Anyone who has followed my story on Facebook for any length of time knows the ugly details of the demise of my marriage. The marriage wasn't always pretty, and it certainly wasn't perfect. I had plenty of faults, and I wasn't even close to being the perfect wife, (whatever THAT is...). But I said forever, and I would've kept my word. He had other plans.
I have lots of reasons to hate my ex. The list of awful things he has said to me, and about me, is a long one. He betrayed my trust, and hurt me in a way I would never have believed he could. Because of what he did to me, my extended family is somewhat torn apart, and I have been separated from HIS family, which is somewhat devastating because of the incredibly close bond I have had with his sister's children all their lives. Friends have been forced to take sides, and some have been lost. I've had to deal with a lot of pain. But as we wrap up the details of the divorce, I find myself rather surprised by what I feel.
I don't hate him.
I'm not even angry.
Don't get me wrong...I have had my moments. I'm certainly not sitting back and wishing him well. What kind of ass backwards jackass would I be if I was hoping for the universe to reward him for hurting me and breaking up our family? But I'm not wishing him horror and misfortune, either. Truthfully, it's possible that I have been wrong about everything. Maybe I have misread everything I believe to be true, and he isn't as guilty as I believe him to be. Maybe I'm the one who has gotten it wrong. I don't think so, but it's possible. And I believe wholeheartedly in Karma. So I wish him...Karma.
Now, my daughter...she's a tougher nut to crack.
She's angry.
She's hurt, and she's majorly pissed off about it.
It doesn't matter how many times I tell her I'm not mad at her dad. It doesn't matter if I tell her it doesn't even bother me if his new girlfriend is her "Godmother". She doesn't care that I am completely over it. She is not.
I tell her I forgive them. I tell her we are all better off NOT living in the toxic environment of anger and hatred we were drowning in when he was here. I tell her how much her dad loves her. But from her point of view, all she knows is, whatever her dad's issues may have been with ME, SHE was not important enough for him to find a way to fix it. Her dad, who could fix ANYTHING, didn't think she was important enough to fix our family. No matter what I tell her, this is what she feels in her broken heart, and she's so angry at him.
She doesn't want to talk about it. She won't go see a counsellor. She won't discuss her feelings with her dad. She's just mad at him, to the point where she's being disrespectful to him, and I find myself having to threaten her with punishment, and taking her phone away, just to get her to return his phone calls. But she isn't crying about it. Besides being a little rebellious and slacking on her schoolwork, she's not being self destructive. And she's still young enough where I don't have to worry too much about her engaging in dangerous or harmful behavior. I keep a pretty close eye on her, and make sure I make it easiest for her to spend time with friends whose parents share similar values to my own. I encourage her to talk about her feelings, but I don't push her. For now, I'll just give her time and space, and all the support she needs to NOT let her anger consume her.
My ex...he's another story. He's mad. He thinks I'm filling our girl's head with terrible ideas of the awful cretin I must think he is. He's telling people as much. But as the saying goes, "You can't explain yourself to those who have already chosen to misunderstand you". He doesn't believe anything I tell him any more now than he did throughout our marriage. He has it all figured out. But that's on him.
At this point, you may be thinking, "What the fuck does any of this have to do with compassion?" Some, (or at least one, that I can think of), will be thinking, "Oh, God...she's whining about her husband leaving her..." No. Not even a little bit. I don't know if there was ever a woman who has danced as much as I have after her husband walked out. Well...maybe if the woman was being left with a ton of money, she might dance a little more. The point I'm trying to make is, it's easy to have compassion for a homeless mother and her children. It's easy to have compassion for people who are less fortunate than we perceive ourselves to be. But sometimes, it's NOT so easy.
I have a son who happens to be gay. Even though being gay makes him "different" than some folks, I want the world to accept him for who he is. I have a son who has severe autism. He will need care for the rest of his life. I want the world to accept him for who he is. If I hope for this acceptance for my own children, even when it is NOT easy for some people to accept what they don't understand, I only have a right to hope for such acceptance, if I am willing to open my mind and my heart, and extend that very acceptance to others. Even when it's not easy.
Now, I surely don't mean to suggest that we should all embrace EVERYONE. There are some folks who do awful things, and they may only ever receive compassion in the next life. Or maybe not. It sure isn't any of my business to judge what a person does, or doesn't do. But I do have a choice in whether or not I will think outside my own comfort zone, and even when I am hurt, or wronged in some way, allow for the possibility that there may be more to a situation than is visible. If someone in my life, or someone I encounter does something to intentionally hurt me, or ALLOWS something to happen, even though they KNOW it will hurt me, it's NOT easy to consider what has brought that
person to a hurtful circumstance. It's much easier to be angry, and to point fingers. But that won't lead to a resolution, and it won't leave any relationship, even a fleeting one, any happier than it was before. Being angry and pointing fingers only leads to more anger and resentment, and leads the people who are standing by and watching, to MORE anger and resentment. And sometimes, the people standing by and watching are our children.
I believe with every fiber of my being that I have to BE the change I want to see in the world. It's not a cliche. It's a fact. So even though I may call my ex a douche nozzle, and numbnuts, (among many other terms of "endearment"), I don't wish terrible things for him. I don't take any great pleasure in any misfortune that may find him. And I don't hate him. If I saw him on the side of the road with a flat tire in a rainstorm, I would pull over and make sure he called roadside assistance, (or I would do it FOR him, since he never got around to putting the roadside assistance tag on his keyring). I might giggle a little at the sight of him broken down and soaked...give me a break...I'm human. But I would still help him.
I don't mean to pat myself on the back, or suggest that I possess some supernatural ability to forgive. In fact, I have often sent out curses of diarrhea and a wicked jock itch, to folks who have wronged my friends. I'm joking, (no...not really), but I can't say I would be broken up if those folks actually did end up getting a rash and crapping their pants. I AM trying to present a possibility that even in the most difficult of circumstances, compassion is possible. It's difficult to put the needs and feelings of someone who might have hurt us, above our own need to be right, or to seek revenge. But ultimately, offering kindness...compassion...will bring us far greater satisfaction than seeing the suffering of another human being.
