the years.

And in other news, I found three tiny, perfect cherry tomatoes this morning that the squirrels missed, so I’m taking that as a good omen.

Comments { 2 }

… but I play one on the Internet

So I told my children this morning that I was going to be writing an advice column for Alpha Mom as a “teen expert,” fully expecting them to laugh and laugh, but instead they both just looked… puzzled. Like, it wasn’t even FUNNY that I’m pretending to know what I’m doing, it’s just SUPER PERPLEXING. [Is your ego getting out of hand? Try TEENAGERS! They’ll knock you down a few pegs in no time!]

Nevertheless, we’re forging ahead (thanks, in part, to your positive support when I first asked if you’d read it), and the first one is up today. Woohoo! You can hop on over there to read about transitioning your ADHD kid to middle school, which is a scary proposition under even the best of circumstances.

Comments { 4 }

Making things is both awesome and scary

Whenever my children are being buttheads—and trust me when I tell you this happens plenty often—the default tension-defuser is for said child to declare, “YOU MADE A THING!” Translation: “I’m a butthead, but you made me, so clearly this is your fault.” (Monkey also loves to follow it up with a gesture towards his sister and the addition of “You made TWO things!” Har har.) And it’s true, I made two things which are apparently now full-fledged individuals whom I cannot control. TERRIFYING.

I feel compelled to make LOTS of things. Some of them work out, some don’t. Some are successful, some not. Some are scary, like when I decided it would be a FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC idea to purchase this mushroom-growing kit because HOW FUN! Mind you, I am the only person in our immediate family who even LIKES mushrooms. But SCIENCE! We watered it and peered at it for about a week, wondering if our kit was a dud. But then… look, I’m just going to hide this under the fold in case fungus freaks you out. It’s freaky. But if you dare, click through and behold the FUNGIPOCALYPSE. (more…)

Comments { 6 }

Admitting ignorance is the first step

Remember the old saying about how a kid’s parents get dumber and dumber until the kid is an adult and then—magically—the parents start getting smart again? We’re going through that right now, and I always thought it meant that hahaha, the kids would think I was dumb when really I wasn’t, BUT NO, I’ve come to believe that I am truly losing brain cells as they get older. My poor kids, and their dumb ol’ mom who can barely function anymore.

For a while there, Monkey was very fond of declaring, “It’s okay, I’m a doctor!” in response to any sort of doubting of his ability. This morphed into, “It’s okay, I’m a DOG-tor!” (usually while holding a dog, natch), and now it seems like everyone in the family uses it as an all-purpose response. Well. The other day I tried to say “It’s okay, I’m a DOG-tor!” and it came out more like, “It’s okay, I’m a dog door!” and now Chickadee is fond of saying, “It’s okay, Monkey, Mom is a dog door.” I have no idea what any of that means, but there you have it. How dumb am I? I am SO DUMB, I am now a dog door. (May I show you to the run? It’s lovely out there.)

In the meantime, my children only increase in their ingenuity. About a week ago I discovered Chickadee’s watch left on my desk after the kids headed to school, so I sent her a picture of it with the caption, “OH NO!” She replied with this image, and the caption “IT’S OKAY, I GOT THIS.” Because of course.

All of this is a long preface to two things. The first thing is that driver training continues apace even though I am really dumb, and you should go read about it over on Alpha Mom if you are so inclined. The second thing is that we’re thinking of launching an advice column over on Alpha Mom sort of like Amalah’s Advice Smackdown, but for questions specifically about older kids and teens/young adults instead of little kid stuff. Would you read that? Would you ask stuff? Would you ask stuff and read it even if I—clueless and confused much of the time—was the one writing it? Any and all feedback welcome, and if you’d rather just send in a question because you think it’s such a great idea, hit me up at alphamomteens@gmail.com. (Have I mentioned lately that you’re my favorite? You totally are.)

Comments { 24 }

Reentry, Casa Mir style

I went away for the weekend and it was GLORIOUS. Listen, I know I tend to exaggerate for effect, but this is simply the truth: I have not had several days free of responsibilities (read: children) in, um, a really REALLY REALLY LONG TIME, and so with the help of a few amazing girlfriends, I spent 48 hours doing every ridiculous cliched “GIRLS’ NIGHT OUT” activity we could think of, far away from my delightful but needy family.

We: Ate sushi, drank wine, went to a spa and wore ridiculous robes, window shopped, made chocolate, gabbed endlessly, took pictures of our food, consumed a metric ton of chips and pico and bacon (not all at once), and donned matching pajamas. I cannot tell you how healing this was. I am terrible at putting myself first and so over the last few months I have just become more irritable and cranky in the name of “doing the right thing” (spoiler: not actually the right thing if you’re turning into a jerk!) until Otto sat me down one day and informed me that I needed to go on a trip. “I don’t care where you go,” he said. “Just take a couple of days and go have fun.” (He’s the best.)

It was amazing and then I came home and reality smacked me in the face, because that’s how it goes. I wasn’t even unpacked before it became clear that my son’s welcome home gift to me was… well, you can read about it on Alpha Mom, but you should probably bring some hand sanitizer and vitamin C.

Comments { 7 }
Design by LEAP