Asperger Syndrome

A couple of weeks ago, Madelle’s therapist brought us in to discuss a thought he had been having for a while.  He showed us all the behavior girls have that point to the old diagnosis of Asperger syndrome.  Part of me was overwhelmed with yet another thing to study and process.  The other part of me was thinking, this fits, but I am not seeing a problem.  I have some of the tendencies!

The counselor talked about the syndrome as more of a list of personality traits that don’t fit with our modern society.  This is the reason they don’t diagnose any more.  He said she wouldn’t be diagnosed with it, but he was going to talk with the psychiatrist about the syndrome.  He also said there was no pill to fix it.  Well, right, a lot of the traits are the things I love about my daughter.  He also leant us the book “Aspiegirls” for Jerry and I to read.  For those of you who know me well, I went out and bought the book to be able to highlight.  And I have been highlighting!!!

My daughter is an aspiegirl.  She will not be diagnosed, because there is nothing to fix.  She is an outside of the box thinker, who speaks the truth, has a unique sensitive side, and is absolutely amazing.  We have to work on how she reacts to issues.  Her meltdowns need a way to be released in a less volatile manner.  She needs to learn how she is different and why others struggle with those differences.  I just wish we could teach the rest of the world along with us!

So, this will be a project for the summer through her therapist and me, with us discussing what we do with Jerry.  It will be a family endeavor.  I am actually kind of excited by it all.  Of course, my poor daughter at the moment doesn’t have any friends that understand her.  She is stuck with us.  Her depression is gone and she longs for a buddy.  She will be going to a two week band camp in town, but that is all for a social outlet. 

We do have some fun things planned.  During our down weeks when we aren’t traveling, I have set up a painted pot day, movie day, water (lake or creek) day, and a trip day.  We want to see Garnet Ghost Town and some other things around the area.  We want to do more training with Leo, the beagle.  She wants to learn how create more in-depth computer programming and work on harder math.  I want to garden, paint, and write.  We are going to be busy.

Along the way, I am going to let my readers also learn.  I will write about the progress we make and the discussions we have.  I will also post pictures of the fun things we do.  I may not be able to teach the world, but I can teach a few people.  I hope a lot of you will come along for the ride.

A Hero, A Storyteller, A Sheriff

 

Three weeks have passed since a very important man in my life departed.  I have thought of him often over the days while working on my writing or in my gardens.  I look back through my childhood and wished I spent more time with him, especially in high school when we moved back to the town he resided in most of his life.  Alas, I was busy chasing boys and he was busy running and working as the Lincoln County Sheriff.  When I left the area for college and my adult life, I saw him at family gatherings, celebrated his 50th Anniversary to his beautiful bride, Shirley, and visited when I could.  I wish it had been more.

As a little girl I remember him as a hero bigger then life.  I mean John Wayne didn't have anything on Uncle Ray.  Now, this story I have of him may be a little embellished, but it is the way I remember it.  One night, my family drove to Libby from Eureka.  I was tired and fell asleep in the car.  Either my mom or dad carried me into Uncle Ray and Aunt Shirley's house and into one of the bedrooms.  I didn't wake up at all.  The next morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.  My stomach rumbled, so I tried to climb out of bed.  I froze in fear.  Laying next to the bed was a black bear.  I scurried to the headboard and waited.  My name was called, but there was no way I was going to let that bear get me.  I worried I might miss breakfast, but the bear worried me more.  I continued to wait.  Finally, my tall, strong uncle filled the doorway.  "There's a bear on the floor," I announced.  He laughed and in two strides came to the bed, stepping on that old bear.  I crawled up into his arms and he took me to the kitchen for breakfast.  My uncle saved me.  From that day forward, I knew he would always protect me.

