Forward Motion

I've been talking in my head for weeks about spiritual gifts, raising little girls, being a young wife, and increasing my milk supply/cup size by drinking Mother's Milk tea on the regular (the illusion of perkiness is what matters here, folk) but instead, I bring to you this little nugget of my life:

Running.

Back up to last Saturday.
I quit my fast, decide I'm special enough to back out of my promises to God. And I'm antsy.
Monday comes along and I tell Eamon "I just need to sweat" (which I follow up with a stern reminder that certain sweaty activities need to wait 'less we end up with Burke Baby number 3).
So while the girls nap I pop in 30 Day Shred and get after it. Strange thing though...I don't die. True story. I lived to tell the tale. As a matter of fact, I hardly broke a sweat. The sad, sad truth of it all, is that it's so much easier for me to work out with 40 pounds off of me that I was working with this time last year. (From post-partum weight until now, I've lost a total of 60 pounds. And I would gain it all back if I could have pizza once a week again. Bet.)
The next morning I woke up sore, but not the dibilating soreness that I'm used to. Sure, I played it up and made Eamon get all the groceries off of the bottom shelves for me, but it really wasn't that bad.
Then, one of my friends posted on facebook that she needs a running buddy. I live like 5 seconds from her so it was kind of a no brainer. The catch- H is flipping super woman. Homegirl runs like 10+ miles a week which is exactly 10+ more miles than I've ran in about 5 years. So there's that.
All week I stay active, stare at Jillian's flexi-Barbie Doll abdomen, make sure I sweat a little (which, by the way is harder than it used to be. Why didn't you skinny people tell me you're freezing ALL THE TIME?!) and kinda dread Friday morning. The morning I said I'd "run" with Hannah. It finally occurs to me, I've never ever ever in my whole life ran without an inhaler. I used to have acute asthma and use 3 different inhalers a day, at least. My body has never ran without steroids in it's lungs. Yes they help, and man did they take away the pain, but I have no idea what my body is actually capable of.

This morning comes, and I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear, it's raining. YESSSSS. Time to stay in bed.
But lo and behold...7:30 rolls around and the rain has subsided. That takes care of that. Let's do this.
I stretch and decide to take a "warm up run" to the farmers market where we are supposed to meet. The first few blocks are up hill, then it's all downhill. Halfway up the hill I start having a hard time. We're talking a few blocks people. But I decide to just go, just push, let's see what I can do today.
I make it to the top of the hill, then feel the freeing, exhilarating feeling of running down hill on a misty morning. I've never actually experienced that. I realize then that I've been keeping my pace with my favorite praise song in my head (couldn't find my ipod) and take the few minutes to enjoy the morning and invite God into my run. And just like that, I was at the Farmer's Market.

By the time my sweaty, still somehow gorgeous at 8 in the morning friend gets there she says "Oh, I've already run 3 miles, but I could do another if you want."

Oh. right. You already did three. I did...what, 5 blocks...that's like...at least five miles. Psh. Easy.

As to not look like a wimp, I take her up. My run there was great. I felt good. And just like any great 90s sitcom, I all of a sudden can't run. My calf starts seizing up on me and this spritely gazelle in front of me sees past the gorgeous, ambiguously mixed race goddess, and sees the frizzy headed 7th grader complaining to her basketball coach that "It Hurts." Thanks calves. Traitors.

So I go around the block with her and take the walk of shame limping home.
Loser.

Oh, but don't worry, once I got on my street I made sure to sprint the last few blocks home,  I also laid out in my front yard, did some of my best yoga cool down moves, and some bicycle crunches so, you know, everyone would think I was doing that the whole time. Chumps.

Rewind again to Thursday. Eamon is trying his hardest to sweetly tell me how foolish I am for quitting my fast because it was hard. The fasting part wasn't hard, but the not getting any business, not being able to stay in touch with my friends, not feeling supported (read, not having someone cheer for me every time I didn't log on to facebook and tell me how awesome I am). Forget the fact that instead of wasting time I've been digging deep into my photography craft. Instead of scrolling through friends that I've hid on fb because I am jealous of their lives, stirring up bitterness in my heart, I am more familiar with the map of my Bible. Forget the fact that instead of thinking in status updates and concerning myself with why I didn't get more "likes" for the clearly hilarious comment I left on someone's picture, I have actually caught myself praying, or worshiping our Savior without knowing it.

