If you’re looking for me, I’m busy Googling.
Or, “Asperger’s Syndrome.”
Taking a quiz on Autism Speaks, the only web site my family therapist friend told me to go to (to avoid any Jenny McCarthy craziness, I guess).
We see our doctor this week. We meet with all the evaluators this week. We hopefully get some direction this week.
I won’t lie, I’ve been looking at my son differently the past few days. Watching his blank stares, his obsession with repeating entire conversations verbatim, something I thought was just a quirk.
And maybe it is. I admit to feeling like we’re all to quick to judge quirky. To label something not smack in the middle of normal. At the same time, I don’t want to discount that there could be something going on.
I spoke to my very gentle sister the other day, who said, “Yes, I thought something was up when you visited in January.”
His daycare teachers today said, yes, they’ve wondered, too, what was going on.
Friends, neighbors, family.
The whole world it seems. Except me. I just thought he was Jack, being Jack. Maybe I’m blind. Or I don’t want to see. Or didn’t.
And I admit to feeling a bit betrayed — why didn’t anyone TELL me they thought he was a bit different?
Maybe because he’s just a bit different.I’m still not convinced there is anything going on. I don’t want to use the word “wrong.” But I’m interested to see what everyone says.
And if nothing else, hey, I bet we qualify for the free preschool, which is what we were hoping for anyway. I joked before the evaluations that I was going to keep Jack up all night and feed him Pixie sticks for breakfast, so he would fail the tests. I admit that part of me felt like, oh, I am overreacting, he’ll pass with flying colors. And then we won’t get free preschool and I’ll have to cough up a kidney to pay for it.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to joke, eh? Because right now I just wish they laughed at me when I came in and said, my god, he’s perfect! Which, of course, he is.
At any rate, Thursday. I am just waiting for Thursday.