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My son, who turned eleven in September, was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) when he was little. He attends a social skills group during the school week but otherwise is fully mainstreamed. He used to receive speech therapy -- he had a speech delay and some difficulties with understanding and usage -- but he improved enough that he no longer qualifies for that. (In fact, they wanted to discontinue services entirely this year, but I pushed back on that, and his fourth grade teacher backed me up.)

In the past we've often told people (like his swim instructor) that he has Aspergers. This seemed simplest, since Aspergers has been so much in the popular media lately that people say, "ah, yes," and feel like they know what to expect. But he doesn't actually qualify for the Aspergers label. He has certain autistic traits that affect his life profoundly, but he lacks many of the issues typical of Aspergers. I believe his official diagnosis on paper is Pervasive Developmental Disorder–Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS), which is the unhelpful label they give to someone who has autistic symptoms in certain key areas but none in other key areas.

As he gets older, it's becoming clearer that his primary difficulty is in understanding the unspoken rules of social interaction. I can see the social gap between him and his peers widening. They are getting more sophisticated in their relationships, and he is not. He's an extrovert and loves to be with people, but he doesn't pick up on non-verbal cues, and he's extremely literal. So he can't tell the difference between someone who truly wants to be his friend and someone who is keeping him around as a chew toy. And he is getting to that unfortunate age when bullying really begins to ramp up.

When I was a kid, the teachers at my school were pretty useless in dealing with bullies. In their opinion, there was something wrong with the kids who were being bullied -- if only they weren't so shy, or so weird, or would make more of an effort to be like the other kids -- if only they were more "normal." When I was bullied, I knew down to my bones that none of the adults in my life could do a thing to stop it. The only thing that worked was a radical change: deciding that I would move out-of-state and live with my dad.

My son's school has a no-tolerance policy, of course, and things like a "Resolution Room," where kids go to work out problems with adult supervision. They've come a long way. But I know how subtle kids can be. Even if they're not being visibly cruel, they'll find other ways of isolating and abusing their targets.

I really want to save my son from what I went through. I remind myself that he is not me, and his situation is completely different, so I should not get too worked up about this in advance. But I can see signs of rough roads ahead.

Basically, I wish people didn't suck. ::sigh::

One thing at a time, though. His main issue right now is what to be for Halloween: Angry Bird or Grim Reaper? A happier issue to ponder!

For the last few weeks I've been on strict bed rest, and will remain so until December 10 (when I'll be 36 weeks pregnant) or until I have this baby. So when my mom said, "[Stepdad] was wondering if you'd like a Kindle?" I jumped ALL over that.

My husband thought I should ask for an iPad instead, but #1: they are WAY more expensive, and I don't think my mom was up for that; and #2: I already have a laptop for all my Internet-browsing needs. What I wanted was a super-light way to carry at least 25 books with me at all times in case of emergencies.

As it turns out, I LOVE my Kindle. My main concern was that page-turning would be too slow, but it's almost instantaneous. It's true that the screen does a weird flickery thing every time you advance a page, but from what I hear all e-readers do that. I got used to it quickly.

I still can't bring myself to actually spend money for an e-book, but there is plenty of free stuff out there. The first novel I read on the Kindle was Lois McMaster Bujold's new novel Cryoburn, which Baen is offering for free download. I own nearly all of Bujold's books and will probably buy this one eventually, but it was nice to have it to read right away.

I am fighting the urge to buy the e-book of Connie Willis's All Clear. It will come in at the library soon enough. I could have it RIGHT NOW...but I have the feeling it's a slippery slope if I give in. There could be a FRENZY of e-book buying. Better to wait.

I'm spending way too much time fiddling with the page layout and typography in these free e-books, but it's distracting to see double hyphens in place of proper em dashes, or straight quotes instead of typographer's quotes. (Yes, I am a typography snob. These things matter.)

Anyway....all of this is a wonderful distraction from what's going on with my body. I knew this pregnancy could be as difficult as my first one, but I was hoping this time maybe I'd sail right through. Not so much, as it turns out. Gestational diabetes, way too many needles, pre-term labor, bed rest, et cetera. But: last time I was in the hospital for THREE WEEKS, and this time I've mostly been able to stay home. I did have to spend three days in the hospital recently, but at this point they probably won't check me in again until I'm actually having the baby. So...lots of time on my couch. I'm very grateful for modern technology, which gives me even more ways to read lots of good books.

I've done a lot more traveling in the last few months than I usually do. I dread traveling (flying especially), but I love being in new places! Last month I went to Seattle for a conference, and it was sunny and gorgeous the whole four days I was there. Man, if it were always like that, I would move there in a hot minute. I ate halibut and clam chowder, and walked along Alki Beach, and browsed all the funky little shops in the Fremont neighborhood. (The control towers on the Fremont Bridge look very much like Doctor Who's Tardis.) I even hoofed it up a very steep hill to see the Fremont Bridge Troll, a giant sculpture tucked under the bridge with an entire car engulfed in one big paw.

My husband's uncle lives in Seattle, so I went out to dinner with him a couple times. He took me to the "free Space Needle," Queen Anne's hill, which has a fabulous view of the city. And we went to the Pike Place Market on Saturday morning, which is one of my favorite places ever. It's like every farmer's market and craft fair I've ever been to rolled up into one. All the produce in Seattle looks so shiny and yummy! I would cook a lot of vegetarian food if I lived there.

Summer is the time for craft fairs in Minnesota, and I've been to several already (plus a parade!). This weekend's the Stone Arch Festival.

