When Friendship Dies

I had a friend. A really close friend. Someone I trusted, spoke to daily, supported as she supported me. Then the THING happened. You know, the THING that seems to be oh so common? The chill. You know something has changed but have no idea why? You start to second guess every recent discussion, every chat, every joke, every little thing, searching, trying to work out what YOU did wrong.

And eventually you realise. It is not YOU, it is her, and no matter how much that friendship mattered at the time, you have to walk away and let it go.

As I always tell my children, you cannot control the actions of another, merely your own actions and reactions.

I was over at Maxabella's yesterday, and read her post on the death of a friendship. Then I read the comments and realised just how common this sort of thing is between women. It helps to know others go through the same thing, it helps not to be alone.

I wonder if they ended up in such a toxic situation as mine became, the constant lies, trouble-making, victim mentality attacks. The stalking (for it can be called no other), the isolation as I refused to enter into a he said/she said battle with mutual friends. The trouble it caused for my children, especially my youngest, when her poison spread to our school. The relief when the focus turned to others and finally so many saw her for what she really is. And finally, the letting go of all her crap, and the acceptance that it was never about me, it was always about her (and THAT took a long time, believe me).

It is sad that women seem to think it is acceptable to attack one another, or to act foolishly and vindictively. High School Mentality (HSM) is a curse that some seem to never outgrow.

And for all that I have been accused of being confrontational over the years, I'd rather be seen as straight-talking, no bullshit woman than as a back stabber and immature bitch.

Ladies - be kind to one another, you never know what is happening behind closed doors. Friendships change and evolve, have the guts to say you have changed or grown apart and keep a semblance of civility, eh?

Surely we are all mature enough for that at least...

DP Con 12 - The Madmother Review

Well, it is over, done and dusted for another year. The Digital Parents Conference 2012. Now, I could sit here and give you a detailed breakdown of every session, the speakers, the tutorials, the damn fine examples of talent that were shared with all us attendees... But I'm not going to. Many others will provide you with those essential breakdowns.

MM & DFF

I am going to tell you what I learnt for me. There was much about finding your niche, carving your market, reasons behind successes. And whilst it ignited a fire in my belly whilst there, it is only since returning home that (sorry Valerie - there it is, my unnecessary yet so much a part of me fail word) I have had time to process, analyse, decide my path. What my blog, and blogging is to me.

My stunning, funny, amazing roomie... oh, and dear friend, Leanne from DFF.

I have come away with this. It is mateship. It is about connecting on an emotional level to others. It is about laughter and tears, shared experiences and new ones too. It is about friends.

MM & Suz from Segovia, who I have decided is dipping in the fountain of eternal youth.

Whilst I truly enjoyed and inhaled every learning experience at DPCON 12, it dawned on me later - the main reason I was there was to meet, touch, talk and be face to face with those I have made an online connection. Too many to name, and I'm sure I'd be forever editing the list as I remembered others, old friends, people from the before whom I've followed from early days (May, 2009 I joined up), women I have connected with in recent times. People I have felt close to without actually meeting face to face. People I now feel a stronger connection with after our irl conference encounters.

Diminishing Lucy & Suz

I discovered new friends too. Blogs I had not visited, or some I had once, but been unable to find again. Bloggers who started as strangers, by the end of the two days were friends. Some I shocked, some I laughed with, some I held as we cried in unison at shared pain.

The MOST fabulous of photographers... FE & me!
Old friends who shared a lightbulb "OMG IT'S YOU!" moment on the first night.

Every one of you made it an incredible experience, and I am so blessed to have been able to attend.

Lisa from Simple Loving Thoughts & Bernie from The Bernie Brand

Psst - watch out for me on your blog roll lovelies.




P.S. A massive thank you to Brenda and the whole DPCON team. This has to be one of the best conferences I have attended (and believe me, there have been a few). It was well organised, professional, smoothly run and yet still welcoming, and engaging. A hard balance to attain, but one you seemed to have mastered effortlessly (I know it was not without massive effort, but you made it look simple - the sign of an incredibly cohesive and organised team). So thank you.

The Art of Friendship... Or How To Make a Friend in an Autistic World.

Friendship. Something a lot of us take for granted. Something we all want, but for those on the autism spectrum, something that seems, at times, impossible.
It seems this topic is a hot one this week.
One of my favourite blogs, the crack and the light, addressed it a little ago.

Autism and Empathy, only a few days later.

And then Parenthood had a massive reaction to their episode: Tough Love (not available in Oz yet).
More discussion on this episode, and a great article, here.

