Originally uploaded by CleverGirlBek
On the front page of News-Press.com this evening…
“Fort Myers Bank Robber”
“The Lee County Sheriff’s office is looking for a bank….”
Originally uploaded by CleverGirlBek
This is my absentee ballot return envelope return address. I saw on the news that some have lines for you to fill in your name and address…Ours are pre-printed and include such helpful information as:
My voting precinct, my full name, and of course my return address.
I was curious, though as to what the “non” meant… I had an idea, so I called our supervisor of election’s office today and spoke to a very nice lady who looked up my file and confirmed that my envelope does have my party affiliation on it… She added that many envelopes are turning up with “non” on them because it is a general election…
It takes me awhile to process information these days so I thanked her and got off the phone…I’m scratching my head over why they would put “non” instead of “NPA” which is the terminology used on the ballot…
Anyway, She sounded so reassuring, but at the same time, in the three years that I have lived here (in Florida) I have learned through experience that most rules, regulations, and general information are processed through some sort of a series of filters in a game of “telephone” like we played at the birthday parties of our youth…
Nobody actually reads the rules and regulations, and I think folks take for granted that things such as the idea of a secret ballot and keeping the system pure (I know, I know… but isn’t it up to every one of us to try?!?!?) so we get a real, true count.
So I’m blogging about this, and if you are in a place with preprinted addresses on your absentee ballot return envelope- is your party affiliation printed somewhere in there? What are you doing about it?
If you are in Lee County does it say anything other than “non” next to your precinct?
Broward County here in Florida is having this issue and people have spoken up…
From what I have been reading on other places that have this sort of thing, is that we, the citizens, are expected to trust our postal service and our postal workers, and anyone involved in the chain of getting the ballot to the point when and where it is counted…. I trust the postal worker who services our neighborhood, but honestly with the amount of corruption and the amount of passion people have about our government and the state of the union and how deeply they have been impacted just within the past year, I don’t trust anyone to handle this precious envelope and it’s contents if there is a party identifier on the outside.
It would be nice to see a Florida where things like this wouldn’t even need to be addressed. Maybe then our great nation would trust us again….
I would be more concerned if I had a specific party affiliation…But still, this seems like have any such information on the outside of the envelope regarding party, invites tampering and fraud…
What are your thoughts?
Originally uploaded by CleverGirlBek
Our child and our life together as a family are not normal, average, or regular. It’s freaking hard people. I don’t want to hear about the sunny side. I don’t want to hear about how so and so’s kid was cured or how my kid looks normal or seems normal to you. I don’t want to hear how normal is boring. I crave boring. I love my child. But a day of boring. A day of regular. A day of normal, with Alex present and active, would be the most extravagant outrageous vacation we could ever imagine. Sure, we’d get to the end of the vacation and we’d probably say we were glad to be heading home, but we would have had fun in normal, regular, boring while we were there. We had a day of relative “normal” on Sunday…But it was a brief snapshot… I hope to see it again and more frequently, but of course it is the day to day that is important right now. I wouldn’t say it was totally normal, but we could see the progress over the past year. My son is 5. He went on his first motorized amusement ride on Sunday. He didn’t lose his shit or scream or yell or stand up or climb out while it was in motion. He didn’t even seem to notice it was moving and tilting. They had a bubble machine in the middle and he just stared at the bubbles and tried to catch them from his seat. Those bubbles weren’t there for the other kids who like the round and round and the wind and the tilt, they were there for my kid so he could handle the round and round and continue having a great day. I almost hugged the ride operator. But I would have had to explain…And I didn’t want to bring on the tears or they would have never stopped because I am just overwhelmed and tired…
This is a picture of him in his oktoberfest hat…We get him a new pin every year… The backpack has his weighted vest in it..He is sensitive about it lately- we are rapidly speeding past the age where special was good and it was ok, to him, to be different…He notices the differences now, and he isn’t happy about them…So the vest goes in the backpack where Alex thinks it’s ready if he needs it, meanwhile it helps him as the weight is still being applied… (it’s light, only around 2lbs)
After five years of being told or at least hinted to that we look too deep, overanalyze, and/or are paranoid people, it is nice to have the validation given by the objective test results. There is something going on. It’s not our fault, but it does not exist independent of us and it’s up to us to make a difference. Any difference.
A very dear friend once described life after a tragedy as “the new normal”….
