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Castle Time

Why is it that when you take the car in to a garage the words you never never hear are

Don’t Worry it’s nothing

It’s a cheap fix

It’s sorted and there is no charge

So today the car misbehaved. Took it into the garage and within minutes was told it needs a new ……. and it’s going to cost £XXX

One of the benefits of a spectacularly unreliable and expensive to maintain car is that they seem to have allocated it its own dedicated service team. We can look at it straight away. It will be ready in a couple of hours.

So we had a couple of hours to pass and luckily we were in walking distance of a castle. A fine ruin of a castle.

Pickering Castle was originally built around 1070. It is reasonably well preserved as it missed out on the carnage which was the War of the Roses and the English Civil War. I hoped that this unplanned visit would count against our sons target of 12 new places to visit. Sadly he pointed out the exact date and time of his school visit here 4 years ago.

I always think castles look better in black and white. Brings out their hidden Hammer Horror character.

It was a fun couple of hours as son explained in great detail the history of the castle. It’s linkages to wider English History and the various different structural improvements which have occurred over the years. I added important stuff like cool places for ghosts to hide.

Unfortunately the hours flew by and all too soon it was time to return to the garage. Luckily they still take cheques. That buys a couple of days to keep the bank manager happy. Son helpfully pointed out that a few hundred years ago I could just have raised taxes to pay for it – probably a Poll Tax. That assumes my role would have been Lord and not Peasant. In my all to likely Peasant role I had better start shovelling that muck quicker.

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Alviiiiiin!

I wonder if the cow is even aware of that strange thing in the sky. Should I warn the cow. Probably not – would just think I’m full of hot air.

I think saying stupid or silly things is a release for me. It’s a way of relieving pressure. Diffusing the dark thoughts that can crowd my mind. However that Monty Python in me is often misinterpreted.

He’s a happy soul.

Not a care in the world.

OR

He’s got over things now.

He’s moved on.

That is so far from the truth. Everyday is a struggle. You just have to learn to coexist with Depression and Grief.

I would love to release my inner demons through beautiful paintings or dark soulful poetry. Unfortunately that’s just not me. It doesn’t work for me and the end result is a pile of pants. All it does is bring out my inner Alvin and The Chipmunks. Not sure that would be a box office winner – Alvin and The Grief Trip.

Sorry there I go again.

The point I’m trying to make if Alvin would just let me is that how you appear on the surface is often very different to how you actually feel inside. It doesn’t help that often people don’t want to hear how you really are feeling. They will ask – how are you? They desperately want you to say – fine. And guess what – when you get asked that question your almost preprogrammed to say – I’m ok.

Maybe we should have a deal. From now on let’s all REALLY ask how someone is. When they say fine or ok how about we follow up with – are you really sure. Or I’m here for you I know how tough it can be.

The other part of the deal is when someone takes the time to really ask how you are then be honest. Instead of saying just dandy it is ok to say like shit or not good or I’m struggling. Or if your feeling really brave just say I could really do with a hug.

We all struggle sometimes. Wouldn’t it be a better world if we could all just be a bit more open about that. What do you say Alvin.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 74 Comments

Coordination

Beauty in the sky masked evil intentions. Twenty seconds later a successful bombing run covered my car bonnet. Not so beautiful. The one hand giveth; the other hand taketh away.

Basically I have knackered my body up. Medical advice was to rest the right side for a couple of months. No running. If you play football in the garden – don’t use your right foot to kick. That’s a bit of a problem. During my sporting career the left leg has been a bit of a spectator. It is used for standing on and just getting in the way. Nothing else. So since a toddler I have been completely right footed.

So this garden football season was approached with trepidation. The first attempts confirmed the fears. Absolutely useless. Even the frequent cow audience clearly most unimpressed with my attempted kicks.

But a couple of months later and….

With one hand giveth.

The left leg is like a magicians wand. Better than the right foot ever was. Complete ball control, pinpoint passes, power, curling shots into the top corner of our small net. It just shows that with practice what you can achieve.

But with the other hand taketh.

Now the right side is a little less painful I’ve started using it again and just maybe I could be a natural two footed footballer. Guess what. The right foot is now completely useless. Can’t use it. All my hard work has basically switched me from being completely right footed to completely left footed.

Maybe my brain can only cope with one usable leg.

Son struggles to tie shoe laces. He also can’t use a knife and fork at the same time. He just can’t coordinate two limbs simultaneously. It’s a bit like riding a bike. Son can peddle but not at the same time as steering or braking. If he turns a corner he can’t peddle. He did manage to learn to swim but it doesn’t come naturally. It’s either using his legs or using his arms – not both at the same time.

