so long.

I haven’t written in a while.

I don’t like to do that.

I can’t tell you how many times I have come to a blank screen and thought, “Well, I’m here…now what.”

How much of real life can go onto a blog. At what point does it become over sharing. I saw a YouTube video recently that had the presenter talking about the benefits of keeping a journal on paper, rather than go to the likes of Twitter or Facebook (neither of which I put too much on…), but the principle was that some of the stuff we put online shouldn’t be there.

She was saying this because she was annoyed at reading melodramatic postings that were, yes, I’d say inappropriate for the audience. Maybe something more appropriate for a notebook in a drawer, than in public.

So I think about things, and honestly? When I blog, a lot of times I will do so, so that someone will listen.

Our son was recently assessed by our school district and although not a medical diagnosis, everyone feels fairly confident that he falls somewhere on the autism spectrum.

This, I had expected, but it is different to actually be working through things. The past few weeks have been a blur of assessments and meetings. We are now putting together an IEP.

It is good to see progress, but still overwhelming. I try not to think about everything at once. Talking with my aunt, who had helped her autistic grandson through the process, helped me to feel better.

One step at a time.

I have been pouring over docs online to see what I could have done to change things. Things I could have done differently – not that those things matter, now, but I’m the type who studies up.

The more that I read and find, the more I can see smattering of characteristics across my family both sides. It is strange how much you can notice when you look at things in a certain way. No conclusions, of course, just interesting.

One frustrating thing that happened is that we were trying to open enroll our son in the school district where he is currently in daycare. Note the “were” part of the sentence. We found out last week that the district was over capped for their special needs department and weren’t accepting any new students.

So, the past week, we have been desperately searching for a home daycare in our home district. We have been interviewing the past few days and are pretty sure we have our choice figured out, but it will also involve rearranging our work schedules, etc.

So much in such a short amount of time.

Unrelated, but related, it’s really stupid, but I have also had issues with the name of my blog. I registered it way back, but have never completely identified with it.

I don’t feel brave. I’m definitely not a girl, anymore, either. But I don’t feel a strong pull toward anything else.

But, I’m posting, so there’s that. I can’t help but wonder if posting somewhere else under a different blog name would help with my motivation to write? Something to consider, anyway.

Maybe it’s not that uncommon of a thing. Dooce might curse her choice of name every single day, for all I know. (Does she still write? I haven’t followed her in ages.)

Anyway, I’m going to post this, now, rather than have it sit in my drafts.

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2 thoughts on “so long.

  1. Hi Erin. It’s good to hear your voice again. My brother is severely autistic. Being born in the 60s, and being atypical (he was extremely verbal), he wasn’t accurately diagnosed until he was in his 20s. As you might imagine, this had a big impact on me growing up. I think I spent a lot of energy trying to prove that whatever my brother was (and we didn’t know what he was), I wasn’t any of it.

    A book that changed me profoundly is Paul Collins’s “Not Even Wrong: Adventures in Autism.” It’s a memoir about his son/exploration of autism–and reading it was the first time I saw the family component of autism that you mention here. It was also the first time I saw autistic traits (of which I and others I love have in abundance) as assets rather than deficits. Now, I am helping Cane raise a daughter with Asperger’s. All of my experiences with autism have blown to pieces ideas I once had of what “normal” is and what it means to be successful. Or what people need to be happy. It’s been an interesting journey. Hard, for sure–but rich. Normal is over-rated.

    Wishing you well and hoping you keep writing. Blog names don’t matter all that much.

    • Thank you for your kind words. I will need to check our library for the book you mention, especially knowing it had such an affect on your outlook. Glad to hear from you, Rita.

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