him being able to combine his professional self with the part of being a dad has resulted in him having tremendous insight into families and the individual roles of family members and how these shift, change, are being redefined after the autism diagnosis.

i am reading a few blogs about autism, among them flapiness is because of a personal experience 12 years ago that has never let me go.

back then i was 18 and working as an au pair. the boy in my first host family was (prior to my arrival) described as “having difficulties with learning” but never did the parents mention any diagnosis. when i arrived and saw M on my first morning stimming in front of the computer my first thought was “oh my god, it’s rain man”. now, i know how bad this sounds but you have to keep in mind that i was never told what was really going on with M and the only thing i could relate his behavior to was the movie. and did i mention that i was 18 and looking at 12 months of caring for a boy with a disorder i had no clue about?

my mom sent me a little book (which took 4 weeks to arrive…mail was slow and 9/11 didn’t exactly speed things up) and in the meantime i got to know M and his behavior. i really came to love him and i was so thankful for his therapist he saw once a week who included me in the sessions and explained some of the behavior and what i could do. it wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t (looking back) nearly enough and i made so many mistakes. but the parents were barely there. the mom was always around the girl (2 years younger than M) and would basically ignore M and the dad would have a very strict and structured approach to M’s tasks and behaviors. there was a lot of tension in the house, and a lot of cold. it was very emotionless. to this day i remember how strange i thought it was that the parents never held hands, never kissed (not even a peck on the cheek), that there was no love in that house – just an atmosphere of functioning.

i eventually ended up rematching because i never clicked with the host parents. i didn’t understand them and felt like they had no interest in me, despite me clearly stating in my application that i wanted to be with a family who was looking to include the au pair. i felt like i didn’t get what i thought i would and also working with M was tough – managable but tough. i remember one of my friends said that whenever she sat next to M she got nervous because he made her nervous. she didn’t know how to handle his stimming at all (whereas i was able to see beyond that). so i know i was patient and really tried with M but i ultimately rematched because of the parents.

now back to dr naseef and his talk. he made me realize what my host parents went through. they had a first  born, a boy, a perfectly cute baby and two years later a girl, a perfect match. and suddenly all their hopes and dreams are taken away by a diagnosis of asd – autism spectrum disorder (they did know the diagnosis, just preferred not to share it with me until about a month into my stay, long after i knew what was going on). for many families the grief and anger and bitterness and disappointment over the diagnosis eventually changes into acceptance. at dr naseef’s talk i realized that my host parents were still stuck in the grieving stage. they were so affected by the diagnosis that their relationship was just a shell, their family life was just a shell. whenever i thought (or said to friends) that they are fake they were indeed just playing their “outside role” for no one really knew how they felt on the inside. and sadly enough they as a couple were not able to confide in each other. they fought their own battles, stuck in grief.

with dr naseefs words spinning in my head i feel very sorry for my host family. not because of asd but because they didn’t have the tools and/or the help to overcome the burden of the diagnosis and look ahead. the mom projected her hopes and aspirations onto the girl (who is now going to the same college mom went to and doing the same sports mom did – yeah, i googled…lol) whereas M stayed behind.

i feel sorry for thinking many bad thoughts and for the bad things i said about them without understanding what they are going through. if i had known i may have been able to make it work. but then again i think we still weren’t compatible but i may have pulled through for the kids’ sake.

now, they were mean to me. they told me i wasn’t welcome in their church anymore (which up until that point i had attended with them most sundays, i even attended choir practice sometimes), and i was cut out from any other family activities (not that there were many to begin with). i was communicated with via post-it notes and they made me pay for food they bought for me (eg they asked me if i wanted to put anything on the grocery list, i said apples would be nice, they’d take that off my 139$ weekly pay check).

while i still remember how all this meanness hurt me i now understand a little bit about the pain they were going through.

sometimes life comes full circle and it had to take 12 years for this circle to close.

franzi

sure, i can look up online how my dream could be interpreted but i am really more wondering why my brain is putting these things together in such a bizarre way.

for example, one dream was of baby hippos in their pool. but they were HUGE baby hippos. they were larger than the grown up ones but i knew they were babies. and i was looking down on them and we were speaking “hippo” with each

other. told you it was bizarre! and then the hippos smiled at me with big teeth, those

round ones kind of from cartoons. a little like in this picture. anyways, the hippos smiled, i smiled, maybe they even made a sound and then i woke up, utterly confused.