I can only hope that by showing compassion to those who have hurt me, I can teach my daughter to let go of the anger that is keeping her from enjoying a decent relationship with her dad. I truly want that for her. Life is hard. And so much of life can be hurtful. We should all take every opportunity to make the most of the loving relationships we are blessed with. Anger, and blame, and revenge will only suck the joy from our lives. You know what brings joy? Showing kindness...compassion. I'm going to seek joy, wherever I can find it, and I'm going to dance. And if someone hurts me, I'll dance around them. And maybe teach them a step or two.
#compassion
Friday, February 20, 2015
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Bunker Punk Tour
What is your most prized possession?
Hmmmm...I don't really value "stuff". I'm really wracking my brain over this one. Nope...what really matters to me are the people. My people. My kids, above all else. My family, of course. My friends. My dog💗. I guess if I absolutely HAVE TO name a possession, it would have to be my home. In spite of the difficult associations that are now attached to it, this house is really HOME for the kids and me. Maybe not for much longer, but it will always hold my heart.
How do you unwind after a long day?
That's really all you need to know.
What is one song that has followed you throughout your whole life?
The Sound of Music is my favorite movie of all time. (I know...pretty nerdy for a badass...) I had the soundtrack album as a child, and probably wore a deep groove into it on my old record player. I knew every word, every note, and every scene that went along with it all. I could even yodel along about a goatherd.
As a teen, when I began to believe that "true love" was the only thing that would ever define me, I often thought of "Something Good"...the love song, sung between Maria and Captain Von Trapp. I always thought that someday, I would find my "Captain"...my reward for doing "something good", in spite of anything I might have done that wasn't so good. I fell in love easily, and every time my mind would bring me back to that hope...that THIS was my reward. This love. Of course, it was all a load of crap. As each heartbreak left me believing less and less in "rewards" and "true love", the song eventually stopped playing in the back of my head. Current circumstances had all but killed any hope I may once have had of finding that reward.
So, recently, when The Sound of Music was aired on television, my mom called to remind me to watch it. It didn't matter that I own the movie...my mom is the "reminder" of all things, so knowing how much I love the movie, she called. I rolled my eyes, thanked her, and 10 minutes later I found
myself tuning in and singing along. (Such a nerd!) And when it came time for that touching scene...the one in the pretty, glass gazebo where they finally connect...I started to sing along. And as I sang, I looked across the room at my daughter and realized, it was never about a man. It's all about my kids. My three reasons for breathing are the only reward I would ever need. And it's a lovely realization to come to..."Somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, I must've done something good."
If you could give one piece of advice to new bloggers in your field, what would it be?
That's an easy one. Write about what makes you feel. Anything. Happy, sad, worried, scared, broken...if you feel it, chances are good that someone else has felt it too. Somewhere in me is a ranting post about the anger I feel every time I put a new tablecloth on the kitchen table, and my little tween treasure manages to destroy it within a day by knocking over a bottle of nail polish. EVERY...DAMNED...TIME!!! May sound ridiculous, but somewhere out there, somebody knows exactly what I'm talking about. And if writing isn't about finding a way to connect over the human condition, (small and insignificant as a thought may seem), then I just don't know why else it could matter.
Now that you're famous, we need a quote from you.
Nobody else is ever responsible for the choices we make. If I screw up, I will own it, make amends, and take responsibility for my words and my actions. I can't hope my kids will grow up to be decent people if I don't set a decent example. ~ Honey Badger
So, recently, when The Sound of Music was aired on television, my mom called to remind me to watch it. It didn't matter that I own the movie...my mom is the "reminder" of all things, so knowing how much I love the movie, she called. I rolled my eyes, thanked her, and 10 minutes later I found
myself tuning in and singing along. (Such a nerd!) And when it came time for that touching scene...the one in the pretty, glass gazebo where they finally connect...I started to sing along. And as I sang, I looked across the room at my daughter and realized, it was never about a man. It's all about my kids. My three reasons for breathing are the only reward I would ever need. And it's a lovely realization to come to..."Somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, I must've done something good."
If you could give one piece of advice to new bloggers in your field, what would it be?
That's an easy one. Write about what makes you feel. Anything. Happy, sad, worried, scared, broken...if you feel it, chances are good that someone else has felt it too. Somewhere in me is a ranting post about the anger I feel every time I put a new tablecloth on the kitchen table, and my little tween treasure manages to destroy it within a day by knocking over a bottle of nail polish. EVERY...DAMNED...TIME!!! May sound ridiculous, but somewhere out there, somebody knows exactly what I'm talking about. And if writing isn't about finding a way to connect over the human condition, (small and insignificant as a thought may seem), then I just don't know why else it could matter.
Now that you're famous, we need a quote from you.
Nobody else is ever responsible for the choices we make. If I screw up, I will own it, make amends, and take responsibility for my words and my actions. I can't hope my kids will grow up to be decent people if I don't set a decent example. ~ Honey Badger
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Inspire Or Go Home!
It seems my dear, new friend at How My Brain Works has nominated me to be honored with The Very Inspiring Blogger Award. It's taken me a few days to respond. A post-holiday bout with illness has knocked me on my ass, and I haven't had much energy for writing...or thinking. But now that I've had some time to process the occasion, I have some very clear thoughts on how I feel about being called "inspirational".
To be acknowledged by a peer, in general, is a great honor. To be acknowledged as inspirational, it's extremely validating. To be honest, I'm so surprised by her nomination because it's a "blogger" award. Truthfully, I only have 3 legitimate "blog" posts to speak of. My usual blogging takes place on my Facebook page, and there are lots of writers and bloggers who don't even consider a Facebook page to be worthy of consideration. I have argued in the past that the media I use to tell my story is irrelevant if the one person who needs to hear the story the most, comes across it and finds hope in it, or somehow feels less alone. I'm an older mom. I'm technologically challenged, and working out all the bells and whistles of the blogging world can be intimidating. I have avoided tackling a "regular" blog because there are links and features I'm just not familiar with, and Facebook has just been an easier route. So, the fact that The Brain has respectfully recognized the story I tell as a "blog"...that alone is a great honor. So to my friend, I say, thank you:)
I understand the formalities of accepting this honor have changed as it's been passed along, and being a rebel like my friend, I'm going to take the liberty of listing a few things about myself, so that you can decide for yourself if I have what it takes to inspire.
1) My kids are what matters most to me on this planet. My family too. But my children are my reason for breathing. There is NOTHING in this world I would not do for my kids. Nothing.
