Being in the Photograph.

A tremendously good friend forwarded me some photos she snapped of a group of us girlfriends at the beach a couple of years ago. We live in different cities far from the coast and had all travelled in for the weekend.  The photos were a lovely surprise and a welcome gift.  I think it was a late September day in the UK which should have been wet and dreary but we caught a heatwave bubble and basked in glorious weather.  We almost had the beach to ourselves, our favourite seals popped their head up out of the water to say hi again, we had beach chairs and beach blankets, full tummies from breakfast and it was our final day at the coast.


Now, on first glance I look like a person who perhaps would or should have body issues.  I'm a little more round than tall although great boobies help me carry off an hourglass-ish look!  I have a little more latitude than longitude.  My face is quite round.  Without makeup - which I hardly ever wear - I look a little lived in... happy but lived in.  I am not particularly photogenic at all.


BUT... here's the important bit... I LOVE THE PHOTO'S.


They capture a group of friends all relaxed in each others company, laid out on the sand, laughing, making sand castles, spending time, reading books, resting before returning home later that same day to demanding families and demanding jobs in demanding cities.  There had been a couple of differences of opinion that weekend, that's what you get when you have 7 independent and strong willed women together.  The photos captured how much it was important to us all that we were still all together the morning after the disagreement.  It was perfect in it's imperfection, to me, at least.


What was photogenic is the love we have for each other.
Even when the object of the image is blinking in the photo (me) or is in repose in a chair in a not very flattering fashion, or when we've got our hair in an informal bun with no loose bits for framing the face, and no make up and so forth, the love we have for each other is clearly present.


I used to shy away from photos but nowadays for the most part I welcome them and it is all because I read a story of a lady reminiscing about her life.


The lady had said that she wished she'd been in the pictures, that she'd captured the moments of her husband and children but that she wished she had something to look back on in photographic form to capture the moments that she was in the image with them, that they'd shared it all together.


So, when someone points a camera in my direction nowadays I think to myself


"This is who I am, this body is kind to me, it nurtures and sustains me with good health, stamina and ability, and in 20 years time I'll wish I had this picture, scraggly hair day and all, and in 20 years time I'll wish I looked as good then as I do now, so take the picture and make sure I get a copy!"


Dear friends, please be in the picture. 


Let people capture the wonderful moments and the moments which turned out to be wonderful after all.  The ordinary times together are valuable.  Be glad you have a body, be glad of it's strength, be happy in the opportunities to share memories with great companions.  Don't pose, live a life of poise.  There's a lot of happy to be had. 

Friends, Buddies, the Squad, The Tribe.

The past 4 years have been a colossal change for me and my little family.
Some things are great,
Some things are still challenging and an ongoing project.
Some things are just life, like bills and taxes.


What has made the difference between existing vs. living is pretty simple.
a) steely determination
b) my people.


Now when everything surprisingly and in catastrophic fashion hit the fan one Sunday evening, within 2 hours when the environment was made safer I texted my girls, my squad, just saying something like:
"I really need some love and support, I think my marriage just ended".


Not prone to any form of melodrama, they knew immediately that it was serious and they were as shocked as I, and were as supportive as any person in the history of humanity. 
I've never known better people. 
My heart sings at the thought of them, they're magnificent.


We were offered safe places to sleep (which I should have taken but was in too much shock), we were told we were believed, and we were told we were loved, and we were trusted to take the next steps - whatever they ended up being - they trusted in my ability when I didn't know if I did anymore.


I think in pictures then translate to words in order to communicate.
When I think of my people, my tribe, I get a picture of a cute little house and a white picket fence with a sturdy gate.  Then there is a second perimeter picket fence and a third.  My buddies are in the picture as walking straight through the outer, middle and inner gates.  They have permission to come and go, my house is their house, their hopes and dreams are my hopes and dreams for them.  Strangers and baddies are outside the outer perimeter, various levels of acquaintances are within the other gates.


Over the last 4 years it has gotten to the point where we need a bigger mental first garden, there are so many great and wonderful people in our lives.  The image that comes forth is of a garden party with pitchers of cool drinks and pretty chairs and blankets on the lush green grass.


