Everythings Going to Be... Pretty Shitty, Apparently

 (spoilers for season 2 of "Everythings Going to Be Okay") 

I've watched the first two episodes of the second season of "Everything's Going To Be Okay" and am just beyond furious. I can't believe I didn't encounter screams of outrage about this on Twitter. To create a wonderful relationship between two autistic people, actually played by autistic actors, and then destroy it with the most cliche of sit-com metaphor jokes -- Oh no! Matilida is STRAIGHT! -- is an absolute slap in the face.

It's not that it's inherently a bad storyline -- both characters are still quite young, it's easy to make mistakes with your first relationship -- but there's a sensitive and caring way it could've been handled and this was the exact opposite of that. 

Then there's the fact that they haven't addressed how seriously her family let Matilda down in New York. There is a scene where she blames them for it, but it's mostly nonsense and is immediately called out as nonsense by her sister, "that's just from some show she's watched." (Paraphrased.) The real truth, that Matilda's family is fairly wealthy and not one person has thought to use this useful fact to get her help in achieving her goals, is infuriating and unaddressed. I understand not having the drive or skills, God knows, but money can solve a lot of problems!

Finally... it's just bad. Like terrible improv. The characters just stand around being goofy at each other. It's kind of cool that they chose to acknowledge the pandemic and lockdown (I don't know if I would've thought that if I'd watched it when it first came out) but it's still a television show. There has to be a sense of pace and movement and intention. There's absolutely none.

Edited to add -- I've done some further reading and it sounds like they get a lot better in how they approach this relationship, so maybe I'll keep watching.  Episode two is just freaking unforgivable though. 

Arrgh.

 Ooof, I messed up the other day.

We were hanging out at a beach, and my friend's kids weren't into playing, so my kid was feeling really lonely. And I noticed this boy talking to an adult about Legos, who set off my a-dar. He was wandering around, also seeming lonely, so I persuaded my kid to ask him if he wanted to do something.

It's been so long since I've tried something like this, and I totally didn't take into account how it would feel to an autistic teen. He handled it much better than my own kid would've, very politely, but he was obviously startled and I hope it didn't freak him out too much. (Especially since my kid is huge.) Maybe someone with more experience facilitating could've made it happen, I dunno. 

I feel so bad, setting my kid up for failure like that. 

Parenting worries

 I watched "Allen vs. Farrow" yesterday, my stomach in a knot of grief and horror for the people who had to live through that. And anger that I had been so manipulated by Allen's powerful media machine, to the point that I had no idea about this case while it was going on. And also... a touch of fear. 

When family friends talked about how weirdly Allen interacted with his daughter, it hit alarm bells for me. (Note... I'm absolutely not trying to excuse Allen or disbelieve his accusers. The evidence is utterly damning.) Because my relationship with my child often felt weird. She needed attention in unusual ways and she gave attention in unusual ways. (I shouldn't put that in the past tense, it's still true, perhaps even more so now she's an adult.) And I was (and am) always aware of how it might look to the outside world. My mom friends and I, a rather unconventional bunch all around, always used to joke about CPS visits in a way that revealed we were always a little scared it could happen to us.

When my daughter got appendicitis, the doctors were visibly suspicious about why we hadn't brought her in sooner.  Since she was officially diagnosed, they accepted our truthful explanation, that she was under-reactive to pain and not always able to express her feelings, but it was a reminder that our parenting could look weird/wrong/bad. What if she hadn't been diagnosed? I don't know. 

It's still not entirely comfortable. Trans people are under attack in the U.S. My daughter's aide offered to write a letter for us for a "safety file" that parents of trans children keep. I said that now she's an adult, I don't have to worry about CPS anymore, and she reminded me that there's an APS.

(Which is not a bad thing! Unless the law is changed so we're bad parents for supporting her transition. My heart aches for parents in Texas right now.) 

I told my husband about the show making me feel like this and he got it completely.

Hard Times

The other night, in a moment of rage, my kid yelled that her father and I had failed her as parents for her entire life.

Extenuating circumstances: she had been missing one of her meds. And of course, the world. And she hasn't lived long enough to know that that it's really, really destructive to hit someone you love in their most tender spot during a fight. Maybe she doesn't even know what a tender spot it is. I managed not to make the obvious, unforgivable retort, because I do know.

But I'm having a lot of trouble forgiving her. I'm angry because I feel like we've done nothing but give of ourselves for her her entire life, no matter what it cost us. And maybe also because, in some part of me, I believe she was right.

That escalated quickly...

I'm taking my daughter out of school tomorrow. I don't care if she flunks. They've got their heads buried in the sand.

Tough Choices

When my baby was an infant, I used to do what's called exclusive pumping, because we never managed to make breastfeeding work. Exclusive pumping is really the worst of both worlds -- you don't get that special intimate contact with your baby, but you still have to give up hours and hours of your time.

My husband didn't work from home back then, so I was alone with the baby and often faced with the dilemma of her starting to cry while I was pumping. I felt I was constantly having to make a choice between her physical health and her psychological health. And I always chose her psychological health.

Now I'm in kind of the same situation again. My husband and I are both in higher risk groups for the coronavirus. We're lucky that he works from home and "social distancing" is pretty easy. Except... my kid has a regular routine of seeing her friends, at their house, twice a week. And they're not nearly as concerned about being careful as us, and their mom works with the public.

And once again, I'm going with psychological health. We've made some adjustments -- her respite care worker isn't taking them out to a restaurant as usual. But all this change and disruption is already so hard on her, I can't bear to cut her off from the things that help keep her sane.

Still debating myself over whether I should go to ballet class and the potluck, which are what help keep me sane.

Gosh, it's been a while...

It's been an extremely packed last year for me, especially with my child turning 18 and all the complications that brings for a developmentally delayed person, but this is the only news of particular relevance: my child also came out as trans, so I'll be talking about my daughter from now on.

My daughter also moved out, though not so very far out. :-) She's living in our "granny unit," and getting some experience at taking care of herself. It's a pretty good arrangement: more privacy for everyone, but we still get to spend time together, and help her with things she's not ready for yet.

I'm still having some adjustment issues, though. Last night I asked her to get to an evening meeting by bus, because her father and I wanted to spend some time together. I guess I didn't really think she'd have the executive function together to pull it off, though, and was startled when I realized she had actually left, and I didn't know if she'd gotten there okay. It's hard-wired in me to need to know where she is!

Also... I miss her. Even though she's right next door.

Letting go is hard.