Mid-CenturyModernMoms

Where's Ringo?

 Abe finally started working at his engineering internship.

Yes, it was supposed to start at the beginning of the summer, but hey, lawyers happen.  But the wording on the forms was all worked out and I signed it and Abe started working there several weeks ago.

Here's a conversation we had about it.

Mom: Who's your boss?

Abe: David.

Mom:  Is there anyone else working in the lab with you?

Abe: Yes, John and Paul

Mom: So where's Ringo?

Abe: (laughs)

Now the reason that this conversation is so amazing to me is that Abe NEVER knows the names of the kids that he goes to school with; he's just not that tuned into them to remember their names.  This is part of his neurological condition.  And he is even giving up several days of computer game time at home to return to school- while classes are NOT in session- in order to go to work at this internship.

I told Rosie about that on the drive home from camp last week and her response was to question whether we were talking about the same kid!

It's so nice to have a success- and I know that he loves it.  He even can explain what he's working on (but then, I know the products and have used them myself).

Slave Labor

Abe is going to be a slave this summer.

Slaves cannot leave an employer or a territory without explicit permission.  This is a true statement that applies to this summer.

Forced labor is defined as "all work or service which is extracted from any person under the menace of any penalty and for which the said person has not offered himself voluntarily".  But this one ISN'T totally true because there was no menace of penalty, even though it certainly wasn't his idea- but he is game for it.

So what am I talking about???

Abe is going to be an unpaid intern at Brookfield Engineering.  This company is in the same town as his boarding school, and his therapist was working hard with this company in order to get them to offer internships to one or two students.  Brookfield normally only gives internships to college students, so this is really going out on a limb for them.  The fact that both of these boys are already 18 allowed their human resources department to okay it.

And the fact that mom uses Brookfield equipment in her lab at work doesn't hurt things either!  The therapist heavily dropped that fact while he was working at convincing the company.

It turns out that Brookfield already has some ties (in some unspecified way) to other people with Aspergers, so the fact of these kids' diagnosis actually didn't hurt the process!

So it's not definite yet.  But Abe may work 20 hours each week there.  The company usually pays its interns, so they are having some trouble working out that these kids CAN'T get paid.  It certainly is payment enough that they are learning to hold down a job, as well as a brownie point for their resumes.  But they may also get some payment in gift cards.  Abe would vote for one from Barnes & Noble.

One thing that Abe is going to have to get used to is dressing nicely- it's all business casual.  So I need to go get him some khakis or Dockers, some shoes that aren't sneakers (that is going to be hard on him) and some more polo shirts.  And he's going to have to make sure that the clothes aren't totally wrinkled.

Oh, mom is just kvelling over the idea.

He's going to take college classes!

I called a mid-year IEP meeting for Abe (18 yo, PDD, ADHD) to discuss his math placement for next year. It took over a month, maybe closer to 2, for the school district to be able to schedule the meeting.  But of course, life hasn't been normal in my family for a long time- neither when I originally asked for the meeting, nor now.  But at least I'm only working part time so, for a change, I have the time to attend the meeting without taking time off.

I had all my ducks lined up in a row.  I had talked to the advocate, and while she wasn't coming with me, she had given me a list of talking points to work from.  But first all of the boarding school staff had to give their reports, as this was also the annual progress report meeting.  I of course jumped in at several points to help people remember why we were REALLY there.

After they all had spoken, I said that it sounded like we all were in agreement that Abe would be well served by taking a class on one of the local college campuses.  Heads were nodding; I had agreement.

So how are we going to make this work?

While, not exactly the story of this book, it's true that the devil (and the problems) are in the details.  The school system said that you couldn't pay for this; I said okay.  What I really wanted was their approval and the concurrence of the boarding school to make this work.

The biggest problem is going to be how to get him to the local campus to actually take the class. I suggested that I leave a car at the boarding school.  They didn't really like this idea, but it started a whole flood of ideas rolling around in their heads- "I remember that we once did...". "there is a train very near Prospect St. (the off-campus house for socially advanced students) and the next stop up the line is the local college", maybe we could do "car therapy"- where the therapist drives him the approx. 15 minutes and charges that as therapy time,.... 

