{Different Isn’t Wrong} to: I Wish I Didn’t Have Asperger’s, #AutismPositivity2012

I’ve been trying to write this post for a few days, but I keep getting overwhelmed.  And upset.  And royally pissed off (at society).  And go off on ranty tangents that totally take away from what I really am trying to get at.  So I’m just going to dive in.

You are not your Asperger’s.  You are not your autism or ADD/ADHD or bipolar or sexuality or weight or race or income level or car you drive.  You are you, which is more than just a word or symbol.  You are the beautiful unique snowflake, and this is more than okay: it is the gift of life.

Do not wish yourself away, because different isn’t wrong.  It is not bad or sad or deplorable or unrespectable.  Although sometimes it may feel the opposite, there is no cookie cutter mold of who to be.  The days of The Stepford Wives and “keeping up with the Jones’” are long gone.  There may be some people who try to hold on to this idea, uncomfortable with their own differences and in turn try to put others down, but do not listen to these few among the billions of people on the planet. 

Picasso was different.  So was Frida Kahlo, William Shakespeare, Lady Gaga, Adam Levine, Mozart, Albert Einstein, Dr. Seuss, Ke$ha, Jim Henson, among hundreds of others who have made history in all sorts of aspects of life.  And it was their differentness, their uniqueness, that made history.  Some even had Asperger’s or were suspected to be on the autism spectrum.  And they were/are amazing, far from boring, far from “normal” (whatever the heck that is), anything but ordinary.

Just like you.

Remember that, and hold that in you always. 

The Sleep Issues (How am I Not Bald?)

I have to admit, I hate bedtime.  I dread nightfall with every fiber of my being.  (This is probably payback for when I had a snarky reply to my ex’s “Kids mean you never sleep again!” comment/argument against having children.  Fucking karma, you’re a bitch.)  Bedtime is obviously inevitable and sadly the extreme issues come in waves.  Right now, we’re smack dab in the middle of the WORST WAVE EVER. 
8pm rolls around and Rizzle, the youngest, is fairly ready for bed.  After a couple of stories and fluffy mama snuggles, she puts herself to sleep (typically with no protest) with her dolly and musical seahorse.  Nice, right?  Well, it’s all downhill from here.
Px, the terrible two-er, is visibly tired.  He woke up from his nap 6 hours ago.  We’ve done sensory activities throughout the day.  He’s in his squeezy/pressure vest and has been for half an hour.  But he’s two, and stubborn, and probably on the spectrum, so he stims.  He runs back and forth a thousand times, or digs a car out from under the couch (the ONE FUCKING TOY WE MISS), or plays throw the lovey across the room.  Every time he begins to relax, his eyes all heavy and sleep seconds away, he launches himself off the couch and into a stim.  Daddy and I are frazzled (hah.  understatement of the year.) by 10pm, sometimes 10:30pm, when he finally lets sleep come.
If we’re lucky(!), Rizzle stays asleep until 11pm.  But then, it’s 1-2hours (maybe more!) of pure insanity.  She wants bottles, and Tylenol, and her coveted fluffy mommy pillow.  No, Daddy will not do even momentarily so mommy can take 30 seconds to pee.  Don’t try laying me down without proper cuddling or I will SCREAM and SCREECH for-ev-er.  And definitely wake up my brother.
By this 1am time, my sciatica is flaring up.  My entire left leg is in throbbing pain, I feel hungry, and wind up awake for another hour or so.  But we best not breathe the wrong way or Rizzle will wake aaaaaagain.  For who the hell knows how long.  And occasionally wake Px, who will then be up for an hour.
What time is it now?  Oh hell, it’s probably best not knowing considering they will be up by 6am. So it’s best to just roll over, curl up, and dream of sleeping for longer than a minute at a time.
I think I may be permanently a sleep-deprived zombie now; cross in front of me and I will eat your braaaainz!  Mine is long gone so I need whatever I can get, with a side of coffee.  May no one ever make the “Oh she’s still not sleeping through the night?  She should be sleeping through the night BY NOW” comment to me ever again, I cannot be held responsible for my reaction.  I am a zombie now, after all.

I Just Wanna Meme, with Ryan Gosling!

It’s Friday.  I should be blogging about more serious matters, like sensory seeking squirrels or Pez dispensers as lightsabers, but it’s Friday dammit.  And Rizzle enjoys sitting in my lap, waving at people pictures, and occasionally calling Ryan Gosling “dada”.  Keep dreaming, gurrrl.
Plus, I am so deep into sensory diets and hyposensitivity versus hypersensitivity that I’ve just hit sensory processing disorder overload.  The gears in my head have exploded.
And I’ve got to bake for Rizzle’s little party this weekend, and I’m not even close to getting that started.  If I can make an Elmo head in 2 hours, I’m forcing Cake Boss to give me his business.  Or, at least a job.
So anyway, Ryan is taking over my blog today before it becomes diary of a mad chocoholic mom with sprinkles of insanity.
And Wednesday was my girl’s actual first birthday, so Ryan has a special message for her, too.  Dreamboat!!

Awww!  Such a sweetie.

Jack Johnson, eat your heart out.

Best news ever!  I really had no desire to get out of my PJs today, Ry.  It’s rainy here.

I’ll get some coffee brewing, that kid could be out there ALL. DAY.

Linking up down thurr.  :)

Say What? Say Yay!

Good things all around the Heck house this week thusfar.
1) I got a nice surprise when I logged into Google Reader this morning and I saw I was featured over at Polish the Stars!  My toddler pillow!  I’ve never been featured anywhere.  I feel like I did the first (and only) time I’ve ever actually won anything.  Go me!  *toot toot* my little special horn!
2) PX has gained a new word- happy.  Or, in specialspeak, hauhpeeeeeeeeee.  I think my heart stopped the first time. 
3) Rizzle has decided to wave her white flag and hold her own damn bottle 90% of the time!  Success!  She’s only turning one tomorrow, yaknow. 

Yeah that’s right girl, you’re gonna be ONE!!!

4) Speaking of tomorrow, we FINALLY get our first OT visit tomorrow.  With most likely a full sensory profile on PX, so we can figure out his sensory diet and start drafting up his more structured, ABA-based home therapy visits.  If the trial run last week is any indication of how the first few sessions will go, I’m SOSing for wine.  Actually, fuck the wine and just send tequila.  Bottles.  Jugs.  A stubborn toddler with sensory hyposensitivity who’s most likely on the spectrum?  Yeah.  Send me a damn tugboat of tequila.  Captained by Ryan Gosling, of course. 
5) This fatass is 12lbs lighter!  Thanks body for finally recognizing I’m not pregnant any more!!  *toot toot* my special horn again!

Matted Monday #4

In honor of the fact for once my locale is NOT getting the random freak snow, one of my favorite snowy shots from our 2nd and last snowstorm of the season on March 1st.