Robots & Rainbows
Our Story of Asperger’s Syndrome
by
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"Kynda, I think you're pregnant."
"What? “ I exclaimed. “Mom, I don't think so! Just because Kortney popped out a kid doesn't mean I will. You just have babies on the mind."
Kortney is my younger sister. Four days after Thanksgiving, she gave birth to the first grandchild of the family. At first, my mother was horrified by the fact that some little person would call her, a former beauty queen, Grandma, Grandmomma, or (heaven forbid) Granny. Once Mom came to the realization that she could go shopping for this little bundle of joy, her opinion on the subject had changed - and so had her name. She was now known as "Nana." Secretly, we all call her Crazy Nana Kay.
“I don't have babies on the brain. Kynda, listen to me for a minute. How can you be so sure you're not pregnant?"
"Mom, I know where babies come from, all right? I vividly remember the sex education talks at the kitchen table."
Okay, let me make something very clear here. I grew up in the 1970's during the whole Title IX thing with regards to women's rights in schools and in athletics. My mother, who was then a high school teacher and coach, sued an area school district for discriminating against female students and for prohibiting her from teaching sex education in class. Long story short: she won the lawsuit. Ever since then, my mother's mission has been to raise independent, freethinking girls.
Kortney and I grew up in a world of: "That's sexist, girls! No, you can't watch The Brady Bunch. You really think a wife will stay at home with six kids who share three bedrooms now days? What kind of architect designs a three-bedroom house for six children! No way.” “Fred Flintstone and George Jetson are sexist pigs. You know they could do the laundry and fix dinner if they really wanted to! They are more than capable." Besides restricting certain television shows (which by the way, my sister and I could begin watching The Brady Bunch after we told Mom that Marsha beat Greg in a driving contest), we had very open discussions about the matters of sex. We would all meet at the kitchen table to have our 'talks.' My first memorable talk took place in the kitchen when I was six years old. I remember it well. I got to stay up until 10pm. The kitchen had white cabinets and a black and white floor. I believe a Bay City Rollers song was playing on the kitchen radio. Mom had various pictures and encyclopedias spread across the table. I think I am still somewhat mesmerized by all of those transparencies of the human body.
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About the Book
In the beginning, he read instruction manuals. Directions were not enclosed and there was no warranty; so pieces were slowly put together. Who says there are no manuals for raising a child? There are numerous, self help books and mounds of paper testimonials regarding proper parenthood. Where are the Google search guides or Cliff Notes for parents with a child who has Asperger’s Syndrome? Is there a book which helps parents prepare for a child who doesn’t seem like the other kids? Perhaps there is a text that explains why a child feels compelled to flap his hands like a fish in Wal-Mart or why he can’t maintain eye contact while playing next to a classmate. Kynda Nembhard humorously shares her anecdotal notes about the uniqueness of her autistic son, Seann. The reader can begin the initial travels with Kynda’s animated son, who at the age of four, tells daycare providers about sacrifices to the mummy god, Ra. She tries to use the genetic insight of her parents that was passed onto her, but sometimes it just didn’t work for the boy from Whether it is trying to bring her son out of the fog of the autism spectrum, or just trying to prove to herself that she has the confidence to be a good parent; this book shares the journey of a son and mother. The outside of the box is sturdy but the prize inside is hidden. Directions are included —put pieces together slowly. In an Erma Bombeck fashion, Kynda Nembhard copes with parenting, works with teachers, visits doctors, and raises a son.
About the Author
Kynda Nembhard is a married mother of two children and lives in