The Enemy, The Couch: The “Adult-Kid On My Sofa” is One of My Disability Nightmares

~ Laura

I don’t think I was born a neurotic person. Rather, I believe that writing a 200-page dissertation, while making a baby and working, forced me to develop superhuman discipline skills. I wouldn’t be first person to say that their PhD dissertations made them crazy.

Years later, I still live my life with military precision. Some might call my methods “rigid” (Hello, Jonah), but I choose to think of my systems as highly effective. Lists, color coded calendars, and strict rules for life keep me moving ahead on my various personal and career goals. 

Raising kids is definitely a task that involves goals and lists, especially in our crazy suburban world of sports schedules and college applications. Add a disability onto that kid, and the job gets even crazier — IEP meetings, therapy schedule, doctor appointments, and long term planning. It’s a lot. Raising a kid with a disability sometimes requires the skills of Fortune 500 executive secretary.

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Published by Laura

5 thoughts on “The Enemy, The Couch: The “Adult-Kid On My Sofa” is One of My Disability Nightmares”

  1. My neurotypical kid kind of false-launched this fall (started at university and then due to a massive chain of miscommunication on the university’s side, wasn’t actually enrolled – but the not enrolled was also due to not meeting a requirement that he should have easily met, although pandemic idiocy was a factor as well) and he laid on the couch for long enough that I panicked. The first few days (he found out when he couldn’t log into his classes, after he bonded with his classmates and turned in assignments), I wasn’t sure he was going to get out of bed.

    Lately he signed himself up for a blacksmith course and I’m driving him back home after it tomorrow. (This relates to his end goals.) Now that he’s engaging in life again, I can see that the fallow period, even if it hurt my GenX ‘walk it off’ soul, was important to him figuring out he does want to get up and fight to get to those goals.

    I agree with you that failure is a part of learning, but *whoa* is it hard to trust that.

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  2. So here’s a monetization idea: work up a talk to give at colleges on how they can attract and retain neurodiverse students. My university is looking into this – prompted by a student who got a small grant to support a “sensory regulation” room – and is working to add assistance for autism and neurodiversity to the “accessibility resources” we offer.

    My school is too poor to ever do this well, but if we are looking into it, I bet there will be a bunch of SLACs and state flagships and others – maybe not the Ivies, but the better-off community colleges and 4-years – who will be looking for information about it. Then you can charge them a bunch of money to consult and speak, and keep giving the webinars for parents for free.

    af

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      1. Yeah, it might take you some time to get on their radar but if you are working with any local autism groups they might know what colleges are making efforts in this area. If there is any state funding for colleges to increase accessibility you could keep an eye on that too. (I think there was some state money here, though I’m not sure.) The disability resource centers at colleges might be receptive, too – both DRC heads I knew here have been delightful, imaginative people looking to increase accessibility across the board as part of a broader social justice mission.

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    2. af wrote, “So here’s a monetization idea: work up a talk to give at colleges on how they can attract and retain neurodiverse students.”

      Very nice!

      AmyP

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