One of the diagnostic requirements to be assessed on the autism spectrum is (as per Autism Spectrum Australia) :
Impairment in social interaction
May include:

• Limited use and understanding of non-verbal communication such as eye gaze, facial expression and gesture
• Difficulties forming and sustaining friendships
• Lack of seeking to share enjoyment, interest and activities with other people
• Difficulties with social and emotional responsiveness

Friendship does not come easily in an autistic world. Social skill impairment and obsessive interests make it hard for the child to connect and make friends. Add in language difficulties and self-focus and *boom*,  you have a nearly impossible friendship cultivating experience.

And it is, as parents, our deepest desire, OUR obsession, our dream for these kids, for whom life is already far more challenging than your average joe, to have a friend.

We do not, like some, want the most popular. We do not yearn for the cool group acceptance. We just yearn for them not to go through life alone, lonely, isolated from peers.

It is why that episode of Parenthood has hit home for so many people.

A friend.

A lot of my regular followers may be sitting here going: "WTF? HER son has a friend! Her son has more than one!"

And they are right. We were lucky in a way, we were well on the trail of diagnosis when Boy 1 was very young. We also were blessed to be able to think outside the square of those days. We were given little guidance, and no information. One of the few things recommended to us by our paed was to foster one-on-one friendships. So we did.

To get to the bone, the advice I would offer to others today is this.

1. Encourage friendships outside of group settings. Arrange playdates (for the young) or social excursions (for the older) ONE_ON_ONE.
2. Be open to parents of other children. You may be surprised at how supportive they may be of a friendship. Fear comes from ignorance, we chose to be loud and proud, open and informative, all questions welcome and answered.
3. When a connection/friendship is made, enforce "friend" free days at school. The very intenseness of these friendships (and let's face it, our wonderful spectrum kids are VERY intense) can be what burns it out. The pressure on the other child, hell, on both of them, can be massive! We instigated this at least once every few weeks. This was more in the younger years, as they get older they manage it themselves if given the skills to see and acknowledge the need for personal space. Make sure you also explain to teachers and parents why you instigate these. We always found they not only understood, they appreciated these actions. And to watch the two run to each other the day after, pure joy. (I always found it refreshed and strengthened the bond in our case).
4. Teach social skills. This is a big one. We actively, in every situation, explained to our son what the expected/accepted social norms were. Still do today at 14. Most of them he has retained (but they need to be reinforced - apparently, a lot of children with ASD regress in behaviour during teenage years. This is not only due to hormones, puberty and typical teenage angst... it is also because we, as parents, go "Phew, he's got those ones, now we can breathe!" Uh-uh. It is  proven that kids on the spectrum do not keep learned behaviours until their EARLY 20's! Yikes! But yeah - keep on drilling 'em in), some of them he is still working on getting. Small talk is a big one he struggles with ("What? You don't want to know all the details of string theory?").
5. Do not be disheartened if at first you don't succeed. It is hard to find another they click with. This goes for ALL kids, on the spectrum or off. It is just a little more limited a pool for those on the spectrum.
6. Realise that kids are accepting. If you work on them understanding when young, the odds are they will still understand when older. Boy 1 has many peers who, whilst not friends, are not enemies either.
7. Breathe. And do not cast your social expectations and beliefs onto your child. Hard, I know. But important. It is their journey, not ours, and all we can do is cheer from the sidelines no matter what or with whom they are playing.

As I write this Boy 1 is at a sleepover at one of his best mate's houses. HE is finding High School hard. He has had this friend by his side since Grade 3, to laugh with and relax during break times. To support and be supported. Now they are at different schools, and whilst Boy 1 likes his new school, it is the social side that is suffering. I see it in the tenseness of his body as he treads carefully through the school week.

But the nice thing is that his mate feels somewhat the same. The last two weekends these friends have been together. This friendship, like his other mate C, is strong enough to survive the different schools. But it is hard for both of them right now, finding their feet. And I think they appreciate each other that much more.

S, Boy 1, C, Boy 2 - January 2012

We know we cannot force him to make new friends. At this teenage stage, we can only guide carefully, and support him. It is harder to meet new people and make new friends when older. And we have to allow him to take his own path. In his own words (as we gently push him to unfold those beautiful dragonfly wings once more), "I am taking things from a more observational perspective for a while." Fair call. For now.

How Do You Say Goodbye?

 My mobile rang this morning. Not that early, but still earlyish for Boxing Day. Undecided whether to answer it I glanced at the name and pushed the answer button with a "Helloooo gorgeous!"

