Today I intended to get to Question 2 in my interview by Jen (of Stay-At-Home Motherdom), but I'm going to have to keep you all in suspense a day longer. Question 2 is turning out to be surprisingly difficult for me to answer, and I'm so sleep deprived that it took several hours of gazing blearily at my laptop last night to answer Question 1. However, the comments on my response to Question 1 also have me thinking...
I started my response with some self-deprecating little remarks to the effect that, by asking Jen to interview me, I was causing someone to actually read my blog. But as A Bishop's Wife pointed out in the comments, she reads my blog. And I know quite well she's not the only one. In fact, that little insecure voice inside me that doubts my own likability tends to ignore the fact that I actually do have a small, loyal readership. People have found me, and in spite of what that little voice says, they have liked me, and, sometimes to my amazement, but always to my delight, they have kept coming back.
So, my little cadre of beloved loyal readers, I'd like to share something with you. It rambles, because I'm tired, but there will be a point, I assure you...
In the five years since we first became concerned about my son's speech development, we have had to fill out countless questionnaires meant to assess his development, personality, behavior and mental health, as well as our own. The questionnaires are full of vague statements, like "cries a lot" or "likes to jump," which you rate on some equally vague or sometimes just terribly inappropriate scale, like "definitely" or "most of the time." I always had a horrible time answering these.
"Does our son cry a lot?" I'd ask Mark.
"A lot relative to what?" he'd say.
"Ah, you noticed. Unclear. Perhaps relative to other kids, perhaps relative to how much crying we can stand in a day, perhaps relative to some other measure. And it doesn't take into account the volume and intensity of crying. I mean, does whimpering for an hour count more or less than all out bawling for 30 minutes? I hate these things."
"If they defined their terms, we could take data, and maybe actually give them something useful," says Mark, ever analytical.
"Well, forget it. Let's just say he does. Does he 'cry a lot' less than 20% of the time, less than 40% of the time, about 50% of the time, more than 60% of the time or more than 80% of the time?"
"That doesn't make sense."
"I know! How can you cry 'a lot' but do it less than 20% of the time? I hate these things!"
The results are then interpreted to give a full and accurate picture of your family's health and development. In one case, the school psychologist said, looking at a report, "I see your son has poor muscle tone."
"Um, no he doesn't. He has social and speech delays, but his pediatrician hasn't noticed any problem with his muscle tone and an OT evaluation shows no gross motor delay. And he's right over there playing. You can see for yourself, his muscle tone's fine."
"But on this questionnaire, you marked, 'Avoids rough and tumble play with other children' and that indicates low muscle tone."
"He avoids rough and tumble play with other kids because he's AUTISTIC. He avoids playing with other kids, period!"
"Fine, I'll just make a note: parents disagree with assessment."
Not, "assessment is obviously flawed," of course... Sigh!
During one of these endless questionnaire sessions, we came across the following statement, which we were to rate based on how well it applied to our son: "Associates with loners." Now I don't know how the examiners define "loner," but the dictionary and I define it as someone who doesn't associate with anyone. No one can associate with loners, because loners don't associate with anyone.
This made us laugh 'til we cried and has since become a running joke in our house: we associate with loners. And in a way, it's true. Not that we associate with people who don't associate with anyone, of course, but we associate with people who, however personable or sociable they seem, are loners at heart, inclined to isolate themselves. We go to12 Step groups: gatherings of people whose core belief is "I am unlovable" and all prone to isolation. We have a son who is autistic, and have adult friends who are autistic and in spite of the fact that at least one of these folks has a social network that puts old neurotypical me to shame, they all tend toward isolation too. Mark and I seem to fit in best with the people who are quirky or different or abused or insecure, the folks who, regardless of how social they are, feel deep down that, for whatever reason, they don't fit in with the rest of society: people like the two of us.
So, here I am, amazed that people like me, afraid that they will not; never one of the popular kids, never feeling like I fully fit in, always feeling on the outskirts, always wondering when I was accepted by a group, if they would tire of me or figure out that I wasn't as much like them as they all thought. And between the comments on my last post and the fact that I attract an audience rife with autism and addiction, I suspect that I'm not the only one.
So, my loner friends, welcome to the virtual room I've made for myself. I'm a loner. I associate with loners. And we're here having a big old loner party in a room of Mama's own. 
BTW, someday, when some big agents and publishers come poking around in their free time and decide to offer me bucketloads of money to write my memoir (yeah, that's my very realistic plan, and I'm sticking to it), I am going to insist on the title Associates With Loners.
