The Superwoman Mythology - Miss Me With This Shit
Hello, my Lovelies!
I've done something that I've only done with a very select group of people. You know that I have no issues discussing my depression issues, which I'm working on and maintaining a balance with that and my anger management issues. In fact, the situation is improving to where I'm now taking control over the things that have bothered me outside of my home life, so YAY me!
I have a child; well, she's an adult, really. At 28, I still see Charlene as the little baby that I brought home from the hospital so many years ago, but she's a fully grown woman who is attending college to become a L & D nurse. She also works part time at a local hospital. Over the years, I've often talked about Charlene and her studying to become a nurse, her crappy cooking, her apparent indifference to me wanting grandchildren, and her
She's also an adult who has Asperger's Syndrome.
This is something that I haven't revealed to very many people over the years. Not even close family members knew what was up. I mean, they knew that she was developmentally delayed in speech early on, but not that we were dealing with something like this. In fact, I've never mentioned the name to anyone. Only recently did I reveal it to several people who have children with DD's that I've actually verbaliazed the word "Asperger's.
It's not that I'm ashamed of her - trust that, but I want people to treat her as a young woman and not some damaged, delicate doll who needs to be protected.
For some people, it's hard to nail down exactly what was wrong with their child, but some catch on right away. It's the little things, right? The little details about your kid that others who aren't around you all the time would remark that your kid seemed so advanced that the kid is practically the second coming of Einstein. You, on the other hand, looked at your kid and thought it wasn't quite right. From the time she was born, I thought something was extremely off. For instance, she never cried at birth. Not at all. I got upset and thought that she was stillborn, but the hubby and the doctor assured me that she was fine. I thought it was strange. In fact, she didn't cry for several days after this. However, by her 7th day of life, she cried for about 48 hours non-stop. While I was glad and the hubby wasn't, it was still strange. After this, I would wake up in the middle of the night because I wouldn't hear her crying and would find her just starring up at the top of the cradle.
Strange. Not a sound.
By her 4th week, she was sleeping through the night, but my sleep pattern was permanently ruined. You see, as a mother we think that SIDS is going to happen so we keep vigilance almost non-stop.
By her 6th week, her dad wanted to get her ears pierced. I know it sounds barbaric, but when I was six months old, my ears were pierced. This was in 1966, when the preferred method was an ice cube, a sterilized sewing needle and a piece of string. Nowadays, piercings were done with a piercing gun. Okay, I was down for this. We took her to this place, name of which escapes me, and the young lady assured us that the pressure from the gun would be what hurt the most, so I stood over my ex's (not going into that story) shoulder ready to swoop down and grab my precious baby away from the mean ole piercing lady and kick her in the throat while I'm at it. Sherman held her tight while the lady quickly pierced one earlobe, and then the other.
Charlene never made a sound.
He and the young lady praised Charlene for being a big girl. I stared at my baby thinking, "well, that's not right."
After that, she seemed to have a pain tolerance. Any time she got an immunization, she would never cry, and while the nurse and doctor would praise her once again with "you're a big girl," I thought, "well, that's not right."
Then, at six months, she walked from one side of her playpen to the other. You read that right - she walked. Not crawled...she walked. Again, the praise. Again, me going, "uhhhhh..."
By the time she was one, she missed a milestone. She would laugh and play with other kids, but if you were in her face making the funny face licking your tongue out and her thumbs in your ears, she didn't even so much as crack a smile. I thought it was odd, but once again others thought it was nothing. She was also not verbalizing key words. By the time she was two, me and the now ex were history and I was left to deal with this alone.
I've done something that I've only done with a very select group of people. You know that I have no issues discussing my depression issues, which I'm working on and maintaining a balance with that and my anger management issues. In fact, the situation is improving to where I'm now taking control over the things that have bothered me outside of my home life, so YAY me!
I have a child; well, she's an adult, really. At 28, I still see Charlene as the little baby that I brought home from the hospital so many years ago, but she's a fully grown woman who is attending college to become a L & D nurse. She also works part time at a local hospital. Over the years, I've often talked about Charlene and her studying to become a nurse, her crappy cooking, her apparent indifference to me wanting grandchildren, and her
She's also an adult who has Asperger's Syndrome.
This is something that I haven't revealed to very many people over the years. Not even close family members knew what was up. I mean, they knew that she was developmentally delayed in speech early on, but not that we were dealing with something like this. In fact, I've never mentioned the name to anyone. Only recently did I reveal it to several people who have children with DD's that I've actually verbaliazed the word "Asperger's.
It's not that I'm ashamed of her - trust that, but I want people to treat her as a young woman and not some damaged, delicate doll who needs to be protected.
For some people, it's hard to nail down exactly what was wrong with their child, but some catch on right away. It's the little things, right? The little details about your kid that others who aren't around you all the time would remark that your kid seemed so advanced that the kid is practically the second coming of Einstein. You, on the other hand, looked at your kid and thought it wasn't quite right. From the time she was born, I thought something was extremely off. For instance, she never cried at birth. Not at all. I got upset and thought that she was stillborn, but the hubby and the doctor assured me that she was fine. I thought it was strange. In fact, she didn't cry for several days after this. However, by her 7th day of life, she cried for about 48 hours non-stop. While I was glad and the hubby wasn't, it was still strange. After this, I would wake up in the middle of the night because I wouldn't hear her crying and would find her just starring up at the top of the cradle.
Strange. Not a sound.
By her 4th week, she was sleeping through the night, but my sleep pattern was permanently ruined. You see, as a mother we think that SIDS is going to happen so we keep vigilance almost non-stop.
By her 6th week, her dad wanted to get her ears pierced. I know it sounds barbaric, but when I was six months old, my ears were pierced. This was in 1966, when the preferred method was an ice cube, a sterilized sewing needle and a piece of string. Nowadays, piercings were done with a piercing gun. Okay, I was down for this. We took her to this place, name of which escapes me, and the young lady assured us that the pressure from the gun would be what hurt the most, so I stood over my ex's (not going into that story) shoulder ready to swoop down and grab my precious baby away from the mean ole piercing lady and kick her in the throat while I'm at it. Sherman held her tight while the lady quickly pierced one earlobe, and then the other.
Charlene never made a sound.
He and the young lady praised Charlene for being a big girl. I stared at my baby thinking, "well, that's not right."
After that, she seemed to have a pain tolerance. Any time she got an immunization, she would never cry, and while the nurse and doctor would praise her once again with "you're a big girl," I thought, "well, that's not right."
Then, at six months, she walked from one side of her playpen to the other. You read that right - she walked. Not crawled...she walked. Again, the praise. Again, me going, "uhhhhh..."
By the time she was one, she missed a milestone. She would laugh and play with other kids, but if you were in her face making the funny face licking your tongue out and her thumbs in your ears, she didn't even so much as crack a smile. I thought it was odd, but once again others thought it was nothing. She was also not verbalizing key words. By the time she was two, me and the now ex were history and I was left to deal with this alone.
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