Autism Positivity Week

Photo by Jason Hargrove

As some of you may know, a friend of E over at The Third Glance is participating in Autism Positivity Week at her school, which I think is a much-needed breath of fresh air. She’s asking people on the spectrum to submit positive quotes about their lives.

Here’s mine: “My Aspie gifts of determination, obsessive interests, and hyperlexia have allowed me to actualize my dreams of traveling the world and learning two foreign languages.”

If you’re interested in participating, please leave your positive statements in the comments section and indicate that she may share them. Or, you may send them to her directly at abailin (at) ucsd (dot) edu. See below for her letter on this great project, and feel free to post it in its entirety (no edits) on your blog.

Dear Auties, Aspies, and anyone else who identifies as being on the Autistic Spectrum,

For Autism Awareness Month, my Students with Disabilities group is putting on an Autism Positivity Week, where we do our best to myth-bust the “tragedy model” and let people know about some of the up-sides to being on the autistic spectrum. We’re not going to sugarcoat the difficulties that autistic people and their families face, but we’re going to shift the focus to celebrating neurodiversity and encouraging acceptance of individual differences.

I’m looking for some brief testimonials about how people on the spectrum can lead good and generally happy lives, go to college, have careers or hobbies they enjoy, etc.  I’d particularly like to help express the diversity of interests, activities, and lifestyles among the autistic community.

What I want from you: short statements (1-3 sentences each) telling us about one of your favorite hobbies, areas of study, special skills, and/or career/career aspirations. They do not have to be related to your autism in any way. I’d also be happy to get short statements about anything you particularly like about being autistic.

By sending in these statements, you are giving me permission to print them out and share them with the public. You will be identified only by a single first initial. Please email all entries to abailin (at) ucsd (dot) edu.  (Also, this event is for all ages, so as much as I’d enjoy hearing the details of your excellent love life, please send only G-rated statements). And if you use facebook, please join and spread the word about Autism Positivity Week here: https://www.facebook.com/events/144250802369548/

Thank you!-A.

Sorry, Kid. The Easter Bunny has Asperger’s

No honey. The Easter Bunny isn't drunk. She's just a little off today. Photo by Anirudh Koul.

It’s a big Easter at our house this year. Little Yoda, who is allergic to almost everything, is now officially allowed to eat corn. And that means he is finally able to indulge in the #1 kid holiday ingredient of which he has been deprived for far too long: corn syrup!

As such, I went shopping early. I bought Jelly Bellies. “Cottontail” cotton candy balls. Fruit Gushers. You name it. If it’s celiac-safe, it was in my Target cart. And even more impressively, I went online sometime in February and bought bunny and egg chocolate candy molds for some homemade gluten-free, dairy-free Easter basket classics. I even bought pastel foil to wrap them in, thus making them look store-bought.

Because Yoda is the master of kid-sleuths, and because I’m Aspie-obsessed with being crowned this year’s best Easter Bunny, I hid all of these items very well.

A little too well.

That’s right.

I can’t find any of it.

Not a damned thing.

Curses to you, executive functioning deficits!

37 Happiest Age, My Study Says

Image by Will Clayon

So, not only did I survive the 37^th birthday rager mentioned below, I actually loved it. Amidst the mass craziness, I rolled with a small bubble of friends. A good percentage of them even connected with the mid-90s hip hop that I “dared” people to request from the DJ so I didn’t have to. Mid-90s hip hop is my safe place. I know the words. I can do the running man.

Furthermore, I juiced for liver health the entire month of March with the obsessive fervor that only an Aspie can pull off, and I enjoyed 2 ½ drinks with minimal hangover consequences thus.

So, I call shenanigans on 33 is the Happiest Age article that virtually every major news site ran yesterday. For me, 33 was a sucky age. It involved chronic vertigo, anemia, loads of barfing and an insomniac preschooler who trashed my house.  So far, 37 not only brings oodles of 90s hip hop, but also health that borders on good and an almost-7-year-old who sleeps 11 hours a night and cleans the house for fun.

As my favorite Chinese YA author says, “Year of the Dragon, baby!” It’s a good year to turn 37!

What’s your happiest age? Why?

Quirky and Bonkers

Silence at Quirky and Laughing can only ever mean one thing – I’m losing it over here! Life has a pesky way of throwing shit at me when all I really want is to cuddle with a weighted blanket and blogsurf. Alas, shit’s a-flyin’.

So while I apologize for my blog neglect, I assure you, I am setting myself up for failure at every turn so that you may soon resume laughing at the clumsy way through which I navigate my life. A tidbit to tide you over: I’m co-hosting a balls-to-the-wall rager, complete with a keg and hired DJ for my 37th birthday. It was my friend’s idea. About 70 people are coming. I’ve invited 5 of them. Given that I’m allergic to every crumb we’re serving, am virtually incapable of metabolizing alcohol and am crippled by small talk, I’m confident nothing could go wrong. Party on!

Weighted Blanket Giveaway

Fun fact about me: Sometime back in my Jack Kerouac-ish, wanderlusty youth, I lived in Northwestern Brazil. It was hot as balls. I could not blow dry my hair because my head sweat outpaced the dryer. I didn’t wear make up because it slid right off my face. And I swear I never saw one person wearing socks. You would think that with all this blazing, unmoving jungle heat, my bed would not look like this.

Image provided by Bruce Berrien

But it did.

My host family said I was only person in the rain forest who slept with blankets. Now we know why.

Weighted blankets soothe this anxious, over-stimulated Aspie.

