Tag Archives: Blog

Question?: Asperger Syndrome In Adults

Laura asks…

Which social networking site is right for me?

My profile will be public as the theme will be about my life with Asperger Syndrome. I will want to share my You Tube videos and blog as well as share photos. It will basically be an activism account. The audience will be adults w/autism/Asperger‘s.

admin answers:

I guess myspace. Facebook is kind of too private for that ,but you could always create a facebook group…

Good Luck!

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Legal Guardian Yet?

Hi, This is Bob the guy that runs this blog.
If you have an autistic child, It is my opinion that you should go and get yourself made the legal Guardian.
You will have to have a lawyer. You can probably get one appointed.
You have to file at the local Probate Court – Mental Division
Bring your doctors paperwork. Get the details from your lawyer.
The reason I am writing this right now is because the best Guardianship to get is Plenary Guardian.
I recently found out that courts are resisting giving out the Plenary type.
I have found it worth the extra effort to get the Plenary type because it means that your word is it.
No one else can interfere with your decisions. Believe me there are plenty of people out there to do that.
Bob

Question?: Autism Symptoms In 6 Year Old

Mark asks…

Can psychotic bipolar develop into schizoaffective?

If you already have bipolar 1 with psychosis and it’s getting worse, can it develop into schizoaffective later on?

admin answers:

This is where it can get confusing. In order to be diagnosed as schizo-affective, your psychosis must last 6 months or longer. There is a different than just being Bipolar I and becoming psychotic when you’re manic as that does happen but it’s usually short lived. True psychosis can last for hours up until months or years. Every person is different. It can develop and usually it does but that’s usually with children with early onset because the older they get, the worse the psychosis gets.

Please feel free to check out my website below. It has a forum board, a blog about the journey I take with my 5 year old son who is diagnosed as Bipolar I with psychotic features and autism, symptoms list, and resources. Or you can just follow us on FB: www.facebook.com/lwamikids

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1,871 Posts

This blog has 1,871 Posts going back several years. You probably noticed the 404 error report coming up when you tried to access the front or home page. The smart people probably figured out that if you scrolled down a bit the blog started up just a little lower.

I noticed this a long time ago, but this blog is important to me. We were hit by some hacker a while back and that error notice is what came up after that. I have enough work on my regular web pages, but these blogs are something else. This happened to other blogs too. The hosting company told me at first there was nothing to be done. So I said “Forget that”. So I figured someone would eventually get the answer. About a month ago I called again. Still nothing but I will have to erase the whole thing and start over. I thought my database of articles would be ok but I tried it out on one of my other blogs on quick weight loss. That starting up after starting over erased everything or lost everything. No way was I going to gamble on 1,871 autism posts getting lost. So now a month later I finally got someone over there that figured out what to do without losing all the posts. It seems fixed to me. Thanks for your patience. Bob bob McGuire

The Lazy Woman’s Way to Blog

This whole going to bed near 10 pm is killing my blog. I write at midnight. It’s what I do. HOW DO YOU PEOPLE WRITE DURING THE DAY? IN THE LIGHT? WITHOUT WATCHING RERUNS OF TORCHWOOD ON NETFLIX?

Or that might be specific to me.

It is 9:24pm  and I am TIRED. This never used to happen to me. Fuck you, regular sleep schedule.

That said, I’ve only blogged…oh, dear lord, once? this week, so I found some more funny stuff from my kids to entertain you.

This first is a drawing by Jack from last year. I am under the impression that he thought school was hard work. Seriously. That little sketch (it is about an inch square) conveys more feeling than a billion words.

I should take this to IEP meetings.

Then there is Sam. At back to school night, I took a quick spin through his math classroom. On one wall, all the kids had written and illustrated rules. This was Sam’s:

This is a kid who needs to go on a bender.

Speaking of responsible people, next up I have Quinn’s definition and illustration of “responsible,” which is nothing like Sam. In fact, he took it in more of a “I was responsible for killing 16 people” kind of way instead of “I am responsible because I do my homework” kind of way.

“Some guy almost got squashed.”

I’m guessing that Quinn is the guy who is all, “Oops.”