When I got older, the woods department in northern Lincoln County closed up and sent the workers south.  My dad spent the week in Libby and came home for the weekends.  During the summers, I was blessed to spend every other week with him at the family cabin.  We are talking old Grizzly Adams type cabin without an outhouse, not one of these fancy houses out in the woods people claim are cabins.  That is like saying camping in an RV with television.  Please.  If I had to go pee in the middle of the night, I found a tree.  During the day, we went across the dirt road and through the front yard to my other uncle's house to use their bathroom.  Uncle Albert lived at the bottom flat meadow of the mountain and Uncle Ray lived up on the side of the mountain.  These were my favorite summers.  Many evenings, my uncles, dad, and cousins sat at the dining room table telling stories.  I would lay on the couch on the other side of the half-wall reading a book.  Well, I pretended to read.  I actually listened to all the hunting, logging, farming, and fishing stories.  I fell asleep to their deep voices and laughter.

Tired of being away from the family so much, Dad finally moved us to Libby my freshman year.  My junior year, Uncle Ray ran for sheriff.  I listened to his deep reassuring voice on the radio during the debates.  I was so proud of him.  Now, I knew and liked the current sheriff, but there was no way he would beat Uncle Ray.  I turned 18 before the election, so my first time voting, I marked the box that read Ray Nixon.  Pretty cool.  Even better?  He won.  One story I have, he didn't even really participate in and I don't think I ever told him.  As the class of '87 prepared for graduation, one of my friends was telling me about the Senior Keg.  He bugged me to come.  "Are you kidding?" I scoffed.  "My uncle will throw me in jail."  No, one would doubt that, but my friend had a plan.  "That is why we are crossing the state line.  The party is in Idaho just so we won't get caught by him."  I laughed.  "Do you really think and invisible state line would stop him from picking me up?"  I mean really, this is the man who saved me from a bear!  "I guess you have a point."

I came home that first summer after graduation.  I worked at the local Town Pump during the graveyard shift.  I really don't remember ever being scared working on my own.  My uncle's deputies stopped by nightly.  If I called for help, they were at the store in a matter of minutes.  One of the women complained once that I got preferential treatment because I was the sheriff's niece.  To this day, I don't know if that is the case.  I never asked him if he had the men keep an eye on me.  In all the stories at the dinner table, I learned from the men in my life to respect authority and give them a hand.  You see, any deputy that came into the store received free coffee from me.  If they came after 10, they received the food that would be tossed for the night.  I took care of them and they took care of me.  I smile thinking of the sheriff growling at them to watch for my gray pickup though.

The family information line had said hospice had been brought in to help Uncle Ray.  I had a conference in Kalispell and left a day early to drive home to visit him and the parents.  Seven days before he died, I was blessed to visit him.  He was having a very bad day, which was hard to see my hero struggling.  At one point with the nurse hovering, he looked over at me.  "Lisa, you’re here.  I haven't even talked with you."  I smiled.  "It's okay, Uncle Ray.  I am just happy to be here."  A little later, he looked across the living room and we shared a smile before the pain meds kicked in and he fell asleep.  I will treasure that smile.  I traveled back to my hometown two weeks after I had been there to say my farewell at his funeral.  The minister talked about asking Aunt Shirley and my cousins to say one word that represented Uncle Ray.  My sister turned to me and we each whispered our word for him.  Mine was storyteller, but hero, sheriff, and uncle are right up there with that word.  I obviously will miss my uncle.  But I have to say, I find great comfort knowing the sheriff of Lincoln County is barking orders for deputies and angels to keep on eye on all of us.

2016's Fifth Adventure: Newly Discovered Places

Eighteen years ago, we moved our little family to Helena, Montana.  This gave me the opportunity to travel the Seeley Swan route to Libby, Montana to visit family.  I would say that this is my favorite section of Montana travel, but in reality, I haven't found a favorite.  I love every highway and road I take in Big Sky Country.  However, in my travels with kids, I don't make many, if any, detours.  On this trip, I spontaneously turned right as I traveled through the Condon section of the highway.

I found what I refer to as Pine Alley.  As I drove this section of the three miles, I thought of the famous Oak Alley in Louisiana.  Here is the Montana equivalent.

Continuing up the road, I finally saw Holland Lake.  I have passed the sign over thirty-five times and never visited the picnic area.  I enjoyed shooting some photos.

My destination for the day was Libby to visit my parents, uncle, and grandpa.  In the morning, I went on a little walk.  I thought this was a fun photo opportunity.