As I sat down to write this, I realized that this fast has been like my first run without an inhaler.
I'd never done something like that before. I was so excited to see how far I could push my body, to defy what I thought my lungs were capable of, and fool myself into thinking I wasn't going to smack myself in my face with my boobs. I was eager to see what my body could do without those helpful steroids. But my soul...my soul I've kept more guarded. Instead of nurturing an eagerness to push my spiritual limits, I was content with the help of those steroids. I wanted that '"feel good fast." The one where, since your fasting, you and all of your friends become closer, you get a raise, and you never have a bad hair day. You're encouraged by all of these good things that forward motion is easy. Your lungs never burn, your calves never seize up.


A few hours ago I checked my "Map My Run" website, knowing that I didn't actually finish the route that I'd planned for that morning. Mapping what I ran and walked back [not including the block that I totally failed at being impressive with my friend] and it was a mile and a half! Not bad, right?! Then I mapped just what I ran... Three quarters of a mile! Half of that was uphill! I can't remember when I ran .75 miles consecutively, let alone without my inhaler.

Needless to say, I am continuing [possibly starting over] my fast.

Here's something else I've been "digging into" (boooo! ;] )

Hopefully this fall we will have sweet potatoes!
Hope you all have a great Father's Day weekend.

XO,
Mae

"With Wisdom, Power, & Love"

*All that is discussed in this post is not to bring attention to us. No pity is being requested, only reverence for our Soveriegn Lord.

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was going on a fast.
As we loaded up the car to go to Rockport, I told Eamon we should pray about what things in our lives we should be giving up in order to spend more time with Jesus. I knew immediately that facebook had once again started to cloud up my mind, consuming more of my thoughts than prayers, and carrying weight in my heart that should be Jesus'.
The night before my fast I sat with my bible, journal and a cup of tea meditating on what this fast would look like. I decided to give up sugar for 40 days as well since fasting from food is so biblical [and selfishly because after a year of not eating dairy [of absolutely any kind], eggs, and wheat, giving up sugar for 40 days shouldn't really be a big deal.] As I sat on the porch thinking about all of this, one thing kept popping in my mind "Satan will make this hard for you, but I will be there." I had visions of Eamon and I fighting, of empty wallets, of an ER trip, and of me writing in my journal. It seemed very...small, looking back on it. Like I had an attitude of arrogance that *I* can overcome it, that *I* was going to be strong enough to get through it. To stick through my fast without wavering seemed to be the real goal in my head.
The first day of my fast Eamon and I fought like we never have before. And the second day. And the third day. On the third day, being completely sick of the emotional turmoil in our home, I spent time with Jesus in the morning to bring clarity and favor into mine and Eamon's communication. It was going well, until my genius toddler stuck a bobby pin up her nose and got it stuck. So off to the ER I went. An xray and hour and a half later, the doctors decided a) she swallowed it or b) we're full of crap and it was never up there. So home we went.
By the end of the first week I was very weary. And then financial distress sent me into an extreme bought of worry. All that week and the next we had less than $10 to our name with rent coming just around the corner. Eamon and I hustled and did everything we could to bring in some money, and by God's grace he found enough costumers for the both of us to pay for rent and a week's worth of food in about 4 days. Nothing is too big for him.
*As a side note- When we moved into our new home Eamon and I were making more than enough money to cover the expenses of a home and the bills that go along with it, we wouldn't have moved otherwise. We expected Eamon to get busier as his job was terminated allowing him to work at home, which he has. So it would seem as though we are being irresponsible with our money, but that just isn't the case. What we didn't expect is that my job, which was bringing in twice as much as Eamon on my slowest of month, would come to a screeching halt making me less money per month than I was a year ago when I was half as busy. I only say this because I have been shamed about our financial planning in the past and don't wish to make this post about that.
So week one was spent tearing my family to bits, Week two [and the majority of week three] was spent sulking in the stress of finance. So last night, I was just over it. With my phone being disconnected, and having no way to keep in touch with my friends [and lets face it, if you aren't on facebook, not many people, myself included, go out of their way to see how you are] and still being hungry after dinner, I sent Eamon to the store to get me something to eat for dessert. So there I sat, eating half package of Fig Newman's after binging on facebook, jumping from friend to friend's profile in silent. Catching up on all that I had missed, and not feeling great about it. Eventually I put the cookies down and logged off of facebook and spent the rest of my evening present for my husband.
Not really expecting or wanting anything in particular from this morning's service, I sat through my Care group and had a good time honing my spiritual gift, more so than most weeks, got through the stress of getting Norah to stay in Children's Church, and listened carefully to the sermon. I was hoping that God would interrupt Michael's sermon and give me a word that would be specifically uplifting and encouraging, but didn't get anything.
Our current series is on Worship, so as usual, we end the sermon with a mash up of two worship songs. When the words to "How Great is Our God" came up on the screen I felt conflicted. On one hand I was glad to know the words, on the other it was just that one song that we all know that lost it's meaning a long time ago. So I sang loud as they were playing it in just my key and I didn't have a baby on me to tame. The Lord had my attention. Then they went into "Our God." However you practice your faith, shoot, even if you don't believe, I'm sure you've hear it.
The refrain goes like this:

