When I announced I was doing NaNoWriMo this year, one of my dear writer friends asked me whether I’d still keep up with the blog. Blithely I replied, “Of course!”

More the fool I.

In addition to my 15,000-plus words, however, I have kept up with life, which involved:

• several court hearings, most of which went well, including one divorce master’s result that surprised me how well it went
• a meeting with the Captain’s school support team, when we agreed(!) that the current main issue was his inability to retrieve homework he’d actually done, but was getting zeroes on because he couldn’t find it. We decided to permit him an aide for the fifteen minutes before school to help him get his locker and homework organized so he could turn it in and get credit.
• sponsoring Dr. Do-Bee-Do to intramural volleyball, where he can have a chance to excel that’s not inhibited by his autistic siblings. We’ll all go next weekend to the tournament and cheer him on.
• Deciding not to attend the yearly “Bar Prom,” an event that surely one day long ago was designed for the purposes of showing off all the attorneys’ trophy wives with black tie fancitude, but now is just an excuse for the Bar to get together and talk about things that don’t matter and play music from an era we don’t enjoy, in a room that’s too small and too loud. As much as the Cabana Boy remains a delightful trophy accompaniment, even he made the wise decision to stay home and take that time to relax. Go us!
• Watching the premiere of the new/old series “V”, a story of alien invasion we watched when it came out in the 1980s. B has been called a lizard baby ever since then by her sisters–watching it in reruns, I watched to see if there was a resemblance, but I just couldn’t find it.
• Finally, we enjoyed a number of Little Miss’s triumphs, mischievous and naughty sister sibling behavior (at last!), and interesting observations and phrasings, as when we were listening to some Moody Blues tunes, and she asked her father to change the music to “something with snappy fingers.”  Right on.

And now, back to the novel. As they say at NaNo headquarters, when you stop writing, a fairy dies. 

Of all the corpses I’d seen in six years as a news reporter, Lily Kimball’s hit me the hardest.

This is the opening line of my 2009 NaNovel–like it?

Yes, National Novel Writing Month is ON! Sign-ups are still being taken on site, so if you’ve got a novel in you that you’ve always wanted to get down on paper, take the challenge. Now.

I’ve been holding off on this real hard all the last week until yesterday, when the writing could legally begin, so I seriously spewed forth copy yesterday, over 2000 words!

The story is written in first person, something I don’t normally do, so that’s switching me up a bit. You get a lot closer to your character that way; I expect she won’t be able to hide much from me, either. So far, so good. Look out vampires, here I come.

I missed the local write-in yesterday, but I’ve got another set for Wednesday afternoon. A writer friend and I are getting together for an hour or two of mad typing on our current projects. I need to get ahead, as I may have family coming in Thanksgiving week, and I want to get as much of that 50,000 words done in advance.

That being said, I’m off to write some more! AVANTI!

This was a weekend of women.

I drove, with my younger sister M, to see K and her girlfriends in Asheville. We stayed at their new apartment with their new Labrador and their old cat, and their cupboard that contained rice and microwave popcorn. Two chefs. Rice. Microwave popcorn. Unreal.

The first order of business was to get some food in the house, so M and I hit the local farmer’s market, as we’re both on the sustainable agriculture train. She’s the mother of three, one college age and two in secondary school, so when we went to the grocery next, between the two of us, we bought up all kinds of canned and frozen foods so the girls should be set for some time to come, especially since they both eat at the Biltmore at least one meal a day.

We also toured downtown Asheville, grabbing lots of breakfast sunshine, scones and bagels at the Grove Arcade. One little artsy shop had some adorable accent light crabs about a foot across…we both wanted to take one home! (Though they cost more there than at this website…hmm…tourists, anyone?)

After a rousing confrontation with the Biltmore security staff, we took the girls to dinner (including K’s friend N, who had just come from the emergency room under suspicion of swine flu!) at Thai Basil, then K’s roommate S treated us to ice cream at Kilwin’s. If you’ve been there, you’ll know the degree of yummy satisfaction we had. Fudge. Enough said.

Sunday we took the long trip home again, but we diverged along the Blue Ridge Parkway for the first leg of the journey, a trip neither of us had made before.

“A drive down the Blue Ridge Parkway is slow paced and relaxing,” the website says, and that’s very true. For the majority of the part we traveled in North Carolina, the elevation was between 3,000-5,000 feet and curvy as a sidewinding snake. It was Slow-paced or Die, pretty much.