Oh, and I also went to the ADAM LAMBERT CONCERT! He put on an awesome show at Mystic Lake Casino last weekend. There were two opening acts (Allison Iraheta and Orianthi), and people were polite and clapped and whoo-hooed a bit, but mostly sat on their butts. (Good luck doing the call-and-response thing with a group of Minnesotans, Allison, sorry!) But then Adam came out and the ENTIRE PLACE FREAKING ERUPTED. And stayed that way for his entire set. It was AWESOME.

He has four very energetic dancers, and he himself is very, very flexible. I went with my sister-in-law, who was a little grumpy about the whole thing. "I don't need to see the sexy-times dancing; I just want to listen to him sing," she said.

"Well, I LIKE the sexy-times dancing!" I said. And so did everyone else, judging by the whooping and the catcalls. And that's not even mentioning his voice, of course, which is just incredible to hear live. I wish I'd been able to get better seats, 'cause I was too far away to see facial expressions, but it was still totally worth it. I'll go see him any time he's in town here, I tell you what.

I really wish Octavia Butler were still around. I want more books from her. And I want more books from Kage Baker, too, while I'm wishing for the moon. I have twenty-five books checked out from the library and I'm not sure which one to read next. I want what I can't have.

I'm in a tunnel right now, not unusual for this time of year. The light at the end of it looks dim, but I know the sun will come out eventually. It's early spring in Minnesota, so grass is beginning to appear from under dirty grey blocks of snow. Every morning this week was gray and foggy, and it rained hard a few times while I was at work. Nobody knows how to dress: there are winter coats, lightweight hoodies, even short sleeves. It's not that warm out yet, but it looks as if it should be.

We're insulating our basement and partitioning off some rooms so we can move the TV down there, and the state of my mind reflects the state of our house: piles of things stacked haphazardly in a haze of sawdust. This all happened very suddenly; we'd been talking about doing it for a while and then one day my brother-in-law (who's a builder) announced he could start tomorrow if we wanted. And everything's snowballed from there. Plumbers and electricians must be called; bids must be gotten; decisions must be made. Somewhere in there I got sick and spent several weary days sneezing and sniffling and coughing: my body's way of saying stop! But I can't stop right now.

I am very tired. I have enough energy for just one thing at a time. But I am doing many things all at once, sucking just enough capacity to make it from the marrow of my bones.

I'll be traveling in April to work at my company's big yearly conference and then spending a few days with my Dad, who happens to live in the same town I'll be in. I'm looking forward to that. I'm aiming towards it, falling towards it like a bull's-eye. And then I can rest.

Tomorrow will be a baking day. We're having a surprise belated birthday party dinner for my father-in-law on Sunday, and my mother-in-law requested my white chocolate amaretto cake. I'll make this cake at the drop of a hat, because I LOVE it. So there's that, and then there are a couple very mushy brown bananas in the fridge that want to be banana bread, yum. I'm going to try a new banana bread recipe from a cookbook I just bought: Mad Hungry: Feeding Men and Boys.

I love cookbooks, though I don't cook or bake nearly as often as I think about doing it. Oddly, when I was in college, I cooked a lot more than I do now. Of course then all I had to do was please myself. It's more difficult to please a couple of carnivores who would just as soon you mash up the vegetables into an indistinguishable pulp so they don't know what they're eating. If I had my druthers I'd eat vegetables ALL THE TIME, with the occasional poultry/fish/steak thrown in for seasoning.

Mark Bittman is my favorite cookbook writer. I picked up his The Minimalist Cooks at Home off the shelf in the Linden Hills library, and it changed my life, I'm not kidding. I roasted my first chicken by following his directions, and found out it was easy! He's so comforting and matter-of-fact, too: "There is a certain boldness of spirit you need to roast a bird this way. After twenty minutes of cooking, you will be certain that the skin is going to burn in spots, but have faith."

Cook's Illustrated is also awesome. I found one of my now-favorite recipes, for a Spanish tortilla, in the July/August 2009 issue. It was like an answer from the universe, because I'd just sampled a Spanish tortilla at Whole Foods and was wondering how I could make it myself (because darned if I'm going to spend eight bucks on a tiny hockey puck made of potatoes and onions, no matter how good it tastes).

I also love essays about cooking. I keep meaning to read Julia Child's My Life in France, and also that book that was recently made into a movie, Julie & Julia (is it worth reading)? And I love Laurie Colwin's book of essays, Home Cooking. Which reminds me I ought to read her follow-up, More Home Cooking, one of these days.

This morning my car got stuck in the snow, half in the driveway and half in the alley. Ten minutes later, sweating and trembly and out of breath, I finally got the back wheels unstuck and made it to daycare before the school bus did. My son was in the car the whole time, hollering, "Mommy? Mommy! Can I help? I'm good at moving snow! Mommy? Are we still stuck?" Me: "STAY IN THE CAR PLEASE."

I am SO SICK of winter right now, I must say, but around mid-February I always feel that way. When we get another snow in March, as we invariably do, I'm sure I'll be happy to see it.

I've been thinking about giving up something for Lent this year, which I've done the past couple of years, but a talk with a friend at lunch yesterday made me think perhaps I should try adding something positive instead of subtracting. Exercise for fifteen minutes a day? Go to bed at a decent time every night? Or maybe write something every day?

I'm going to write something every day. (I just decided this.) Maybe not always a post online. Maybe something just for myself, sometimes. I miss writing. Sometimes I don't know what I really think about something until I've written it down. I've been feeling a little stuck lately, and I don't know what to do with the feeling, or even exactly where it's coming from. Maybe I can write my way to the center of it.

Well, here I am. Mostly just poking around and figuring things out at the moment. I like what I see so far! I'm going to import my LJ eventually, and maybe start cross-posting...