"Our God(our God) is an awesome God
He reigns(He reigns) from heaven above
With wisdom(with wisdom) pow'r and love
our God is an awesome God"

As soon as the words "He Reigns" came out of my mouth I was overcome with shame and immediate repentance. I couldn't stand on my own knowing how faithless I have been with more Lord. I have acted as if there are limits and boundaries and expectations on where/how/when God can work. I have not given Him credit for sending me to bed each night with a full belly, for clean, growing, healthy children, for a roof over my head that is in every way shape, and form EXACTLY what I prayed for. For loving me deeply in a way that I take for granted daily. I tried my hardest to make the words come out, but Jesus met me where I was and I felt the Holy Spirit with me so intimately, like it hasn't been in a very long time. As I came out of my fog, I was singing "With wisdom, pow'r and love, our God is an awesome God." and though my words may have been indiscernible to the ears around me, they resonated deep within my soul.

While this isn't the most eloquent post I've ever written, I share this with you just because this is my life right now. This is how God, once again, shows me how he will never let me down. I will not cease singing His praises of His sovereignty and divinity over shame and a financial slump. I'm praying you will look past your circumstances to find what Jesus is doing for you.

Summuh Time is Here!

I would have more time to write if I wasn't busy killing all those crickets that I'm sure you've been hearing chirping around here lately. Sheesh, sorry for the absence.

Well.
We went to Rockport, and while we had the least planned of any trip that we've taken down there, we were very busy driving to and from seeing all of our family
In between there, we did get a chance to head out to the beach, just the four of us. It was really nice.

The water was still really cold.
Norah sat at the water's edge and let the waves lap on her legs, the salt water did so good on her skin.

Eamon and Lily combed the beach for sea creatures. I pretended I could see without glasses for as long as I could before I just said screw it. [coincidentally, OR NOT, they broke the next day]

Here are some pictures from our trip! Enjoy!

I don't know how I got such a beautiful family, but I am not complaining!
Have a great three day weekend, y'all.
I'll be back next week to talk about this little fast I've been on.


ps.
Lily keeps telling Norah I have a baby in my belly. Either she has the gift of prophecy, or I've been eating too much.
pps.
I woke up the other day planning for baby number 3 [my works schedule, that sort of thing]
ppps.
I'm in no way shape or form pregnant. But I clearly have the fever.
pppps.
Something's wrong with me.

Boogers & Blooms; How He Loves Me

First of all, I forgot to thank you all for your feedback, love, support, and questions over this post. It's one of the most popular posts I've ever had and have received all sorts of emails, texts, comments, fb messages, you name it, that have all been really humbling. Thank you for allowing us to share this part of our life with you.