So Abe and I are going to pick a few classes that he would like to take and over the next few months we are all going to figure out how to make this work- and to get him acclimated to this.  I'll probably utilize the advocate for some of this (ka-ching).

But, wow, what a successful IEP (ish) meeting!!  And if Abe settles into BSC, then it's a good choice for a 4 year college, too!

It can't have been easy.....

There's more along the lines of what is going on in my world.

Hubbie came home from the big city hospital with a rod in his broken, tumor-ridden leg.  He seemed pretty weak to me, but hey, what do I know?  He managed to convince the right people at the hospital that he could handle being by himself all day at home.

The next morning, Rosie (15 yo, HS freshman) is enjoying a late sleep-in since her school has turned the schedule into a joke for her since the sophomores have educational assessment testing.

Crash!  Scream!

What a way to have to get out of bed!  Running to find out what just happened to her father!

Guess what?  Mom was right and dad was too weak to be left by himself and still perform all the chores of daily living.  He fell in the shower.

Ewwww!  I can't imagine how it felt for Rosie to have to find her Dad (undressed) in the shower, pick him up and turn off the water.  She didn't want to talk to me about it - and I gave her plenty of opportunity!  Rosie did admit that the past weeks have been a horrible experience for her.

But she did tell at least one friend at school about the experience and she talked about it to her therapist.

I've been really trying hard not to have her dad putting her into a position of responsibility for his care.  But his stubborness scotched that idea.  He's back in the hospital and then going to a rehabilitation center for awhile.  Rosie seemed almost back to normal after she talked to her therapist. 

But then I had to tell Abe the latest news!

.........sigh........

Two Different Kids, Two Different Approaches

This household has had a hell of a week.  Not-so-dear hubbie had been complaining for a month of pains in his leg.  He had even mentioned it to the oncologist who (wrongly) thought that it was not cancer related and told hubbie to go see his GP.  Rosie finally got him to go to the GP, but by then he was in acute pain (probably on pair with childbirth, but that's another story).  GP is going to send him for an X-ray but while waiting for a wheelchair in her office, he ended up in unimaginable pain.  Oops- trip to the Emergency Room instead for pain meds and X-ray there.  Turns out that there are 2 tumors growing in the leg and one them broke the bone and he needs to have surgery as soon as possible.

Okay, but how do I tell the kids?  And how much do I tell them?  I'm especially concerned about telling Abe (18 yo) who is a residential school and has PDD and accompanying emotional issues, and other things.  Rosie is Daddy's little girl at 15.

Hubbie says that he is going to call Rosie and tell her- but I ask him to wait until I'm home, or at least almost home.  But when I walk in the door, it's pretty clear that he had NOT called her. So, I become Sgt. Joe Friday (just the facts, ma'am) and tell her just the facts.

"I want to go to the hospital now".  I had expected this and planned on it, so we gathered some things together and went into town to see him.  Rosie was much better after having seen him, but he was in so much pain that it was scary for her.  She announced that she was sleeping with me in bed that night (okay by me) but I haven't gotten her back into her bed since then!

The next day, Rosie- without ANY prodding or even mentioning it- went to her guidance counselor because she was having a rough day at school.  The guidance counselor helped her a lot and told Rose that she'd talk to Rose's teachers and that the teachers would cut her some slack on home work and assignment due dates.  Since Rosie is very much her mother's daughter, and is very hard on herself about getting work done, this was just what she needed to hear.

Informing Abe, on the other hand, is a much more delicate proposition.  So while hubbie was in the ER, I called his school therapist and ask how I should break the news to him.  It was previously planned that Abe was coming home this weekend, anyway, luckily.  We decide that a call the next morning, with Abe and his therapist at one end, would be the way. 

I worked up a script that moved through the facts and told him that his Dad had his cell phone with him and that Abe could call and talk to him.  Turns out that he had a rough day and he availed himself of some of the supports around him.  Perfect.

