"The Talk" (September 26, 2011)

It was bound to happen sooner or later; a heart to heart talk with my son who has autism. It’s not as if I haven’t been conversing to him all along, explaining what I knew and how we were going to take care of issues as they arose. But this talk was mind boggling and would change the course of his life.

He was angry with me for expecting so much from him each morning. He had to get out of bed within twenty minutes of me asking or else. He had to make his bed, pick up his dirty clothes and get a fresh set of clean clothes including jeans, shirt, underwear and socks. And it had to happen within ten minutes of getting out of bed. He was also asked to shower, eat the breakfast I cooked for him, clean his glasses and take his meds within ten minutes of being asked.

These wouldn’t seem like difficult tasks unless someone has autism, then they can be overwhelming; especially for the parent demanding these routines to be performed each and every morning. After spending years raising a child with autism, it appears the majority of the time spent teaching him is a futile wasteland. He doesn’t seem to appreciate what I’ve done for him and he’s angry that I’m the one making him do anything all.

Yesterday, a Sunday morning, after being directed and redirected many times, we finally got out of the door to go to church, but he still forgot to shave. I brought his electric razor with us and asked him to look into the mirror on the way to church to see what he was doing and make sure he didn’t miss any facial hairs. He balked, ranted, mumbled under his breath, and then he cried. Thus it has been my morning routine since he hit puberty.

Unless someone has experienced autism firsthand there is no way to adequately explain the constant drain on your resources, namely your sanity. Being patient as I can be, I tried to reason with an unreasonable child whose mind was locked in a toddler tantrum yet his body was morphing into a man. For whatever reason, NOW seemed like a good time to have that talk.

His younger brother was in the backseat of the car listening, and pretty much ignoring the scene unfolding before him. He’s witnessed the meltdowns before and has become accustomed to them. However, this morning something was different. This morning his brother raised his voice and said I’m not stupid. And to that I replied, I’ve never thought you were stupid. In fact, I believe you to be one of the smartest people I know. And then it was quiet.

He looked over at me and said but I have autism. I agreed with him and said that most people go through life not knowing what their trial or challenge is, but that he does. I told him that he alone can decide if autism would beat him or if he would beat it. I have been fighting this battle for almost sixteen years alone and if united with me there was no telling how far he would go. He thought about it for a moment.

I went on to explain that he thinks differently than most people but that simply means he processes information in other ways. He has to learn how to get what is inside his head out where people can see what he knows. Is it hard? Absolutely, I’ve been trying to get him to do this for years. I was the one who diagnosed his autism when he was two years old. It took me a year to get the medical profession on board. I fought to get him into the autism school, and then I fought to get him into his homeschool in his school district. I fought for a one on one paraprofessional then I continued to fight each and every step of the way. I never missed an IEP meeting. In fact, I usually called them. I was his voice, his advocate, his cheerleader. I alone stood up to the schoolboard, teachers, etc. I called them into accountability and demanded that they give him a chance.

He quietly thought about what I was saying. No one said anything for a moment. Then I went on and explained that he could choose how far he would go and I would support whatever choice he decided. Autism may make it difficult to communicate, but it doesn’t mean that it cannot happen. It also does not mean that a person is stupid. It simply causes him to think differently. Most people with autism are very creative and can find their niche in life if allowed. I was pleading with my son to stop fighting me, the one who has fought for him and join me to find his place in the world.

The rest of the day went smoothly. He asked questions when he needed something, he interacted with his siblings and he did his homework without too much redirecting. He packed his snacks in his lunchbox after only one reminder. He got his clothes laid out for school. He put away his belongings. He seemed more focused and determined.

This morning, a Monday, he got out of bed easier than ever. He was ready quicker and was calm. It appears that the talk we had not quite twenty-four hours prior had an effect on him. He had chosen to be the author of his life story instead of merely a character in it. There were no tears, no repetitive directions, no arguing, cajoling, etc. They even left early for the bus.

The battle is not over; but we have reached an extremely important turning point. Acknowledging that there is a war to be waged is the first step in overcoming it. Aligning allies is another. And I am the most tenacious ally that my son can ever hope for in his lifetime, followed closely by his siblings. I’ve fought this battle long before he realized there was one to be fought, and I won’t give up until I have breathed my last breath. Autism can be mastered.

"How's that for irony?"

As I reflect on the array of experiences I’ve had, I can’t help but notice the brazen irony I’ve experienced throughout my life. Someone used to say of me, “she can make a short story long.” It was an implication that I was incompetent and inferior to others as that offhanded, belittling remark was made to remind me to sit down and shut up. However, once I removed him from my life, I realized that I had a unique talent for storytelling. And that’s not exactly the same thing as being told you’re worthless.

To this day that person cannot effectively communicate his thoughts, feelings or desires to others and finds my ability to do so overwhelming remarkable. Nevertheless, his envy prohibits him from acknowledging errors as he continues to passive aggressively criticize everything I do or say. The stronger I become, the less his behavior affects me but the more he attempts to re-claim control. I have long since moved on, but he has become an embittered soul. Paradoxically, I pray for him but refuse to engage in a toxic relationship with him.