I expected it to be my friend of twenty-three years, instead it was her husband. "I'm sorry mate, I have some bad news. She's gone."

She's gone.

My friend, my mate, my loyal, wonderful, kind, generous, loving friend. Gone.

Now I need to sit and write once more for her. Not the speech for her wedding, not the one for her first divorce. The one for her funeral. The last of 1001 nights tales is going to be one of truth and love. I am going to bring her into our hearts, not that she ever left. And I will try not to cry. For her. I will laugh and rejoice in her life, and keep my sadness far away.

Lisa 1996

Because there will be two little girls sitting in that church, watching, trusting, hurting. Needing to see and feel their Mum through my words.

I love you Lise, I will miss you every day of my life.

Weekend Grateful: Boys, LAN Parties and Friends

In case you are wondering I live in a house of geeks. Otherwise known as nerds, or maybe comparable to living in a younger household of Big Bang Theoreticists.

Last night, at our house, we had nine boys with laptops for the second monthly L.A.N. Minecraft party. It was meant to be twelve but a few had last minutes disasters which prevented them attending. So, not only did I have a T.A.R.D.I.S. and the fourth doctor in scarecrow form out front of our long driveway, but also a house full of boys madly sitting building a server world. Local Area Network party. Seriously hilarious.

Geeks I tell ya! GEEKS!

But gorgeous ones, every single one of them.

So very grateful for friends, for all of us.

Funny, I thought it would be a few more years before this...

R U OK?

My friend, R U OK? You don't seem yourself and you've lost your lovely tigger bounciness of late.

Hey darling, R U OK? I know you always worry, but something feels a little darker around you right now, can I help lighten the skies?

Hi you, R U OK? Stupid question as I can see you are in a pickle. How about you let us all help you out of this? Or let us in to help you out?

After all, that's what friends are for.

All Pooh Bear pictures copyright Disney

I am here. And I really do want to know... R U OK?

The Mother

I wrote this in a note on Facebook, and then decided to share here too. Sorry for the double up for those who are on my FB list. Am also linking for both weekend grateful and FYBF. It's been THAT sort of week.

The mother walked, bent double under her load. On her back were her children, her career, her aging parents, her friends - though who, when and what changed as needed. Her face pale with perspiration, her legs shaking with effort, she put one foot in front of the other, constantly moving forward though sometimes at a snail's pace. Some days her children were dead weights, exhausted, stressed, the pressures of school, social acceptance, conforming wearing them out.
Other days they were as light as feathers, and she needed to tie a string from her heart to theirs so they did not float away with happiness and laughter. And on the terrible, black, heavy days when she thought her back would break, the load would suddenly lighten and the pain lessen and she would look to her side where she had not realised her loving partner or a dear friend had appeared, and they would say: "Hey, I'm here. Do not worry, let me carry some of it for a while whilst you learn to breathe freely again."

Thank you my friends and husband for allowing me to exhale.

Living 1001 Arabian Nights...

"Scheherezade: These people sit for hours - just listening. It's a miracle!

Storyteller: People need stories more than bread itself. They tell us how to live, and why."

~1001 Arabian Nights~

Have you wondered where I am? I am here, but in an unfamiliar guise. I am Scheherazade, weaving my tales, casting my spell of distraction. Each day I am writing a new story, each week I am bundling them together and sending them off in the post of Australia.

Why? I cannot do much, I am too far away and her needs are met by family and friends who live in her proximity. All I can do, as she spends this endless, horrific month being bombarded by chemo, is to offer a distraction. I send my love woven in my words, I send her something to take her away, be it only in mind. I send her parts of me, birthed in short bursts of insane inspiration.

It is all I can do, it is so little, but maybe, in my own unique way, I am helping. Just a tiny bit.

Fight my friend, fight.

Life is Unfair.

I have a Billy Joel song playing again and again on an endless loop in my head. Only the good die young.

It is a strangely upbeat song for someone sinking into the darkness.

These are the lyrics which echo in my mind after hearing Big Boy's words when I rang him with the news... "Why do the nice people in this world suffer these tragedies and trials, yet the toxic nasty ones go forth without nary a ripple of discomfort?"

We have been friends for over twenty years, I can even pinpoint the date we met. 8/8/1988 - the day I began work at a large investment insurance company. Even through divorce, distance and life's ever changing cycle of demands we have always remained friends. We talk weekly. She and her husband flew in for my 45th bash a few years back. We have shared laughter, tears, anger and sadness. We have had drunken nights, saved kittens under cars, danced at each others wedding.

Friends. The genuine thing.

