We are coming off an amazing March break. It was great for everyone. Things have just been…really good.
I feel as though, lately I’ve gotten to a really good place as far as raising a child with autism. Raising a special needs child.
I remember how numb each of those terms made me 6 years ago. How difficult it was to believe that those words were my new reality.
It’s taken a long time to realize that it’s best to live in the present than to concentrate too much on the future. That’s when I get nervous and anxious and a little numb. We focus on the things that we can do NOW to make his future better.
So far it’s working for us.
But every now and then, out of nowhere I’m pelted with those feeling I had all those years ago.
Like yesterday. The SERT (special ed. resource teacher) at our school stopped me in the hall to let me know that Cuyler was eligible to participate in the Special Athletes Track Meet this year.
“Oh really!?! That’s great! He’ll love it!” I said excitedly – when I was the farthest thing from excited.
I faked the enthusiasm and asked her to send the package home as soon she she gets it and that I couldn’t wait to talk to his EA about what event he could do. Blah blah blah…whatever.
I was struck with a wave of sadness and anxiety.
I was so perplexed by my internal reaction.
This is something that Cuyler can participate in and be successful in and feel pride in. Instead all I felt was her saying “YOUR KID IS DIFFERENT THAN ALL THE OTHER KIDS.”
This is something that Cuyler can participate in and be successful in and feel pride in. Instead all I felt was her saying “YOUR KID IS DIFFERENT THAN ALL THE OTHER KIDS.”
I’ve been feeling pretty normal for a while.
There have been birthday party invites.
I dropped all 3 kids off at March break camp last week for 3 (full) days. Cuy needed no support. Not a lot of parents with kids on the spectrum can do that.
Haircuts have been easy. He’s loving the osteopath. Trips to the mall or grocery store have been totally uneventful.
There just haven’t been any major issues with behaviours related to the autism lately.
I felt like I was coasting along and was tripped in the hallway today.
I feel guilty that this was my knee jerk reaction. Sadness.
Then I realized that it could be a symptom of my premenstrual state. Along with the zitty forehead. The slice of lemon raspberry cake I had after dinner with a side of 2 brownies and chug mug full of double hot chocolate was also another indication of PMS. And we can’t forget about the king size aero bar (totalling 330 calories – geezus)
Because really…there is nothing to be sad about.
Nothing.
Nothing.
(Well except maybe my muffin top which seems to be a bit more pronounced these days)
Here’s some Mum advice, “Doesn’t chocolate make PMS worse”? 🙂 Here’s some Zen Buddhism for those punch to the gut thoughts that are most unwelcome and leave such a sting. “Allow your thoughts to fly across your mind as a bird in the sky – there for a time and then leaving not a trace…” I just read it, like, two minutes ago. Because you are right, it is the thinking that does us in. That’s why I’m never thinking again…bring on the chocolate.
I don’t want to be trite, because I’m certainly not in your shoes. However, you are such a freaking good mom to all your kids. Thanks for sharing real emotions and real feelings- I love reading your blog because of that honesty!!
🙂 smile and a hug right backatcha!
Thank you for your lovely and kind words!
Grief is a totally fair word. Totally fair.
I cry less than I used to. But it still happens.
I’m not going anywhere either my friend! (especially now with the outlets – yippeeee!)
Ive called those moments ” It just isnt Fire-trucking Fair!!” moments..
Its the moments we allow outselves the grief, and I will personally own using the word grief for this description because im sure others dont feel this way… but I do- I grieve a little in my ” It just isnt Fire-trucking fair!!!” moments…. I smile and nod, dont really hear what your saying because my heart is breaking.. again, and I do grieve for something that may never be…and for what is… I just make it to the car to cry a little alone…and then its over..and I think of my thankful moments….
reading these, reflecting, and having someone to talk to…has made me so very thankful I have found a village.. and Im NOT moving……:)
Oh, you always have a way of so honestly and respectfully expressing your emotions, while still totally respecting your kids and letting your love for them shine through any negativity. You continue to amaze me.
Also, I hear you on the muffin top. Two months of boot camp, and while it’s smaller, it’s still THERE and I wonder if it’s here to stay. 🙂
No more chocolate! I’m swearing off of it til next week! My forehead is unforgiving these days. And I’ve been wearing my yoga pants for the past 3 days because my jean buttons are digging into my belly. I should probably go up a jean size – but I refuse.
And K is a ray of sunshine in his world. He was looking at pics of her on fb last night (while I was at the gym and he was updating my status and profile pic for me…oy!)
I love your honesty, Christine…it takes alot of courage to put all your feelings out there (for us all to read:) Despite feeling sad at time (and that’s okay), you should be so proud of what an amazing little guy you’ve raised him to be. He’s certainly a ray of sunshine in K.’s world! And as for the muffin top — please! You have no idea what a REAL muffin top looks like:) Have some chocolate for me:)
Totally get it. I’ve always said “normal” is boring (even though sometimes I need boring)
And I think Cuyler is different and MORE. There is just something about him that draws people to him. His charm. His dimple. His imagination. His laugh.
He’s pretty awesome.
And as Tracy said – he’s a terribly happy boy!
My thing is ‘different is the new normal’….do you know what i mean? Different learning needs, different kinds of families, different everything. And I come back to the Temple Grandin thing…Different but not less. I love this sentence. But most of all – you are entitled to feel sad dude. Totally. You’re doign awesome and can you deliver me an aero bar please??
Eileen – I’ve always said if god’s going to give me a child with autism, can he at least give me a pass on the PMS?!?!
Sometimes the two just DO NOT go well together.
Thanks Carrie – it’s a new day! You’d be proud of the quinoa salad I made this morning!
I can totally relate with every word written here. As normal as it feels, as much as I am fine coasting along raising my 3, one with autism, I still get tripped up every once and a while with those screaming YOUR KID IS DIFFERENT events. And yes, it still makes me sad. And yes, it is usually always around my PMS time.
LOVE the pic, he’s so handsome!!!
Just look at Cuy’s smile! Just makes you want to smile right back at him. Smile Christine 🙂
HUGS!
Great post! You are doing a great job. No comment on the junk food though-hahaha
Sorry you’re feeling the down part of the roller coaster these days – PMS be damned – I’m sending you hugs, lady. You’re doing a great job, Christine… That looks like a terribly happy boy! 🙂