But slowing down allowed us to see many beautiful fall vistas, as the mid-range was definitely at peak autumn color*:

Along the Parkway, we found few places to stop, but we were constantly reminded of the breathtaking nature of…nature. Like the area around Linville Falls:

As always, I enjoyed being on the road, though after taking the Parkway, I did gain a solid appreciation of the modern expressway. All the same, there’s something to be said for taking the back roads, waiting to see what awaits beyond the next corner:

*Thanks to guest photographer M for sharing her photos and a sister-bonding trip.

Yesterday we had a first: Little Miss invited a friend to come play for the day.

For those of you out there with the average 10-year-old girl, this is probably not a big thing. For those of us with a language-inhibited autistic child, it’s monumental. We watched over every part of the day like scientists at The Great Experiment, ready to tweak and readjust as necessary.

Some hands-on moments were necessary, as Little Miss’s friend is in her AS class, and neither of them really have the social skills just yet to handle a full one-on-one day. The friend, bless her, is on the Aspie end of the spectrum and talks almost non-stop. So between the two, that worked out fairly well.  Note to self: some structure and planning go a long way toward improving these visits.

With occasional prompts about being kind to your guest, and reminding the friend to ask Little Miss if she needed help with some of the projects, they went along fine; a mid-day visit to the playground and McDonald’s helped break it up. They even squealed over getting the KidsBop music CD in their lunches and had to listen and sing along on the way home– surprising to me because Little Miss had previously had her heart set on a mini Build-a-Bear. Wow.

By day’s end, the friend was ready to come back tomorrow again and stay. Little Miss was just about overwhelmed and left the dinner table to go spin for twenty minutes. An epsom salts and lavender bath went a long way toward restoring her equilibrium. I asked whether she had a good time and wanted her friend to come another time, or if it was too much. She thought about it a minute, and said she wanted her to come another time.

All in all, a wonderful experiment, and another step toward making Little Miss into a “real girl.”  Not that we’re unhappy with the girl we have–far from it–but every once in awhile we do wish that all our kids could be a little more like their peers, able to experience what other kids do.

On the other hand, for two ten-year-old girls to spend a whole day without a mention of boys, clothes brands or not saying one snippy thing about anyone or anything? Priceless.

Halfway through October, and I’ve finished a first draft of my newest novel manuscript, a women’s fiction story about a downsized lawyer who meets a younger man dying of cancer and how they change each other’s lives. It’s about the longest first draft I’ve ever had at more than 75,000 words. I’m very pleased with it, and also pleased that it’s finished before–

NANOWRIMO!!!  

Yes, the crazy month of writing dangerously begins in only 15 days. I’ve got a story in mind about psychic vampires, since vampires are the flavour du jour, and we’ll see how it goes. I completed the task in 2007, lost my way last year, but this year looks good for a win.  The Erie group is meeting up at Borders November 1 at Millcreek for a Write-In–what a blast!

I’ve also recently won a writing course from nationallyknown teacher Margie Lawson, and I’m very excited about it! I got hold of several of her lecture packets and they are fantastic. I’m taking the two weeks between now and NaNo to bone up on her course on Empowering Character’s Emotions. Very exciting indeed!

I’m also reading, which is supposed to be good for writers as well– C.J. Lyons’ second book, Warning Signs, a medical thriller that has all the best stuff from ER and other medical shows I’ve watched, as well as sampling some Harlequin Blaze titles to see how others write sex. (Yes, Uncle Ed, this means that these manuscripts might actually be worth reading…)

All in all, it looks like a productive holiday season, which is good for me–traditionally a slow time for family law attorneys, since most parents try to hold things together for the benefit of the children for a few weeks.  Nice to have something to look forward to.

So ladies and gentlemen, warm up your word processors and get ready to NaNo!

Why is is that all the chain groceries and other stores are posting signs all over their front windows boasting “LOWER PRICES!” and “20% lower prices!” and “Storewide lower prices” ?  We know for a fact that employee costs have gone up, with the raise in minimum wage and insurance, and the prices of products have also increased with the increase in the price of gas as well as employee costs.

So store are paying more and charging us less?

Doesn’t that cut into their profit margin?

Or is that a belated admission that they had the prices jacked up real high before the economic bad times and were ripping us off hand over fist?

Anyone hear an apology?

No, I didn’t either.

I remembered this week why I quit going to most of my outside groups:  I can’t stop talking about autism.

It’s not intentional. I don’t go to these meetings with the purpose of proselytizing, spreading the Word about the subject. It just happens.

For example, last week I went to a continuing education program on attachment disorders and bonding evaluations. At my table were a couple of attorneys who also work in the children’s dependency field, one of whom is a mother with kids similar in ages to mine.

