What This World Needs

“I have concluded that no opportunity is so worthwhile, no circumstance is so urgent, that it should make us ditch our values and convictions.”
— Jordan Christy~ How to Be a Hepburn in a Hilton World

Being snow and ice bound the last several days has meant lots and lots of tv viewing. I have to admit that I am very disappointed at the portrayal of women on it. Before you think that I'm about to go off on some sort of feminist rant, bear with me. I grew up in the 70's & 80's. My mother was part of the original Ms. Magazine feminist wave. It's entrenched in my DNA.

I think that's why I feel the way I do.

Feminism allows women the freedom to choose. It allows us to have many more opportunities from working to being a stay at home mom-or to have a hybrid existence. It doesn't mean one or the other. We have choices of who our role models are. I've chosen this one:

10 [b]A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
11 Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
12 She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
13 She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.
14 She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.
15 She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her female servants.
16 She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
18 She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night.
19 In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
20 She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.
21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
22 She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

For me, this is a great role model and something I can aspire to. I'm not telling anyone else to make the same choices, although I'd be honored if you did. I'm not a fan of chickies who have it all hanging out, because you are more than your bodies. The fact that Victoria's Secret is now targeting kiddos my son's age scares me. Sexting and a rape culture is becoming more and more prevalent, as evidenced by the distribution of pictures and videos from two (unfortunately) high profile cases. The most tragic part is a young life ended because the perpetrators shared video of it. No respect, objectification, tragedy.


Many women feel that they need to subscribe to a package deal that to be a feminist you need to believe. If you don't then you're not on a feminist. It's a shame that being able to think for ones self is not a privilege. For a woman to proclaim she's proud to be a wife and mother, she's berated and bullied, called a traitor to the cause. If you-gasp-admit that you are a pro life conservative, you are marginalized. Feminism is about choice, not marching lock step into an ideology.

Despite all the forward progress of feminism, someone still needs to scrub the toilets, do the laundry and cook dinner. At the end of the day, it's my honor and privilege to do so for my family. I'm raising my son to take care of himself, so he will be an amazing husband and father some day-just like his daddy. I pray he finds a wife who is honorable and will be a great partner (because marriage is a partnership). I hope he's an Audrey fan, too

Things Ain't Like They Used To Be

Almost six weeks ago, I fractured my fibula. It was a clean break above my ankle (as a youth group helper pointed out, that's where your fibula is). It has limited my movement and hampered my ability to do things. I can't drive because its my right leg. Going up and down stairs is a challenge. Carrying packages-even a purse and my briefcase-knocks me off balance. My boot, in which my foot has been enshrined, weighs 12 pounds. It is 1 1/2 inches off the ground. I have one pair of shoes that are an equal heel height.
It's been a long journey.
No yoga for six weeks. I'm just starting to attempt chair yoga because my body is craving it. The good news is despite inactivity, I haven't gained any weight. The bad news is due to my
inactivity I haven't lost any weight.
I did get a little bike like thing that I can pedal in my chair. The disturbing thing is how much I've lost from not exercising for the last six weeks.
I was out of breath "cycling" for six minutes. Six minutes. It was sad and pathetic. I have to go back to 3 lb weights. I can do a crunch. Singular.
I'm not happy about it.
I'm still coming back from 2 surgeries, a devastating loss and clawing my way out of the pit. It's not easy, and I've backslid more than I've climbed. There are so many emotional reasons why I remain stuck in this. Its not an excuse, it's just a statement of fact. Recovery is hard. I struggle with making healthy food choices. Even harder is the quantity that I eat. I don't drink enough water. I don't exercise enough. I don't get enough rest. I am nutrient poor. I'm constantly on edge. My stress level is. perpetually on about 11.
It is, and it's up to me to change. Things ain't like they used to be.