the other dream i had two nights ago was of me being proposed to. except that it didn’t really happen because he never got around to popping the question. i was led into a garage looking building (concrete walls, nothing fancy) and there were a bunch of people, mostly chinese (i have no idea either…) and my special someone started off by saying something and acting in a way that i got the “oh my god, is this happening?!”-feeling. and then this chinese dude took over, led me around the room, and talked to me about something i don’t remember. then there was this female opera singer who either sang “all you need is love” or “love is in the air” – i swear i heard a song that was a mix of both. she sang pretty well for what i remember. anyways, by the time the chinese was done (and i had thoroughly wondered why all the other chinese were there – about 30 or so), i was led back to my special someone thinking this is it and he was hunched over a motorcycle and started telling me all about the special features of that bike and “look here” and “look there” and eventually it dawned on me that he had forgotten that this was a proposal. or maybe it never was supposed to be one in the first place and i just misinterpreted the whole situation (which i didn’t, he gave very straightforward clues). i woke up when he started talking about the lights on the bike.

so what do you do when you wake up from a proposal dream? right, interpret! and of course i told my special someone. this was too good to pass on.  i noticed that i felt disappointed that the dream had this weird twist to it – for once i dream something like this and then there’s no actual question??? no ring? mh… not sure what to make of it.

school’s busy right now (crunch time, last 4 weeks in the semester) and i’m sure that’s part of my mind racing, trying to file away all the readings i had to do and the work and what not.

but i didn’t read about hippos and i did not read about proposals or rings, heck, i didn’t even watch the bachelor!

dreams are a weird thing.

franzi

i am getting my master in international education (it’s my second master after having been out working for 5 years) and this semester i am taking a class on equity and equality in education, cranking out a paper or research proposal that covers an equity issue and explores how education plays a roll. it’s all pretty abstract, i know. i’m writing on children affected by hiv/aids and their limited educational opportunities. ultimately, the goal is to come up with a solution that would keep these kids in school thus enabling them to get a (better) education. every year in school helps.

the other class i take is on training design. ever participated in a workshop or a training? this class is about learning how to write a training manual and how to deliver that training. my training, albeit in a fictional setting, is for college kids who will intern in a country with a high hiv/aids prevalence rate. if you see a pattern you’re smart! i thought writing up the training manual would be an easy thing but it actually does take quite some time and with such a sensitive topic you can’t just schedule any funny group activity. participants have to trust each other first before even approaching the delicate topic of hiv/aids and personal behavior.

the third class i take (yes, i’m full-time) i program evaluation and that’s pretty straight forward: i am evaluating a project using tools and ways to think that i am learning in the class.

it’s a pretty hands on semester compared to the last but nevertheless challenging albeit in a different way. i have to think a lot more creatively and i love that. at the same time it feels like there is less rules, more wiggle room and that can lead to feeling a little lost in the assignments.

i love being back in school and i love the fact that after each class my head is spinning with ideas, questions, challenges to my way of thinking. i don’t love the fact that i have basically no income but i knew that going into this. it’s just amazing how used you get to having a pay check every month that allows you to have spending money. it’s a good thing i started to downsize way before i moved over here. i changed my spending and shopping habits, i looked at my needs vs wants when it came to purchases and that is helping me now. i find it important to be able to make that distinction especially when living on a budget. don’t get me wrong, i don’t have to sleep under the bridge or starve thanks to my amazing special someone. but if it wasn’t for him i would have a very hard time making ends meet. living in the nation’s capital is an expensive endeavor.

anyways, i don’t want to mope around, i just wanted to tell you what i am currently working on and why i am procrastinating hey, it’s spring break, being a slug is somewhat allowed.

franzi

the big 3-0 has been looming over my head basically since i turned 29 because, hey, what’s after that?!?! right. so i had about a year to wonder about what it would feel like to be in my thirties…and a year to ponder if i wanted to curl up under my bed covers and wish for the day to pass by quickly or if i wanted to celebrate in style. alternative options included getting knocked up and/or getting hitched to follow up on what seems to be the commonly accepted things to do before you’re 30. neither one is necessarily on my to do list so i stuck to the choices of bed or party.

the closer the day loomed the more i felt like a party would be the right choice. you only turn 30 once, or twice, maybe 3 times but that’s certainly it. anyways, party it was and that turned out to be a great distractor. i decided to do all of the cooking, baking, and meal preparations because, hey, it’s my party and i know best what i want for my guests and for myself. and for my wallet. seriously, i’m shocked at the prices of some prepped food plates when for 8 bucks and an hour of your time you can do something very similar.

anyways, the party was a lot of fun, lots of wonderful guests who mixed and mingled, and we had awesome sangria – thanks to my special someone -, lots of sushi (i did that! wheeeeee), cheese, veggies, bread, cake, tres leches….oh yum yum!

to anyone who wonders if they should party or curl up in bed: party on! because this day truly only comes once.