He has been diagnosed with Dyspraxia which often goes hand in hand with Autism. The bottom line is coordination does not come naturally. We have been doing some exercises to work on this. Jumping on a trampoline and catching at the same time has been our single most fun exercise. We have seen some improvements for example he has developed good catching skills. But things like shoe laces are probably going to be life long issues. We realise this. The main reason we do coordination exercises is to help with his Dyslexia, other improvements are bonuses.

Maybe you just have to accept and work with how your body is setup uniquely for you. Make the best of it. We all can’t be brilliantly coordinated like birds. To fly, aim and poo at the same time. That’s beyond me.

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That’s how it is

Just seems such a waste. Such a beautiful flower and yet it’s in our garden so it only has an audience of two. But that’s how it is.

He is so caring. When his class had the last day in the old school one of the girls cried her eyes out. The only one to go across to her and ask if she was alright was our son. Yet because he is on the spectrum he must be unfeeling and cold…..

He brain is far more powerful than his Old Pops yet somehow I went university and he is seen as being low attainment.

He has a love for scientific enquiry yet that counts for nothing as he can’t accurately hand draw a plant cell structure or spell correctly common science words.

He can create awesome self contained worlds with detailed mythologies, politics and cultures. Yet because he can’t construct a grammatically correct postcard he is written off.

He can forensically debate historical details yet because people assume that he will never read a textbook he is not encouraged to foster that subject love.

The education system has written off his reading as something which won’t develop yet he can read and send texts without help. He is told to just get used to using a reading pen yet today while watching the Justice League he read the sub titles almost perfectly.

He is not part of the in-group of kids who live and breathe football. Yet he can talk for hours about football stats. Relive the sports greatest moments. Can talk for hours about the minutiae of Team setups and tactics.

He can be so relaxed, so astute and so naturally funny. Yet only I see this. It does seem such a waste. But that’s how it is.

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Hill

I don’t know what it is but I love looking at this one field. It just works for me. It also puzzles me – what is on the other side. I have no idea. One day I will check. Is that the best approach?

During the process of getting a diagnosis for our son he had to undertake a number of tests. He would only do them if I did them as well. So by de facto I was assessed as well.

Dad you do know Aspergers can run in the family. Mum’s side probably has. Your side is not so clear except for one person. You.

When I look back at my childhood I was more relaxed when I was on my own. I would often be found apart from the others in my class. I struggled to get my head round bondage language and emotions. Hated physical contact, hated being crammed so close to others. I made friends as I was good at hiding my anxieties. But I never could quite see the world like my friends did. Often seen as the odd but funny one. I was often quiet. I tried to hide a bad stammer which appeared when I felt uncomfortable. My school reports said ‘very shy’ – no I didn’t want people to hear my faulty speech. Initially slow at reading and with appalling spelling. Accident prone and uncoordinated – yet found ways to be good at sport.

All those probably still apply today. Apart from the physical contact phobia – do love a good hug.

So the tests what did they reveal. I remember a therapist telling me

It’s wonderful how you have failed some tests to reassure your son…

Don’t want to disappoint you but I didn’t have to try to fail the tests. It came all too easily for me. Not all the tests but many I did struggle with. I mentioned this to our son’s Clinician. When I told her which tests and how I struggled her take was that it would probably have been enough to trigger a diagnosis. She asked if I wanted to go onto the waiting list for Aspergers Assessment.

But that’s as far as it went. No interest in finding out one way or the other. Waste of valuable NHS resources. Not going to he,p me now. As son would say it’s just who I am. But maybe this is the reason that I have been able to get my head round Aspergers. Partner spotted the Aspergers with our son first but admitted I got my head round it instantly. She struggled. If it allows me to better understand the issues our son faces. That’s good enough for me.

