I have about three possible posts circling my brain, wondering if there are enough words to go with the feelings to cause them to spill into my fingers and land on the keyboard. I'm still not sure. But I'll give it a try, offering each a space of time and a different posting this week....
In the last week, Little B asked me if I'd ever decided whether he was "autistic" or not. (Some of you may recall that a couple years ago we discussed the likelihood of Asperger's with him. It went over as well as withdrawing money from a negative bank account; a doctor retracted the suggestion of Asperger's and pushed him onward instead, leaving me mildly uncertain what to think). So in response to this recent question, I deferred to the therapist or other doctor he sees. Just that simple. I also clarified that he's not autistic - but left most of what needed to be said to the professional.
Yesterday Little B asked the right person. Who explained the spectrum, ascertained he was not on far end, and described the milder side, Asperger's. She told him that she didn't always care to use such terms to describe people since everyone is different....I love and respect this, but I also think it's good to be able to embrace our individuality and be okay with it, label or no label. (I'm still learning to embrace my forever cluttered life - and be okay with inviting guests over whether their homes are cluttered and dusty or spotless...definite work in progress.)
She concluded by asking Little B what he thought of what she'd said. He promptly said he believed he had Asperger's. Her response was that while she agreed he exhibited many of the symptoms, it didn't mean it was conclusive. He came away more accepting of having it than not, but being okay with it. I'm relieved.
That, however, does not make it easier to live with him, or teach me how to be his mommy, or give me the compassion or balance needed at pivotal moments. I'm still a major work in progress.