But the image of the cute home is the grounding force, that is permanent, the fences move to accommodate new people but the house doesn't move, it represents known values, permanence, steely determination and grit.


You find your tribe through shared values, living up to the declaration of who you say you are, and by being kind even when there are other options available, by being willing to learn and grow, by listening to your elders in experience and years, by acting on what needs to be done, and sometimes people join you in those possibilities.


There is no space for wishy washy engagement here, time is short, life is urgent, it can be taken away and with that knowledge in the first person all the other priorities fall into place. 


If you are contented, be contented.  If you are upset, tell a friend, they can listen.  If you are pensive, excited, overjoyed... be those things, sometimes two or three of those things at once!  It gives other people permission to experience their life too.  It's awesome and contagious.


Some days have been ugly, authentic, raw and unfiltered.  A couple of people have sometimes been around when those days occurred but mostly it is a retreat to the house and wait for it to pass experience for me.  So, sorry to those people who were around when I couldn't filter the feelings for polite company anymore... I'll try and learn from those times. Or maybe, next time I won't try to spare you from it.  Let me know your preference on a self addressed envelope and I'll get to it.


Be willing to go it alone and be willing to accept company if others are headed in the same direction.


In advance of 2nd International Platitude Day, we only get 72 goes around the sun if we are lucky... if you are going to waste a day, realllly waste it.  Do it justice.  If you are facing something unpalatable, face it, get it done, endure it, grow and develop.  This too shall pass.  And look sideways sometimes to see and recognise who is at your shoulder, sustaining and supporting you.  It may be surprising who you find there. If they look sideways, do they see you?  Are you sustaining and supporting them too?  I think you are. 

Too much stuff and the camels back

Recently I managed to get my kiddo in to a routine.


That's no mean feat, I hear you say, most children transition to a routine in the early years.
Ah HA! I say, she is a mid-teen and this is the first time she was receptive enough to adapt.


The daily routine was simple enough:
Get Up, tidy your room, have a whip round the bathroom (move your laundry, towels and products), pick up after yourself through the house, and do the dishes.
Then you can go back to doing what you were doing for the remaining 23hours and 21 minutes in the day.


It's the school holidays, I'm working full time and I'm tired of picking up her debris as I walk in the house after a long day.


It was working well-ish, I'd come home and be able to walk in the living areas without clambering over stuff, I'd be able to start dinner without having to do the days dishes first (rental house, no dishwasher).  It was going pretty ok-ish.


Then she went to camp.
And she left her room in a colossal mess.
Then I got all "Woe is me" and flopped down on to any available nearby chaise lounge.


We live a simple and stripped back life, no room for clutterbugging and yet she still seems to find a way.


I swear teens don't see the mess.
If I see one more "floor-drobe" in my life I cannot guarantee being responsible for my actions.

Kids, Pre-loaded Humans

You get the kid you are given.

People arrive already pre-loaded with a personality and a neurology.

You can encourage happiness and health, vigour and vitality, but essentially you are working with the piece of marble in front of you.

Some people are lucky and are gifted with compliant kids who throw up few challenges or spanners in the works.

Other people are lucky and are gifted with non-compliant kids who occasionally throw in a happy and problem free day but challenge the adult to learn, grow and develop.

If you are kind, and if you are actively a decent person doing the best they can with parenting, nothing you did or didn’t do made your kid the way they are.

It is not unheard of for families to raise a happy and compliant first child, then do the same thing with the latter children only for the child to respond differently.

It’s like gardening.

Nobody I know can make a chili plant seed.

They can take a seed that’s been identified as a chili plant and provide the right environment for it to grow and develop.

But they cannot take the atoms at the present time and create a chili plant seed.

Sometimes people identify the chili plant seed but it turns out to be tomatoes.

The gardener didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just slightly different than anticipated.

You cannot pat yourself on the back for having good and compliant kids.

You cannot berate yourself for having challenging and non-compliant kids.

They came to you as a human, with their own wants and wishes.

It’s your job to make the best of the situation.

Make hay while the sun shines.

Dig in, stand firm and love harder when the difficult times come.