http://youtu.be/hg-4IUXI8ps

Forget You

I am going to preface this with saying that my kid is pretty awesome, and I have been incredibly pleased with our school all along.
However, since third grade has started, a kid in my son's class has been picking on him mercilessly. I mean driving my son to tears, picking on him.
The kid called the little man a r*tard.
Hes made fun of him for some of the typical autistic behaviors-his tics.
He even made fun of the fact my son has strasbismus (lazy eye).
Sorry but in my opinion he's bullying my son.
Little Man is the sweetest, most gentle kid who would not deliberately hurt someone else. One of the beautiful things about autism is he is virtually incapable of lying and being mean.
This kid has my son so upset by all this, to the point that he doesn't want to go to school.
I'm heartsick.
Yesterday it all came to a head.
Bully boy was nagging Little Man all day. By the time afternoon recess came about, it had reached the tipping point.
Bully boy pushed little man.
Little man fell to the ground.
Little men hauled off and decked bully boy.
I normally dont advocate violence (that whole turn the other cheek thing) but in this instance, way to go little man!
Its the fact he stood up for himself, not that he hit someone.
They both earned a trip to the principals office. Little man learned his lesson.
Mama bear sprung into action. We have a plan to deal with it and hope that it never happens again.
If it does....well let's just hope I don't have to go all Jersey on them :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKbOpnwhS2A&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Everything You Want

I feel like ranting tonight. There are times when it's necessary. Being the parent of a child with autism is in turns scary, awesome, amazing and heartbreaking. I will admit that by autism community standards, I'm one of the "lucky ones": my son is verbal, he can function on his own in school for the most part, he can do things most autistic kids can't usually do.
For the most part, the autism is always there but not the deciding factor in life. It doesn't control him. Usually.
The past few weeks have been incredibly challenging for our family, especially for my son, who can't always express what's going on in his head or heart. The emotional roller coaster we've been on has been traumatic for me, let alone him.
Autistic kiddos can have a tic that they may use as a self stimulating behavior (stims). It's a way to calm or soothe themselves. When little man was younger, he flapped his hands like a bird. Then it was pulling his one shoulder up so he looked like Quasimodo. Currently it alternating between shaking his head and pulling his nose up compulsively. He doesn't even realize he's doing it, which can be quite maddening sometimes.
Then there are the moods. For the most part, my kid is happy. Complete and total bliss 98% of the time. However that means 2% of the time it can, pardon the French, suck big time. When these dark clouds move in, its not listening and tantrums. We fight over homework. We fight over going to bed and getting up in the morning. We become super picky eaters. We are obsessed with one thing and it's a compulsion. The tics are more noticeable. We don't want to do ANYTHING.
To make it worse, few people can relate. My fellow autism support group parents are all over the spectrum & I feel like I'm being petty. My friends with non autistic children don't get it, or tell me that's how boys are.
No, they are not.
My son can rage for hours, although he hasn't had one of those in a long time. He still has meltdowns and it's harder to explain them away at age 9 vs age 4. The disapproving looks people give you as your child is screaming at you in public are a stab through the heart.
These dark moods increase when he's stressed out or about to grow. Or both. It's not like we have had any stress lately...
So this past week has been an unmitigated disaster. Forgetting schoolwork. Back talk. Melt downs & attitude. Not wanting to eat anything. The sleep/wake cycle all disturbed. I'm exhausted, quite literally before I even got to work this week-with the added bonus of still recovering from surgery and the death of a dream. Mommy needs to wine.
All the "fun" stuff we were supposed to do this week didn't happen:
Cookie decorating at Sunday School
Christmas party at Youth Group on Wednesday
Neither one did we go to.
Last night we went to a kids party and he was in a "mood" so it was a brief stay.
Tonight we were going to a basketball game. The mood had endured.
I want my son to experience life so fully and have all sorts of opportunities and experiences. When the best laid plans fall through and the week is shot to heck like this past week had been, it hurts. It makes me feel like its a parenting fail. I struggle with not taking it personally, but you know what, it does hurt, and I do wind up taking it personal. When your kiddo is screaming at you and refuses comfort, it rips your heart out of your chest. When you exhausted all forms of reason and begging, that screaming at the top of your lungs is the only response you can think of in that moment, you feel like the worst mother in the world. When you can't take hearing about this weeks obsession another second and you snap because he's not listening when you say enough is enough, you feel like just total crap. When twitter is your only release because you've found a community of other moms & dads in the same boat, you at least know you are not alone.
There are days when I wish because I said so is an option.
There are days when I wish I could have that golden hour after he went to bed.
There are days when I just wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all better.
But I can't.
It's when it's dark out that I remind myself that it was because of autism we are a family.
I remind myself of all the joy and love he has brought to me.
I remind myself of all the good qualities he has.
It sustains me, because you have to deal with the rain if you want to see the rainbow.