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A few weeks ago I was talking to one of my amazingly talented birth photographer friends about a birth she had attended. She told me the story of this mama's little girl and how she had desperately wanted a little sister, so she and her husband told their daughter to pray for it. Soon enough, they were pregnant with their fifth baby. Then, halfway through, they found out this new blessing was going to be a baby girl! So then she gets to the make me bawl my eyes out part. When she calls her kiddos into the room after the delivery she stops big sister and says "This is God's gift to you. God did this for you K because you asked Him. He will always do these things for you when you ask Him."

[fastforward to about 3:40 to see this tear jerking moment]

I am blown away by this mama's ability to give God all the Glory and instill this kind of beauty in her children.
So wanting to steal a piece of this beautiful uniqueness, I decide to have my own deep, tear jerking moment with Lily at bedtime, because, you know, that's how it works. I read to her, lay her down, sing to her, pray for her, and tuck her in. Before I turn off the light I lean in close and say "Lily, you are a special gift from Jesus to me, did you know that? He loves us very much and loves giving us things, and he gave me YOU!" As I'm talking, she's staring at me very intently, and as I finish, she lifts her hand, points her finger...and sticks it straight up my nose.
I couldn't help but laugh and say "Ok, God, I got it, you're a comedian, you got me." He said "These are your children, I have given you a special joy in them, delight in that joy!"

So days go by and I've completely forgotten about all of this. Eamon and the girls woke up early to drive me to a midwifery convention and we're stuck in morning rush hour traffic. Along this particular stretch of highway, the Texas wildflowers are covering everything in sight. It's my favorite time of year.

From the back seat Lily yells "Hey Mama..." 
"Yes, Lily?"
"Those flowers for Lily Burke?"
"What baby?"
"Those flowers! They for Lily Burke because Jesus loves me!!"

I actually turned into a puddle of liquid emotion and gratitude right there.

Jesus has always courted me with sunflowers. I have a tattoo on my ring finger to remind me that I am first Christ's bride and that He loves me in a very special way. He has given me indespensible knowledge while gardening, and pulls me into nature any time He wants me close. I have always loved this part of my relationship with Jesus.

Lily, at the ripe old age of 2 and three quarters years old, had realized that her Father, Creator, First Love, and Friend, not only loves her, but loves her in a way that her mommy and daddy can't, and GIFTS her because of this love.

I am still in awe of just how invested He is in my life. In my growth as a woman, wife, and mother. And I could fall on my face in gratitude that He has chosen to continue His work in my precious daughters.

Hope you are having a great week,
Mae

PS,
we're headed out to see family this weekend, so a major photo dump of my babies in their bathing suits is about to happen ;]

When You've Had A Good Season

Things around the Burke household have been...GREAT.

The girls are growing so close every day. Norah is so adventurous and bright. Lily is so dramatic and loving.
I feel like God's given me all the things I've asked for.
Amazing friends who are close, wise, funny, Godly.
A house that suits all of our needs. We eat out on the porch at least once a day and have friends over to grill...JUST BECAUSE?! Who does that?! ;]
God led us to a church that believes in spiritual gifts and is disciplining their congregation to learn them, humbly practice them, and grow closer to God through them.
My photography schedule has been appropriately busy, despite how many inquiries I never hear back from and yell at God 'WHY DO YOU CURSE ME SO!?" I'll be sharing some big, exciting, amazing, holy sh- is this really happening/it's about time I'm workin meh ACE off over here news with you all about that soon.

aaaand...best of all...

A huge, gigantic, fantastic prayer has been answered.
Eamon had his first day of exclusive self employment today.
Yep. He's done with the kitchen job and doing what God has been perfecting him to do for the past two years. I'm so proud of him. So. Stinking. Proud. Of. Him.
Life is going to change so much with having us both work at home, but we are ready.

I feel like as I'm writing this, there's so much to say. So much that my God has done that I just want to brag about. He is extravagant!! I feel like I "owe it" to my readers to let you know about all the little details and happenings, but things are just good, friends. So good. And it kinda makes me nervous. Life happens in seasons. So what's next? A lull? A chatastrophe? I couldn't tell you.

