Epic Beginnings

So, here I sit.  Another day done, house a mess and still haven't changed out of my pajamas.  Come to think of it, I never had coffee this morning.  That's a first, and now that I look back upon my day, definitely a last.  As you may have guessed, in my stupor I came across this thing called a "blog".  Frankly, I think they should rename it "black hole" but that's just me.  I figured if everyone else was doing it, why not give it a shot myself and fail miserably.

So, again, here I sit.  I guess the first order of business is to tell you about me and my family.  I am Mama 'Manda.  I am 30 years old, a stay at home mom/big nerd and a Fibromyalgia sufferer.  My husband (for all intensive purposes, being that we haven't gotten hitched yet) is Daddy Chad (DC for short).  He is also 30 years old, bacon bring home-er/big geek and my best friend from high school.  I have two sons from a previous endeavor (okay, I was married).  Kahler is 5 and has non-verbal autism.  Colfax is 3 and is NT with speech delays.

Breaking Dawn premiere.  Yes.  He came willingly.

In case you were wondering, this blog will contain a lot about autism but not so much concerning the conventional ways politically correct people deal with it, hence the term unconditional.  Also, in case it confuses you, Gwee is the sound my son makes most often.  Except when I hear it, it's more of a high-pitched shrill.

I guess you could say that when Kahler was born I was your typical mother doing normal day-to-day-routines. I cleaned, I did laundry, a place for everything and everything in it's place.  Kahler was a sweet baby.  Rarely cried, slept a lot and didn't breastfeed (thank god).  He hit milestones later than most babies but I just figured that was because he was a late bloomer.  It was at about 8 months when I started noticing things were amiss.  He didn't have good eye contact, he's flap his hands and arms and instead of having interest in learning to walk he was more interested in rocking himself sitting on the floor...

...and laughing hysterically.

I distinctly remember the first time someone questioned me about Kahler.  "Are your sure he's not Autistic?"  The person asking was my now ex-mother-in-law (which we will call Evil in a Box or EIAB for short).  Mind you, this is the woman who thought if I lifted my arms above my head while I was pregnant that I would strangle my child with the umbilical cord like a noose.  I believe her exact words were: "Don't come crying to me when you have a dead baby."  Charming, eh?  So naturally, I barked at her and said "Of course not, he's just different.  I went home that day with baby in tow now with a nagging word forever stuck in the back of my head.  Autism.

Things were not progressing like they should and I finally broke down to my now-ex-husband (gambling cheating a-hole, GCA for short) and told him I think we need to have him tested.  We took him to an amazing therapy center a couple towns over and began the process.  It all took a total of 3 months from first appointment to diagnosis.  From what I hear, that length of time is unheard of.  Diagnosis was what I had feared.  Classic Autism.  Usually classic means something you like to hear that reminds you of good days gone by, like classic rock for example.  This was not.  What a pisser.  My life was now interrupted by something I knew nothing about.

Needless to say, my strength outlasted my marriage and thank god it did.  My son deserves better anyway.  He deserves DC.  Anyone should be so lucky.  Kahler wouldn't have had a shot in hell without him.  Yes, I am his mother, but even a mother can't be everything to her child, and even less so if she has another one.  Case in point, my NT son Colfax.  He is hell on wheels with wings and 9 lives.  More if he is showing off.

See?  Told ya.

So, here I sit, now in bed, next to DC watching DVRed episodes of Top Gear.  Well, at least he is watching it.  Baby monitor is on and I can hear the melatonin start to take effect.....or maybe not. ;)