But don’t be patting yourself on the back, you’re reaping a harvest that was not of your making.

And who knows, next time you may get a tomato seed.

The trick is, how do you make the best of everything placed before you?

We bought a trumpet

My daughter is a polymath, someone who picks up skills pretty easily for the most part and is pretty great at most subjects but not outstandingly brilliant at one or another by comparison, it frustrates her like crazy.


So, we were enjoying the Sleepless in Seattle soundtrack in the car on the way to Church on Sunday and the song "Kiss to build a dream on" by Louis Armstrong came on with its crisp and clear brass solo toward the end...


The conversation went something like;


"I haven't heard this song in years, since I was about 8 years old!  Oh I love this song"
"Really?"
"Yep, and this sounds like a great wedding tune for a first dance"
"I was just thinking exactly the same thing!"
"I'd love to play the trumpet"
"Would you like me to pick one up for you?"
"Oh my gosh that'd be amazing, yes please, I want to be able to play 7 instruments by the end of the year"
"Ok, I'll have a look online and see what I can do".


Fast forward to today, one cheap n cheerful trumpet procured for delivery this week.


Why?!  Why do I offer these things? 


If you need me at any time in the next year, tap me on the shoulder to gain my attention.  These bad boys are going to be my best friends for the foreseeable future.
 

Politeness, watching slugs play rugby.

When people have a pop at your kids, and when there is an unequal balance of power in the pop-er's favour, it is prone to bring out the momma bear.


I have a friend, lets call her "Beryl", who feels conflicted because back in the day she was raised in an eggs-is-eggs environment, where you said it like you see it, where the strongly worded and vocal disagreement was had, everyone knew where they stood, there was a victor and the vanquished, and then you all shook hands and got on with life.


Nowadays Beryl feels it is death by a thousand cuts.


There's lots of being required to be polite, to word emails carefully, to not be seen to be too authoritative, to be seen to be collaborative, to be reasonable.


In the immortal words of my mum, "I'll Give You Reasonable!!!" while rolling up her sleeves and taking out her hoop earrings!


Someone forgot we live politely nowadays, they got above themselves and verbally abusive, and forgot that She Is Defended.
So, off went emails for traceability, politely worded requests, a declaration of my position in this matter, polite polite polite.


This would be Gibbs from NCIS's nightmare in boatbuilding terms because it is going against the grain.  There's a reason you should go with the grain, it smooths the edges, you get better results, but I guess in Lumberjack terms it is necessary to go horizontal in the cut rather that vertically as per the growth if you want to fell the beast ahead of you.


Now, Beryl's tummy is tied in knots because historically this situation could have been resolved by now but it is so very, excruciatingly slow, like watching slugs play rugby, and this is not a situation with which we have an ample quantity of time. 


So, move it people!  Get a wiggle on, light a fire under your feet, get cracking, get it sorted because your way is not necessarily correct.

I love the internet and how it assists in parenting.

Recently I posted on the topic of parental frustration and how to wake a very tall and grouchy child without being injured.  It was a request for suggestions as I'd tried everything I knew on how to manage the situation with grace and panache.


And it worked, so far so good.


The very tall and grumpy child was sat down at Family Home Evening.  That night, instead of games and cookies, it was a frank and forthright chat, kind of like Family Inventory. 


It went something along the lines of
"The waking up is going to happen, it's a requirement and a repeat of this morning can never happen again.  However, you do get a say in how you are woken because what we are doing right now is not working for either of us.  What would work for you? What suggestions do you have?  Would you prefer to be called and left for a couple of minutes to gather yourself?  Would you prefer to have the light switched on?  Would you want cheerful music switched on to start you waking up?  You get to think about this for a while and if you have any other suggestions feel free to add them."


Tuesday was fine because the class they attend (Seminary) is held in the evenings on that night to fit in with their youth club afterward.  But then along came the evening and I had to gulp, bite the bullet and approach the subject again.  I was internally pensive.  The child accepted the chat gracefully and just said they'd take themselves to bed a little earlier to try and get a couple of hours in (insomnia is a right kick in the pants), and then did just that.  I was shocked.