The main reason for my trip was to attend an Enlisted State Convention in Kalispell.  Determined to see a new sight in the area, I took the first morning to travel about four miles from town to Lone Pine State Park.  I hiked up and down the small mountainside enjoying the spring flowers and view.

How could I not love Montana?

To Conform or Not Conform

In the past week, a conversation stuck with me.  Everyday, I think back to the words spoken.  I have thought of many ways to write about the discussion, but I have struggled with the direction I wanted to take until this morning the first thing I thought about was how I wanted to proceed with the writing. 

My daughter is a self proclaimed geek with a sprinkling of nerd.  For myself, I interchange the two words continuously, but she has definitions for them.  Being a good mom, in her early years, I signed her up for Girl Scouts, theater, soccer, basketball, volleyball, and softball.  I asked to sign her up for dance, but that was taking my activity arrangement way too far for her.  She isn't a girly, girl.  She tried the other activities.  All sports fell out except softball.  She stayed with theater for a year and a half, but a girl bullied her, so I dropped that activity for her.  With Girl Scouts, I encouraged her to stay through grade school.  In her first school, she was criticized for these activities and fell into her depression partly because I "forced" her to be in activities that she didn't like. 

When her life blew up, she quite everything.  She was done trying to fit into all the groups without success.  She decided to hell with what other people want.  She tried that gig all of her short life and continued to be ridiculed.  She tried to be polite and nice only to be told she was wrong and stupid.  Last year she became callous and angry.  I couldn't blame her.  I was pretty angry myself.  Her and I both retreated to the safety of our home.

With her meds working, she is starting to thrive in all areas but friendship.  She has no friends and loneliness is making her miserable.  She loves to play video games, lift weights, play D&D, listen to rock music, watch YouTube, and watch Anime.  She is playing with being a You Tuber and loves all things technical.  She writes and draws.  The saxophone is also a major passion in her life.  With all of these interests, she hasn't found anyone to hangout with who has a couple of the same enjoyments.

During the day, she walks the hallways alone.  On weekends, she has to hang out with her parents.  She has invited people over with a small amount of success.  She has tried to get invited to do things with others, but there are tons of excuses thrown at her.  No one has been rude enough to say that they don't want her to come, but she gets the idea.  She has put herself out there and been disappointed.

Now, I was speaking to an adult about her situation.  Their advise was for Madelle to change her interests to match those around her.  Really?  Would you tell a person who is gay to get back into the closet because they aren't fitting in with an entire class of heterosexuals?  I wanted to scream that we tried that route.  Madelle lost herself for years being ridiculed for trying it the conventional way.  She is done trying to please the world.  She is done changing for rude people.

And I get it.  I am also different.  I am a military, redneck, Catholic, college degree, gardener, writer, crafter, gun appreciator, who gets a lot of weird looks.  In fact just the other day I was with my Bible study group.  For some reason, guns were mentioned.  I, of course, went off about loving to shoot.  One of the women has never shot before.  We looked at each other like we came from different planets.  Fortunately we laughed and went back to the study.  Simple.  Why aren't kids being taught how to do that?  Oh, that's right.  Adults can be just as bad.

About a year and a half ago, I tried to fit into a writing group.  I love to write; they love to write; it should work right?  Nope.  One person ruined the entire setting and the rest let him.  He had self published two or three novels at the 40,000 word count.  The rest of the group drooled over everything he said.  I listened.  We were doing everything the same.  I would try to add to the conversation, but he shut me down.  Finally, the group started reading their work to each other.  With a snide reflection to his voice, he commented on my piece, "this story is so dungeons and dragons."  The last thing he said to me after I mentioned my word count of 116,000 for my novel was, "a novel should only be 40 to 50K."  He went on to say the rest was drivel.  Now, I could have played nice and changed my thinking to match the group.  But why?  I am not in middle school.  He was a bully and I am damn well not putting up with that.  So, I am going it alone.  Is it lonely writing without a writer friend to walk with me.  Yep.  But I am not changing my writing style to match this jerk. 

