Max wants to work. He NEEDS to work. While i was putting paperwork together today, he went through six two liters of caffree diet pop and a week's supply of cheese sandwiches. (and bear in mind that he neither needs Mom's constant companionship, nor wants it.)
i am having a hard time figuring the paperwork out. "Did someone else help you with this?" Well, more like, i helped him, but yes, in two hours, over two sessions, i guided him to fill out the parts he could.
Then i tackled the hard part.
Some of it was just tracking stuff down in my mess that only appears organized: how much did he make at VSA? Names and addresses of his doctors? Some is more complicated: How do you identify the work he did at school? What grade did he complete, with 3rd grade skills but having put in 15 years? And when/how did he acquire his disability? i know he wasn't born with autism, nor is it from accident or illness.
Numbers and organization are not my strong points, but the whole thing really feels beyond me. And i kinda like to think i am a reasonably intelligent woman in full possession of my faculties yet.
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