0 comment Monday, September 15, 2014 | admin
Change is something which my son doesn't tend to embrace much - change is unpredictable and scary and takes a considerable amount of preparation. He can also get obsessed about change and if I ever mention anything happening in the future I have to be considerably careful about my timing or he'll never stop wanting to know "When?".
It is therefore really difficult as a parent of an autistic child not to get into a horrible rut; doing the same thing day in and day out, having a perpetual routine one must stick to on pain of nuclear fallout. I'm considerably more adaptable than my son but I do have to be sure that I am doing for myself as well as for him - it has a knockon effect.
And so I am setting quite a few things into motion to break the rut and to allow for more freedom for myself and also for my child. Independence...I need more of it. We both do: I don't want to worry about what games he's getting up to with neighbour children; I want take a shower rather than wash in a sink; I want space for my budding art and plenty of inspiration; garden space to work and walk around in whenever we like; room for cats and kids and midnight drives when the moon is so bright you can see for dozens of meters ahead; bluebell carpets merely a walk away and rhodies in bloom and early morning tea and the smell of a wood fire in the hearth.
I guess I'm a country-girl in my marrow - I realise now I really cannot stand living in suburban or urban settings; nosy neighbours and gossip and everyone up in what's going on with my side of the fence, house inspections...ugh. I'm wanting to live in rural surroundings again, but there's a lot of things holding me back in that regard, things which I used to think was out of my control...but now, I believe I just have to plan appropriately.
Firstly, as much as I hate being "benefit scrounging scum" I need help with rent and transport, at least for now. Obviously, there's nothing else for it on the former but to start getting Housing Benefit and fighting the battle for it - it shouldn't be such an issue with the advocates now, it's just a matter of going one ongoing battle at a time. So, working on that once I get a few other things in place.
And one of those things which needs to be in place is my DLA appeal. To my surprise (though I honestly shouldn't be surprised at all) it is looking as if I may qualify for High Mobility - at which point I also qualify for motability; a scheme which awards me a new car tailored to my driving needs. Now I am not a massive fan of cars and what they contribute to the peak oil issue: however since horse and carts are a bit difficult to maintain if you're limping along, I'd rather have something I rarely have to worry about, and will get me to art shows and exhibitions, to outings and drives with sprog day or night as we see fit. My soaping business suffered considerably because just trying to get anywhere with my kit was nearly impossible - the same will happen to my writing and art if I don't get with the century and get more mobile. And, since mobility is already a problem for me, I'll have to find ways to make that a minimal issue.
I am under no delusions - rural life is busy life; wood needs to be stacked, gardens need tending, groceries need to be brought in from somewhere and stockpiling planned carefully. There's rats and mice and huge spiders; cottages are rarely insulated well and usually run on oil so it's important to budget. Also I am well aware of the cuts and the fact that benefits are going to be axed left and right, so setting myself up in a situation I cannot sustain on my own if need be will never do, but that too I am trying to combat by working (whether the common herd sees 'art' as 'work' or not). Again, independence is the name of the game here.
But I also think it will encourage independence in my son - to go outside and play as he likes, when he likes without always needing to stick right by my side like glue. This is sadly something he doesn't get in this suburb where half the kids are known delinquents and the police patrol every ten minutes.
Another garden project, another business venture (and let's hope I can stick with it before something else goes utterly wrong with my health), another chance to share even more time with my son in the outdoors as well as time indoors doing more than just sitting around the telly yet again.
By late spring when the bluebells bloom, I'll hope to be in the country again, walking through carpets of uninterrupted blue and chattering our "family-speak" together with me and my son, a language only we both know.
It is therefore really difficult as a parent of an autistic child not to get into a horrible rut; doing the same thing day in and day out, having a perpetual routine one must stick to on pain of nuclear fallout. I'm considerably more adaptable than my son but I do have to be sure that I am doing for myself as well as for him - it has a knockon effect.
And so I am setting quite a few things into motion to break the rut and to allow for more freedom for myself and also for my child. Independence...I need more of it. We both do: I don't want to worry about what games he's getting up to with neighbour children; I want take a shower rather than wash in a sink; I want space for my budding art and plenty of inspiration; garden space to work and walk around in whenever we like; room for cats and kids and midnight drives when the moon is so bright you can see for dozens of meters ahead; bluebell carpets merely a walk away and rhodies in bloom and early morning tea and the smell of a wood fire in the hearth.
I guess I'm a country-girl in my marrow - I realise now I really cannot stand living in suburban or urban settings; nosy neighbours and gossip and everyone up in what's going on with my side of the fence, house inspections...ugh. I'm wanting to live in rural surroundings again, but there's a lot of things holding me back in that regard, things which I used to think was out of my control...but now, I believe I just have to plan appropriately.
Firstly, as much as I hate being "benefit scrounging scum" I need help with rent and transport, at least for now. Obviously, there's nothing else for it on the former but to start getting Housing Benefit and fighting the battle for it - it shouldn't be such an issue with the advocates now, it's just a matter of going one ongoing battle at a time. So, working on that once I get a few other things in place.
And one of those things which needs to be in place is my DLA appeal. To my surprise (though I honestly shouldn't be surprised at all) it is looking as if I may qualify for High Mobility - at which point I also qualify for motability; a scheme which awards me a new car tailored to my driving needs. Now I am not a massive fan of cars and what they contribute to the peak oil issue: however since horse and carts are a bit difficult to maintain if you're limping along, I'd rather have something I rarely have to worry about, and will get me to art shows and exhibitions, to outings and drives with sprog day or night as we see fit. My soaping business suffered considerably because just trying to get anywhere with my kit was nearly impossible - the same will happen to my writing and art if I don't get with the century and get more mobile. And, since mobility is already a problem for me, I'll have to find ways to make that a minimal issue.
I am under no delusions - rural life is busy life; wood needs to be stacked, gardens need tending, groceries need to be brought in from somewhere and stockpiling planned carefully. There's rats and mice and huge spiders; cottages are rarely insulated well and usually run on oil so it's important to budget. Also I am well aware of the cuts and the fact that benefits are going to be axed left and right, so setting myself up in a situation I cannot sustain on my own if need be will never do, but that too I am trying to combat by working (whether the common herd sees 'art' as 'work' or not). Again, independence is the name of the game here.
But I also think it will encourage independence in my son - to go outside and play as he likes, when he likes without always needing to stick right by my side like glue. This is sadly something he doesn't get in this suburb where half the kids are known delinquents and the police patrol every ten minutes.
Another garden project, another business venture (and let's hope I can stick with it before something else goes utterly wrong with my health), another chance to share even more time with my son in the outdoors as well as time indoors doing more than just sitting around the telly yet again.
By late spring when the bluebells bloom, I'll hope to be in the country again, walking through carpets of uninterrupted blue and chattering our "family-speak" together with me and my son, a language only we both know.
Labels: Good Life