Don’t let my daughter die!

This was my constant prayer for several weeks earlier this fall.

My then 9-year-old had some sort of upper respiratory illness that would cause her to gag on phlegm, then suck in so much air that she would vomit and choke at the same time. It was terrifying, and nothing seemed to help it – except for a lot of fluids and some strong expectorants that weren’t recommended for children. The doctor ok’d them, though.

In the midst of my terror, I realized that I wasn’t really asking for my daughter’s benefit, but my own. I mean, who was really going to benefit from this prayer? If she stayed here on earth with me, I would get the joy of having her around to chat with, cook with, shop with, laugh with. I would get to watch her pirouetting around the room, or hear her singing or playing the piano. I would get to enjoy her banter with her brother or the silliness she and my husband often concoct. But what would she get out of the deal?

She would have to postpone her trip to the most perfect place ever. She would have to stay here where diseases and dangerous weather patterns and all sorts of other chaos cause her to suffer.

I am thankful that God heard my prayer, but it was comforting to know in the midst of it, that had He chosen to take her, she would have been in a better place.

I need to leave pretty soon

“OK, see you!” and off my Aspie zoomed to the Tilt-a-Whirl line.

“But I don’t want to go on that ride, again,” his friend called after him. “I need to leave pretty soon.”

“Mom, his friend said he needs to leave pretty soon,” my nine-year-old daughter repeated, concern written on her face.

“Yeah, I know. I wonder why he isn’t going to find his dad and sister.”

“Mom, my brother should be going on the rides his friend wants to go on.”

“Oh, of course, that is what his friend  is trying to say!” I tried to get my son’s attention, but he was already on the ride. So when he got he off that ride, I caught his attention and helped him understand what his friend was trying to communicate.

“Oh! Hey, what ride do you want to go on?” and off the two ran to do what his friend wanted.

Thank goodness for my NT daughter, helping my son and I decode that phrase, which is considered a polite way of speaking in the world of NTs.

While telling this story to a few of my NT friends, they were just like my daughter, realizing what the friend wanted immediately.

Oh, to be able to understand all of those NT half-communiques! I guess this is just another phrase I will have to memorize and watch out for!

He was perishing

Ornery, no reason to behave. We had just gotten back from a vacation in Arizona that my husband and I loved, my daughter thought was pretty good, and my son wished had included Wii, rollercoasters and mini golf.

Facing nothing but school one morning, he looked at me over his bowl of cereal. “Mom, I can’t wait until Grandma takes us to the indoor waterpark this summer.”

“Grandma is not going to take you to an indoor waterpark over the summer when you can swim in the lake at her house. Maybe she will take you to the waterpark in December like she did last year. But I am sure she is not going to take you this summer.”

Grump, mumble, fuss. He was fading fast. December was much too far away for a ten-year-old. Do I tell him about what my husband and I discussed the night before as possibilities for fun this summer? But we hadn’t settled on anything yet. Would my husband be frustrated for setting things in stone by mentioning them to our young man? As anyone with an Aspie knows, a mention of something is tantamount to an iron-clad promise that it will happen.

As the morning went from bad to worse, I realized that my poor boy needed vision. “Hey, do you know what Dad and I thought would be fun to do this summer on the way to Milwaukee?”

He is no longer perishing. He is now planning his every move at one of the Wisconsin Dells waterparks.

Someday he will realize that following God’s vision for his life is the only way to stay fulfilled, not a trip to a waterpark. But God meets us where we are at, and a waterpark is what inspires my son right now to keep fighting the good fight.

Where there is no vision, the people perish, but whoever obeys the law is joyful. Proverbs 29:18a

It’s like it doesn’t exist

Several months ago I was having lunch with some friends, one of whom has ADHD, so has many similar issues to myself. As the four of us were talking, somehow we got onto the subject of disabilities, God, and His ability to heal.

I shared how when I am doing exactly what God wants me to, the disability seems to disappear, but when I am not trusting God, and trying things my own way, my ASD is very apparent.

My ADHD friend’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That is exactly how it is!”

May we all experience our limitations being lifted by God, especially as we celebrate the ultimate lifting of our lives through Christ’s death and resurrection!

Blessed Easter, everyone:)

No bickering in the bathroom!

Overall, they get ready for school pretty well, now. But they both tended to be in the same bathroom brushing their teeth and hair at the same time, right before we needed to fly out the door.

The bathroom is pretty roomy, and they each had their own drawer to hold their toiletries. But the drawers were stacked one on top of the other, so my daughter couldn’t get into her drawer if my son had his opened. Also, they both wanted to do their brushing right next to their drawer so that it was easy to put their things away. As you can imagine, this caused all sorts of drama every morning.

Both wanted to stand in the same place. My daughter would close my son’s drawer so that she could get her things. Then he would close her drawer just to be spiteful. Oh, the joy…

For awhile I tried to encourage just one to be in the bathroom at a time, but if the first person was dilly-dallying, then the second person wouldn’t have enough to time to get ready, so that just upped the drama. Also, my Aspie would complain if he was asked to go first – he didn’t think it was fair that he had to get ready while his sister wasn’t ready yet. But he hated going second, because then he was mad that his sister had accomplished something before him – so that was a no-win situation.

Finally I remembered how, as a kid, I always worked my morning routine so that I could be in the bathroom by myself. And I realized that I still don’t really like to brush my teeth and hair with others around. Why? I don’t know. It just has something to do with the hypersensitivity of having ASD.

So I asked my Aspie if he would like to have space in the tiny bathroom behind the kitchen for his toiletries, so that he can complete his morning routine in peace. He jumped at the idea, and mornings have been smoother than ever, ever since!