I don't expect my daughter to kowtow to the group and become someone she isn't.  I have given her a wide variety of activities to form her opinions of how she wants to spend her life.  Instead, I need to teach her how to be strong on her own and conquer the loneliness.  Our personalities don't mess with the populace.    But how do I accomplish that with a middle schooler?  I remember how important friendships were back then.  I was fortunate to find a dear friend in those years though I struggle before my friendship with Patti and I struggled after her.  And really, I will never find a friend as unique as me and now I delight in that knowledge.  I just have to walk the path with Madelle until she can walk with her head held high.  We are not conformists.  We are the innovators who forge the trail.

2016's Fourth Adventure: Grandma Duty

In the past, before Madelle struggled with mental illness, I didn't write any blogs about my children.  At least I don't remember writing any completely about them.  With permission from Madelle, I told parts of her story and the way it affected me.  Well, I do have two other children and my fourth adventure surrounded the oldest.  Last week, Michel and his wife asked me to spend three days with their treasures during their spring break.

On our first day, I found a park in town.  Being older children of various ages, I picked a park to hike, hoping they would all enjoy themselves.  Trees were climbed along with a bank of rocks.  Stones were thrown in the river.  A couple of birds were discovered.  I snapped a bunch of pictures.  Afterward we enjoyed a really nice lunch at Subway.

Our second day, rain impeded a nice walk.  The girls preferred to stay home and play on the trampoline.  I taught the oldest of the kids how to make lefse.  I delight that she loves lefse and was happy to pass down the tradition.  She rolled over one full batch of the potato rounds.  My grandma smiled down at her because she rolls the dough better than I do.

Switching up the last day, I took the kids to the elk foundation.  I loved the stuffed animals.  They delighted in running around looking at all the exhibits.  Once done, we hit the trail.  This time we didn't see any birds, but they enjoyed the water of a nice stream. 

     While I was gone, I missed home.  Three trips in a week and a half were a bit much.  My family was ready for me to come home.  The dog followed me all over the house for a good hour, whining if I disappeared behind a closed door.  I was impressed by the two walking trails in the Missoula area and I look forward to discovering more of them in the future.

An Awkward Old Swan

          Lying in bed this morning, I envisioned a beautiful swan gliding down to the surface of a lake expecting a smooth landing.  As the graceful bird neared the water, her wings began to waver.  In a matter of moments, the feathers and body parts flailed in all directions and the swan somersaulted across the surface, water splashing.  Once the momentum stopped, the swan regained her composure, looking around to see what went wrong.

Growing up, I was a lonely child who watched the world from inside a box.  I speculated on other people's lives and studied them.  As I grew into a teenager, I determined how I wanted my life as an adult and parent.  The world was my classroom, teaching me what type of worker and parent I wanted to be when I entered the world.  After I graduated from high school, I left home with confidence that I would tackle the world, much like a beautiful, graceful swan.  In many ways, I did just that for the first twenty years of my life.  Sure, I had some struggles.  I would then turn into the ornery, stubborn goose to get the job done.  This past year, I have been the squeaker dummy duck trainer for Labrador dogs.  I have been tossed into the water and retrieved back to the bank by the big slobbery dog of life.  Where did I go wrong?

I stopped studying.  As I conquered parenthood, the workplace, and life in general, I didn't pay attention to the relationships of adult children and their parents.  I didn't pay attention to good parents swimming through the deep waters of mental illness.  Thus, when my oldest son introduced me to his fiancé in the middle of my daughter wanting to die, I didn't land in the pond gracefully.  I had never imagined that I would be making trips to the emergency room keeping my baby safe while trying to figure out what it meant to be a mother-in-law.  And frankly, the hospital, therapist, and psychiatrist visits took precedence.

Now with my sick child healing, I have been working on my lack of grace as a new mother-in-law.  I am also facing the title of grandmother.  In the past, I never really thought of that job title either.  My son's beautiful wife gave him four older children to add to the family.  Since I have never paid attention to the dynamic of adult children, daughter-in-laws and step grandchildren, I am left uncertain about my place in this new life I find myself.  I am not prepared.  Fortunately, I love to study.

I have never read a parenting book before the year 2015.  Since then, I have read multiple books about adult children and children with mental illness.  I even found a book about daughters-in-law that I devoured.  I still haven't found one about step grandchildren.  I will keep looking. 