Wednesday morning came and all went smoothly, my oh-no-not-again sinking feeling started when the child complained for a moment, but then they stopped themselves. They rested for a couple of minutes and then got up when asked the second time. It was such a relief and I am grateful and happy that for the time being they appear to have taken the counsel on board and tried it out. 


I don't like contention because I am so good at it!  Best avoided at all costs if I'm going to lead the way to a harmonious home.  I am trying my best to be an available and approachable parent, who sets boundaries, is consistent and provides a safe and loving home.  Some days I'm just winging it and occasionally I put the problem out their for those who have been down this road before to offer their advice and counsel - I never ask if I am not ready to listen.  I am glad I took the bite of humble pie to admit there was a problem, and I am grateful to the beautiful women who offered some "you're doing great, hang in there" and "here's what worked for us" input. 


Thank you, Seesters!*




(Seesters is a heartfelt term of endearment I picked up at the Missionary Training Centre in Provo, Utah, from the most inspirational woman in the building, Sister Mary Ellen Edmunds, who is an author too, her books are available on Amazon http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mary-Ellen-Edmunds/e/B001JP4EKC/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1458745521&sr=8-1)

The Downside of Parenting

Kids.
Really, kids will be the end of me.
Perhaps if life were set up so that there were two loving parents in a 1950's experience, that'd be fine.
But kids.
The cooking, cleaning, ferrying around, providing, nurturing and coaching is fine.
It's the blatant defiance that gets on my last nerve.


I was raised to not defy an adult who was in charge of me, with a caveat that they were not exercising unrighteous dominion.  It would never have occurred to me to say no I won't.  I would never have tried to shove a parent off of a bed when they were sat, dressed, waking you for classes and trying to do it nicely.  I would never have yelled at a righteous parent to get out.  This child in question has been raised in love, the child has had anything which needed explaining, explained, they are bright, and they have to this point been compliant and done as they are asked but things are deteriorating.  As well as hurting my kidneys, it hurts my feelings, which I think may even be worse (and I am a tough broad).  I am busting a gut here to give a positive childhood and adolescent experience to my kiddo and they are, on occasion, nasty and I do not like that one little bit.


Now - up wafts the brass band to evoke days of yore - but when I was a kid, I would have got a clip round the ear for that kind of behaviour but those responses are frowned upon nowadays.  I don't have time to worry about somebody's feelings at 0600hrs when we need to leave at 0615hrs for an almost daily commitment, but I make the time.  I don't want to know what their motivation is, how prepared are they for the day, have I loved them enough this week (YES, I have), do they have a consistent bedtime (YES, they do), and I have places to be too so taking two hours nearly out of my morning shows you just how important I think this daily commitment is.


If a 5' 10" adolescent is bordering on violence toward you, how would you manage that situation and still get everyone where they need to be, on time?  Because I am out of ideas which work well first time, and there isn't time for things to work well second or third time because my kidneys cannot take another pummelling. And quite frankly, neither can my feelings.

Tutors: Cheating or Augmented Homework Droids

It's been 30 years since I was in Secondary School, or High School for our friends overseas.  During that time the syllabus changed, and the exam criteria changed and all this bountiful head full of knowledge accrued through study and application is of almost no use whatsoever to my teenager. 


So at the teenagers request and suggestion, we scouted for a good tutor, we have visited him, the teen has taken a class with him and learned more in an hour about interpretation of exam questions - if it's phrased this way, the examiner wants to know what you know about blah blah - than I have been able to do in a couple of years.


Interpretation of questions is something particularly tricky for teens with dyslexia and Asperger's Syndrome and Mears Irlen (where the words wobble on the page).  They have this wealth of knowledge in their mind but knowing how to respond to what is in front of them is difficult.  Their mind goes off in a spiral of what-does-that-say's and what-if's and does-it-mean's and all their study is almost for naught. 


In steps the new tutor, a fully qualified teacher, and I'm excited to see if it is helpful in the long run.  The teen has 1.25 years before the big, scary exams are due so a little diligence now will hopefully help kiddo translate all of that good stuff into written stuff on the page.  I'd rather invest in education than something which would not last as long.