We will just continue to soak this all up and love all the moments. In the meantime, take a gander at these two sleeping babes. These will most definitely be hanging in the girls room soon ;]

Happy Tuesday friends!

Ass Burgers: An Interview With The Sexiest Aspie I Know

Remember last year when I was all "SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH MY CHILD!!!" and y'all were all "...over-reacting, much?" and I was all "Maybe." Well I also said something that slipped past a few of you, but grabbed others attention.

My husband has A.S. (Asperger's Syndrome, those who have it are affectionately known as "Aspies")

Yes, the crazy genius nerdy children that are constantly in the medical/psychological spotlight recently, actually grow up to be real life human being adults. I know, weird. In fact, some of them are tricky enough to snag hot young thang's, (not unlike myself) wed them, and even procreate. Your mind is blown right now, no?

Well, it's Austism Awarness Month, if you haven't heard (and how couldn't have you?  1 in 88 American children are diagnosed with some disease/disorder/syndrome on the Austism Spectrum) and I'm doing my part by giving you some insight to what the marriage of an Aspie and a me looks like :]

A few months ago I really needed advice about how to get Norah to sleep through the night. She really needed and was ready to be night weaned, I was ready, Lily was ready, our neighbors were ready, shoot, my friends were ready if it got me to shut up about it. But there was one thing I couldn't really discuss with people- Eamon's help. I know how to night wean, I've heard everyone who's been successful with it tell their tale of "Daddy take the night feeding/rocking" and have just smiled and nodded. Why? Because that can't happen in our family. No, my husband isn't a complete a-hole who doesn't want me to get to sleep, but trying to explain to people that when Eamon hears Norah scream 'HOLY GLUTEN FREE CRACKERS, I'M DYING, I NEED BOOBS NOW!!!" at 2-4 in the morning, it causes a very, very different reaction in him than most of their husbands. And the few times I've said "Well, Eamon can't really do that" I've recieved the one eyebrow raised "Ooh...well...good luck (and tell your lazy ass husband to suck it up)" look. It's so cute. Not. And it got to me! So I attempted to make my "lazy ass husband" suffer through a few nights of crying, which caused hallucinations, night terrors, and a general shit week at work due to a fried sympathetic nervous system. Such a good wife, I am. All of this because this has kinda been...a secret. We don't really talk about it. Once you throw something like this out there, all of a sudden I'm "the one who's husband has Asperger's." Sure, I've wanted to pull it out on random d.i.c-youknowwhat's who try to tell my husband facts about knives or cooking like they're so awesome, "Dude, he has Asperger's, you really think he's gonna be wrong about this?!" or when trying to tell other ladies in idle chit chat "No, I mean, really, he doesn't actually HAVE empathy..." it's been the kinda huge pressure on my life. I hate secrets. [If you plan on telling me you're pregnant, you've got six weeks, TOPS to tell every other person I know] 

So finally I brought this "burden" to Eamon. I had spent a night of research "Aspie Marriages" on google, and our outcome looked grim. All those hoes divorced their husbands because they couldn't deal with the differences and didn't make an effort to work towards their communication difficulties. I was pretty freaked out. Through this conversation, I now...have permission, that sounds weird...to talk more openly about how this little Syndrome effects our family.



Question 1:
Eamon Ferris Burke, husband of mine, what is Asperger's Syndrome and how big of a role does it play in your life?

-- "While there are clinical definitions constantly being refined and re-defined, they are primarily diagnostically focused, and aren't much help to the public--it's like telling someone your brother has Down's Syndrome, which means he has an extra chromosome(really helps, huh?).  I would say that it means I am wired radically differently. There are a multitude of factors, which are listed on Wikipedia, the vast majority I experience.  The majority of listed factors are socially related, because most psychologists are not Neuro-Typical, and NT people are very socially oriented.  It's literally like I was born on another planet and sent here in a basket.  I will probably spend a lot of time thinking on it and figure out what it is that ties it all together.  If I were to explain the differences and how my life is different, I'd have to write a 400 page book.