I would love to apply that here but the reality is that the majority of this has been normal for so long that it can no longer be described as new. There are new parts. But this stuff isn’t a shock, it’s a relief in some ways, a jumping off point… It’s not like he was diagnosed with something like a tumor that we didn’t know was there but it has been hurting him…This wasn’t something that happened overnight…
I do wish that people (professionals and non-professionals) had not spat our observations out the way that they did. Even one person we trusted saying “if you are worried, here’s here you need to look” or “you know your child best” could have gotten Alex help much sooner. We have been reassured since his birth that “this is how kids act” or told we were paranoid. This has never served us well. This is our first time around. I feel like a jerk for trusting and confiding in professionals and non-professionals rather than just going with my gut. But going with my gut led me to those professionals (general pediatrician, etc) and they shot everything down with a “he looks fine to me”…. Not that his test results are black and white- oh no, not my kid…That would be too easy… But our concerns were valid, and they were signals, red flags, and they were largely ignored and belittled. This is the anger part for me. The last time I was in his peds office when he had a fever and was acting strange I explained to the ped who was handling urgent care for the office that Alex doesn’t climb things and he is ground bound and doesn’t even like climbing up on his bed, but other than the low grade fever the only other symptom he had was that he was climbing things- barstools, counters, bookshelves. She looked at me like my face had suddenly morphed into a pile of turds and said “You do know he is a 5 year old boy and that’s what 5 year old boys do.”
But not my 5 year old boy. It was odd behavior for my child.
I have had it up to my eyeballs with doctors seeing all children as the same and fearing helping a child. I also think if 5% of a parent’s intuition or concerns were actually heard and processed and considered, so many kids could be helped.
For now there is enough clarity to spin new threads of inquiry, of questioning.
There is not enough to thoroughly research but there is enough to investigate therapies for associated issues, general issues, so that we can begin helping our son in a more focused manner.
But there is not enough to buy a pile of books with specific names, but we can take them out at the library but I still feel like we are hiding, like without a definite diagnosis (and I understand there are benefits to not having a diagnosis, but those are starting to really dim for me these days) we can’t officially belong.
On the other hand, some very wise and generous women with kids who are, in many ways, like my own child, have welcomed me with grace and understanding and because they have been where I am today the conversations and emotion come like a tsunami. Our situation is unique, and in the grand scheme of things and just statistically in the world population, our experience is so very unique to the point of isolation. But with the kindness and openness of these warrior mamas, I finally feel like we are less of a freakshow and for the first time it feels like I might be able to talk to someone without being told what I am doing wrong or that I have to be strong and not cry. The details and diagnoses are very specific; the stories are universal. I used to cry after hearing or reading a show or article about a parent and their child, and that child’s challenges. I now cry out of relief because I know we are not alone.
I am finally finding the strength to speak up for my child. The anger and frustration of those who judge, both strangers and family, infuriates me. Part of me longs to educate, as I have had to do many times on my behalf.
But I’m exhausted. When I am in public or broken down enough that I collapse on the shoulder of my most critical family member, knowing that I will be criticized, that I need a formula to choose my words wisely but with strength. It is difficult with a screaming child, to explain to the stranger, that a spanking or a “good whooping” will not do a thing because this is a neurological issue. It’s not a bad thing, it’s not a good thing. Whatever this thing is it is a fact. I long for that fact.
I have decided that once we have a single word to describe the why that I will have to screenprint some cards with more information. The old man at the store who tells me his sons would have never gotten away with this sort of behavior will get a card. My mother, who when we first mentioned that Alex had a visit with a new neurologist, will get one when she responds that she notices a certain abnormal behavior but only in response to me and that if Alex spent an hour with her every week (instead of the professionals who help him) that he would be normal and cured. I wish I could slap them across the face. I know that wouldn’t solve anything. I know that would most definitely not be a positive example for Alex. But I want that ice water over the head, that smack across the face, that maybe they will learn to shut their mouths when they just don’t know. If that old man (for example…could be anyone, but the 70+ male crown tends to be the most blunt and rude) realized that there are unseen things in the world and they shouldn’t judge (although the thing about old dogs and new tricks comes to mind, I have been proven wrong once or twice), then maybe the next mama struggling at the store with her kid and his raw nerves and communication issues would not have to get all of the tears out in the car so her eyes won’t be blurry on the drive home. So maybe that mama could venture out for more than just milk and toilet paper without being judged and maybe solutions could be found in those outing than are not as visible in a controlled, home environment.
