Night and Day...

Everybody has a reason for the way that they are, whether its because of family, friends, experience or time. I just never realized how closely linked my personality is to my family, at least until Mother's Day.

Now, even though I am becoming a new Mommy, i'm still not one yet. So, to celebrate Mother's Day, I got my pregnant butt out of bed and decided to make my mom breakfast! (Also, celebrating the fact that my mom finally came home from Florida, yayyayayayayayayayayayayay!) Somehow, I managed to convince my brother to get his butt out of bed to help me out and the two of us proceeded to cook and clean. I was in the middle of rocking out to Foo Fighters on Pandora and cleaning dishes and giving orders to my brother of what he could do to help clean until we were ready to cook, while the boy peeked in at our progress and generally made fun of my newly developed waddle. (OMG, i'm waddling!!) As we progressed, the boy suddenly stopped me in my tracks with a question..."Why don't you just tell DR what to do all at once, instead of one task at a time?" Both me and my brother stopped what we were doing, looked at each other, and I immediately regressed to the age of twelve.

At twelve, I was not thrilled to have my weeknights and some weekend nights filled with "Play tag with the five year old." Of course, neither of my parents were thrilled to be leaving me in charge of my autistic five year old brother. (We wouldn't find out he actually had a much milder form of Autism, known as Asperger's Syndrome for another 3 years.) But, my father had lost his job, and we didn't have but so many options at the time, so babysitting and cooking, along with homework and making sure DR did kindergarten homework, (Did you color your sheet for school? YES! SEEEEEEEE! Ok, ok!) was part of my life. One particular night, I was desperate to be semi-normal for five minutes of my pre-pubescent life, and really just wanted to watch 90210, and NOT entertain my goofy brother. But, dinner had to be made, the family room was a mess and homework had not even been attempted in my world, (though DR's had been accomplished in 6 minutes...) so I decided to get DR to pitch in and help. I asked him to pick up trash on the floor, put his homework away, and pull out silverware from the drawer, since dinner was almost done. I went back to cooking whatever it was that I was cooking, when 5 minutes later, I heard a wail and ran into the next room to find DR running in circles with a half filled trash bag lying on the floor and tears streaming down his face. There are very few things in the world more terrifying than finding your five year old brother running in manic circles around a trash bag, and there not being any blood you can see coming out of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to catch a glimpse of me, and immediately ran into my arms, crying hysterically. Through the blubber of tears, I managed to catch "Too much...I can't remember." In my effort to treat my brother "normal", (such a crock of crap...nobody's normal) I had overwhelmed him, which, comparatively speaking, is like informing me that I'm in charge of making sure a nuclear power plant doesn't blow up the lower 48 states. I'd be crying and running in circles too. That was the day I learned that not everybody learns the same and not everyone can be expected to do the same thing in the same way.

My brother and I are night and day. I'm talkative, sociable, happy, a multi-tasking, organizational, 3 calenders just to inform me when my baby is coming, giggling, outgoing kind of gal. I'm semi-witty, but mostly just funny on purpose (and accident). DR is introverted, careful, mistrusting of those he doesn't know (for good reason), intelligent, disorganized, messy, one step at a time, would walk out the door without his head if it wasn't attached to his body, observant kind of guy. He's funny when he doesn't try to be, and is actually really great once you get to know him. But getting to know him is like trying to break through a brick wall. I'm practically an open book.

I handle change well, or relatively well for a 27 year old neurotic who tries and fails miserably at planning her life. My brother's life is literally over for 5 minutes if something of importance to him is moved from one room to the next, never mind death, moving to another state or any major life changing event that could happen to any of us at any moment. Yet, he's taught me to not let your neurosis stop you from doing the things you want to do. Harsh reality moment: DR had accomplished more adventures by the age of 19, than I had at 25. Ever hiked 50 miles of the Appalachian trail? I haven't even hiked one. The most accident prone, least athletically skilled out of all of us Flahertys, and he hikes and canoes and swims and falls down the side of mountains. He hiked and canoed 50 miles of the Appalachian trail at age 16. At age 17, he performed at Carnegie Hall, along with 25 of his peers. This is not a person who does well with crowds either. He was courted by MIT, Harvard and countless other prestigious universities and colleges across the United States, well, before freaking out and deciding to stay home and go to school here. He's making plans to hike the whole of the Appalachian trail. He may not have many friends, but the ones he does have, he trusts completely and they understand him completely, neurotic craziness and all.

So, why am I the way I am? Because life has taught me that no ones catches all the good or all the bad. Because my brother is younger than me, but has taught me more than I could ever hope to teach him. Because if my asperger's syndrome brother can accomplish what he has accomplished (which is more than I could ever list), why can't I do the same?

The truth, is that my brother has been the one person in my life who has taught me more about tolerance, acceptance, and understanding than imaginable. He's not perfect, but than again, neither am I , and neither is anyone else. Somehow or another, he turned me into a leader and a pretty good teacher. I have no clue if this is actually going to help me in life, in the end, since I can't seem to find a halfway decent job without moving to Billings, Montana (and I don't like snow THAT much). But it feels like a start. Nothing is ever perfect. But, if you plow through it and keep going, maybe you can walk away with a feeling of satisfaction for the things you have accomplished. Let go of the things you can't control, and be happy with what you have. Strive for more, but be satisfied with what you have done.