2) I started this blog a long time ago, and abandoned it when I saw too much of my personal information attached to it. I have since figured out how to change some of the settings, and if my privacy can be maintained, I will likely spend more time offering my (sometimes irrational) thoughts to a broader community than only Facebook.
3) I avoided all social media for a really long time. I had convinced myself that if I wasn't already communicating with you, I didn't need you in my life. I was madly in love with my husband, and I didn't need anyone else. And then we moved to the suburbs. And it was quiet. And bridge tolls and gas prices kept our friends and family from visiting. And we learned how very lonely and isolating life can be when you are living with autism. And the commute was exhausting for him, and if he wasn't working, he was sleeping. Unless my cousin was in our house. And when I realized he had begun to prefer HER company to mine, (a story for another day), it was really the end of my relationship with both of them. It took over two years for the marriage to end completely, and we're still going through the divorce, but for all intents and purposes, I was completely alone for a long time. So I started a Facebook page, just to feel connected to ANYONE. I am convinced that Facebook saved me from a mental breakdown...from the incredible pain of loneliness.
4) I started my "Just a minutemy cape is in the dryer" Facebook page, (yes...it's spelled that way), anonymously, after getting fed up with judgemental, intrusive "real life" friends and family, and all the nosy comments they were making every time I posted something about my (then) husband, or my kids, or the challenges of autism, or how badly I need a damned glass of wine some days, on my personal page. I had found comfort in some of the public "autism" pages, and "mommy" pages, and "funny" pages...I thought I had a few things to add to those interactive conversations, and threw my hat in the ring. Besides having my children, starting that page was the best thing I have ever done. I have made life changing connections through that page, and made friends I would NEVER have made in any other way. I tell the story of EVERYTHING. Everything I experience. The hardships of a failing marriage, the heartbreak of betrayal, the challenges of autism and OCD, raising a daughter with morals in a world that can sometimes be kind of a cesspool, being the most accepting parent on the planet to my oldest, who happens to be gay...if I live it, I tell it. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent, and the asshole who would surely have to be looking over his shoulder if people knew who he really was:)
5) I truly enjoy drinking a glass or two of wine. Every now and then. And I joke about it on the regular. But I don't drink even a fraction of the alcohol I am joking about. I'm entirely too broke to drink that much. And just to keep my family from staging regular interventions, I post periodic disclaimers, just as a full disclosure of reality. Considering the sleep deprivation I endure (thanks to the erratic sleep patterns <or, lack of patterns>, of my sweet, happy, beautiful, autistic boy), and all the other crap that comes with being a mom, in general, and the aforementioned failed marriage, it's a miracle I am NOT a stone cold alcoholic...but I'm always happy to sip a glass or two, when I can afford it, or when it's a gift. And I am always responsible for my kids, and DO NOT drink and drive.
6) During one of my personal disclaimers, upon mentioning how very much I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT what people have to say, what they think, what opinions they may have formed about me, an old friend mentioned "OMG...you ARE the Honey Badger!" And THAT is where I chose my pen name. It fits. And if you don't like it, I'm pretty sure I don't even have to say it:)
7) From the very first post on my page, and the very first response that included the words, "Me too", I knew I would always keep writing what I feel, because it gave a voice to someone else who may have felt lost and alone. I felt validated in my feelings, and thought if I kept sharing, other folks could feel like they mattered too! Writing, even the simplest of thoughts, gives me a purpose on days when I doubt myself. It doesn't happen often anymore, (especially now that there is no one living here to tell me how worthless I am). But I love knowing that something I may have said, maybe gave somebody the little push of support they needed to feel hopeful on a hard day.
8) I'm from Brooklyn.
9) I swear like a drunken sailor. I've sanitized my potty mouth for purposes of this post. I don't want to put any of the new folks in culture shock. But should you happen upon another post on this page, I make no promises.
10) I am a parent to a gay son, an autistic son, and a feisty daughter, and I'm a soon-to-be ex-wife. I don't tie myself to a specific genre of writing. I tell it all. If I encounter you, and you don't want me to tell the world a story of what a douche you are, don't be a douche.
11) I don't lie. And I don't take kindly to being lied to.
12) The outcome of my day is ultimately in my hands. It's all about choices. Most days, I choose to be happy. In spite of ANYTHING that might be going on around me, I CHOOSE to he happy. And I choose to be kind. And I choose to be helpful. They are simple choices. It is not always simple to make those choices on days I might be struggling, or when I'm dealing with hateful folks. But it's still a choice that I know is an option, and I know the outcome of any scenario will be a more positive one if I stick with those choices. So I try. Really hard. Most days I win. And I forgive myself for the days I don't.
And now that I've given you a little glimpse into who I am, I have the honor of naming other bloggers, who I consider to be inspirational. If you read this before I get some tech support, you won't find links to their blogs. (Those damned bells and whistles...) But search for them. They are worth it.
Autism: Uncensored
Cat on a Trampoline
It's a Mad, Dad World
Monkey Business
And my fifth choice, can only be found on Facebook, but as I've said, the chosen media doesn't change the honest, uplifting, and unifying message, so go look for The Daily Stim on Facebook.
To be acknowledged by a peer, in general, is a great honor. To be acknowledged as inspirational, it's extremely validating. To be honest, I'm so surprised by her nomination because it's a "blogger" award. Truthfully, I only have 3 legitimate "blog" posts to speak of. My usual blogging takes place on my Facebook page, and there are lots of writers and bloggers who don't even consider a Facebook page to be worthy of consideration. I have argued in the past that the media I use to tell my story is irrelevant if the one person who needs to hear the story the most, comes across it and finds hope in it, or somehow feels less alone. I'm an older mom. I'm technologically challenged, and working out all the bells and whistles of the blogging world can be intimidating. I have avoided tackling a "regular" blog because there are links and features I'm just not familiar with, and Facebook has just been an easier route. So, the fact that The Brain has respectfully recognized the story I tell as a "blog"...that alone is a great honor. So to my friend, I say, thank you:)
I understand the formalities of accepting this honor have changed as it's been passed along, and being a rebel like my friend, I'm going to take the liberty of listing a few things about myself, so that you can decide for yourself if I have what it takes to inspire.
1) My kids are what matters most to me on this planet. My family too. But my children are my reason for breathing. There is NOTHING in this world I would not do for my kids. Nothing.