When I had both kids together for Shabbat dinner, I told them the news from the surgery (worser and worser) and then we went to visit Dad in the hospital.  Rosie is all hugs when we are there, but once Abe has re-assured himself that Dad is in reasonable shape, he stuck his nose back into his book.  But the next morning at synagogue, the instant he walks through the door, he starts telling people about his dad.

Two different kids, two different approaches, two different attitudes.

Pick a Major, any Major

Abe is my lovable hulk of a son.  He's also PDD, ADHD, NVLD, etc.  And the plan is for him to (hopefully) graduate from High School next June and then attend college one year from now. What college? Neither of us have a clue (although, of course Mom has started doing some research on places).

But before he (we, me) picks a school, there is something very important that Abe, and only Abe, needs to decide.  That would be the type of studies that he wants to concentrate on.  In other words, a major.  Now, he doesn't have to specify a major, but he really needs to think about what sort of work he wants to be doing eventually.  Actually, I already have the answer.  Abe would love to have someone pay him to play video games all day.  And amazingly enough, I've actually heard of a job like that- but I think that it started with a computer science degree or some game writing degree.  If anyone knows anything about it, let me know!!!

But the problem is that while Abe really likes math and science classes, he is not eager to translate that into an idea for the future.  College is a pretty scary thought to him; more so than neurotypical kids.  The residential school that he is at is the first school, EVER, to give him a significant amount of homework and make him do it.  He did have homework at his other schools, but it became too much of a power struggle to get him to do it.  Now, that is someone else's problem- not mine!  He hates the HW, and I don't think that he totally finishes it, but he's making a good effort (I believe).

The first step for most kids on the road to college is taking one of the standardized college tests.  It's not necessary to do this for many schools for kids who have been on IEPs, but his school is having the kids take the SAT.  They are all going to take it together at school, with accomodations.  The test will be given over 2 days and with lots of breaks.  Abe actually does pretty well on standardized tests.  The only part that I'm worried about is the essay section.  Well, we'll see.

Now if only the kid would think about what he really wants to study!

Senior Year

I think I might have mentioned once or ten million times that our school is HORRIBLY disorganized and has a serious problem with communications. It is about to drive me over the edge, dealing with hastily set up meetings, cancelled senior portraits (cancelled 4 times with no upcoming date and no ability to choose any other portrait place), schedules that are always wrong, and teachers that don't even know who are in their classes.

I'm not sure why the school is so disorganized year after year, but it is. Case in point? Last night, fairly late in the evening, an email came to me (not my Senior Son) saying that all seniors were to meet with their guidance counselors at 7:40 this morning. Each counselor had a different part of the building and talked to their seniors for a few minutes about college applications.

The problem was, my son doesn't even go into school until after 9. So he missed the meeting. Did he go and talk to his counselor later on? Of course not. He's a kid with ADHD and is more disorganized than the school, if that's possible.

Another case? I have sent email to the guidance counselor SEVERAL times asking for the school code in order to register my son for the SAT and my daughter for the PSAT. Did she get back to me? Why no. Of course not. So I can't register them. I need the code. I don't have the code. And this counselor is so green that she probably doesn't even realize how important it is for me to get the damn code.

So far, senior year isn't going to well. Oh, my son is doing just fine in his classes, he's doing his homework voluntarily, he's even chosen to walk to school rather than take the SpEd bus. This are all  huge steps in the right direction.

But we have no clue as to what schools he should apply to, or even if he should apply next year. We are considering a gap year. He could use the time to grow up (he's just 16) and be a bit more responsible. Plus, I'm not comfortable about him being far away from his psychopharm and therapist just yet. I think he still needs the support.

He still hasn't taken an SAT prep class. Not that I haven't BEGGED him to take one. Or paid for one that he never showed up to.  He knows he needs the help, but he just can't commit. It's all too difficult for him to be so organized. He wants someone else to take care of this for him. For example, I have spoken to him many times about his essays for college entrance, but he hasn't even thought about them at all. Yes, he'll sit down and polish out a fabulous essay in no time at all. He's a gifted writer. But the fact that he's so cavalier about college entrance freaks me out no end.

He also doesn't seem to be even nominally excited about college. This tells me that a gap year is probably a very good thing, but then next year I'll have two kids applying and that will totally kill me.

