Who will get it next? It was surprising for Mark to get sick before the children—or at all, his immune system is usually robust. What was even more surprising was to see Alex jumping around, happy and excited, ready for his day of school this morning. He’s usually the first to get sick, partly because his immune system (used to be) fairly weak and partly because he’s the one most likely (I can attest to this) to get in the face of the sick person in the house. Unfortunately, he’s also the one with a dental appointment on Thursday, so I’m really hoping he doesn’t get it.

So, last week was crazy and then we got sick. Fun, fun. Hopefully the rest of this week is smooth sailing, but I wouldn’t place any bets on it.

Enjoy the last of the summer--if you've got any left.

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions.  Relying on the New Year to reinforce commitments indicates to me that one’s commitment isn’t strong enough to face up to the challenges progress requires. 

Instead, I believe in goals.  Goals can be made during any point of the year.  I make goals, change them, and adapt them throughout the year.  And I work towards them.  I succeed.  I fail.  I grow.  I change.  I progress.  And I strive to improve.

Yet, despite my lack of belief in New Year’s resolutions, the change in year marks one of those times I re-evaluate my progress.  It’s not the only time, but it’s a pivotal time, because the New Year is potentially inspirational.  It’s a new start—one that relies solely on our perception, but a new start nonetheless.

One goal I have had is to write a nonfiction book tentatively entitled Neurodiversity at Work: A Manager’s Guide.  The purpose of this book is to prepare contemporary managers to cope with and capitalize on their neurologically diverse workforce.  Simply put, managers aren’t trained for this.  And I want to give managers a tool to improve their skills and awareness in this area.

Yet, I haven’t made much progress with this goal.  That’s got to change.  The New Year, with its fresh slate, is a good time to commit to that change.

So, I commit to you, my lovely readers, that I will post one book-specific post per month.  I commit to myself to follow up this book-specific post with book-specific work, related directly to completing the proposal for this book (a precursor to writing the book).

Another goal I have isn’t very well formulated.  I want to help my children grow and develop, but unlike many of my fellow parents of autistic kids, I usually don’t plan this.  Sure, there are IEPs and therapy goals.  There are even medical goals.  And while I contribute to the planning process and strive to achieve those goals, they are neither personal nor familial.  These commitments aren’t made from parent to child.

So, I also commit to you, my lovely readers, that I will post one progress report on each of my children each month.  I commit to myself to plan the kind of progress I want to work towards in that regard.  And I commit to my children to make my plans and my efforts wholly respectful, honoring the people they are and not simply enforcing “shoulds” and “coulds” on my children.

Now, I’d like to ask you:  Goals or resolutions?  What are yours?

Soon, Ben will be transitioning from the intensive to the post-intensive stage of Wisconsin’s autism waiver, which means more flexibility but fewer hours of therapy.  Willy is going to middle school, which is a point of anxiety and excitement.  Alex is still struggling with bouts of aggression, but has been much happier this summer.  There’s been considerable excitement, loudness, and activity all around.

Recently, my brother, my uncle, and their friend—along with a lot of local helpers—implemented a landscaping plan to address the leak in the basement.  Unfortunately, the only rain we’ve had since then was a big gusher—four and a half inches of rain in an hour and a half, but it rained for much longer than that—and it did not give us a clear idea of whether or not our efforts were successful.  The cleanup work is still not done, but I’m doing a little at a time.  The important thing is the system is in place and should work during a normal rainfall.  But, there is still a lot of rock and dirt to move.

Despite all the activity and all the good things that are going on, I have been struggling with depression.  Perhaps it would be more accurate to say “because of all the activity and all the good things that are going on, I’m struggling with depression.”  Each day there is more to do than I can possibly get done and I’ve tried for too long to do it all anyway.  Working on the landscape project was unavoidable—it’s my house and there wasn’t as much labor as we needed—but after that I let myself crash.  But I predicted that, so it’s all good.

I guess the point is that I’m back, but I’m still tired and still trying to get back to a manageable schedule.  But my to-do list is still over-full.  Hopefully I don’t work myself to a crash again this year, but that’s the risk of being me.

I have one more week to complete my business plan (as well as the work from my other class), and then I'll be back online.  I'll also be finished with my bachelor's degree!  Well, everything but the ceremony.

I anticipate getting a real post up on Wednesday, April 21.  See you then!

 “I love you,” I said, sincerely but also distractedly.

“Yeah, but sometimes I wonder why,” my husband responded.

I stopped in my tracks.  Distractions…gone.  Words…gone.  Thoughts…gone.  Seconds passed and the only thing in my conscious mind was a fleeting thought to count in anticipation of a response, something I do with my boys when there is an apparent delay in processing.  But this time the delay was my own.