The Queen and the Nursing Home

Someone not too distantly related to me has the urge to do the following one day:


Kidnap the Queen of England, very nicely using biscuits and Corgi Puppies and a white panel van.
Put in her stead a Queen of England impersonator.
For 6 months, the real Queen would be placed in an average nursing home.
The staff would be told that this was their mum, Masie, and she used to be a look-alike and that Masie now thinks she is the Queen but pay no heed, just treat her normally.
For 6 months she would be found sitting in a sun bleached chair, opposite a backgammon board, and occasionally prodded by an assistant in a sky blue tabard asking if she wants a cup of tea or a biscuit.
At the end of the 6 months, the real Queen would be restored to the throne.
We would then see how the elderly are treated from that point forth.


The mirth in the voice of this plan maker is palpable as they squeal
"And she'd be yelling, 'I'm the Queen, don't put my slippers on, get me Phillip on the phone!!!'"


I was amused.

Autism: Hints and tips for positive experiences.

In respecting the privacy of people around me, I am frequently not specific about the origin of a whimsical thought but often the people around me are the source new ideas and ways of thinking.


I am not a big part of the Autism community, I don't have Autism, I am not Autistic in any way, although there are quirky moments that are not too dissimilar to those nearest and dearest to me - the apple never falls far from the tree, eh.


However, I am blessed to frequently be in the company of many people who find their perception of the world to be on what NeuroTypicals (NT's) call "The Autism Spectrum".  I am so frequently in their company that being around NT Kids sometimes is what strikes me as strange, with their quirky NT Ways. (Joke).


For those who may be new to the wonderful world of Autism (particularly HFA in my personal experience), here are a couple of thoughts.


The kids are wonderful, and annoying at times in very typical kid ways, and funny and bright and interested and intriguing and loving and did I mention funny, and smart as anything.  They are a delight.


To watch someone discover the Universe on a timetable with different priorities to you, perhaps in a less linear fashion, and then describe that universe back to you is so enriching and you learn so much about what was only background noise in your life before that point.  A total delight.


Just because you don't initially understand what is important to them or interests them or if they are unable to explain why something has to be that way, don't dismiss it, listen, put yourself in their shoes, try to comprehend, use all of your senses to comprehend.


The kids will be hard on themselves.  Be aware of this.  If they get in trouble at school or elsewhere, find out what happened from their perspective.  If they are having a hard time finding a positive peer group, it will hit them hard too.  Molehills are mountains, be aware, love them, reassure them, explain the NT world to them.  If they are able to receive loving correction, do that too.


Always express happiness in seeing them.  The communication style is often quite literal.  If they don't actively see you being happy to see them, they sometimes will not make the leap that you are happy on the inside.  There is only what there is. 


Listen, listen and listen.


Laugh with them, often just because they are a delight.


Help them develop in ways that match and meet their understanding.  To the toddler who won't put on a jacket because the sun is shining in winter, explain weather patterns and forecasts before the next time you need them to put their coat on.


Make LOTS of time available for nurturing and communication. 


Teach during the good times, the non frazzled times, the happy times.


Ask open ended find out questions.  You will never in a million years guess what it looks like from their perspective, or what their concern really is, so ask and give them time to respond. 


I've noticed that people on the Autism Spectrum have difficulty discerning what other peoples expectation are in the context of conversation (social interaction).  They often cannot guess or judge how much the other person has allocated to the conversation so will cut their answers short to avoid being perceived as annoying when really if you have the interest in hearing, they have a lot to share. 
Its the difference between "how was your day" "Fine", verses "I am interested, tell me about your day..." "Well, so and do did blah blah and then....".


Know that you will devote a large chunk of time, for the rest of your days, explaining and interpreting the NT world for them.  The "but why" doesn't stop at 3 years old.  It is exhausting, try to pace yourself a little if you can.


Keep a gentle heart and a loving countenance as much as possible.  Sometimes you need to change your body language to indicate displeasure, but let your default be gentleness and trust.


Build a relationship of trust.


Raise your game.  There is a strong possibility the kids will be far smarter than you :D


Limitations schmimitations.  You didn't know how far you'd come when you were 3 or 4 or 5 etc, with love and opportunities and gentleness and guidelines and safety and someone to be a voice, there is no knowing how the little ones will blossom.  The children are who they are.  The children will become adults in their own right too. 