my personal bottom line: 30 feels no different than 29 or 28 or (i’m assuming here) 31. it’s just a number after all and it’s really up to you what you make of it. you (and i) are more than just our age or our (increasingly graying) hair or nails or figure or whatever else is on the outside. many women told me their 30s were the best years of their life. now, i have a suspicion this will also be said of the 40s but let’s skip that thought for now. hearing their positiveness about their 30s made it a lot easier for me and actually had me look forward to this new decade.

being 30 certainly sounds more grown-up than the 20s and i’m curious to see where life will take me. happy celebrating! here’s to my 30s.

franzi

but before that i would like to enlighten you with something that is so ingenious that i am shocked i didn’t do this sooner. you see, i just painted my nails. i don’t do that too often because it takes forever for the nail polish to dry. must be something with my body temperature because my fingers and toes are more often cold to the touch than warm. top coats or quick dry stuff dries quicker but still takes 2-3 times longer than indicated.

anyways, the nail polish cravings got me today (one might say i am procrastinating but PUHLEEEZE save that judgement for your own to do list). so i was happily paining my nails while realizing i should answer some emails. so i sat back at my laptop (a 2007 mac book pro which likes to heat up making me wonder if it’ll catch on fire) and typed away. soon enough i realized that the heat from the laptop kept my fingers warm and thus made the polish dry much much quicker than usual. 

wow, that is a revelation. does that mean that my days of procrastinating and non-nail painting are over because i finally have found a way to dry my nails in a decent time??? we will see. for now i am fascinated how nature and technology can truly work together to make life so much easier!

franzi

whereas 2 years ago, when i first tried riding a scooter, 8mph seemed like the speed of light, i was now doing 40mph comfortably and without fear. we were riding back roads with little to no traffic so i got a lot of road exposure without the fear of being run over by a bus or something.

eventually, we got to a t-intersection, coming in on the long end of the t and trying to make a left turn. well, that didn’t go so well. i took the turn too wide and then there was no road left, just the guard rail. the asphalt, however, ended before the rail covered the street so the front tire went into the mud and that sealed my fate. with the wheel in the mud there was no way i could avoid a crash and at some point the scooter slipped from under me making a fall to the left, i fell to the right and boom, that was that.

my knee hurt immediately. big time. as in tears-ouch-i-broke-something. i got off by climbing over the handlebars and hobbled a few feet  all the while cussing and cursing and crying. my knee hurt so much i was sure there was something broken in there but it felt like one piece when i touched it.

my special someone thankfully remained calm, moved the scooter from the road and did not reproach me, for crashing the scooter, for not making the turn, for being stupid…all the things i scolded myself for. instead he only wanted to know about my health, making sure i wasn’t seriously hurt.

there is a background story to having an accident and being reproached for damaging the car (despite the whole thing not being my fault, it was a hit and run where i was hit at 120km/h and tried my best not to be killed on a 4-lane highway). anyways, that drama came back to me immediately and i am SO THANKFUL for not hearing anything about how the scooter is scratched up here and here and oh the expenses. thank you baby!

back when i had that car crash i also made the mistake of not immediately driving again and that has left me with a permanent feeling of being uncomfortable when driving. it’s burried when i feel good, and i love driving, but when there’s someone cutting my lane or i see others making stupid moves the fear creeps up inside of me again. so with this crash now i knew i had to ride again immediately or else i would set myself up for years of left-turn-drama.

so as soon as the adrenaline kicked in and the pain subsided, i got back on the scooter and rode. i could feel my knee swell up and unfortunately it got so bad that every small bump in the road hurt tremendously. i thought i could make it but it just got worse and worse. so eventually we had to stop because i couldn’t take it anymore.

while i was parked on the side of the road, in the boonies, my baby drove home to get the car. so i sat there on the tree stump, contemplating life, laughing at my stupidity, being mad at myself for making this driving mistake (i totally know what i did wrong and this was so preventable…), wondering if i’d have to go to the ER….

i called a friend and she made me laugh, thankfully. so my spirits came back and by the time my chauffeur arrived for my ride home i really was laughing. of course my knee hurt like crazy and walking stairs, walking in general was painful and resembled hobbling. later in the evening my right arm started hurting and soon i realized that maybe my arm/shoulder was going to be more of a problem than my knee.

the swelling of the knee is slowly subsiding and the formerly grapefruit-sized knee is now an apple. the other knee is a kiwi, just for comparison. i can walk, albeit slowly, putting weight on both legs but my arm…i can’t pick up/press anything with my right arm that’s heavier than an iphone and i can’t get my hands above collarbone-level without being in big pain. it feels like really sore muscles, as in really really sore!

but despite all that i am determined to be back on the scooter (and eventually motorcycle) to improve my riding skills. i don’t want to be afraid of left turns, or any kind of turn that is. i want to be able to ride without fear. and for that i know i have to be back on 2 wheels as soon as possible.

watch out world, i am not done yet!

franzi