Allow me to be coarse and potentially offensive.  It's the only way I'll ever get to be honest with you.

Aspies are the eccentric geniuses.  Mad scientist types.  The guy who knows every dang thing but how to make friends.  AS people have been part of history, playing such roles as Isaac Newton, Ludwig Beethoven, Thomas Jefferson, Bill Gates, Alfred Hitchcock, Andy Worhol, Bob Dylan, John Nash, Nikola Tesla, and many many others.  There was a woman who said "What would the world be without Autism?  A bunch of people, standing around in caves, talking about their social lives."

I have not been so derailed by a secular revelation as when I found out about AS.  I felt like someone had stolen my identity from me, and whittled me down to a condition.  A basket case, basically!  I got over that. But I wondered why I didn't end up screaming at store clerks or how I got a wife.  A few things played into that, but mostly is the following in order from least to most significant:
1. My father ran a very structured, rigorous household.  This is great for an Aspie--every parenting problem I've seen of people with Aspie kids is because they fundamentally are not able to be as rigid and disciplined as their children are wired to be.
2. I am able to learn things abnormally quickly, adapt, and compute situations quickly.  It is a minor and growing theory of mine that the folks that are known for being crippled by their AS are simply people whose mental capacity is not great enough to continuously crank the machine that is an Aspie mind.  Aspies sometimes grow to suffer from anxiety related disorders, hallucinations, depression, and mental breakdowns.  It is a horrendous amount of work just to function on a normal level as long as there are other people around.  I am blessed with an enormous amount of abstract thinking power and mental muscle.
3. I am not a product of my environment, and I am not a result of biology.  I am a cherished creation of the living God of the Universe, and He made me who I am today, because He saw fit."


Question 2:
So, you must have been vaccinated, fed a poor diet of candy and diet coke, or just a crack baby, that's how you "got" Asperger's, right? Can I get it? Can our kids get it? Is it an STD? If so, I'm screwed. (bu-duhm-psh!)

-- "Nope, my parents were too thoughtful and too poor to afford to pump us full of drugs and feed us factory food.  I have had a few shots of some sort or another when I was a boy, but not a baby or a teen.  We worked for our food, raised our own animals, fed ourselves well, and exercised regularly.  Vaccines causing Autism may seem like a huge problem, but if a vaccine gave me AS, I'm glad it did, I'm in good company. There is a genetic correlation for AS, but since it's mechanism is basically unknown it's cause is unknown as well.  People have had AS for a looooooooong time and it's potentially a critical part of the human race and it's development and management.

Face it, you are reading this in a language maintained for hundreds of years out of thousands of years of cultural formation, projected as a full color illusion on Light Emitting Diodes in a product made out of parts built by robots in every continent, that circulates information from nowhere to nowhere in a series of languages created in the last 30 years, through a network of invisible ideas carried through cables, radio signals and fiber optics, produced by machines that ultimately can only sort positive charge from negative charges, powered by holes in your wall that connect you to a nation-wide web of recently-harnessed energy that is produced by sucking it out of the earth through controlled nuclear activity.

You need us."


Question 3:
Tell me honestly, how have I been handling it? (Please don't point out that I still haven't read any of the books that you told me to...It's taken me 4 months to read Bossypants...)

--"Ok, honesty.

You've done the best I can expect you to do.  You care, you are trying, and you are doing everything you can think of.  None of that is stuff I would ask that you do(care, try, think about it yourself), but it is what makes you, you.

The best thing you can do for an Aspie is to want them around, like them.  One of the foundational aspects of life is that it is meant to be shared, and people, even those that like me, do not seem to prefer my company.  It's not that I feel excluded, but I know I am not considered for many things--and just being considered by you is a big deal for me.  The fact is, I don't want another thing to deal with in public, so I asked you not to tell anyone about this.  But when I saw it was causing you so much trouble to not be able to share and talk about it, I figured I'd give up that thing and deal with it for you, as a gift to you.  I want your life to be as good as it possibly can."

Question 4:
On a scale of 1-10, 1 being the lowest, 10 being the highest, how good am I in the sack? I MEAN....
How do you think your syndrome has effected our marriage? Has understanding it more helped or hurt it in any way?