As the well-known psychologist speaker went through the morning, he talked about how he’d evaluate parents and children who came to him, the different theories of parenting, and some of the equipment he’d use.

He talked about the “Strange Situation,” where a parent takes a young child into a room and then leaves her there; a stranger may then come in to try to comfort the child, before the parent returns.  The child’s reaction to the parent’s leaving and return and to the stranger are all analyzed.

I’ll tell you what–I would have lost all my kids. They never batted an eye when I left them at a sitter’s for work or any other time. They’d have just kept on with what they were doing. I shared this with my friend and she looked at me a little oddly, but nodded.

As we went on the speaker talked about other modes of evaluating how parents and children interact, and he raved about Dr. Greenspan’s Floortime. Now this is one every parent of an autistic child knows–and I had to share that fact. I figured probably the average person on the street wouldn’t have thought of this as “therapy,” and I just wanted them to know. (Even for big kids–see here.)

The same thing happened when he brought out the games he used for older children, like “Imaginiff.” The point of the game is two-fold; to take a given situation and select from a list of answers how another player might respond. Talk about theory of mind! And not only that, in order to get the points for the round, you apparently have to agree with the most other players–double whammy! I was practically babbling incoherently.

Another game he mentioned is called Never Ending Stories. Here players build a story cooperatively with the help of picture cards that direct action, feelings, etc.  For Little Miss, who struggles both with finding her words and working jointly with others on projects, it seemed perfect.

Pleased with my new acquisition of knowledge for the day, I still felt let down as I went home. I know I do the same with family members and most other people with whom I converse–the conversation ALWAYS seems to end up in a discussion of the impact of autism. Even when it’s not an active topic on the horizon, it seems we never escape it.

Maybe this is just a major flaw on my part. Or maybe it’s pervasive with parents of kids with autism. Perseveration, anyone? How do the rest of you keep your social lives intact and apart from this conversation?

This week, I’ve been invited to join the community over at Autisable.com, where bloggers writing about autism are gathered together.  Come by and check it out!

What difference does it make how much you have? What you do not have amounts to much more. — Seneca

The battle of the wills continues with some improvements.

The Captain has duly been given the prescription flavor of the week for ADD. The doctor didn’t even bother to look at all the other possible diagnoses; no pills will fix those. So be it.

The  last time he took ADD meds he developed a series of tics that still surface from time to time today. The doctor said that this new medicine might cause tics as well. Sure enough. Every 15-30 seconds, little vocal tics that sound like he’s gasping for air. This after two days of taking the pills. Is it because the doctor told him he would have tics?  The Cabana Boy and I disagree. I just hope the teachers and students find this distraction an improvement over the previous distraction. This was their call.

After multiple meetings with the school officials about the Captain’s antics, his behavior has improved about 85%. The school absolutely took credit, saying it was because they devised a cool check off chart for his teachers and gave him an aide. Contrarily we took credit for this, since we had come down hard on him by taking away his privileges (i.e., no books, no movies, no tv, no dessert, etc.) and had lectured him at length about proper behavior.

On a whim last week, I congratulated the Captain for his better effort and asked him what he thought had helped him see the light.  His reply? “You took all my stuff away.”

So all these high-priced resources (figure in the hourly rates of one psychiatrist, half a dozen teachers, a psychologist, a principal and a lawyer) were a waste of time, according to his elaboration on the above statement. All he cares about are things.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised. We’ve always known he doesn’t relate socially, and his visit out of town this summer proved his lack of connection to anyone, even family he’s lived with his whole life. (I’ve even wondered if he’s got some bit of reactive attachment disorder, based on his  interaction with people and his history prior to my involvement.) So things it is, as long as that works.

As for myself, however, I find I’m less attached to things as I’ve moved past the half-century mark. I know it alarms my children when I pass on family heirlooms or offer them other household items. No, I’m not dying. I’m just building good feng shui and clearing clutter.

Living with a chronic pain situation, too, creates necessity for new focus, shorter attention spans to fit day by day living. I find that I am much more appreciative of a tasty and creative meal or reviewing a memory book of a favorite family trip than I am of redecorating or moving furniture around (something I used to do constantly).  I’d rather work on writing than waste time on clients with no motivation to change. I’d rather travel and see new places than buy new cars or appliances.

I realize how fortunate I am to have what I need, and to be able to recognize that definition. Sure, there are many opportunities I still dream of, like overseas vacations and maybe even real health care someday. But for now, I’m glad that I can mark my most important possessions as those of intangible proportions like family and love. I hope someday the Captain can get there, too.