A response surfaced, along with a tragic sense of…something.  The response was completely inadequate yet completely true: “If you don’t know, I can’t explain.”

In twelve days Mark and I will celebrate our twelfth wedding anniversary.  We’ve had our ups and downs, our yelling matches, our rough patches, and our breaking points.  We’ve survived them all.  Yet, depression and the words of others eat away at us.

These moments come and I’m never prepared for them.  I can no more put into words why I love Mark than I can put into words why I love my children or anyone else.  Love doesn’t have a why.  Love goes deeper than all the whys we’ve ever put into words.  I can tell you why I like Mark, and even why I sometimes don’t like Mark.  I cannot tell you why I love him.  I just do.  I always will.

The tragic sense of…something lingers.  Again, there are no words for this.  Loss, sorrow, and regret…these words are part of it, but they’re as inadequate as my response.  I mourn for that part of him that is lost in the depression, where the light my love shines cannot reach.  I regret the busyness that keeps me moving and going and trying, working towards a dream that seems both too big to accomplish and too necessary to fail to accomplish.

Somehow I have to express to him (and others who find room for doubt) the why for something that has no why.  Perhaps this will be enough:

This morning, as Alex was just getting his morning started he slipped a DVD too far down his finger and it got stuck and started to swell.  I tried to get it off, but it would not budge.  I buttered it, but it would not budge.  I tried to break the DVD, but it would not break.  Mark was sleeping, so I lead Alex—who was fussing about the pain in his finger and wasn’t I going to fix it, now please!—upstairs and woke Mark up with a hasty plea and he removed the DVD without hurting either Alex or the DVD.

It seems little all by itself.  But there are many strings of little things over these last twelve years.  All together they prove to me, if only to me, that we complement each other.  We fit.  We are two “wholes” that make a better “whole” (versus two “halves” that make a “whole,” which is a phrase that I feel inaccurately describes people).  Our relationship isn’t perfect.  Our lives aren’t perfect.  We’re not perfect.  But we’re the perfect “wholes” for each other.  We enrich and complete each other.  All the struggles, the complications, the disagreements, the deficits, and the inadequacies mean nothing compared to this.

Together we are whole and the little things prove it so.

First, I took a quiz from PsychCentral:

They call theirs an Autism/Asperger’s Screening Quiz.  I scored 33.  They say if you score 34 or more autism is likely.  If you score between 30 and 33 autism is possible (which is where I fit in according to this quiz).  If you score 29 or less, no autism.

This puts me at the cusp of the criteria, however I found their questions to be rather stereotypical than definitive.  It makes it rather difficult to feel confident about the results.  Particularly, I find this passage to be bothersome:  “Based upon your responses to this autism screening measure, it appears that you may be suffering from an autism spectrum disorder, or Asperger’s disorder. People who score similarly often qualify for a diagnosis of autism or Asperger’s,” (emphasis added).  No test of this nature can indicate whether one is suffering or merely experiencing.  This presumption betrays a bias that I find rather untrustworthy.

Next, I took an Aspie Quiz on RDOS.net:

This site kindly provided HTML code, so I can share the results.

The summary is as follows:

Your Aspie score: 146 of 200
Your neurotypical (non-autistic) score: 58 of 200
You are very likely an Aspie
Your MBTI type: INTJ

Next, I went to a site I’m unfamiliar with that offers what it calls an ASC-Plot:

They also kindly offer HTML code, so there’s a visual.

And here’s the summary:

0 indicates no autistic component, 10 indicates a strong autistic component. The components of this plot are outlined below:

• Repetitive or restricted Behaviours and Interests (RBI) - Stereotyped, repetitive behaviours and interests
• Social Impairment (SI) - Social understanding
• Language problems (L) - Speech, words and sentences
• Planning, Organization and Concentration problems (POC) - Cognitive skills related to being able to plan, organise and stay focused
• Imaging and Recall problems (IR) - Visualisation, imagination and remembering past events
• Reasoning and Problem solving problems (RP) - Cognitive skills related to rational deduction and working things out
• Sensory problems (S) - Impact of senses
• Motor problems (M) - Control of own movement

And my scores are:

• RBI =7
• SI=8.25
• L=3.75
• POC=7
• IR=8.25
• RP=4.5
• S=7.5
• M=4.25

I think I can say with confidence that I’m not neurotypical, but I knew that.  This didn’t make me want to go out and get a diagnosis though.  Not because I’m convinced I’m not an Aspie, but because there are so many barriers to a diagnosis I’m not sure it’s worth the energy.