One In Four?

Yesterday the Center for Disease Control released the results of a study on teens and sexually transmitted diseases. It seems that one out of every four teenage girls is infected with an STD. Now before you hurt your head trying to mentally tally up every teenage girl you know, you will be relieved to know that the experts have a plan to solve this crisis. The first step in this plan is to step up education efforts to let teens know that you can have and spread an STD without showing any symptoms. Step two is to make sure teens know they can tell their doctors anything without fear of their parents being told.

Are you kidding me? Have we lost all vestiges of common sense? The growing teen pregnancy rate as well as this new horrifying statistic are direct results of the willingness of parents to abdicate their authority to the state. We let the pop culture and media dictate the morality of our youth, the public school systems determine what information they will be given regarding sexuality, and doctors serve as the confidants. We are already on a very slippery slope leading us rapidly into becoming a government-led society. The state will have the last word when it comes to our children. And, in case you were wondering, that governmental philosophy is called communism.

We need to stop pushing so-called tolerance at the expense of old-fashioned morality. It is not intolerant to promote a higher standard of conduct. We need to purge our discourse of euphemistic terminology--such as "experimentation" and "safe sex"--and reattach the full weight that ought to belong to sexual relationships. What our teens need to be taught is that there is no such thing as recreational, casual, or safe sex. We won't even let our children drive under the age of 16, and then, not without intensive instruction and licensing. They are held accountable for their conduct behind the wheel, but we as a society seek continually to remove accountability for sexual conduct, handing out condoms and insulating teens from the parental consequences that are the main tools for shaping appropriate behavior among children.

So, here's my revolutionary proposal. Let's cut off the experts' access to our children and put the authority back in the hands of the parents. I know it sounds like a long shot, but it just might work.

The Evils of Cross Voting

If a man puts on a dress he does not become a woman--not even if he includes all the details right down to the lacy undies. No matter the quality of his disguise, his lack of genuine femininity renders him unsuited to serve as a representative for females.

Open primary voting allows for the same distortion of reality. As long as presidential nominees are selected by parties, only the members of those parties ought to have a say in selecting the nominee. Abuse of an open system is going to happen, with voters trying to swing the opposition party's vote in their own party's favor. However, the greater threat lies in the more subtle impact of allowing voters who lie in some undefined middle ground between the Democratic and Republican parties to influence the course of any group with whom they share no affiliation.

The argument that open primaries increase voter turnout has no validity to those of us who adhere to a specific party and embrace a certain set of political principles, only to have those principles altered by those outside the party.

Those voters who truly cannot decide between the two major parties and feel compelled by conscience to register as Independents ought to pour their political fervor into putting forth stronger third party candidates who most fully represent their ideals. If they lack the interest or inclination to do so, that is so much more reason for them to abstain from primary elections.

No Fair (Tax)

Even if there wasn't some undefinable quality I didn't like about former governor and current Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee, his enthusiasm for the so-called "fair" tax would be enough to cost him my support. Now, I know it feels good to hear phrases like "abolish the IRS" and "fair tax," but no one votes on emotion, right?

The basic idea behind the fair tax is to eliminate the income tax, replacing it with a national sales tax. In order to provide the federal government with the same level of revenue it currently receives, this sales tax would have to be somewhere in the neighborhood of 30%. Of course, this would be on top of the state sales tax. We can't deprive the state governments of their fair share of our incomes, after all.

Gone will be the days of rewarding individual charitable donations through the deduction system. Instead we will have a nation crippled ever more by debt, as credit card balances bear the brunt of consumption-based taxation.

Daniel Isn't Talking, by Marti Leimbach

A friend of mine gave me an advance copy of this book this past spring. It intrigued me right away, but I decided to save it for a summer vacation read. The payoff for delayed gratification is always sweet, and the indulgence of reading for pleasure for the first time all year was delicious indeed.