Aaaand there you have volume two of “I’m going to let my kids blog for me this month.”

*****

Also, are your kids the worst? Because mine are. I have laid out eleven reasons why they are.

View the original article here

The Lazy Woman’s Way to Blog

This whole going to bed near 10 pm is killing my blog. I write at midnight. It’s what I do. HOW DO YOU PEOPLE WRITE DURING THE DAY? IN THE LIGHT? WITHOUT WATCHING RERUNS OF TORCHWOOD ON NETFLIX?

Or that might be specific to me.

It is 9:24pm  and I am TIRED. This never used to happen to me. Fuck you, regular sleep schedule.

That said, I’ve only blogged…oh, dear lord, once? this week, so I found some more funny stuff from my kids to entertain you.

This first is a drawing by Jack from last year. I am under the impression that he thought school was hard work. Seriously. That little sketch (it is about an inch square) conveys more feeling than a billion words.

I should take this to IEP meetings.
Then there is Sam. At back to school night, I took a quick spin through his math classroom. On one wall, all the kids had written and illustrated rules. This was Sam’s: This is a kid who needs to go on a bender.
Speaking of responsible people, next up I have Quinn’s definition and illustration of “responsible,” which is nothing like Sam. In fact, he took it in more of a “I was responsible for killing 16 people” kind of way instead of “I am responsible because I do my homework” kind of way. “Some guy almost got squashed.”
I’m guessing that Quinn is the guy who is all, “Oops.”

Aaaand there you have volume two of “I’m going to let my kids blog for me this month.”

*****

Also, are your kids the worst? Because mine are. I have laid out eleven reasons why they are.

View the original article here

i promise

~

Yesterday I said the following.

I have a post brewing, my friends. A big one. A really sort of terrifying one. One that – as desperately as I want to write it THISVERYSECOND – demands, and deserves, far more than the eight minutes that I have right now to write it. So it will have to continue to simmer just below the surface for one more day.

I wrote it yesterday. And it was big. It — is — big. In fact, it is too big for Diary. So I sent it off to the Huffington Post.

It was — is — so big that I am at once relieved and terrified that it is now out of my hands.

It was –is– so big that I had to call my parents to tell them what it contains.

I told them both that I thought it best if they not read it. My mom said she had to. I get that. I would too.

But my dad agreed. He wouldn’t. Because he simply couldn’t.

I did what I could to convince him that he didn’t let me down. I promise you didn’t, Daddy. I really, truly promise.

I listened to his voice break as I explained why now – why twenty-three years later. “For your babies, Jessie,” he said. “Talk to them. Katie will read it someday. She’ll need forewarning. But more than that, she’ll need to know the lessons. She’ll need to know …” His voice broke again before he found the words.

I promised I would. I will.

“And Brooke too. I don’t know if she’ll read your blog someday too, Jessie, but she needs to know too. You’ll have to teach her differently, but she needs to know too.”

“Please God,” he said, “let them learn from you and not by experience.”

I promise, Dad. I will do everything I can to teach them both. I promise.

The post took me twenty-three years to write.

It’s time.

*

Ed note: This is not meant to be a cliffhanger, but unfortunately the post has not been published yet. It should hit HuffPost today. If you’d like to receive notification as soon as it’s up, please click HERE and then follow me by clicking on any of the buttons next to my name.

** Update: The post is now up on HuffPost. please click HERE to read it. Thank you for your patience. **

Luna

View the original article here

Coming Out Autistic

So I am at BlogHer. And it is crazy and wonderful and overwhelming and fun and some of my favorite people are here and I have a lot to say about it and photos to post, but I have something rumbling around that I have to get out.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my own autism at this conference. Partly because of my social and sensory issues, but also because autism is so central to what I write about.

When people meet you at BlogHer, they ask what you write about. I usually say, “I write a humor blog about autism and rodents,” partly because it’s true and partly because it’s funny to see people try to digest that information. I usually follow up with, “I have a son with autism.”

This year, however, when I’ve said that, it has felt less honest. This is because although I still identify most strongly as an autism parent, the truth is that I have Asperger’s and that is an important part of me. As I understand this new lens more and adjust to this new part of my identity, that identification will probably become more important to me.