God has graced me with amazing "elders" in my life.  I have a couple of ladies who listen, suggest, guide, and love me through my trials.  My husband has faith filled men in his life who have "been there, done that" and help us know we are not alone.  I keep being reminded that we are all in this pot of messy soup called life.

What have I learned?  …I know nothing.  I am not very good at this stage of my life.  God still loves me as an awkward old swan who messes things up with her children.  Even in all the difficulty, I know I am doing the best I can and I am trying to let God mold me into a new person.  I will also confess, my cantankerous old goose side does get in the way, but you know, I love the old goose in me.  Though I will try to be the swan, with a wing in a cast from the terrible landings, I won't roast the goose.  God made me in all my forms for a reason.  Someday I will know the reason why.  Until then, I will continue to pray and learn.

2016's Third Adventure: Sister Weekend

I am well on my way to making up for last year's travel season of staying home.  In January, I planned a trip to Columbus, Montana to see my sister in March.  We changed the date to the first of April to have a meeting with a travel agent and to attend an antique fair.  Well, the trip ended up being in the middle of spring break.  I finished up with three trips in one week.  Uff da.  I am ready to stay home for a while. 

Now, I am not a shopper by nature, but my sister has this great talent of bringing the spender out in me.  The best part is that she enjoys shopping for the home and unique things.  On our first full day, we hit a couple of home décor places in Billings.  We even shopped for modular homes.  In one of the homes, we envisioned a husband, like the guy from "Sleeping with the Enemy," locking his wife into this kitchen closet.  Inside was a sink and counter, yes, in the closet.  The design was ridiculous.  Of course, we had no intention of buying a home, but we compared designs.  When my son called, I am sure he thought we were up to no good.

After that little jaunt, we drove up to Red Lodge.  I have not stopped in this little town for about twenty-seven years.  This time to get out of the car, I had to tackle a two foot pile of snow.  The fact that this little town was still in the middle of winter did not stop us from visiting a number of stores.  My favorites were a metal works store, a rock store, and an antique store.  Yes, I left with some fun metal Christmas ornaments, a couple of rocks, and old things to make a hanging wind chime for my garden.  We stopped at a tea store as well.  Along the way, we chatted with a few of the colorful locals.  Finally, we ended the day with dinner at Bogart's.  Coconut margaritas were the perfect exclamation mark on the day.  The drive home was beautiful.  I was on a highway I have never traveled before which I am always delighted to experience. 

Yummmmmm!

On our next day, my sister worked in the morning.  I took the opportunity to sleep in and do a little note taking.  Once she came home, we jumped in the car again and drove to Billings for the antique fair.  I had so much fun.  I love looking at rust.  I picked three beautiful pieces.  I want to put the wheel in the ground and plant some small flowers in amongst the spokes.  I have a tall rusted heater that will look adorable with some plants surrounding it.  Finally, the best piece is an old car horn.  That is now torn apart on the kitchen counter because my husband and daughter want to get it working.  So much for that going in the garden!

Isn't this adorable, even in pieces!

I can't wait put this in the new garden.

How many people can say they have a heater in their garden?

After the fair, we went shoe shopping.  I am set for the summer season of hiking.  We also went to Trailhead Spirits.  This is a distillery in the old railroad section of town that the city cleaned up a number of years back.  I remember when I moved to Billings as a bright eyed young woman going off to college.  This section of town was very poor.  Hookers walked the streets.  Of course, the college is a safe distance from the area, but my mother wanted to take me back home when we saw a bum peeing in the doorway of a building in this very area.  Now the section is charming with a number of fun restaurants and such.  In fact, a wedding was being held and we saw the party taking pictures.  At any rate, we had a couple of fun drinks waiting for our dinner across the street.

This reminded me of Christmas and Thanksgiving all rolled together.

Watermelon, vodka, and basil, very refreshing.

The weekend was a huge success even though the meeting with the travel agent was canceled.  We also didn't really talk much about our trip that we plan to take next March.  And now we are planning another get together with a cousin or two the beginning of May.  Hum, my little car and I are going to be taking a few more trips to Yellowstone County.  Or maybe I will take the truck this next time.  I could go shopping again at the metal works store and the antique store.

A little artwork on the streets of Billings.