Today I received a text. In February they diagnosed her with a type of pre-leukaemia with a name so big I could not begin to pronounce it. It was the day she was due to have her large bowel removed after many years of issues. They did not go ahead, obviously. And in the months that have flown by my words of frustration and anger at the lack of action or treatment whilst the medical big wigs pondered this medical dilemma which is my friend, have echoed down the phone line.

"Do you want me to fly in? I am good at kicking medical butt after Wise Woman's fiascos."

"Not yet, I'll tell you if I need you."

"You sure?"

"Yep. For Now. You can be my secret weapon."

"Or your loose cannon, heheheh."

"That too."

Finally they decided to go ahead with her op... but today I received the text.

"It has developed into acute leukaemia. Op off, chemo starting next week."

I have a huge solid knot of fear pitted in my stomach. My gut instinct is sending huge red pulses of angst through out my soul. Those fucking idiots - they had caught it so damn early and yet failed to act. Now I am scared it is too late. I am terrified we will lose her. I am helpless, frustrated and angry.

And if I am feeling this way, how in hell must my gorgeous girl feel?

For God's sake, her girls are only so very young. She is a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend. This is not right. It is so very wrong.

Only the good die young, and she is pure goodness to her very core. Please let it not be so this time, please, please, please...

Amazing Grace, How Sweet The Sound

Was blind, but now I see.

I walk arm in arm with my sons. At an age where it is considered uncool to hold your mother's hand, arm, hand my two do not hesitate. As we walk we talk. "Did you hold Nanna's hand when you were our age, Mum?"

"Yes" I answer, then begin to laugh.

"What?"

And so I tell them. My mother had severe sight issues from my first memory. She, her best friend and my Grandmother had sat for hours in her terrace house childhood home and watched the welders work below in the factory next door. Back then it was not common knowledge that such unprotected viewing would cause permanent and irreversible damage. My mother was the worst affected of the three.

That term... bottle top glasses? Well, those were hers. So thick that her beautiful brown eyes were distorted behind them.

As a teenager in the 1930's she loved going to the beach. It was even more appealing as she could use her sunglasses to hide her vision issues from the coolness of a teenage world. Yes, even back then people with perceived weaknesses were teased, it did not help that she was not only stunning but chronically shy.

As she grew older her sight grew worse. By the time I was a teenager my mother had been considered legally blind for quite a few years.

I grew up walking arm in arm with my mother. I never developed teenage embarrassment, for I knew when we walked together if she did not have hold of my elbow she would trip, fall, be hurt. To the casual observer it merely looked as if our arms were linked in affection (as they were). They did not hear the running commentary between us...

"Kerb, Mum."

Copyright Madmother - 1986

"Ramp, Mum."

"Car coming."

Now to the reason I laughed. As I grew older we always joked I was escorting her nicely limited Mastercard across the road. Once I graduated and hit my middle 20's the joke was switched to her escorting MY Mastercard across the road as the limit was higher than hers.

This was the story I told my children yesterday.

"Wow Mum. You have more than one credit card so we both have to escort you and your purse across the street then!" This from my impish younger. The older just laughed. And both tightly linked their arms a little harder through mine.

I lived my whole life with a loving mother who was sight compromised. Now my very best friend is facing the same. Her children are six and nine (nearly), and she is now classed as legally blind. Retinitis Pigmentosa. A genetic eye condition that causes the light-sensitive retina, located at the back of the eye, to degenerate slowly and progressively.

She is beautiful, positive and a wonderful joy to be around. She cannot see kerbs or stairs or the joy in her children's faces if they are not right next to her.


Like my Mum, she has days when it gets to her, when her dreams of the future are clouded and dim. But, again, like Wise Woman, these are rare.She does not want pity, she wants life. We tend to joke about it, though there are times when laughter does not help.


When she told me of her diagnosis I could tell she was over the pity party others had been throwing for her.


"Okay, so not good?"


"Nope. Didn't want to tell you before, didn't want our friendship balance to be compromised with you feeling sorry for me."


"You just didn't want to tell me all those times we went out and got blind you really were!"


When she stopped laughing...


"Oh hell, I knew I should have told you before the others..."


"Hey, don't worry, at least I have someone to give Mum's talking books to when she's gone."


"Oh, you are bad, seriously bad. Thank you."


See, both these women in my life were alike. Determined, positive, strong. For all my years with my mother I am now able to support, console, listen, arse-kick, and just understand what my friend is going through. And when things get hard I remind her of the 90 year old still managing to do her tax on exel. On a REALLY big computer screen, yes. On the biggest font you can imagine, yes. On the highest view limit available, yes. But still determined and capable. Right up to the end. If you make your mind up you can do anything... it just may be that you have to approach it a different way from before.