We’ve talked about what’s over the hill. Son think it’s a panoramic view of the Vale. I thinks it the Yorkshire Area 31. A place housing our alien rhubarb technology.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 75 Comments

Horror Show

So our glorious leader Bonkers Boris has held his first cabinet. And it is truly glorious

  • Leadership provided by Bluffer Boris a man sacked multiple times for lying.
  • The person in charge of domestic security was sacked for fibbing about holding clandestine arms deals meetings with a foreign leader. Clearly we all accidentally bump into world leaders on holiday and the subject strays away from the beach talk to weapon deals.
  • The chap in charge of our kids education was sacked (with calls for him to face criminal prosecution) for leaking official secrets.
  • Several of the team would love to bring back hanging and fox hunting.
  • The Foreign Secretary apparently thinks feminists are obnoxious bigots.
  • A transport secretary who has his own private jet.
  • A rich member who thought a dying benefit claimant who was sanctioned for being 4 minutes late for an appointment – should learn the art of timekeeping.
  • Another who has recently been found in to be in contempt of Parliament. Something which seems to be a badge of honour.
  • The person in charge of housing loves the idea of a bedroom tax.
  • A Security Minister who spectacularly cocked up his own Parties Conference security leading to a significant personal data breach for a number of high profile targets.
  • A multi millionaire who claimed expenses of 49p for some milk yet struggled to correctly declare £400000 of outside earnings.
  • Another rich member who thinks people using food banks are not poor.
  • And this obnoxious thing

But we have hope.

In a far off realm a group of brave heroes hold their first shadow cabinet meeting. Ready to come to our countries need in its darkest hour. Modern day King Arthur and his Knights.

Ok one of the heroes clearly keeps falling asleep. But it’s hard work being this good. And not a top hat in sight. I suspect it would be shredded within seconds.

Maybe you have similar heroes who are poised to save your country. I think we all could do with special ones who are beyond reproach and who we can truly believe in. We certainly need a smile at the very least.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 90 Comments

Patience needed

Again a bit of a shout out to the Yorkshire Wildlife. News of my oh so slow mobile phone camera focusing system has got out. Another kindly soul hung upside down long enough for a focus of sorts. Thank you.

As son was happily perched in front of the TV watching a Pokemon movie I took the opportunity to take the pup for a walk. Hence the photo above. It was a short walk, no more than 15 minutes. When I got back home son was not there. Clearly he had gone looking for me. Before I could get out of the door he returned. He has gone looking for me in his bare feet. That indicates the level of the panic attack.

That’s why the school holidays will be based around me and my shadow – or better the other way round. He lets me into his world and that is the coolest thing ever. Now brief solitary dog walks are out then its unlikely we will be separated over the next 6 weeks. I suspect many parents will experience a similar feeling.

Opinions differ on the future. One of his Paediatricians said

“He will eventually grow out of this clinginess. In a few years you will have to face getting your life back on track”

However one of the best clinician I have come across (unusually a caring expert in autism) argued

“He may learn to have a level of independence. However I think the balance of probability is not heading in that direction currently. You should prepare for a life long parenting commitment.” – that was when we had two Parents and two Grannies (now it’s just me)

For me this raises 3 fundamental issues

  • What’s the Plan B if something or when something does happen to me. It’s not a straight forward problem as my brother and sisters are at least 10 years older than me. Practical options are a tad limited.
  • As he gets older the minimal support he gets from the state will disappear. Sadly that’s just how it is. It is not viewed as a priority. Let’s face it – clearly it’s not as important as something like funding tax breaks for the rich. REALLY. As a society we should be better than this.
  • Everyone is different and I have come across examples of wonderful individuals on the spectrum who are successfully keeping down full time jobs. But the evidence suggests that a fundamental problem all too frequently exists. Many on the spectrum struggle to keep down full time jobs. I have seen stats which indicate the Autism unemployment rate can be as high as 85%. Some will be fully dependent on full time help for life. Those parents are unbelievable heroes. I am in complete awe of you and the daily sacrifices you make. I have read a number of Aspergers stories recently of people who have developed levels of independence and who have tried to work. The message was hauntingly similar. Countless jobs started well but they started to struggle with time keeping, office politics, social interactions and multitasking. Office small talk was alien to them and they became isolated. Eventually they became ostracised or the butt of colleague jokes. Employers seemed oblivious to the issues surrounding autism in the workplace. Anxiety and Depression kicked in, sick days started then the job was gone. Cast adrift again in the alien world without any support.

Every person is different. Things can work out well but they can clearly also go badly. I need to get my head around this and start preparations now. This could be a lifetime project. Which brings me to one last thought. Last week someone said to me

“Your still relatively young. It’s such a waste. You just need to get through the next few years then he will have his own life and you can start living yours again.”

Currently that outcome is not part of my plans. Years ago I had personal dreams but now they are gone. They went with my partner. I’m here now to do a wonderful rewarding job and I will give that my best shot. In the end that’s what any decent parent would do.

  • Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 67 Comments

    Wow he’s got a funny shirt on

    Dad are you going out in that T-shirt. I wouldn’t be seen in that.