I spent some time reviewing this blog the other day, and it reminded me that we started out talking about autism. A couple of years ago, the topic was a huge part of our daily lives, with all the therapies and educational issues and…so much. So many questions. So many answers, not many of which were applicable.

We’d discontinued our last services back in April, and even that had only been for a couple of hours of behavioral consultant a week, just someone keeping us abreast of new exercises to spur Little Miss on in her language development. Her ADD meds have both helped her conversation, her involvement in class, and we’re even starting to see flashes of intuitive and logical deduction. Hurrah.

Ditto Boy has grown away from his brother, so the name may no longer be appropriate; more likely would be Dr. Doo-Be-Do, because his ADD drives him to be constantly singing half under his breath “doo-doo-doo-doo0-doo-doo…” and so on for 20 minutes at a time. Drives me nuts. Keeps him calm. So be it. He’s pursuing some auditory processing therapy at the hospital, but that’s about it. The girls still fight over him. It’s all good.

The first two weeks of school seemed to go swimmingly. Everyone had what they needed to start, new shoes, new teachers, and smiles all around. We should have known doom was about to descend.

A week ago Friday we finally get a call from the new eighth-grade autistic itinerant support teacher. The Captain is totally acting out. Meltdowns. Disgusting body odor. Disgusting body noises and hygiene. Eating boogers, for heaven’s sake. Not doing his class work. Not doing his homework. Disturbing the conduct of every single class. Not only are they posting him the aide we specifically denied in his IEP, now they want us to get him a TSS full time AND take him for a psych eval. They’re throwing around dozens of acronyms–ADD, HD, ODD, you name it.

What?

Every day he’s come home telling us he had a great day.

Man.

Of course, the first thing we did was address it with him and go back to the same routine that we’ve done since third grade: the natural consequences of your behavior are since you are distracted from what’s required of you by tv, movies, books, Wii, etc., then you will not have these things. You can earn them back into your life by controlling your behavior. Because we’ve seen you do it. We know you can. You are a big boy and you do not need a babysitter within smacking distance all day during your school day. (And you sure won’t have one, when you graduate and have to get a job in 4 years). All the time, it feels like we’re the ones being punished.

So back to the autism/Asperger’s grind.  Managed to get him the psych eval and they’re starting him on ADD meds too (hopefully without the head-jerking tics this time) hoping to get him back on task. So I’m the only one not on speed. At my age, I’m slowing down enough that hopefully we’ll all meet in the middle.

Let’s hope that quick action has derailed the misbehavior train and we can move ahead. But there were several months where, besides a few usual adjustments for sensory issues, etc., we didn’t even have to think about the word autism. Not a cure, mind you, but an adjustment to accept the children as they are, which on the whole, isn’t thoroughly different from the variations of the neurotypical child population. There are many shades in a rainbow, and aquamarine and cranberry aren’t any less valuable than blue and red–and might just be more interesting in the long run.

As I’ve said before, I’m kind of a news hound. I update my world on CNN.com and other quickie sources several times a day, just to stay on top of things. When you do that, you get a lot of “popular” news, i.e., what people are searching for–mostly gossip.

One result of my scanning is that I often run across the same subjects time and again, subjects I never wanted to know about in the first place and certainly wouldn’t miss off my radar. Here, in my opinion, are the worst offenders, in no particular order:

10. Fox News — Major network news is expected to be neutral. If you’re going to slant things this far, be honest. Call yourself the conservative mouthpiece of America.

9. The Olsen twins– like all kids, they grew up.  Just with more money than the rest of us. Let them spend it in peace.

8. Ditto Paris Hilton. No one cares about your movies or your lady parts. Really.

7. The Octo-mom. If they give her a reality show they are absolutely going to justify her bad choices. Leave her to Children’s Services, because in the long run that’s where she’s going to end up.

6. Any person named Kardashian.

5. Big Brother and all those other reality shows where people get thrown together and rewarded for backstabbing, manipulating and sleeping around. One of our local attorney’s daughters was on one of those shows, and her slutty infidelity to her boyfriend was revealed for all to see. All he could do was talk about how proud he was of her to get such a great break. Ugh.

4. People who steadfastly believe that we have done nothing to permanently damage this planet’s air, water, soil and living conditions. Whether we’re talking about today, tomorrow or The Day After Tomorrow, clearly what we’ve consumed and ruined will catch up with us.  Wouldn’t it be nice to be dealing with it now instead of later?

3. Government by whoever can scream louder. (Except those British Parliament sessions. Because they’re adorable.)

2. Kanye West. For so many reasons.

1. Jon or Kate or any of the Eight. Seriously. Raising a family is hard. Going through a divorce is hard. No one needs to do either in front of a television camera. Ever.