All By Myself

I am in the mood to rant this morning. I heard through the support network grapevine yesterday that another autism family has been blown apart. The divorce rates amongst families of autistic children is 10 times the national average.
10 times.
Your liklihood of having a happy marriage AND an autistic child is almost non existent. Think about it, we basically have to choose between our child or our spouse.
So, another family has been torpedoed by an autism diagnosis, and living with it.
I am one of the lucky ones, supposedly. My son has language skills, he doesn't exhibit a lot of outward behaviors, and is in a regular class at school. It is wonderful, and I spent a lot of time when he was younger developing his social skills. But it is exhausting. Constantly reminding him what needs to be done, over and over, grinds on me.

Its not that I don't have a lot to do normally either. I work full time at a mentally and emotionally demanding job and basically another 25 hours or so for the church. I love both roles, and I think that I am pretty darn good at both of them. I have a home to take care of, and of course my family. Me time consists of getting up at 5 AM to work out and lots of naps. I am spent, and there is nothing in the reserve tank.
This, I have since discovered, is common amongst spectrum mommies. Im sure fathers feel the same things, but its not as evident.
Spectrum mommies have the world on their shoulders, and believe me its pretty darn heavy.
People ask me how things are, and today is my time to tell them all:
I am tired and frustrated, most of the time. I try to convince my kid EVERY NIGHT that sitting down and doing homework is a good thing. I have to convince him into the shower, reason him off to bed. Daily. I cojole him to get dressed for school in the morning. I coax him out of bed. Its exhausting.
I am tired of going it alone, and its starting to show. I am tired of putting on a happy face all the time, and pretending that all is well in the world, because its not. The reality is, while I do feel in my heart, my kid is capable of anything he sets his mind to, he is limited by his autism. Kids are starting to notice that he is different, and its starting to show up on the playground. he says he doesn't like school because he is getting picked on. Its just going to get worse as he gets older. I am already starting to see him to be desperate to be liked, which inevitably will result in him doing stupid things to fit in.

I see the handwriting on the wall.
And I am tired of pretending that all is ok. Its not. My kid will never be like your kid, and somedays frankly, that sucks. You can not give me parenting advice because you don't know what my life is truly like. That, despite my best efforts to do yoga and drink my sleepytime tea and practice aromatherapy massage and pray and meditate before bed, I actually just collapse into it.

For real.
I plan out my life to the most minute detail, because it gives me a sense of control while its all spiraling downward. So, if something deviates from my plan, it does set me off. Menu planning is my big thing...if I can get everyone to eat, I can pretend all is normal.
But what's not normal is the fact that my 8 year old can't tie his shoes, and buttoning a shirt is a challenge for him. He sees the world very differently and doesn't understand why everybody else isn't in love with hot wheels and angry birds as he is. He doesn't get that there are other rules for things, other than his and why does he have to conform to them?
Don't get me wrong. I deliberately chose this life and this child. I would give everything up for him and lay down my life for him. To me, there is no difference from the fact that I adopted him rather than giving birth to him. A mother's love is the same.

However, there is a layer of frustration and anger that winds its way through my life. I admit, that there is a lot of why God going on in my soul. God, why did you give my son this disorder? God, why isnt there more being done for autism? God, why was infertile (and believe me, there is a lot to that still) and couldn't I have a child of my own? God, why do I constantly feel that I am not good enough to be doing it all?
My prayer life has virtually disappeared over the years. Part of it has to do with the fact that the big man & I share different religious beliefs and actually belong to different churches. In my mind, its a little tiny cut every week when we don't go to church together as a family. I've gotten used to it over the years, but it still hurts. Just because you've accepted something doesn't mean that it isn't painful.

Prayer was the one thing that got me through some of the darkest chapters of my life. I know that during those moments in the valley of shadows, G-d was with me. But I feel that He is so far away right now and that I am going through this all alone. I feel abandoned on a lot of levels.
And talking with other spectrum mommies, this is all too common.