Not mentioning it when it is pertinent seems dishonest and as if I am hiding a part of myself. Which I don’t want to do, both for me and as an example for Jack. I always say that my goal for Jack is to raise a proud, happy, autistic man and he can decide on the rest.

But I can’t expect him to be proud and open and full of love for every part of himself if I can’t lead by example and do the same. And part of that is being out.

I am out as having Asperger’s. I have disclosed that information here. But there is a big difference between writing about being autistic online and actually saying the words out loud to people in real life and accepting the judgments, stigma, and assumptions that might follow.

And, yes, a lot of the people who live in my computer also exist in my day-to-day real life world, but other than four or five people that I am closest to, I hadn’t yet said to someone’s face, “I am autistic.”

Yesterday I went to a BlogHer panel by Deb on the Rocks, Mocha Momma, and Faiqa who talked about the intersection of identity and issues in blogging, in their cases, largely gay, race, political, and Muslim issues. As they spoke of closets and responsibility and power, I thought about the way I feel about the autistic rights movement and how I see it as a civil rights issue and it all felt so parallel to what they were saying.

Then Deb said something along the lines of (and dear lord, I hope I’m not misrepresenting her), if there is an impulse to be closeted, we need to examine why that impulse is there.

Right?

I understand why some people would choose to not disclose their autism, but I think that if I can be out about it, if I can disclose it, don’t I have a responsibility to do so? On a micro scale for Jack and for me; on a macro scale, for all autistic people that fear identification?

I’m still figuring all this out. This is why I wrote about my diagnosis and haven’t touched it since. It’s a big identity change/addition/modification/retooling. Please bear with me over the coming months.

What I’m trying to say is that I feel as if not saying, “My son and I have autism,” when I am explaining why I write about autism feels disingenuous. Yes, I still own my status as an autism mom and I own it fucking proudly, but now there is more to it.

So this weekend, I started to tell people in person. I started to come out of the neurotypical closet (Or is it an autistic closet? I told you that I’m new at this.) And you know what? It didn’t hurt at all. Some people made the small talky comments that means they don’t much care, some people glossed over it, some people wanted to know more, and at least one person told me she is an Aspie too. Also, when I kinda freaked out over this sample of the core of a gel mattress, the lady at that Expo booth kind of gave me a weird look and then walked away from me.

(Also, one person congratulated me, which is, without a doubt, my favorite response to my diagnosis and has come almost solely from autistic people.)

It feels strange on my tongue to say it, but it will become more natural. And I know that all the feedback I get won’t be good, but at least it will be honest on my part.

So. If you see me walking around the world?


This is me. I write a humor blog about autism and rodents because I like to laugh, my son and I are autistic, and rodents are goddamn funny.

View the original article here

see thee more clearly

~

I had to walk away from Huff Po yesterday. Despite many thoughtful, sensitive comments, there were some others which were anything but. The irony of leaving judgmental, vitriolic comments about other parents on a post that begs someone to stop making judgmental, vitriolic comments about other parents appears to be lost on those who just have to throw that one last rock.

It’s not my blog. I can’t police it. But I’m sick that it’s become a forum for even more anger and even more judgment and even more division.

The other day I wrote the following:

PLEASE respect each other and all of our different perspectives in the comments here. To be clear, the only thing that I take issue with in Jenny’s comments from Autism One (as you will see when the Huff Po post is up), is that she is discrediting the choices that other moms make. I refuse to do the same by discrediting HER choices for her son. Please, please – let’s not reinforce the division in this community by reacting to stone throwing by picking up rocks of our own. Thank you. xo

This morning I added this:

Guys, PLEASE do not use this as a forum to attack Jenny or biomed or for god’s sake, each other.

Please read the Huff Po post. Its whole point is that none of us has the right to judge another person’s choices. That goes for Jenny. That goes for me. That goes for all of us.

Please. when we start swinging a bat, we stop talking. When we stop talking, our kids are the ones who suffer for it.

I don’t know what else there is to do.