My parents constantly tell me that I am too sensitive. At the end of a long day, with many struggles, where not one simple activity is accomplished with ease, I don’t think anyone who cries because someone judges them in a most disrespectful and ignorant manner, is sensitive. I think they are human. For me it’s that reiteration that we don’t fit in. Now we are finding that we do fit in, just not in any actual, physical place with any consistency. But we now have the connection to others with similar quirks and traits and disorders, who even though they may be on different continents or thousands of miles away, help us feel accepted….
It also floors me that we are spending so much time one social skills and social stories, yet on some days I feel like Alex has more of a grasp on it then the “well meaning” adults we encounter.
So please, if you read this far, please give people the benefit of the doubt. There are many things which are unseen and many of us who have mountains of challenges, with more challenges piled on top of the first mountain’s worth. Instead of assuming you have the cure, the answer, or the key to our salvation please take a breath and ask if you were having trouble walking with a cane and balancing the milk and bread in the other arm- what would be helpful to you? A comment about how you walk too slow? No. Ask if you can help carry something for us. If you don’t want to help. Kindly zip it. If you see an exhausted mom with a screaming kid (who isn’t screaming “help” or “this is not my mom” but generally yelling and screaming and crying, please wave and say hello. His name is Alex and I am Bek. It’s nice to meet you.
(I swear I will go back to my regular blog entries soon…We are in the immersion phase of planning and implementing… I get ½ an hour in the afternoon when I just finally start to crack but I am still somewhat coherent… Hugs all around…)
It’s quiet… The stress of this week, the fight or flight response of Tuesday’s meeting with the school district, has mellowed a bit…
We are not pulling kiddo from his school until we have a better plan in place. I feel like we were blindsided and given no time to gather people and information as the test results came in and BAM! same meeting we were writing the IEP- with really no idea of what we could include…
So we are on a little mental vacation from planning and researching a change. Instead I have been strategizing on how to reach kiddo and the three of us have been working together to plan how to help him in the immediate future. It’s frustrating. He is overwhelmed, but also relieved… He told me he was worried about school.
He said, “I fit in.”
I think he fits in right now the way that someone in camo fits in with the forest…I think he blends enough that some of the kids accept him. If he feels that he fits in then I am so happy about that. I never had that feeling of fitting in as a kid- not even with my family, immediate or extended, and I struggle with it as an adult, but for the most part I have my tribe. I am loved and I love. And I love that Alex feels loved by the kids at school, even with the constant struggles and the huge differences. I love that they take him by the hand and sit him down and even though he is often looking off into space (or at the fire sprinklers or ceiling fan), they treat him as an active participant… When I pick him up from school the kids tell him that I am there and on occasion this one girl who Alex adores will help him clean up his space and remind him to bring his lunchbag to me, at the door to the classroom… She will hold his hand and lead him to me. Sometimes I get progress reports. It’s amazing the differences between the two, and he is 5 and she will be 4 soon and there are similarities, but it’s the differences that are so beautiful and startling and it is this difference between Alex and the other kids that keeps him safe in many ways, at least for now. At least until they start noticing differences as a negative thing. It happens. It is life. We have so much work to do and what a rollercoaster we are on…
But I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world…
“I should use a pencil. No, doesn’t feel right. Pencils can be erased. I voted against pencils in 2003. When Senator Obama was a third grader he used a pencil….
I should use a pen. Yes. Joe Plumber uses a pen to write his estimates and handwritten receipts when he is fixing soccer….um… SoccerGrandma’s pipes. There is nothing more permanent then a pen. Soccer. What would a groundbreaking individual write with. David Beckham writes with a sharpie. I have seen the commercials on the seat back TV during my many flights to many foreign places. Obama has never been to any foreign place. Where was I? Beckham. Sharpie. I’ll write with a sharpie. I’ll hold it so the name is visible to Joe Plumber at home. It says non-toxic. It’s a health product. All American’s are healthy. Sharpie. That’s it. It’s permanent. It’s bold. It’s the maver….best darn tootin’ pen Mrs. Sally Beauty Supply would want.”
(ok. my monologues tend to be lengthy…but maybe I’m just bitter because my health insurance does cost $17,400/year (for a family of 3) because of my pre-existing, non-preventable condition….)
**Please note that none of this was really said (to my knowledge) by anyone, except me. Of course there is the monkeys and typewriters in a room theory, but they tend to have less scattered thoughts than I do. This is opinion, it is mine.**