--"1 and 10.  It's helped and hurt.  For example, I won't tolerate a fight to end without resolution.  That is not always a good thing, but it means we have nothing festering.

The thing is, with a group of friends, I can be the odd man out.  With a musical accompanist, one can be better than the other.  But in a marriage, a Godly marriage, we are two human beings, and our challenge is to bridge a near infinite gap--the gap between you and me.  Between an aspie and an NT person, or a jock and a secretary, or an Atheist and  Muslim, a marriage will never be closer or farther than just shy of infinite. If I am the weird one for thinking a car looks funny, then between you and me, you are just as weird for thinking it doesn't!  It's just you and me, and the worst that can happen is for either of us to start blaming the distance between us as human beings as being caused by some crippling disability and resign ourselves to a lesser knowing.

The people whose blogs you read that got divorced from their Aspie husbands fell victim to the same lies as everyone else--that they deserved better, that they were too different, that there would be someone more naturally compatible, that their problems had no solutions."


Question 5:
Personally, what have been challenges you've faced as an Aspie?

--"Getting out of bed in the morning.

No seriously.  It's non-stop.  The biggest thing to get used to once I found out what Asperger's really is, was getting through my day without hearing the narration of a syndrome in the back of my mind.  It affects everything I do all day, all night, all the time.  It makes everything hard, except for things I am apt at--and those things either I feel to pride or satisfaction in(like reading a book quickly), or are totally unimpressive to others.

Biggest challenge is friendship.

This makes me realize that the true biggest challenge, and the reason I have almost no friends at all, is because I cannot ever let out what is inside me without offending people or gambling on how they will take it.  I have to carefully translate every word and sound that leaves my body, and I am playing with fire any time I open my mouth.  What I want in a friend is someone who lets me be me, and still wants me around."


Question 6:
Everyone has this picture of Aspies, one of them being that pederass from Boston Legal?! WTH is that about?! Usually, some brown curly headed kid with blue eyes that's super smart and kinda rude (Insert Max from Parenthood), what, if anything, do you want or not want associated with A.S.? What do you think that more people should know?

--"It is very annoying to me that every time I try to find anything about AS, it is all for children.  Go ahead, Google "Aspergers crying babies" and see if you can find anyone writing anything about what it does to an Aspie to be in a room with a shrieking banshee of an infant.  Nope, it's all mothers terrified their baby is crying because he's got a brain problem.  Aspies and Autistic people are portrayed as being bleary eyed savants or massive a-holes on television.  The truth is, the internal image of an Aspie is more like Sherlock Holmes or Gregory House than Rain Man or Max Braverman(all autistic-spectrum characters).

The main thing that people should know is that Aspies are specialists, and LOVE helping people.  We can talk all day, learn all day, and share things and innovate...if only given the chance.  If there was a building set up just with booths of Aspies, categorized by topic, and you'd bring them problems to solve, you probably wouldn't even need to pay them."

One, how awesome is my husband? Pretty amazing, amiright? (Ladies, he really is THAT selfless for me, how'd I get so lucky?)
Two, when I gave this to him to read he said "You made so many grammatical errors in this post..." before he said anything else about the actual post, to which I said "...then fix it." BADOW!

Do YOU have any questions? Do you have a kiddo who has A.S. or any other ASD who you are worried might not find "the one"? Shoot, both my girls check out fine (PEE ESS, vitamin D deficiency is linked with speech development delay, which Lily had, and Norah has a severe deficiency in, BOO YA!) and I still worry about that sorta thing. Or did you just know all along and didn't wanna be all "Yo, Mae...there's something weird about your husband, and it's so attractive," don't worry, I understand your hesitation to bring that sort of news to me. I hope you learned a little bit about what Asperger's (not ass burgers) is and isn't :]

Happy Wednesday,
Mae

I Can't Believe You're Mine

Norah's birthday party was on Saturday.
Lily's first birthday was insane. There were at least seven thousand people there. This time we did it up simple and sweet, perfect for my sweet girl.





Hope you all had a fabulous weekend!



Mae