2) I started this blog a long time ago, and abandoned it when I saw too much of my personal information attached to it. I have since figured out how to change some of the settings, and if my privacy can be maintained, I will likely spend more time offering my (sometimes irrational) thoughts to a broader community than only Facebook.
3) I avoided all social media for a really long time. I had convinced myself that if I wasn't already communicating with you, I didn't need you in my life. I was madly in love with my husband, and I didn't need anyone else. And then we moved to the suburbs. And it was quiet. And bridge tolls and gas prices kept our friends and family from visiting. And we learned how very lonely and isolating life can be when you are living with autism. And the commute was exhausting for him, and if he wasn't working, he was sleeping. Unless my cousin was in our house. And when I realized he had begun to prefer HER company to mine, (a story for another day), it was really the end of my relationship with both of them. It took over two years for the marriage to end completely, and we're still going through the divorce, but for all intents and purposes, I was completely alone for a long time. So I started a Facebook page, just to feel connected to ANYONE. I am convinced that Facebook saved me from a mental breakdown...from the incredible pain of loneliness.
4) I started my "Just a minutemy cape is in the dryer" Facebook page, (yes...it's spelled that way), anonymously, after getting fed up with judgemental, intrusive "real life" friends and family, and all the nosy comments they were making every time I posted something about my (then) husband, or my kids, or the challenges of autism, or how badly I need a damned glass of wine some days, on my personal page. I had found comfort in some of the public "autism" pages, and "mommy" pages, and "funny" pages...I thought I had a few things to add to those interactive conversations, and threw my hat in the ring. Besides having my children, starting that page was the best thing I have ever done. I have made life changing connections through that page, and made friends I would NEVER have made in any other way. I tell the story of EVERYTHING. Everything I experience. The hardships of a failing marriage, the heartbreak of betrayal, the challenges of autism and OCD, raising a daughter with morals in a world that can sometimes be kind of a cesspool, being the most accepting parent on the planet to my oldest, who happens to be gay...if I live it, I tell it. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent, and the asshole who would surely have to be looking over his shoulder if people knew who he really was:)
5) I truly enjoy drinking a glass or two of wine. Every now and then. And I joke about it on the regular. But I don't drink even a fraction of the alcohol I am joking about. I'm entirely too broke to drink that much. And just to keep my family from staging regular interventions, I post periodic disclaimers, just as a full disclosure of reality. Considering the sleep deprivation I endure (thanks to the erratic sleep patterns <or, lack of patterns>, of my sweet, happy, beautiful, autistic boy), and all the other crap that comes with being a mom, in general, and the aforementioned failed marriage, it's a miracle I am NOT a stone cold alcoholic...but I'm always happy to sip a glass or two, when I can afford it, or when it's a gift. And I am always responsible for my kids, and DO NOT drink and drive.
6) During one of my personal disclaimers, upon mentioning how very much I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT what people have to say, what they think, what opinions they may have formed about me, an old friend mentioned "OMG...you ARE the Honey Badger!" And THAT is where I chose my pen name. It fits. And if you don't like it, I'm pretty sure I don't even have to say it:)
7) From the very first post on my page, and the very first response that included the words, "Me too", I knew I would always keep writing what I feel, because it gave a voice to someone else who may have felt lost and alone. I felt validated in my feelings, and thought if I kept sharing, other folks could feel like they mattered too! Writing, even the simplest of thoughts, gives me a purpose on days when I doubt myself. It doesn't happen often anymore, (especially now that there is no one living here to tell me how worthless I am). But I love knowing that something I may have said, maybe gave somebody the little push of support they needed to feel hopeful on a hard day.
8) I'm from Brooklyn.
9) I swear like a drunken sailor. I've sanitized my potty mouth for purposes of this post. I don't want to put any of the new folks in culture shock. But should you happen upon another post on this page, I make no promises.
10) I am a parent to a gay son, an autistic son, and a feisty daughter, and I'm a soon-to-be ex-wife. I don't tie myself to a specific genre of writing. I tell it all. If I encounter you, and you don't want me to tell the world a story of what a douche you are, don't be a douche.
11) I don't lie. And I don't take kindly to being lied to.
12) The outcome of my day is ultimately in my hands. It's all about choices. Most days, I choose to be happy. In spite of ANYTHING that might be going on around me, I CHOOSE to he happy. And I choose to be kind. And I choose to be helpful. They are simple choices. It is not always simple to make those choices on days I might be struggling, or when I'm dealing with hateful folks. But it's still a choice that I know is an option, and I know the outcome of any scenario will be a more positive one if I stick with those choices. So I try. Really hard. Most days I win. And I forgive myself for the days I don't.
And now that I've given you a little glimpse into who I am, I have the honor of naming other bloggers, who I consider to be inspirational. If you read this before I get some tech support, you won't find links to their blogs. (Those damned bells and whistles...) But search for them. They are worth it.
Autism: Uncensored
Cat on a Trampoline
It's a Mad, Dad World
Monkey Business
And my fifth choice, can only be found on Facebook, but as I've said, the chosen media doesn't change the honest, uplifting, and unifying message, so go look for The Daily Stim on Facebook.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Everyday Resolutions
2014 has been an eye opening, life altering year for me. Depending on your perspective, the events that have occurred could be seen as a devastating loss or a long overdue liberation. Marriage, in the best of circumstances, is a challenge. There is a daily responsibility to find a way to honor your partner while remaining true to yourself. When there is real love, we can find a way to overcome the greatest of obstacles. When one partner gives up, all the love in the universe won't save you. I had a partner who gave up. Whatever his reasons, there was no convincing him that he could possibly be wrong. And frankly, it had become too exhausting to keep trying to convince him. But this whole experience has taught me that if you have to work THAT hard, at convincing the person who has promised to love you forever, that you are worthy of love, he has already CHOSEN to believe otherwise...for whatever reason...or WHOMEVER.
I have no intention of using this space to whine about all the things I have lost, or how I have been hurt and betrayed. Instead, I plan to share with you all, the many amazing truths I have discovered in the midst of pain, anger and uncertainty. I have been truly blessed with a (mostly) supportive family, a few real life friends, and an amazing circle of "Facebook Friends", (with whom I am emotionally closer, and who understand and accept me better than anyone I have ever known), and on the days I struggle to hold it together, there is always someone to remind me of my true value. Their support has held me up in the moments when my own strength starts to fail me. But those moments of weakness have become few and far between. The older I get, the more at peace I feel with the person I have become. Every hardship, every failure, every betrayal, every pain...they have all led me to the person I have become...this survivor.
