Another Fine Use Of Vintage...

....too quick for me to grab the camera, Wilbur had just been sitting on these old imperial scales. I popped him back on, out of curiosity: he weighs 2 pounds. Don't ask me what that is in funny kg language... I can't/won't do metric, but its the same as a large bag of sugar;)

The gerbera plant next to the scales is Being Very Good and has 2 bee-yoo-ti-ful candy pink flahs now. Strange that, as when I bought it 6 or so weeks ago the flowers were cream'n'purple, the way passion fruit flowers are.  When I get my act together I'll put it in a bigger pot... who knows how big it could get or how many flahs we might get...?

In the Rest Of My Life, chaos reigns; the 14 year old has sort-of dropped out again, after 3 clashes with authority at school, each one sensationally mismanaged.... With that, and the long days off I have now that I'm not at the World of Work til after the summer holidays, I'm regularly dipping into The Bad Place that is inertia far too frequently. I've acquired more hauls of vintage frockery, which remain in bags until I can be arsed to to take photos.... I think I need a Plan Of Action...

***************

And now for the bit where I'm Not A Film Blogger But.... some lovely films I've seen recently:

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958) - when Liz Taylor died I realised to my shame I'd never seen any of her films, like Butterfield 8, Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf, Giant... This is the one with the iconic still of Liz wearing that white slip, great portrayal of family dynamics, especially if you're a daughter-in law...

A Very Long Engagement (2004, Audrey Tautou) - caught this accidentally late the other night and stayed up til stupid o'clock watching it as it was so lovely...

The Graduate (1967) - one I'd somehow never seen, more screamingly funny than I'd expected, and the frocks! The excellent hair! The chairs! The cigarettes! See it if you haven't... And obviously it has a dark undertow of tight morals, jealousies, and why getting married just because you're pregnant, like they had to do back In Them Times was So Wrong...

Moonrise Kingdom (2012, Wes Anderson) - lurved this, very very sweet and beautifully shot. Reminded me of Tim Burton's Big Fish...

Cosmopolis (2012) - I'll say nothing as this is new so don't want to risk a spoiler..... go see it and make your own minds up about this. Will it become seminal? Who can tell...

Diagnosis

Friday. An appointment at 2. Which always means that I do zilch with the rest of the day, using the getting ready, and getting to, as the "thing to do" for that day. It was with the psychiatrist who I succeeded in bribing the 14 year old to see 2 weeks and 2 days before. 2 days and 2 weeks of me wondering what she'd concluded from the mere hour (and bulging file of notes from other professionals) that she'd seen him for. Seen his anger, irritation, resentment...

There was a mix-up. I was supposed to have been at her other hospital. Not the one I'd had the previous two appointments in. No, one that I didn't have an address for or even a written appointment confirmation for - she'd just looked at her diary on-screen and given me a date to be there next. Only there was evidently not here, it was actually there. The receptionist took 20 minutes to decide to tell me I was in the wrong place, and hopes of progress fell through the floor. My assertive bolshy streak took over - was there not a way to ensure that the psychiatrist and I could have this meeting, albeit over the phone? There had to be a room I could use? Seeing as I couldn't get there now in such a short time, and she wasn't going to get over here? Phone call arranged, I was put into a room full of open files. Which I did not peek at. I just read a wallchart detailing what they do if parents refused to medicate their ADHD children.

She rang through, apologising profusely for the appointment mix-up, and I burbled apologies about making assumptions about where it would be. Then we ran through what she felt about the 14 year old.

Autistic Spectrum Disorder. Did she mean Aspergers? Yes, she did. Leaflets would be sent, letters written to the school, referrals to other services made. It confirmed what I'd long thought, so it was a relief, maybe I hadn't been a paranoid parent all these years.

But it hadn't been recognised until now - it often is hard to diagnose - so the 14 year old has been having a tough time for a few years, and has cut himself off. What now? How was I supposed to tell him there had been a "diagnosis"? That he has a recognised disability?

I got outside the building and any sense of relief, validation, vanished. I don't know what the future holds for him; maybe he won't ever get a job, am I going to have to tell his future partners? Maybe that's nothing to do with me...

Today I told him. I opened up the conversation with "if the school could give you a bit more help, what subjects would you think you'd like to concentrate on?" He named 3. I said maybe we could look at whether we could get that to happen, having another meeting with the school to see what they could offer him. Then I sort of wove into "well, you know that woman we went to see the other week? The one who sees quite a lot of people your age? Well, she thinks..... and that would mean you could get a lot more support". He told me to go away.