Copyright Madmother - May 2011

Oh, and as my friend's credit card limit is higher than mine, I just might have to escort her carefully across busy roads for years to come.

It's All About Me!

When Boy 1 was a lot younger, and I had not long joined an on-line parenting website, this was a running joke with a group of the Mums.

As parents of children of varing ages all on the autism spectrum, it was ALWAYS about them. These kids are very self-focused at times ("He bumped me, he is trying to kill me!") and in the midst of interventions and therapies and lots of stress, rushing, juggling and parenting, it was never about us, the mums.

And so it began. "It is all about me." Whenever a comment was made on msn or in posts the automatic response would be:
"Well, you know it is all about me."

"No, it is all about ME!"

"Ah, ladies, how many times do I have to tell you? It is all about ME!"

We even discussed getting shirts.

 

Can you imagine the response a bunch of grown women wearing these might get?

God, those were the days.

Oh, and you do know, don't you?

IT'S ALL ABOUT ME!

See You On The Other Side!

I am running away. Not for ever, but for 3 nights. I have never, ever had 3 nights away from my two boys... well, not for pleasure. Even on business I think the most has been 2 nights.

But today I am running away. Myself and some of my lovely old friends from my former life in the city of Sydney are meeting up in Melbourne. I am being utterly selfish and had not told anyone including some of my dear new friends who reside down there. Several reasons for this.

Firstly, I honestly was not sure this trip would actually eventuate. Between sick kids, sick adults, and other committments, I had doubts. But it has.

Secondly, I, for once, am not the organisor. One of my very best friends is and she has co-ordinated all of us, accommodation and activities. I am sitting back and being told: this is what we are doing today. Hell, I have no idea of the itinerary even now. Bliss!

Thirdly, I don't want to make promises I can't keep.

This is my first girl's weeked away in over 13 years! So I am being selfish... utterly, totally, blissfully selfish.

Toodles!

xx

I Just had THE Best Morning!

Don't you love it when you meet someone for the first time in a crossover from blog world to real life and you just click?

I do, we did, and I had

THE BEST MORNING EVER!

*Sigh* - just so sorry the time flew by so very, very fast. And I know Leanne was very grateful not to be sold to the white slave traders. Thanks for a wonderful catch up my friend, so very glad to be able to call you such.

Photo stolen from DFF. 'Cause it's me and her so I can. And yes, this is our view from our house.

Pssst - And remember us plebs when you are a rich and famous author, m'kay?

Weekend Grateful: You Gotta Have Friends...

Cyber friends  Best Friends  Good Friends  Old Friends  New Friends 

Friendship  - throw yourself into the middle of the social pond

and watch the ripple of friendship widen and widen and widen...

After a little break I am joining back in to Maxabella's Weekend Grateful Blog Hop once more. Today I bring in the big guns. Friends. What would the world be like without your BFF'S? Or any of your friends? What would our childrens' lives be like without their mates? Seriously, true love and soul mates are a wonderful thing, but who is it you turn to when the dream lover pisses you off? You got it - your friends!

Veronica started me thinking on this earlier in the week when she posted about how important finding a friend is for our special kids. It made me think of Boy 1 and his best mate C. It brought the up my fears for Boy 2 and his social issues and lack of confidence in friendship.

It made me think of my friends and realise how much each and every one of them means to me. I cooked a birthday dinner for one of my nearest and dearest last night. She was my first friend I ever made on this mountain over a decade ago, and still one of my closest. We have been through a lot together - and that is the operative word,TOGETHER. She is someone I know I could always count on, who loves me warts and all. As I do her. I mean, let's face it - I rarely cook and for her I cooked for over 3 hours to give her an Italian feast. That says a lot!

We'd be here all day if I were to individually mention each and everyone of those I adore, and I must admit, rely on. They are my lifeblood. I could not survive without them. I am a social creature by nature and tend to go into withdrawals if I don't catch up with at least some of the beautiful people of my world on a regular basis.

So to all of my wonderful friends - know I am grateful every day for your presence in my life. We may not talk everyday, we may not see each other for months, even years. We may not have even met face to face. But true friendship is not made up of keeping tabs or a tally. True friendship is not about scores or one upmanship (is that a word?), it is about being there when needed, laughter, tears, support and fun.

I think I need to start up my friendship posts once more... If you want to know more about some of my wonderful friends see these: Feeling Mellow Posts. What about you - are you more of a solitary creature or are you like me?