As such, I’m going to do whatever I can to rig* Cozy Calm’s weighted blanket giveaway so I can get me one. And you can get you one, too. See below for Cozy’s Calm’s promo:

Cozy Calm is awarding FOUR weighted blankets

•                1 Couch-Length Relaxation Weighted Blanket
•                1 Child Size Weighted Blanket
•                One of two lap cozys (child or adult size)

But wait, there’s more to win! Scroll down to find out

You have a chance to win one or even many of 11 weighted blanket gift certificates:

•                Grand Prize $100 gift certificate
•                Second Prize, one of two $75 gift certificates
•                Third prize, one of three $50 gift certificates
•                Fourth prize, one of five $25 gift certificates

You can enter often with many ways to win a weighted blanket…

Enter on Facebook…

•                Like us on Facebook
•                Choose what size and color of weighted blanket you like and post it on our wall.
•                You can get another chance to win by referring a friend.  When your friend writes her dream blanket on our wall along with your name as a referral, you are entered to win again.
•                Every time you refer a friend, you get entered in the contest.  Now how great is that!

Enter now on Facebook…

Enter on the Cozy Calm blog…

•                Subscribe to the Cozy Calm owner’s blog (http://eileenparker.com)
•                Choose what size and color of weighted blanket you like and post it as a comment to this post for a chance to win a prize.
•                You can get another chance to win by referring a friend to enter.
•                Every time one of your friends enters the contest, you get entered in the contest again.  Now how great is that!

Weighted Blanket Contest Rules:

•                The contest ends and winners are chosen on May 1, 2012
•                Valid for residents of the United States and Canada
•                Cannot be redeemed for cash
•                Unsubscribing or UnLiking before May 1, 2012 means withdrawal from the contest
•                Contest winner agrees to name, city and state, likeness, and prize won on the Cozy Calm website, blog, Facebook page, elsewhere as we see appropriate, and contest winners may be asked why they want a weighted blanket, which may be for publication.

*I’m not really rigging it. But I am going to enter.

For contest questions contact Laura.

The Secret Language of Aspies

Not all communication looks the same. Image by Woodleywonderworks.

I think we have to do something about the mainstream definition of Asperger’s. Seriously, bullet points like lacks empathy and inability to read nonverbal cues and theory of mind limitations make us sound inhuman.

We aren’t.

Saying Aspies don’t have these abilities at all is like saying a Spaniard is mute because he can’t string sentence together in English.

It’s a different language, people.

For example, the other day at little Yoda’s school, an autistic boy* walked by me with an expressionless face as his aide led him into a magic show on campus. I had to fight tears. Why? Because I could tell that he was about 45 seconds from a meltdown and the magic show would traumatize him. None of the other adults around noticed. 45 seconds later, he ran out screaming and self-harming, his stunned, neurotypical (NT) aide running after him, the onlooking adults writing it off as a random act of autism.

I can practically communicate with Aspies telepathically. Empathy. Body language. Theory of mind. I have them all. With Aspies. I just stumble with NTs. Just like NTs stumble with me when I have to haul ass out of the grocery store because Kenny G is playing. Or when I go bonkers because someone gently strokes my forearm (no light touches!). Or when my face goes deadpan because I’m losing my shit.

Aspies and NTs just don’t get each other. We speak different languages. We need Esperanto.

Since the real genius and eloquence on this blog always presents itself in the comments section, I turn to you for supporting evidence, readers! Or arguments. Those are always good, too.

* This autistic boy is a veritable animal whisperer and is fluent in some extraordinarily empathetic silent animal language that I can’t even begin to access.

My Overlooked but Glaringly Obvious Aspieness

An atom. Riiiiiiight. Image by Halfdan

About a quarter of the way through eleventh grade, my Chemistry teacher called home with concerns. I was performing below my potential. I was despondent in class. I was off in another world.

“Are you on drugs?” asked my parents. “Broken-hearted? Knocked up?”

“I don’t believe in atoms,” I said.

We should have known then that something about me was a little off.

Memories like this one and others are flitting through my brain lately, and they’re looking a lot different than they did the first time around. I think I’m officially in the Validation phase of accepting my Aspie diagnosis. According to Rudy Simone, that means I’m looking back on my whole life and am re-framing it. It probably shocks you to know that I’m doing that obsessively.

Some of these memories crack me up for their weirdness alone. Others for the blatant Aspieness that didn’t raise flags in the ‘80’s but wouldn’t go unnoticed for a second today. Here are a few of my favorites:

• I dropped out of Brownies after my initiation ceremony because I couldn’t get over the absurdity of having to study my face in a mirror on the floor and pretend it was a pond.

• I dove under the table and screamed every time someone ordered flaming cheese in Greek Town.

• I stayed up until 4:00 AM once in fifth grade because I simply HAD to figure out the pattern of squared numbers. I solved it and promptly fell asleep.  Answer: (n+1)² – n² = 2n+1

• I agonized (read: sobbed, barfed, had nightmares) for days in second grade because I lost a library book.

• I could recite every line in Miracle on 34^th Street (including the part when Santa sings in Dutch), but could not remember to comb my hair. Ever.

• I read Ramona Quimby, Age 8 at least 487 times.

• When asked in first grade: “If you were mayor, would you allow radio stations to play tunes that transform your citizens into exotic creatures?” I replied, “Those songs don’t exist.”

I know not all of you out there reading are Aspie, but for those of you that are, please share some of your painfully obvious but overlooked childhood Aspieness in the comments below!