The Work Never Ends

 So a month in to the doctoral program, there’s been no shortage of CTJ moments. My first presentation earned kudos, but I bankrupted my time allotment on it, so racing to catch up. Reading and connecting all the dots, I’m reminded again of my why, always present here at home, and all the required reading confirms everything in my current situation.

I don’t know if I will make it through, but I will show up and do the work and hope for the best.

I’m happy for the volume of work in a way because it’s a distraction from the sometimes overwhelming sadness I am feeling. The school bus no longer comes for us. I should be overjoyed. Instead the world seems to be folding in on itself into an increasingly smaller space for my boys.

I need to finish this assignment.

I need to finish this degree.

I need to disrupt this whole system.

This is the only place I know where to start.

Like a Boss

 It’s been a minute.

We’ve managed to get both guys registered for classes; the three of us are ready to press play in 9 days.

While my work wife is out of the country, I managed to keep both her and my plates spinning with nary a hiccup, although there were plenty of moments where I wanted to hide sobbing under my desk. (I didn’t)

Instead, I found myself as I increasingly find myself; in command, in charge, and not afraid to call the plays that need calling.

It was with enormous relief and gratitude and gratification that I snapped my laptop shut, changed gears, and downshifted into chill.

Finding grace in the spaces and solace in nature and the night air.

At the Top of the Roller Coaster

 So the last couple of months has had the cadence of riding up the big hill of a roller coaster. It’s been on a climb the better part of the last six months, and now we’re easing in at the top, preparing for the scream-inducing descent into the void.

I don’t think I’m ready for this.

Task paralysis kicks in again; there are lots of forms to fill out, websites to log in to and update what feels like TBs of information. I hate filling out forms; my purgatory will involve endless forms and socks to sort.

I think we’re all feeling it.

Adulting Could Be Going Better

 I’m officially old. I can’t cut through Elder’s bs anymore.

There’s a lot to be done, and all I want to do is crawl into bed.

I did a lot of little things, and I expected the boys to do some too.

One did. One did not.

There may be nothing for me to do but let his inertia consume him.

He doesn’t want help; he doesn’t think he needs it.

He’s not in need of fixing, I’m told.

I don’t know what to do.

Autism Mom Victorious

 So I was accepted into the doctoral program the same week that, 13 years ago, was the single worst week of my life.

As with every other split in my life, this way forward is fraught. But I’m not going to let that stop me.

My goal is to finish this before my 60th birthday.

I defended my Master’s thesis the day after my 28th birthday.

I need the discipline of a deadline, or it won’t happen.

I’ve waited decades for this moment, so I’m going to achieve or die trying.

A Timeline

 Oct 2003: “Look at that cord.” Younger barrels into this world straight into the NICU. We don’t know if his precipitous delivery inflicted long-lasting damage.

2003-2006: Identified as a sibling of an autistic child. Becomes a study subject. Is in and out of early intervention because he unqualified himself only to qualify again two months later.

Oct 2006: conditional autism diagnosis to continue services through the intermediate unit.

2007: Daycare teacher takes time off work to essentially shame the powers that be to increase meager services—and succeeds in helping the familial unit get a team together. Younger thrives.

2009: K-12; into the breach

Time passes. All kinds of stuff happens, good, bad, ugly, indifferent. The ongoing study reveals a spiky cognitive profile. His processing speed gets in the way of peer interaction. Nevertheless, he persists.

2014: Attends his first IEP meeting as a team member. Calls out another member for not recognizing his membership.

2019: Runs his first IEP meeting as team leader. Calls out another team member for questionable behavior.

2020-21:  COVD reveals an academic rock star. Up until this point, sitting in a desk yielded him average grades; distance learning allowed him to wander through the house with his laptop, and further unburdened by sensory overload that comes with peopling, discovers he can not only learn, he can excel. Makes honor roll for the first time. (And is one of like 5 people who came out of COVD better off)

2022: Walks with his class. Begins college and Vo-tech for his super senior years.

2024: Earns his associates and collects his diploma. And is bound for Temple.

I am forgetting everything

 Wish it were deliberate, but I am not that lucky.

I can write a book about mom, but another time.

The sun sets on our time in the school district. In September, I will have two college juniors. I’m looking in the mirror and the years are catching up. Trying to make my eyes and teeth last longer, but genetics push back hard.

Elder went to his first life celebration solo today; I dropped him off and wish I got a picture of him greeting and hugging people on his way in. He even got up and said a few words about his friend. He reports being over dressed, but better over than under.

Younger graduates community college in less than two weeks and is looking forward to what’s next.

I applied for a doctoral program, and we’ll see where that goes.

I’m paddling, spent two hours on the river today, and although it was cloudy and chilly, I needed the mindfulness of  paddling; nothing exists outside the boat as long as I am in it.

Hopeful. Hope is all there is.