Hey! No biting your baby armadillo!

Lest you think F may be too old for pretending to be animals, this was his response to a play bite in the grocery store today.  Later, he looked over my shoulder at a beautiful picture of an immaculately restored old house in Country Living.  Taking in the chandeliers and plank flooring, he sighed "I want to live in that house." 

Yeah me too.

In the meantime, he read me If You Take a Mouse to the Movies tonight with no help.  I hear him reading to himself all the time but hadn't started asking him to read me bedtime stories yet like I did with E when she was a little older than he is now.  It was kind of sad.  We are still reading the Burgess Bird Book most nights.  Tonight he was a bat and we talked a little about bats.  He really wants to be able to fly but still feels like non-mammal species get a raw deal so even though he no longer nurses, he doesn't even want to pretend to be any animal that did not nurse at some point.

This morning he was the prince in his ballet camp's production of The Firebird, which was choreographed and performed wholly by 3-6 year olds.   One of the Mad Fairies looked so gleeful and pleased with her evil deed that I had to side with the villains this time.  F was extremely handsome with his cardboard crown and shield (which he made himself) and three sizes too big prince vest and shirt (lace up and white and silver) and although one of the moms told me she was still trying to convince her daughter (who had come home very pleased with herself about having held F's hand in class that day) that boys have cooties (one of my big pet peeves.  Parents should keep their bizarre fears of child sexuality to themselves or at the very least not teach their children to vilify the opposite sex as a way of quieting those fears.  This is why F has been bullied a couple of times by cootie fearing pink victims in ballet activities.), it was a really nice way to finish up his ballet camp.  I think maybe all ballets should be choreogrpahed by 3-6 year olds.

up way past bedtime but can't stop reading

I found this book for 2.99 at our weird local chain bookstore.  I have really mixed feelings about the books/cds/novelties format but they get bizarrely good clearance closeouts so I guess I should get over the fact that they overprice and have a pretty hit or miss selection of everything else.  And considering that they are the only bookstore in town but not in the mall. . .

Harriet MacBryde Johnson is a name more of us should know.  She was a hero and a wonderful teller of tales.  I am halfway through this book and just can't stop.  I am exhausted, sleep-deprived, and may have to hide it from myself to get some sleep and do other necessary stuff before F's party tomorrow.

She didn't choose to have the most visible disability imaginable, but having been born with it, she definitely made the world a better place for both visibly and invisibly disabled people in America by her passionate demands for enforcement of and compliance with the ADA.  Her annual protests against the Jerry Lewis telethons helped begin the growing movement for self-advocacy and self-representation of people with disabilities.  I am so inspired by her refusal to comply with the archetypal disability narratives and insistence on the need for respect instead of pity.  Exposing the agendas of people who used fear and pity tactics to suit their own ends (fundraising, political legitimacy) is still needed.  It is so sad that she died this year.  We could use a dozen more of her at least.

Currently Listening The Hour of Bewilderbeast By Badly Drawn Boy see related

The Secret Epidemic

What do you call a schoolchild with high average to superior test scores who claims to have worked very hard throughout class but not finished the assignment that even the slower kids in her class finished with time to spare?  What if she stands staring instead of obeying when you ask her to do a simple task?  It is obvious she is ignoring you/daydreaming/dragging her heels right?  What about the sloppiness and carelessness about handwriting, etc?  I mean, she makes incredibly detailed drawings all the time.  She reads adult books after she gets home from elementary school.  She is smart enough to finish stupid little fourth grade worksheets.  She must not be trying.  She must be lazy.  Right? 

I hear a lot about an autism epidemic.  I hear so much about how the rates of diagnosed autism cases have skyrocketed.  I have to wonder: how many adults with autism have been misdiagnosed as lazy, careless, irresponsible, uncooperative, not trying, rebels (!), daydreamers, and Not College Material.  I don't know how many of us there are.

I only know I refuse to ever be made ashamed of "not meeting my potential" again.  I know I am not alone.  I know there was an epidemic of equal proportions in my generation, one after, and every one before.  It was an epidemic of shaming children for doing their best when their best was different from what the adult in charge thought was reasonable.  It wasn't because of mercury or vaccinations or casomorpheins or any other recently accused "toxin."  It wasn't an autoimmune and a whole lot of us managed to make our way in life without "therapy" designed to try to make us act like everyone else.  Our lives may look different from our old peers from school but that doesn't mean they are failures.  If I fail to have what I also do not want, does this make me less than someone who wanted and succeeded in getting it? 

I don't know if being diagnosed as a child instead of as an adult would have made my life happier.  I know some amazingly wonderful parents who work so hard at finding positive therapies and educational methods to make sure that their autistic children meet their actual potential and lead happy lives.  I know that there are now therapies designed to give autistic kids the possibility of seeming normal and I think that as long as they are allowed to be themselves and be proud of themselves the majority of the time, having the tools to seem "normal" could be a very useful thing.  I think a lot of adult autistics who went undiagnosed as children do acquire these skills but probably, like me, they acquire them through painful experiences, trial and error, and without ever realizing there is a reason that these things are so much harder for them.  I know that the positive traits of autism (detail orientation, focus, etc) can lead to professional success if managed well.

I don't think there is an epidemic of autism.  I think if anything there is an epidemic of figuring out that autism exists.  If this leads to a greater acceptance of people like me, that is great.  If it leads to more patience in dealing with people whose abilities are different, it is beyond great.  If it leads to valuing the contributions, both potential and realized, of people who work and think differently from the other 149 of 150, that is super fantastically great. 

If it leads to a lot of kids being shamed, hurt, and possibly killed by quack treatments like chelation, restraints, and parents who stopped seeing them as worthwhile human beings the day they got the diagnosis, that is heartbreaking. 

There aren't more of us now.  It's just that you have figured out we are here.  Let's use this moment of insight to help everyone work together and appreciate each other.  As many adults need support, understanding, and assistive services for this as children need support, understanding, and meaningful educational opportunities.    There will surely be some other epidemic soon that will take the place of this one.  I hope our moment of infamy/awareness leads to something good.

Currently Reading The Burgess Bird Book for Children (Dover Science Books) By Thornton W. Burgess see related

bedtime story

back in business, so to speak

It looks like we are back up to our old tricks, i.e. homeschooling.