It is an amazing, exhausting, sometimes upsetting experience but one with which I am happy to be trusted.


I hope you have a positive experience.

To those who hear what you cannot say.

Today I would like to express gratitude to the people who hear what you are saying even when you cannot get the words out. 
Sometimes they even help you identify the emotion that is proving elusive and just out of grasp.
I get crazy until I can name and label the feeling or the reason for the feeling.  Nothing else matters until that is achieved.
I would like to take a moment to be grateful for the people who recognise the urgency of a situation when I am pathetically unable to articulate the matter.
Have you ever had that experience where heart speaks to heart, where someone just "gets it" and steps up?

Simultaneously while I was having a hard time of it recently, there was also someone near and dear to me who is experiencing a period of struggle.  They needed help, I didn't know how, if I knew what to do to fix the situation I would do that first but found myself in a thousand possible outcomes scenario and it was frightening.  It remains frightening.  There is so much love that the fear of making things more of a struggle was enormous and paralysing.

So I asked good people who I thought might have experience in this particular matter, and they got it and they replied.
Then I asked the service provider to help me identify the root concern and advise how I proceed for maximum effectiveness. When they said "what is it that's happening?" I had no answer, I couldn't find the words to convey the seriousness of the situation.
I have heard folks say in Diary of a Mom blog "if you don't know where to start, start right where you are, in the middle, just start" so I did.
Now, because they listened, there's a plan of action and there is hope for a successful outcome, because they listened and heard what I couldn't say and didn't know how to say.

I love them.
They may never know that they eternally have a place in my heart brimming with love and gratitude and every good wish for their happiness as they traverse through life.
It is a little intense to walk up to them and say "you saved someone's happy outcome and you will never know the magnitude of my thankfulness" so I'll keep that one in my back pocket for a while until I manage to calm down a little.
I am grateful for them taking the time to really hear what needed to be heard when there were no words.
I am grateful for their amazingly insightful and simple ideas which we tried and are proving to be positive.  There are no guarantees and we are at the start of this endeavour so I'll have to get back to you in a few years time to let you know how things pan out but right now it's looking better than before.
I love them.
Thank you just isn't enough.

Single Mum Stuff

I am a mum, a mom, a single mum, I am single mumming it.

I am the adult.

I am the adultiest adult in our house.

If look for an adultier adult, it dawns on me that I need look no further than the person standing in my shoes.

I work for a living outside the home.

It is how I stay sane with adult conversation and company, and how I keep the lights on and the tummies fed.

It is a humble job, it’s long hours, it’s not paid particularly well, but well enough that we have most of what we need and some of what we want.

 

We are doing great, knock on wood, fingers crossed.

Although it is tiring, with a big knock on wood, it is sometimes easy peasy.

 

There are some things I would like to point out at this juncture.