    The look the cow gave me I think indicated a similar interest in my attire. What is so wrong with a bright yellow T-shirt which has a photo of a reasonably well known TV personality on the front.

    Don’t see a problem myself…..

    On the walk we bumped into a family coming the other way. I had a quick chat with them but quickly realised son had pulled his hood over his head and was basically hiding behind a bush. So we headed off promptly. Social interaction just doesn’t come easily for him. Unplanned encounters just freak him out especially if they involve other kids. He hates the thought that people are looking at him. He hates having to make eye contact. He is never sure how close he should stand. He gets anxious when he has to stand still. He is convinced that only a few people get what he’s talking about.

    I could tell this encounter had bothered him. Possibly he was a little embarrassed. He has spoken in the past about being a little ashamed that he could not handle chance meetings more confidently. All you can do is reassure him and tell him to be just himself. Being himself is just perfect. Counselling was having a bit of a positive impact on his confidence but that has dried up now. We work on breathing and anxiety control techniques. Occasionally I try to get him into carefully controlled new situations. The Holy Grail would be a club in one of his interests areas.

    Hopefully one day he will realise that most of us are like this somedays. It’s called being human. But it’s now time to get him smiling.

    “I hadn’t realised my shirt was so embarrassing that you didn’t want to be seen with me. Clearly it’s not a cool look. Good job they didn’t see my Peppa Pig pants”

    Tell me you haven’t.

    I think my smile gave the fib away and he started laughing.

    Do you think they noticed anything unusual about me.

    No too busy thinking what a pillock your Dad looked like. Shall we go home and see if we can find a couple of cider ice lollies.

    I suspect we will be on lockdown at home for a while now. That’s cool. It’s what he probably needs at the moment. And anyway who needs the outside world. We have a trampoline, we have a football goal, we have a DVD player, we have a Peppa Pig DVD (maybe scrap that one), we have jelly and we have our imaginations. What more do we need.

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    Garibaldi

    When I was a kid I loved a Garibaldi biscuit. Not had one in years. Sorry rubbish connection but beyond tired at present.

    It’s been one of those days. Constant motion. Housework, Pre School Routine, Work, Dinner, Work. Lots of action, no sitting down yet achieving absolutely nothing. Even the dog walk up the hill lane just seemed to take longer today. The days culmination was forgetting about tomorrow’s school uniform. So panic washing cycle started at 11.30pm. Waiting for it to finish now. Then we are going to crank up the Tumble Dryer to its highest setting – equivalent to splitting the atom. Hoping I will get a semi dry uniform to iron by 2am. It’s been one of those days…..

    Anyway back to my rubbish connection.

    When we went to see Kiss the support act was a performance painter called David Garibaldi. Have to say he is definitely gifted. Frankly it’s just showing off just a bit too much when you can paint Elton John brilliantly, before a Rocket Man finishes and doing the painting upside down. But seriously the guy is a genius.

    “Dad he could do my bedroom like a modern Sistine Chapel during one Spongebob episode. It’s taken you a year and it’s still resembles a building site.”

    I bet Garibaldi isn’t trying to paint a masterpiece at 1am while he waits for what’s left of a school uniform to dry. But maybe the secret is to take the painters approach to time management. Pick a song then try to finish the painting job before it finishes. I wonder if that could work with housework and washing.

    Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 54 Comments

    Blinkered

    All the days I have walked the same path. Seen the same views in differing weather conditions. Yet I’ve been blinkered. Walking through a small wood and always looking straight ahead at the path leading out of the trees. If I only had stopped looked right and peered through the trees I would have seen this small pond. Yesterday I did that. Then throwing caution to the wind I looked left. Another pond.

    Yesterday was a day of revelations. I was sat in the living room pondering life and death when I suddenly noticed something that I had completely missed. Before the world change we were like most couples. All of our possessions just merged together. Her 80s dance CDs would be intermixed with my Heavy Metal discs. Her historical drama DVDs would be randomly mixed up with my Sci Fi ones. Apart from clothes our stuff just randomly lived together.

    Now she is gone and yesterday I realised the order of things has changed. Now we have separate piles. Her CDs in one near pile, mine in another. Her books in one book case, mine in a separate one. When I’ve used her stuff I have filed it neatly back with her pile. A repeated pattern. Her stuff, then the stuff we bought together then my stuff. Perfectly split.

    Bizarre. Why? This is purely down to me yet it’s completely out of character. The most disorganised and random person going. Probably more than ever and yet suddenly items are being put in order. I hadn’t even realised I was doing it. Blinkered again.