Something lost

I look into the mirror, and I am a shell of my former self.  How did I get so lost.  I am not the precocious girl, so full of promise.  Cock sure and wry.  I am middle aged and basically a failure.  Girls I went to school with are doctors and lawyers.  Indian chiefs.  Once, I read prolifically.  everything from Shakespeare to Leonard.  Now, my eyes are so bad I can barely read my computer.  .I can't blame drugs. . .or alcohol.  Just indifference.  How can I recapture. . .not youth, but vigor.  Hopefully, with this blog, I can find my way back.  For my son's sake.  And my husband.  I am driving him crazy. 

This was the quote under my yearbook picture:

Live fast
  Be a spark and glow a while 
You'll be dead a long, long time  
Be a shooting star 
And in one mad moment 
Burning bright Light the night 
And make us stand in awe 
Live fast 
Be a supernova 
Explode now while you can 
Then flashing in the pan 
Be a streak of red 
Against the grey  
Do it young  
Don't let time slip away  
And make us real 
And feel And see 
Your beauty 
Live fast.

Tim Minchin in the morning. . .

I have a son who is not normal.  Really, there is no better word for it.  I know, everyone's child is unique, special, blah, blah, blah.  Mine, though, is not neurotypical.  Isn't that a strange word?  He sees the world in a completely different way.  I take him to the park, and he will fixate on a loose piece of plastic he can spin on a chain.  I take him to the water park and he just wants to touch the motor that makes the wave pool function.  Right now, he wants to download all 165 (yes, 165) YouTube apps in his iPad.  He wants the same toy, over and over.  He freaks out when I use the microwave without his assistance.    Unfortunately, along with this overdeveloped sense of whimsey comes an interesting streak of violence.   He takes various medicines, goes to different types of therapy, but honestly, I could not have a better, more appropriate kid.  I take him everywhere.  Do people stare?  Yes.  Does he do stupid stuff in public?  Of course.  Have I had the police called on us when I could not control his meltdowns?  Yes.  I have taken him to four-star restaurants and asked to be seated by an outlet so he can play on his iPad.  Mostly, it all works out.  People are generally pretty cool.  But the awesome thing about him is that we can share obsessions.  We spent the morning on the couch watching Tim Minchin live at the Royal Albert Hall.  With the Heritage Orchestra.  Yup, every 7 year old's dream.  But he watches it, over and over with me. 

So, enjoy Tim Minchin who is also, very obviously, not "normal."  The brain is a very interesting, pliable and varied organ.  Maybe, the more different, the better.  As for me,  I will never wish for my son to be normal, as long as he is happy.