Any advice? I'm trying not to helicopter. I don't make decisions for him, nor do I plan ahead for him. He knows that he's responsible for his own future, but at this point I have visions of him being 35 and still living at home. Gak!

The Things That They Never Tell You

I just heard from Abe's therapist.  Remember that he is PDD, NVLD, ADHD, etc and at a residential school that is doing wonders for him.

Whew!  Nothing's wrong. Although in hearing the back story, something definitely WAS wrong.  The part that you need to know before I continue is that Abe is a BIG boy.  At almost 18 yo, he's just about 6 feet tall and weighs (too much) well over 200 pounds.  So when he blows his top, it takes several people to hold calm him down.

On the other hand, Abe can be very gentle and very caring.

Turns out that in his house (dorm) at school there were several kids, who because of their own problems, decided to pick on Abe.  He always reacted appropriately, to a point.  He would ask them to stop, he would go get staff members, it was discussed in the house meetings, but many times it would continue and get to the point where he would blow-up.  Oh no!

Abe has developed a good set of friends at school- because they share a common interest in D&D (Dungeons and Dragons; a role playing game, not on-line). 

Unfortunately, most of these kids lived in another house.  He always came back to his house much happier after being with this other group. And worse, he was a bit depressed (for the last several weeks) after the weekend of being around the kids from his own house constantly.

A bed opened up in the house where the D&D group lived and it was offered to Abe.  After thinking about it some (he is very tied to the current house manager), he took it and -swoop- before anyone could get in any last jabs, Abe was moved to the new house.

Now did he call and tell me this?  Had he told me anything about all of the kids picking on him?  Had I heard about the harassment from anyone at school? (Yes, I know, they were actively working on the issue, but still....)  The answer to these and many more questions is a resounding NO.

When I heard this, I felt so bad for my baby.  But I also felt so good for him that he had been correctly dealing with the problem (most of the time).  Even though he's almost 18 yo, and especially with all of his special needs, he's always going to be my baby.  How can mom take care of his problems if nobody tells you about them?

Nerds Rule!

By Nina

I saw it with my own eyes at every single HS reunion I've attended. The nerdiest most unlikely to "succeed" kids inevitably ended up being the coolest, realest and most interesting ones at the party.

Somehow the mean alpha girls just got meaner and smaller.  The cheerleaders got fat.  The grinds had been ground down by life.  But a lot of the nose picking, pocket protector, AV Squad boys and nerdy girls were the ones who'd cashed out their dot.com businesses and were now pursuing their bliss, sailing sloops around the world, taking on second careers, shepherding foundations, that sort of stuff. Even Marsha Miller, who was so horsey she practically whinnied, had turned into a way-cool art gallery owner in the Bay Area. 

No surprise learning that a high school A-lister like Robby Benjamin went to med school, made a lot of money, retired early to Florida and was proudly wearing his trophy 2nd wife on his arm.  But whoa, let's hear it for Geek-O-Rama Marty Tessler, who went to med school the hard way, after being a Physician's Assistant for 7 years and then chose Emergency Room medicine in a hospital in Queens.  Way to go dude!  You may not be making the big bucks, but you've earned my respect and I bet you feel good looking in the mirror every morning.

So while I wish my own nearly 16-year-old geek in residence had a more robust social life and was feeling a little higher up on the high school food chain, I try to remember that being a tech nerd often means having the last laugh. 

My kid is a tech assistant this summer before he leaves for Israel.  He's helping to install new computers in the new building at his school . . . and he's getting paid for it!  He's enjoying the radical paradigm shift as he works with the school's resident technology staff who are (gasp) Republicans and Libertarians, unlike the mushy skwushy  liberals who teach at his crunchy granola private school.  This week his reputation as a nice reliable kid who knows his way around Macintosh computers landed him an off-site gig at the home of one of the school's two college advisers. There he successfully installed a Wi-Fi network and in the process got on the radar of the person who is going to help him navigate the rocky shoals of college applications.  And he got $100 smackeroos. 

Like I said.  Nerds rule.