Awesome post. I have fallen in love with you and your blog.
I wish I had thought of Associates With Loners for a blog title!
Peace to you,
Scout
I didn't finish reading this yet...I'm also sleep deprived, but I'm sleepy because my husband won't go to bed ever and I can't sleep without having my head buried in his back.
Your talk of sleep deprivation makes me never want to have babies. That and the heroin. I can't imagine what to do if I really needed a nap and there were children who needed tending. You can't just throw them in the yard like I do with the dogs.
Also, scout, you better watch out. I don't like anyone sweet-talking my blog girlfriend like that.
Scout, thanks for stopping by. Glad to have you at my loner party!
Junky's Wife, oh, no! I can't keep your attention through a whole post anymore. The magic is gone! I'm running off with Scout.
BTW, you can just let the kids run around with the dogs and the heroin needles while you nap, but it's not the best strategy if you want to keep them...
Fortunately, the kids themselves (to a certain age) nap and eventually go to school -- and there is always sweet, sweet caffeine, Mama's drug of choice. I caught an hour of sleep when both kids were at school today, which, added to the 2 hours of sleep before my son crawled into bed last night and then the 2+ hours after, means I'm in decent shape tonight.
And 1.5 hours of yoga tonight helped me feel good too... I love yoga night!
Yeah, I'm a loner and I hope to join your cool blog ring..
You said:
"Mark and I seem to fit in best with the people who are quirky or different or abused or insecure, the folks who, regardless of how social they are, feel deep down that, for whatever reason, they don't fit in with the rest of society: people like the two of us."
Thank you! This is my hubby and I and our kids in a nutshell. We could not even "fit in" with our church. We are odd to say the least. We do not socialize and tend to keep to our selves. We do not even fit in with our families. We tend to keep our phone shut off as much as possible.
I have beat myself up, even on my blog, trying to figure out "what is wrong with me."
It has been this way all my life. I have stated how if I were a child now, I would be dx'ed as autistic. So would hubby. We kinda found "a place" with the "coast to coast" radio audieance and blogging.
It is 3 AM and I got up at 2 and hubby just went to bed---we can not sleep right either LOL so do not feel bad!
The scripture says "We are in this world but not of this world" We have decided to take comfort in that. That is why some of us have it so hard. We are different and maybe that is a good sign,we do not "fit in". If we were perfect, or thought we were, what use would we have for God in the first place?
LONERS!! What a wonderful idea.
Not knowing who's lurking, who's just dropping by for a quick read is all part of the great mystery of blogs.
So, why ya so tired?
Recovering Wino, all loners are welcome!
Bishop's Wife, I'm much, much closer to being on the spectrum than most folks. I'm very much an introvert, with various sensory issues (around noise and movement) contributing to that. So, I get by ok in a neurotypical world, but it's tiring -- and I do get where my son is coming from to a certain extent.
Shawn, I typically go to bed around midnight and am up at 6am to get my son to school -- and he comes into our bed halfway through the night at which time I check to see if he's wet and get up and shut the door to the kids' room so my daughter doesn't wake up. So, it's interrupted sleep. I'm always riding the ragged edge...
But right now my husband's company is going through a restructuring so there is some job and financial stress -- he has been working long hours and weekends, so I have been on kid duty almost non-stop.
And my daughter is at that weird in between stage with her nap -- if she naps, she doesn't fall asleep until 10-11pm, if she doesn't nap, she is totally cranky all afternoon and sometimes falls asleep on the sofa at 5pm and then is up half the night. Either way, I can't get to bed early -- or I have my sleep further interrupted.
On top of that I was trying to work a part time job and keep up with the blog. The past few weeks with no break from childcare and trying to add a part-time job on even less sleep than usual have just got me delirious.
You'll be happy to know I quit the job and am keeping the blog.
Whew! Sorry you asked?
Do you ever feel like you can find the crazy person in the room? I always, ALWAYS, can find the girl with the childhood trauma, the man with the addictive personality, the woman with the personality disorder, and I want to sit next to those people. It's like a sixth sense.
Junky's Wife, my own ability to detect underlying mental health problems is one of my known super powers. I even mentioned it in one of my very, very first blog posts. And, um, you and I are two of the girls in the blogging room who sat down next to each other, so go figure.
MPJ, that was terrific. Truly. And I relate to it as only someone who has filled out those STUPID STUPID CIRCLES can.