I have no intention of using this space to whine about all the things I have lost, or how I have been hurt and betrayed. Instead, I plan to share with you all, the many amazing truths I have discovered in the midst of pain, anger and uncertainty. I have been truly blessed with a (mostly) supportive family, a few real life friends, and an amazing circle of "Facebook Friends", (with whom I am emotionally closer, and who understand and accept me better than anyone I have ever known), and on the days I struggle to hold it together, there is always someone to remind me of my true value. Their support has held me up in the moments when my own strength starts to fail me. But those moments of weakness have become few and far between. The older I get, the more at peace I feel with the person I have become. Every hardship, every failure, every betrayal, every pain...they have all led me to the person I have become...this survivor.
A long time ago, I gave up on New Year's Resolutions. Not only are they usually unrealistic, but they tend to lead us to believe that if we fail, we have to wait until the next time the ball drops to make changes and improvements to our lives. I prefer to believe that we can make changes every minute, of every day. But I can't help but feel reflective as we wrap up another year...especially a year that has brought such monumental changes to my life. So here are some of the most valuable lessons I will take forward, into a brand new life, all of my own choosing:
1) If someone has said or done something to hurt me, it is my responsibility to let them know. It is my responsibility TO MYSELF, to stand up and say, "It's not OK to make me feel bad". I can't expect anyone to read my mind, any more than I can read theirs. (Even if I'm really good at it.)
2) I have the power to choose who is worthy of my time. As a mom, my kids are my top priority. They are my reason for breathing. They are the focus of most of my actions during the course of a day. I don't have the luxury of lots of free time, so if I have managed to devote any amount of time to someone who does not appreciate it, or who takes me for granted, I have the power to choose to NOT waste my time. It's just too precious.
3) I DO NOT have the right to expect others to behave the way that I would. However "right" I may think I am, my "right" may not be EVERYONE'S "right". If I want people to respect my choices, I have to first respect theirs.
4) I will be accountable for my own actions. I will not offer half-hearted apologies that start out "I'm sorry I hurt you, BUT..." There is no BUT. No matter what you have ever done to offend me, I can always choose to stand up for myself, and NOT behave in a way that is spiteful or vengeful. If I expect to raise responsible, courteous and kind children, I have to be the example. No excuses.
5) I will NOT make excuses for my kids. I will help them to understand their own responsibility to, and consequences for their actions. Making excuses, ("Oh, he's just being nasty because he's tired and cranky..."), leads them to believe they can do whatever they want, or hurt whomever they want, as long as they have a good enough excuse. Whatever has happened to them, whatever has been said to them, I will make sure my kids know it is OK to stand up for themselves, but IT IS NEVER OK to treat people badly. NEVER.
6) When I wake up in the morning, (after usually having very little sleep), and I feel the sadness of loss and failure creeping up my throat, I have the power to CHOOSE to feel happy. It's really that simple. It may not always FEEL that simple, but it is. I can sit and cry over whatever has NOT worked out the way I had hoped, or I can force a smile, (which has scientifically been proven to fool the brain into believing we are happy...), and steer the course of my day in the direction that keeps me feeling happy. My choice.
7) I will give careful thought to my words and my actions, and I will be confident in being myself. I WILL NOT change who I am, or "curb my enthusiasm" to comply with another person's expectations.
8) I will NOT have unrealistic expectations. Expectations, in general, are the greatest killer of relationships. All relationships. Friends, siblings, romantic...they can all be derailed by expecting others to behave in a way that does not naturally occur to them. I will also NOT comply with the unrealistic expectations of others. I can be thoughtful, and kind, and make some compromises, but I WILL NOT be less than who I am to please others, any more than I expect others to be less than themselves.
9) I will remember to say please and thank you. Especially when speaking to my kids. Telling my kids to use good manners is NOT as effective as SHOWING them the use of good manners.
10) I will offer compliments to random strangers. I always felt it was thoughtful to tell people they do a good job when they do, and we all know how good it can make someone feel when we tell them they look nice, or we appreciate their choice in fashion. But until I began to compliment folks on a regular basis, I never realized how good it would make ME feel!!! So yes...for totally selfish reasons, I will compliment the people I encounter during the course of my day.
11) I will not allow the pain of past failures to drown out my hope for what the future may hold. There is always hope. Always.
12) When all else fails, and the day seems to be lost, I will dance. I'm just going to dance my way through it all. Crappy events and crappy people will not suck the music out of my soul...if I let them. Dancing always reminds me that even in the hardest times, we can always do SOMETHING to change how we feel in a given moment. I'm going to choose to dance.
There are lots of reasons I should feel sad. There are lots of reasons I should feel angry. But those are NOT my only choices. Happy and dancing. That's how I will spend the rest of my life. Because I get to choose.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
And the acronym of the day is...
Being the mom of a severely autistic teenager, I have encountered lots of acronyms. ASD, OCD, ADHD...there seems to be an abbreviated sequence of initials for every type of "disorder" on the planet. The "need for speed" texting etiquette also calls for universally accepted abbreviations...OMG, LOL, ROTFL, IDK, YOLO...it seems everywhere I look, there is some kind of shortened, commonly understood catch phrase. So, when I volunteered to help edit my nephew's English report, I was intrigued enough to do a little research on the subject matter he chose: The Impact of Social Media on Society. My nephew, (and most awesome Godchild on the planet), wrote about a new psychological phenomenon which is quickly becoming a contributing factor in many cases of depression, especially among teens and those in their early twenties. This new disorder is known as FOMO. Fear Of Missing Out.
