Autism Watch: 2007

Posts Tagged ‘work

Two weeks ago, I took my son in for his yearly well-child checkup. (I still want to keep referring to it as a well-baby check-up. I am in denial that he’s now ten.) I got the dreaded news that he failed his eye test. Actually, I figured it out as he was attempting to guess what letters he was seeing and my jaw kept dropping further and further as I saw how bad it was. How did I not notice this sooner?

Fast forward to yesterday, when we went to pick up his glasses. He’s so.darn.cute. He chose his own glasses, and I was super-thankful he chose a pair that was not far out of the range of what our eye insurance covered. (Does it ever really cover frames 100%? Everywhere we go, the frames are always priced outside of what the insurance coverage is.) For his first pair, I didn’t want to break the bank in case he broke the frames. It’s a habit to get into, being careful with them, removing them when you need to, remembering where you put them, and putting them in the case. Cleaning, all that stuff. I was concerned but he has, like he usually does with challenges, risen to the occasion. He loves his glasses, says life is now in HD, and is thrilled that he can see nature so clearly. That’s my barnacle boy.

I took a business trip this week, and was away for two days. I missed him all the time, but let’s face it, a break is a good thing at times, for all moms and all kids. (And if you say it’s not…I think you’re not being honest or you’ve never had a break and relished the uninterrupted time to ponder the little things in life that slide by in the rush that is parenting. Trust me on this, as a mom of four, time away is good for you AND for them.) I shared photos on my FB page, and was glad when one inspired a friend of many years ago to respond because I’d traveled to a place she’s always wanted to go.

I didn’t know it, but my friend works online now and is enjoying being able to work at home as opposed to heading to an office each day. For years, she tells me now, she didn’t realize that working from home was/is a job like any other, with supervisors to report to, accountability, and deadlines. Now though? She gets it in spades. She was a journalist for a local paper when I met her, and now manages a small staff of writers for an online publication, and while she loves it, she’s found she’s struggling with parts of it as she adapts. She had to miss a child’s performance. Having to say “Not now, I’m working” makes her feel selfish. Then she was asked to release a writer, and it was her first time. I virtually held her hand as she dealt with the guilt and the fallout in the last three days, and felt for her. Been there, done that, and it’s awful. Of course, the writer was unhappy and blamed her, though like in any company, my friend didn’t make this decision on her own and was just the messenger. It’s not a fun place to be, because she can’t really do anything about it nor say anything as she is contractually obligated to direct them as she’s been told to direct them, and to zip her lip otherwise — she of course can’t even tell me details — and she’s still talking about how she hates to be the bad guy. I felt her pain, because when you aren’t seen in person, it’s easy to be misunderstood when in reality, you’re doing your job, even the hard parts no one likes. It’s something learned in our years dealing with autism. I may not like what I hear in an IEP or from a teacher, but people are usually doing what they’re told so getting ticked at them, and then holding onto that anger and bitterness takes away energy from focusing on your child; I tried to remind her of this while giving her the much-needed hug, so she hopefully was able to take it for what it was, understand the writer’s feelings, right or wrong, and move on while hoping the writer did too. (If you’re wondering how that ended up, the writer blasted her on FB and now wonders why she’s having a hard time getting another gig. It’s sad all the way around. So much negativity, sort of like in high school when someone steals your boyfriend and you vow to never talk to them again, and you tell others bad stuff about them, true or not, and then you grow up and realize that life’s not all black and white and maybe you weren’t a good girlfriend anyway.)

I think we’ve been able to upgrade our friendship based on a new shared thing in our lives: working from home while managing an autistic child. See, she too has an autistic son, and while he’s a couple of years younger than BB, we met when our kids were in a social event but had little else in common. Now we can support each other through not only autism-related issues, but the different world that you live in when you work at home full-time and don’t have the same type of day-to-day life you do when you’re in an office and I don’t have any other physically-close friends who work at home. We wouldn’t have met without the autism connection, and while I’m sure both of us would rather not have that, the reality is that we do and because of it, we’ve been able to make new friendships that add so much more to our lives in other ways. It hasn’t been long since we reconnected, but I think it’s going to be a lifelong relationship. Life works in mysterious ways.

Autism may not feel like it initially, or even years later, but it’s expanded my eyesight. I see much more than I used to. My life is expanded, not limited. I lost friends during the early years of diagnosis, but I have gained many more as time goes on. My son’s eyesight is expanding now too, and we all see clearer.

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I just realized I didn’t share this with you, this gem, this dentastic visit to the dentist for a filling. It’s an epic story, from start to finish.

Start: I pick him up from school, he’s on a tear and starts to cry within seconds because the teacher reprimanded for something that she’d seen while outside of school on a weekend. (I am biting my tongue from sharing my feelings on that, it would take a whole new blog entry.) I promise him we’ll handle it, put on a calm face and secretly think that this may have seriously messed up our dental appointment.

We make the 25-minute drive in pouring rain, with BB talking to Dad on the phone about the injustices of his day. Dad agrees with me that we need to fix it, but top priority was relaxing him to get through the dentist appointment. Ha. I’ll get right on that.

He gets in the chair. Whew, we’re psyched up and ready to go. Oops, 9-year-old girl across the hallway had a meltdown and had to leave — now she’s back and they are going to finish her work. Dentist leaves our room, chair comes back up straight and out comes the DSi XL to keep him busy. Ten minutes later, dentist is back. BB is nervous. I’ll spare the details, but the dentist’s hand got novocained. It was bitten. The mechanical tray over BB’s lap went flying. BB had to be caught before he fell out of the chair onto the floor. Five of us were in the room. Door was shut. Door was opened. Dentist tried three times before he admitted defeat. I was sent on my merry way with a puffy-faced, red-eyed child apologizing profusely for not being able to stay still in the chair due to having a bad day at school. I did the same, while wondering if indeed we could return. Would their patience be any better next time? Did they really want him to return? Would the dentist wear leather gloves??

Finish: It.was.a.disaster. Dad seems to think he can get him to go back to the same dentist and try once again. Hmmph. I’m not going again. I think we need to try a special needs dentist about an hour away. We’re undecided right now, but we will be making a decision by Monday — the filling has to be done soon, but we have a few days to be sure we don’t put him through anything else unnecessarily.

Special needs dentists are a rare breed, and if you are one, kudos. I’ll try to warn you if my son bites, but I imagine it won’t be your first time. Or at least I hope. I’ve had enough of being the unique situation.


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