1. It is a happy life.  I wouldn’t trade it for anything mediocre.
2. I am busier than you if you are in a 2 adult family.  I don’t care how hard you work, how poorly you feel, how many kids you have or don’t have, how large the corporation is that you head up as the CEO, how hard it was to broker that Peace Treaty ratified by the UN which brought about world peace, I am busier than you.  There is nobody with whom to share the load. There is nobody to sit beside. There is nobody to be the other half of the Yoke carrying partnership, there is nobody in my home to whom I can sound off or ask impromptu advice, there is nobody else who will start dinner while I finish something off, and there likely will never be again.
3. There is no wiggle time to goof off.  Everything, even the fun times, must have a purpose.  Every car ride is an opportunity to check in with my teen or sing with her to the radio or ensure she is in the right place at the right time to keep the doors of opportunity open to her.  Every dinner at the table is an opportunity to listen to the music she’s listening to, watch the YouTube shows she’s watching, hear about how school was. Every visit with family in another city is to give me a few minutes support and to foster bonds between my teen and them in case anything was ever to happen that I couldn’t be around for a while. Every visit to the park is to foster physical and emotional health.  Every visit to the theatre is to encourage art appreciation and creativity. Every church activity is to help her recognise the things she needs to recognise so that she can forge through life with courage.
4. I have an enormous responsibility to drive safely and get home every evening; it is at the fore of my mind daily.
5. The list of things to do to keep the house and us ticking with a roof, power, water, heat, wi-fi, clean clothes, homework done, the place tidy enough and enough interaction with others that we stay sane is almost endless.  If I sit down, I know there is something else I could or should be doing.
6. If I am leaving my kiddo with someone so I can go to a function, we need to get it done and I need to get home.
7. Friends are cherished.  Good friends are people for whom I would jump through a hoop of fire. Just the one, though!
8. I love hearing your triumphs and problems.  If we can be laughing hard at life, that is a joyful moment for me.
9. I like helping out with your kids if I can fit it in and I'll do all in my power to fit it in.  As a firm believer in “it takes a village to raise a child” I am happy to put in the love and the time to be there for your kids as you have been there for mine. 
10. My resources, physically and financially, are very finite.  They run out quickly.  If I am taking your child to a dance, I appreciate you getting them to a central point if possible and I appreciate a small donation toward the petrol to get them to another city and back because I go without lunch to make these things happen.  If you are going to a dance with your child, I appreciate the occasional offer to provide a lift for my little ‘un and I will donate to your time and resources to help make that happen.  If you are asking for a round robin pick up, I appreciate enough notice so that I can knock off work earlier so that I can make sure my kiddo has had dinner, done homework, so that we can get to your home, pick up your kid, get them to the place they need to be too – remembering that if you live 15 minutes from my house, that adds half an hour to the journey.  If there are two of you adults home, I judge you.
11. There are a few things which pique my interest but nothing about which I am obsessed. I like seeing you folks go nuts over stuff but I just don’t get it.
12. My favourite thing is seeing anything done well.  Anything.  Reversing that truck around a corner first time, kudos.  Erecting scaffolding, I’ll stand and watch.  Thatching a cottage roof, I’ll take a picture. Surfing with panache, style points to the max. Stitching that dress, same. A great presentation to a room full of strangers, hats off to you.  Making food that looks like art, wowzers. Making food that's not burned, I stand in awe.

It’s not a competition, but if it were then I’d no doubt win!

I have all my stuff together (knock on wood – we do a lot of that around here) and I might make this look less hard than it actually is because you become accustomed to your lot in life and knock on wood things are going ok right now.

I actually find life quite absurd and funny.

I’m not asking for help.

I appreciate that your life is taxing too.

We do what we do because it needs to be done.

 

Three things would help.  Don’t tell me you know how I feel because your husband went on a boy’s weekend last year and it was hell, don’t get in the way of me getting back to my family, and if I’m looking worn out don’t tell me I look like hell because chances are I lost precious sleep trying to raise my kiddo or help another person raise their kids too.

 

 

 

 

Routine: Friend or Foe?

Routine. 
Known expectations. 
Drudgery.
Boredom.
Freedom.
Liberty.
Framework.
A starting point.




When everything goes to hell in a handbasket there are a few options open to us. 
We can run around like headless chickens, panicking, knowing not what to to.
Or we can dig in, find ourselves, who we are, what we stand for, and do the next right thing on the list.




This is not limited to the Autism community, of which I am an honorary associated member thanks to family relationships with Awesome people. 


It is a choice we make in a moment of extreme experience.




But to make the choice, we first have to have a plan and if possible, some Allies.


Allies are like non-violent gang members, they've got your back, they remind you who you are until you recognise the person they're describing again, just the very idea that they are there holds you together.


The choices we make, when we are lost in a sea of bleughhhh, could be founded on "what worked before" as an experimental starting point.  Being locked in to responding as you always have is not healthy.  It is stifling. 


Using past success as a potential starting block opens the way for moments of absolute genius and clarity.


Routine bores me to heck and is a comfort blanket at the same time.


If I know what is expected of me as a baseline, I am then free to be open to flashes of inspiration, to enrich the experience beyond expectation, to dig deeper on the tricky days, but by golly the idea of routine just makes my eyes droop.


It leads on to the preparatory question... who am I?


We'll talk about that another day.