Most of us are rapidly becoming those "always have your phone in your hand" kinds of people. It starts as a means to keep us entertained, and quickly but very naturally, becomes an extension of who we are. I was a late Facebook participant. I swore, if I hadn't kept in touch with you over the last 25 years, I had no need to be in touch now. (I was more wrong than I could have imagined, but that is a post for another day.) Having rectified that situation and having modified my thinking on the matter DRASTICALLY, I realize just how important these social connections have become. I started out connecting with people I already knew. I added friends I had lost track of, and some who were actively searching for me. I then started following some pages related to autism, because as any autism momma will tell you, no matter how much time you spend being with or talking to folks outside the "autism circle", NOBODY ELSE "GETS IT" quite like another autism momma. I then started to follow some "mommy" pages, and added some pages that I followed just for laughs, (because GOD KNOWS we all need a few laughs!!). I found myself checking my newsfeed more and more, because I enjoyed connecting with the "outside world", and I didn't want to miss anything. FOMO. It wasn't a debilitating need. I could spend the day cleaning, running errands, carting my kids to wherever they had to be. I have not had a need for medication to control my need to keep up with every post in my universe. Yet. But my FOMO disorder has led me to another acronym, that I hope will spread from here, and maybe bring a little comfort to others, who, like myself, are finding the majority of their social interaction taking place on a screen: JOFA...the Joy Of Feeling Accepted.
Through some of the pages I follow, I have become friends with a select few women with whom I have simply clicked. You know, the kind of bond that is unmistakeable and so completely natural, you wonder how it is possible you ever survived without this connection before. There are quite a few of these new (and in my heart, always will be) friends. They are from drastically different corners of the universe, live different lives, have such amazingly different stories, but the bond we all seem to share is the need to accept and support each other. There is no judgement. There is no ego. There is nothing fake. There are pure hearts, full of open acceptance of all the successes, the failures, the flaws, and everything in between. We have never met, and maybe we never will, (although, when I win lotto, the private jet will pick them all up for the commune type vacation, complete with special needs nannies, we all so richly deserve), but they are my friends as deeply as if we had grown up together since preschool. They have taken away my FOMO, and replaced it with my JOFA.
Let's face it...we all need to feel validated. We all want to know that somewhere, someone agrees with our thinking, approves of our choices, and can somehow relate to whatever it is we may be experiencing at a given time. We all need to know that we are not alone. We all need to know that, no matter how many hateful cretins we may have to encounter, (or be married to), SOMEBODY thinks whatever we did, or thought or felt...it was okay, and maybe they even did or thought or felt it, too. When I am sad, I need to know it was okay to feel sad, and someone will be there to watch Steel Magnolias with me and eat ice cream...even if only in cyberspace. I need to know, when my son does something monumental, like finally asking for a tissue instead of wiping his nose on his pillow, I have my PEEPS to shake some pom poms with me. So while social media may be keeping me from cleaning out the office, (AKA, "that room where we throw everything when people are coming over"), my cyberfriends are providing me with something that is so much more mentally and emotionally valuable than a perfectly organized extra room...they give me acceptance...a feeling of belonging that empowers me in a way I never imagined possible.
So, while the Facebook "powers that be", in their esteemed wisdom, (or lack thereof), are purposefully, (with the greedy intention of extorting money from us), blocking some of us from reaching each other, there are simply some connections that are meant to be, and will transcend time, distance and Facebook blocking. I imagine a "thank you, Facebook" is in order for initially providing the media. And a deep and heartfelt "thank you", to my homies...my peeps...my friends...who validate me every day, and remind me on the few occasions that I forget how valuable I truly am, that they will always have my back, and that every day, they will bring me my JOFA, and I can enjoy it with my java:)
Most of us are rapidly becoming those "always have your phone in your hand" kinds of people. It starts as a means to keep us entertained, and quickly but very naturally, becomes an extension of who we are. I was a late Facebook participant. I swore, if I hadn't kept in touch with you over the last 25 years, I had no need to be in touch now. (I was more wrong than I could have imagined, but that is a post for another day.) Having rectified that situation and having modified my thinking on the matter DRASTICALLY, I realize just how important these social connections have become. I started out connecting with people I already knew. I added friends I had lost track of, and some who were actively searching for me. I then started following some pages related to autism, because as any autism momma will tell you, no matter how much time you spend being with or talking to folks outside the "autism circle", NOBODY ELSE "GETS IT" quite like another autism momma. I then started to follow some "mommy" pages, and added some pages that I followed just for laughs, (because GOD KNOWS we all need a few laughs!!). I found myself checking my newsfeed more and more, because I enjoyed connecting with the "outside world", and I didn't want to miss anything. FOMO. It wasn't a debilitating need. I could spend the day cleaning, running errands, carting my kids to wherever they had to be. I have not had a need for medication to control my need to keep up with every post in my universe. Yet. But my FOMO disorder has led me to another acronym, that I hope will spread from here, and maybe bring a little comfort to others, who, like myself, are finding the majority of their social interaction taking place on a screen: JOFA...the Joy Of Feeling Accepted.
Through some of the pages I follow, I have become friends with a select few women with whom I have simply clicked. You know, the kind of bond that is unmistakeable and so completely natural, you wonder how it is possible you ever survived without this connection before. There are quite a few of these new (and in my heart, always will be) friends. They are from drastically different corners of the universe, live different lives, have such amazingly different stories, but the bond we all seem to share is the need to accept and support each other. There is no judgement. There is no ego. There is nothing fake. There are pure hearts, full of open acceptance of all the successes, the failures, the flaws, and everything in between. We have never met, and maybe we never will, (although, when I win lotto, the private jet will pick them all up for the commune type vacation, complete with special needs nannies, we all so richly deserve), but they are my friends as deeply as if we had grown up together since preschool. They have taken away my FOMO, and replaced it with my JOFA.
Let's face it...we all need to feel validated. We all want to know that somewhere, someone agrees with our thinking, approves of our choices, and can somehow relate to whatever it is we may be experiencing at a given time. We all need to know that we are not alone. We all need to know that, no matter how many hateful cretins we may have to encounter, (or be married to), SOMEBODY thinks whatever we did, or thought or felt...it was okay, and maybe they even did or thought or felt it, too. When I am sad, I need to know it was okay to feel sad, and someone will be there to watch Steel Magnolias with me and eat ice cream...even if only in cyberspace. I need to know, when my son does something monumental, like finally asking for a tissue instead of wiping his nose on his pillow, I have my PEEPS to shake some pom poms with me. So while social media may be keeping me from cleaning out the office, (AKA, "that room where we throw everything when people are coming over"), my cyberfriends are providing me with something that is so much more mentally and emotionally valuable than a perfectly organized extra room...they give me acceptance...a feeling of belonging that empowers me in a way I never imagined possible.