Avoidance of drama has become incredibly vital in my life despite the fact that I have children. When I first became a mother, I was overwhelmed by the enormous, never-ending responsibility. I did not have good parenting role mentors, so I un-parented to compensate for the lack of constructive instruction. I only knew what not to do, so I didn’t do it. My parenting niche emphatically evolved into a profoundly close relationship with all six of my children.

Deliberately I use humor to distract undesirable behavior because I was not embarrassed to act like an idiot in order to change my children’s attitudes and moods. I expect my children to do their best in whatever it is they desire. I insist on being respected as I show respect to them and to others, even if I don’t receive it. How I choose to respond to others is a testimony of my standards. I have long since discovered that I can only control what I do and I’m not responsible for others’ actions or words. While I will advocate for those who cannot do so for themselves, I will walk away from unnecessary drama every single time.

It took me a long time to realize that I had the ability to say no without remorse. It was always my prerogative to say no, I won’t tolerate abusive language and actions towards me and yet for years I allowed it. I will continue be kind and compassionate because I refuse to allow others to change my landscape. I will persist to discover my talents, explore my options and learn new things. It was in losing sight of my comfort zone that I understood that the world was a much bigger and beautiful place than I could ever imagine. My life has been touched by so many very good people and some not so much. I have learned something from all of them though; personality traits in others that I’d like to improve upon in me and which lifestyles I simply loathe. My life has been truly blessed through many trials and tribulations, but it only made me strong. How’s that for irony?

"Chronicles of a Single Mom"

this is not a tale for the faint of heart...

leave now before you either learn something or I piss you off...

(and if I'm "lucky," I'll do both!! ;) 

I have always dreamed of having a large, closeknit family, living in a nice house surrounded by a white picket fence, and a clothesline in the backyard with sheets on it blowing in the wind, among other things...

my reality is so much different... 

I have six children who sometimes think that I only exist to fulfill their every wish & desire...

including but not limited to cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, shopping, attending every single function and photographing it even if it's their first zit, stubbed toe or they dress up the family's animals in socks and underwear... 

I will not sleep for days on end in order to ensure my children are nursed back to health, school projects are completed, and travel to remote destinations with little to no money to support their accomplishments...

 I have refused medical attention for broken/sprained limbs, pneumonia, ear infections, kidney stones, etc. for an extended period of time to make sure that my kids' needs are met and because there just simply wasn't enough time for me to take care of me...

I have spent countless hours traveling to and from medical appointments in three different states to discover why my 3rd son is allergic to life and how to best heal him...

I have left the hospital within hours of giving birth to go Christmas shopping because my 4th baby was born 8+ weeks premature, and if I didn't provide the gifts, then there would have been nothing under the Christmas tree that morning...

I have shown my kids by example how and why to be charitable to others, even though it rarely, if ever, is reciprocated... 

I have stayed up all night nursing newborn pups or a bearded dragon only to have it pass away in my arms, because I refused to have it "cross over" all alone...

I was in the hospital room when my mother and brother passed away, and it has adversely affected the way I feel about furnerals forever...

I have spent endless hours listening to my children cry over their young heartbreaks, all the while my marriage was disintergrating due to his infidelities, but I had no one to turn to myself...

I have promised my children that true love does exist, not only in fairy tales, but in real life, though my experience has been far from the case...

I have laughed in front of my kids, when I wanted to cry, because if I don't hold it together, everything will fall apart...

I'm attempting to teach my children that I am not perfect, nor do I expect them to be perfect...

I have hopes, dreams, and desires that I wish to accomplish before my life is over...

I want them to discover, develop and achieve their talents and dreams as well...

I own up to my mistakes.

if I've learned something, then it becomes an experience...

and I always learn something.

I try to do my best in everything I decide to do because if it's worth doing,  it's worth doing well...

I don't half-ass anything.

do-overs cost more than just time and money...

it's a waste of your talent as well. 

I am a spiritual being having a human experience.

I have emotions, feelings, and disappointments...

after I ensure my kids are bathed, clothes are out for the next day, prayers are said, homework is done, papers are signed, etc., I kiss them goodnight (they hardly ever even know), I go to my room and usually cry myself to sleep...

it's hard being alone.

the weight of the world rests on my shoulders and I have many depending on me to keep them safe, healthy, happy, without understanding the enormity of the task...

all my children know is that I am always there for them whenever they are in need, and especially if they don't even realize that they are in need...

I am their rock, sanctuary, stronghold, sentinel, guardian, teacher, guide, custodian and so much more...

no one can get to my children without first coming through me...

I am their strongest advocate and their fiercest ally.

I always have been and I always will be.

I've often said the best thing I could ever do for my children, other than give them life, was to give them each other...

when my brother, John died, a part of me died with him.

if not for my sister, Paula, I don't know what I would have done.

his death has continued to rock my world in ways that I still don't understand.

there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about or miss him.

because of that, it is important that my children are close to their siblings.

I don't have any magical powers, or newsworthy antidotes for raising children...

I simply love my children more than life itself.

they are my family that I prayed for when I was just a little girl.

I don't have parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles or other extended family.

but because I have my kids, I have been richly blessed.

my children don't often understand what I do or why I do the things I do, but that's okay for now.

but if I thought it would help, I would lay down my life for them.

that's because I love them unconditionally.

and there is no greater thing in life than love.