Last night in the car, my Katie was telling me that she has a really hard time understanding why the girl who targeted her in school this year seemed to get her kicks out of hurting other people. “I don’t get it, Mama,” she said. “I just don’t get it.”

I told her that she didn’t need to get it. That there are people in the world who do things that none of us can ever understand. I made it extreme to make a point. “Honey, there are people in this world who are incomprehensibly evil. There are people who murder other people. It simply doesn’t make sense.”

“But Mama,” she wailed, “that’s just it. It doesn’t make sense! I don’t understand why people need to hurt each other. Why there are murderers and why there’s war and even why there’s kids who somehow feel better when they make someone else feel bad. It doesn’t make sense!”

She was so upset. I love that she sees the world the way that she does. And I hate that she sees the world the way that she does.

“Baby,” I said, “I get it. I really do. I understand the frustration. But you have a choice in how you’re going to handle it. You can spend your time and your precious energy thinking about people like that girl or, you can use your incredible heart and that scary smart brain of yours to figure out how to make the world better. And I gotta be honest with you, kiddo, using your energy thinking about those people is making really, really stupid use of it.”

I was on a roll.

“Do something positive with that energy,” I told her. “Spend the summer figuring out what it is that you can do to make this world better. Pick something. Work on it. Devote yourself to it. Lead by example. Let people see how good it feels to do something positive – to help another human being. That’s my advice,” I said. “DO something.”

I wish I could share the rest of the conversation, but I feel like it needs to stay right where it is. Katie is eleven. Her inner life can’t be on display just because her mother’s a writer.

It’s funny though. I somehow missed the ludicrously obvious parallels until this morning. Amazing what happens when you open a laptop.

So today, instead of trying to duck barbs and douse flames in a war that rages beyond my control, I’m going to tell a story about my daughter. Because that’s what I DO.

~

Saturday morning

The girls and I are driving to New Jersey to meet my nephew. Katie is in the back seat. Brooke is in her favorite spot in the third row. She has her head against the rear vent window, reveling in the wind on her face.

We are listening to the soundtrack from the Broadway version of Godspell. Katie is singing along. Periodically, she stops to ask a question. “Who sings this one, Mama?” I direct her to her sister. “Brooke knows, honey. Ask her.”

Brooke answers every question, remembers every name.

This is a turning point. Katie turning to her sister for information. Her sister sharing it. The two enjoying this together. This is not small.

Day By Day is ramping up into the chorus. It’s impossible not to sing along.

Day by day
Oh Dear Lord
Three things I pray
To see thee more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly
Day by day

We are all singing now. Together. This is not small.

I cock the rear view mirror down so that I can see Brooke. I watch her for a moment, then look back to the road. Then again, I steal a look at my girl. And then it happens. She looks at me in the mirror. And she smiles.

*

She literally caught my eye and then smiled at me.

I can’t explain this. I don’t have the words. I know that it’s a moment that happens in cars all day long. Mom watches kid, kid glances at mom, smiles. So?

So everything.

It’s a metaphor, isn’t it? This journey we’re on. To see more clearly, follow more nearly, love more dearly. It’s all the same. The mystery of God, the universe, our children, autism, it’s all the same. The journey to understand, the faith to believe in something bigger than ourselves, to believe in possibility, to believe in our children, to believe in each other.

The desperate need for understanding, for clarity, for love. And the divinity of the moments when we see – really see – each other. That is my God. That’s where I find Grace. In the moments of connection, I feel the presence of the Divine.

*

God is in the car.

We continue down the road, singing as loudly as we can.

Day by day
Oh Dear Lord
Three things I pray
To see thee more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly
Day by day

View the original article here

Autism Blog Fixed Up

Thanks to everyone for the patience you have.
The Autism Blog has been pretty quiet since October 2011 when my article machine quit working. I thought The programmer would get it going in a hurry but this is gone on too long.

We have a new article machine. I can’t say which one but I can say they are pretty expensive and that is why it has taken so long. A lot of these machines only work on the most popular themes, like affialiate marketing. Who cares about Autism? Not many I’m afraid.

I will be tuning up this new machine as time goes on.

Thanks – Bob