So, while the Facebook "powers that be", in their esteemed wisdom, (or lack thereof), are purposefully, (with the greedy intention of extorting money from us), blocking some of us from reaching each other, there are simply some connections that are meant to be, and will transcend time, distance and Facebook blocking. I imagine a "thank you, Facebook" is in order for initially providing the media. And a deep and heartfelt "thank you", to my homies...my peeps...my friends...who validate me every day, and remind me on the few occasions that I forget how valuable I truly am, that they will always have my back, and that every day, they will bring me my JOFA, and I can enjoy it with my java:)
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Hello, Friend...Friend?...Friend?...Beuller?
I recently read that families with children with autism have a hard time maintaining friendships. It is so painfully true, but I didn't completely realize it until I read that.
I'm pretty sure my marriage has come to an end, but neither of us wants to say, "Okay, let's sell the house and both walk away with nothing". It isn't for lack of love, (on my part anyway), but I'm pretty sure it is in great part, for lack of friends. When the only real social connection you have is your spouse, there is an awful lot of pressure on each party to hold up the other.
We do have people in our lives who are our "friends", and we both have family, but when your child has autism, you find yourself in a constant mental battle when faced with "visiting" possibilities. So many family members say, "Don't worry about the stuff he breaks. It's only stuff." But what they don't seem to realize is, from my perspective, it is THEIR stuff! I don't want to come to your house and worry that my child is going to break your expensive china, or the collectibles you accumulated over the years. I will never forget the Christmas Eve I spent at my sister-in-law's, when we walked in the front door, and my son walked right over to her Lenox nativity set, and picked up the cow that was laying in the manger. He picked it up quickly, knocking its head into the top of the stable. No more head. We weren't in the house for 30 seconds! She was very cool about it, but I was not. I felt awful! It's just a thing, I know. But not MY thing. First I was angry, because how could his Godmother not know that her autistic nephew, who LOVES animals, would be interested in her expensive china BARN FULL OF ANIMALS! Then, I just wanted to go home, because my in-laws are a very "thing"oriented group. God only knows what else he would need to touch. Then I realized it was Christmas, and my daughter, who is NOT autistic, was enjoying her cousins, so what could I do? I stayed, and followed him from room to room, making sure he touched nothing. He cried when we took away the Lenox "farm", and every time I steered him away from the white satin sofa, and the crystal ornaments on the tree...needless to say, going home was the best part of Christmas for me that year. But that was just a rude awakening for me.
There have been so many other occasions when we had to completely disrupt the lives of our friends because our son is severely autistic, and there is just no way to explain to him that some "animals" are made of thousand dollar crystal and he shouldn't drop it. On our way home from Florida one year, we stopped in to visit my husband's great uncle. Our son had fallen asleep in the car on the way, and as we walked into the house, we realized there were curios filled with porcelain animal figurines ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE. I literally stopped breathing. I told our uncle that there was no way I could guarantee the safety of his collection. My boy just doesn't understand what "expensive" means. He just sees the sheep and the chicken. So even though he assured me I shouldn't worry, he saw the anxiety in my face, and here went this seventy something, wonderful man, covering all the curios with bedsheets so I would feel more at ease. While visiting another close couple, the boy noticed a violin refrigerator magnet. It played music if you pushed a button. He was completely enthralled with it, so we let him hold it. As we were getting ready to leave, we realized we couldn't find the tiny violin. Well, it's just a fridge magnet, so no big deal, right? Except that it was the last little Christmas "chachka" my friend's recently deceased mother had bought her. Searched for a half hour, but no luck. Don't ask me how he smuggled it out, but I found it on the floor in my car the next day. (Thankfully, I returned it to her, and she now takes it out for my boy whenever we see her.) Another occasion, at my brother's house, I spent the first hour of our visit watching my boy jump off the side of the staircase that has no railing, and the rest of the visit redirecting my boy away from my brother's collection of porcelain Clydesdale horses. (What is it about my poor son's Godparents, that they feel the need to taunt him with expensive, very breakable figures of his beloved animals?)
So many other visiting experiences have ended with my sweet boy dumping every box of tiny Legos, taking a stuffed animal off my sister-in-law's bed, (one she had from her own childhood), and going into my aunt's china cabinet and taking out her very expensive Christmas horse and buggy figurines. With all of these examples, you can summize that we are not quitters. My boy is 12, and we have made many attempts at comfortably visiting with friends and family, but over the last few years, we've run out of steam. It's just so much easier to stay home. Whenever we have a holiday at our house, my dad wants to cater the event because he thinks all the cooking is too much work for me. But I would rather ALWAYS host a gathering. I'd rather do all the cleaning before, the shopping, prepping, cooking and cleaning after, just so my boy can be in the comfort of his own house. I don't like catered or take out food. I would rather cook for EVERY holiday, than to make my boy live through the anxiety of having to wear real pants and have to "not touch anything"! It doesn't matter how many times you tell me not to worry. I'm going to worry. So we just don't leave the house. And there is where the pressure becomes a problem.
I am a stay at home mom, so even though there are other stay at home moms in my area, I don't see them often, because getting together usually involves spending money. Since I don't bring any in, I try to limit what I spend. I didn't always worry, but way back when, my husband's construction business was booming. The economy crashed, and I learned to stay home. So now, I don't see my sister when we get our nails done, I don't go out for breakfast with the other moms from the boy's OT center, I don't plan vacations. I stay home. Except for my dog, I am home alone all day. My boy comes home first, but he's not much of a talker. Then my girl comes home and starts begging for play dates. She will soon be 10, and she is finished hanging with her fossil mom. So I wait for my husband. On the nights he gets home early, he is either helping the girl with her homework, or running her to taekwondo while I get dinner ready. After dinner, he goes to bed. When he gets home late, he just goes to bed. To be fair, he gets up at 4:30 AM, so, I get it...he's tired. But everyone we know is busy with their own life. We moved about an hour away from family and some friends, but we didn't see them any more when we were around the corner. People just get busy. But they don't realize how hard it is to come out and get connected when autism is an issue. No amount of explaining can make someone understand if they don't live it. I'm not blaming my son for my lack of friends, but frankly, autism has disrupted every other plan we had for our life, and our social life is no different. I don't invite the parents of my daughter's friends because I'm afraid of the awkward moment when my son comes down the stairs in his boxers. We don't go out unless we have to because getting a babysitter is usually a hassle. My mom is a half hour away, but my dad is a creature of habit, and asking him to get off his recliner is usually a project. So, we don't go anywhere, and we stay home alone. And I am just always alone.
