Some days, I feel spent even before I set my feet on the ground. Not physically, but on the creative front. I drink copious amounts of coffee, play with the kids, walk the dog and read an excellent book. But when I sit down in front of my screen, I come up with an enormous ball of blah. There are no ideas in the old noggin, not even a kernel of one — all I can hear is the empty echoing of half-thoughts, tumbleweeding across the arid landscape. Evenings have always been my favorite part of the day to write, but recently I’ve begun glancing at the watch, feeling the blankness grow and consume me as the clock approaches 7.
As a reasonably organized person, I enjoy the sweet, sweet joy of crossing out things/tasks accomplished. I’ll often add a couple of frivolous items just for the satisfaction of checking them off the list a few minutes later. And this show of planning makes me feel more like a functioning adult. I’m still not sure if I filed my taxes correctly, but the fridge is stocked, the kids are done with their dentist visits, and I’m caught up on laundry + chores. I’ve also been writing every day, keeping fit, and remembering to floss at night. Hey, at this point, my self-esteem is at an all-time high.Continue reading“Someone’s gotta do it.”
In new situations, I often flounder. As articulate as I like to think I am, my default mode is awkward mumbling when put in an unfamiliar or stressful scenario. I need a few minutes of back and forth before I relax enough to speak without sounding like a chump. I imagine it is the same for many adults (if not, I’m jealous, because how?)Continue reading“The chatterbox and the chump.”
Sometimes I don’t need long, flowery prose to describe how strong my boy is. This was a picture of him when he was seven. He’d had surgery on both legs, and a mere three days after, he limped along with those bulky casts. Just so he could ride on a train.
I will do my best to ensure nothing and no one ever tames his fire. This passion, this drive?
He has always been a cuddle bug. As a baby, he loved to burrow into the crook of my neck, let out a milky sigh, and nod off to dreamland. He will snuggle in bed, on the couch, and latch on like a sloth if you’re on the move.Continue reading“Hold me tight: #thisisAutism”
Nirav almost always joins us on family hikes. Up and down the windy California coastline or deep inside massive redwood forests. He enjoys the exercise, the outdoors, and our company. Putting one foot in front of the other while the wind sings in his hair, echoing the cadence of his sister’s voice. There is no pressure to participate, so he ambles long, at peace with everything. Even if he doesn’t say a word, we know he’s watching, listening, and living every part. Continue reading“30 laps- #thisisAutism”
April is a special month in the Raman household. We prank each other silly on April fools’ day, and the rest of the month, we do our bit in talking about Autism acceptance. As Nirav grows older, the uncertainty of his future as an adolescent and later an adult looms over us. I worry about societal support for autistic adults, job opportunities, and housing. And I wonder if he will still be accepted when he’s no longer this goofy kid with faint traces of baby fat. The statistics don’t paint a promising picture, so we must move past awareness and talk about acceptance.Continue reading“This is autism.”