However, there was a certain factor I didn't count on. The simple honesty of the author allowed for both humor and poignance. It evoked every feeling I experienced when my own son was diagnosed just over eight years ago. Very effective, yes, but not exactly the ticket for a vacation diversion.

---

"I am alert to everything, to the gentle rising of Daniel's chest, the warmth of his breath upon my cheek. I watch him sleep and I have only one wish for him. A wish that should never need be: that he was normal. Just normal. Just an average child. Not a superstar, not a genius, just a kid." ~page 70

---

Just like Melanie, the book's heroine, I remember that longing so very keenly. I remember weeping over my child as he slept, mourning the loss of my dreams for his future. Unlike Melanie, it took me a good deal more time to find my way into building new dreams. More time to learn not to trust every so-called expert. More time to step out of denial, through depression, and get to work.

This book is a universally true picture of all the components of that dreaded diagnostic phase. It will bring its readers who have never been touched directly by autism as close as they would ever want to get to feeling the terrible desperation that comes of watching your child's personality be stolen away. This is a story that took courage to write and is full--from the first word to the last--of unflinching integrity.

Fun, Sun, and Seagulls

I confess to not being overly fond of seagulls. Austin, however, is completely enthralled with them. He has practically worn out the seagull section of his birdbook and has perused the internet for every piece of info he could find on the creatures. As we departed on a vacation to the shore, the seagulls were what he most looked forward to seeing. He can identify by sight or sound each type of gull. Not only that, but he can imitate their calls with suprisingly convincing accuracy. This then, is the engaging side of his disorder.

Austin's favorite birding website is Cornell's All About Birds.

Then there is the other side--the side I've mainly stopped worrying about explaining to strangers. This is the side that sent Austin screaming when we tried to persuade him to ride the kiddie bumper cars. This is the side that compelled him to lock himself in the hotel bathroom because he couldn't tolerate all our "blabberdy-blabbering" (known to us as conversation). This is also the side that had him loudly calling the two women in the pool with us "wimpy donkeys".

But, being the parent of a child with autism has taught me to celebrate the smallest gains and improvements. Austin may not have gone on the bumper cars, but he did get (twice) on a different ride in which the cars go around a small track. He may not go in for conversation, but he managed to write a three-sentence postcard to his grandparents. And, for the first time ever, he did not sob inconsolably all the way home because vacation was over. And, for me, that is the best souvenir ever.

Carter (left) and Austin (right) check out some African penguins.

Bits and Pieces

Austin does not like me to sing. It's ironic, really. When he was only 3, virtually the only way I could get him to listen to me was to sing everything. I was just 27 then--a young bewildered mother of one--and I would spontaneously compose such engaging masterpieces as "It's Time to Get Dressed" and "Come to the Table for Dinner". It was my ace in the hole if I wanted his attention. These days, though, my singing is generally met with contortionist ear-covering which, since that is not sufficient to block all sound, is accompanied by his own loud humming, talking, screaming, whatever it takes to obliterate the sound of my voice.

We have done two rounds of
Auditory Integration Training
with Austin with mild,
though significant, results.

My once little boy is now 11 (and a half). He's already a belligerent pre-pubescent with a very strong personality. But I can match him, being now a seasoned 36-year-old mother of two. My youngest, Carter, is now six and blissfully neuro-typical (that's PC for "normal" for those uninitiated of you). My boys are inseparable, a bond I indulge by homeschooling them both.

My days are spent enmeshed in the business of education and therapy. This is not what I thought my life would be. When Austin was born, I fully intended to pursue some self-aggrandizing career once he was old enough to enter the school system. In my life as an only child, I had never really had occassion to learn the virtue of self-sacrifice. It still doesn't go down easy every day and the results aren't always pretty. But I'm in there with my sleeves rolled up, hacking my way through the lot that chose me.

So, I will let this serve as the barest of introductions to my world. The rest you will have to get in bits and pieces as I share my unexpected journey with you.