So, now that I have whined about the misery of my marriage and the evil, friend sucking autism, my whole point in telling this drawn out tale: COME OVER! COME BABYSIT! If you know someone whose child is autistic, or disabled in some way, go visit them. Autism isn't contagious, and you can't catch it! If you are family or very close friends, offer to babysit. If there is an occasion when you have cause to give a gift to a parent of an autistic child, let it be a restaurant gift card with a "free babysitting" coupon attached. If you haven't heard from them in a while, call and check in. We are so consumed by how different our kids can be, we often don't pick up the phone to call, because we are certain any call we make will be interrupted by some autistic tragedy. We are engaged in a daily battle to get the world to accept our kids, and we all too often forget to just be people. That can really take a toll on a person, and on a marriage. I am pretty sure I have lost that battle, but if you know someone you can help, just do it. It has been scientifically proven that being social can boost your immunity and help prevent some diseases. So, just be a friend...you may save a life, (or a marriage).
I'm pretty sure my marriage has come to an end, but neither of us wants to say, "Okay, let's sell the house and both walk away with nothing". It isn't for lack of love, (on my part anyway), but I'm pretty sure it is in great part, for lack of friends. When the only real social connection you have is your spouse, there is an awful lot of pressure on each party to hold up the other.
We do have people in our lives who are our "friends", and we both have family, but when your child has autism, you find yourself in a constant mental battle when faced with "visiting" possibilities. So many family members say, "Don't worry about the stuff he breaks. It's only stuff." But what they don't seem to realize is, from my perspective, it is THEIR stuff! I don't want to come to your house and worry that my child is going to break your expensive china, or the collectibles you accumulated over the years. I will never forget the Christmas Eve I spent at my sister-in-law's, when we walked in the front door, and my son walked right over to her Lenox nativity set, and picked up the cow that was laying in the manger. He picked it up quickly, knocking its head into the top of the stable. No more head. We weren't in the house for 30 seconds! She was very cool about it, but I was not. I felt awful! It's just a thing, I know. But not MY thing. First I was angry, because how could his Godmother not know that her autistic nephew, who LOVES animals, would be interested in her expensive china BARN FULL OF ANIMALS! Then, I just wanted to go home, because my in-laws are a very "thing"oriented group. God only knows what else he would need to touch. Then I realized it was Christmas, and my daughter, who is NOT autistic, was enjoying her cousins, so what could I do? I stayed, and followed him from room to room, making sure he touched nothing. He cried when we took away the Lenox "farm", and every time I steered him away from the white satin sofa, and the crystal ornaments on the tree...needless to say, going home was the best part of Christmas for me that year. But that was just a rude awakening for me.
There have been so many other occasions when we had to completely disrupt the lives of our friends because our son is severely autistic, and there is just no way to explain to him that some "animals" are made of thousand dollar crystal and he shouldn't drop it. On our way home from Florida one year, we stopped in to visit my husband's great uncle. Our son had fallen asleep in the car on the way, and as we walked into the house, we realized there were curios filled with porcelain animal figurines ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE. I literally stopped breathing. I told our uncle that there was no way I could guarantee the safety of his collection. My boy just doesn't understand what "expensive" means. He just sees the sheep and the chicken. So even though he assured me I shouldn't worry, he saw the anxiety in my face, and here went this seventy something, wonderful man, covering all the curios with bedsheets so I would feel more at ease. While visiting another close couple, the boy noticed a violin refrigerator magnet. It played music if you pushed a button. He was completely enthralled with it, so we let him hold it. As we were getting ready to leave, we realized we couldn't find the tiny violin. Well, it's just a fridge magnet, so no big deal, right? Except that it was the last little Christmas "chachka" my friend's recently deceased mother had bought her. Searched for a half hour, but no luck. Don't ask me how he smuggled it out, but I found it on the floor in my car the next day. (Thankfully, I returned it to her, and she now takes it out for my boy whenever we see her.) Another occasion, at my brother's house, I spent the first hour of our visit watching my boy jump off the side of the staircase that has no railing, and the rest of the visit redirecting my boy away from my brother's collection of porcelain Clydesdale horses. (What is it about my poor son's Godparents, that they feel the need to taunt him with expensive, very breakable figures of his beloved animals?)
So many other visiting experiences have ended with my sweet boy dumping every box of tiny Legos, taking a stuffed animal off my sister-in-law's bed, (one she had from her own childhood), and going into my aunt's china cabinet and taking out her very expensive Christmas horse and buggy figurines. With all of these examples, you can summize that we are not quitters. My boy is 12, and we have made many attempts at comfortably visiting with friends and family, but over the last few years, we've run out of steam. It's just so much easier to stay home. Whenever we have a holiday at our house, my dad wants to cater the event because he thinks all the cooking is too much work for me. But I would rather ALWAYS host a gathering. I'd rather do all the cleaning before, the shopping, prepping, cooking and cleaning after, just so my boy can be in the comfort of his own house. I don't like catered or take out food. I would rather cook for EVERY holiday, than to make my boy live through the anxiety of having to wear real pants and have to "not touch anything"! It doesn't matter how many times you tell me not to worry. I'm going to worry. So we just don't leave the house. And there is where the pressure becomes a problem.
I am a stay at home mom, so even though there are other stay at home moms in my area, I don't see them often, because getting together usually involves spending money. Since I don't bring any in, I try to limit what I spend. I didn't always worry, but way back when, my husband's construction business was booming. The economy crashed, and I learned to stay home. So now, I don't see my sister when we get our nails done, I don't go out for breakfast with the other moms from the boy's OT center, I don't plan vacations. I stay home. Except for my dog, I am home alone all day. My boy comes home first, but he's not much of a talker. Then my girl comes home and starts begging for play dates. She will soon be 10, and she is finished hanging with her fossil mom. So I wait for my husband. On the nights he gets home early, he is either helping the girl with her homework, or running her to taekwondo while I get dinner ready. After dinner, he goes to bed. When he gets home late, he just goes to bed. To be fair, he gets up at 4:30 AM, so, I get it...he's tired. But everyone we know is busy with their own life. We moved about an hour away from family and some friends, but we didn't see them any more when we were around the corner. People just get busy. But they don't realize how hard it is to come out and get connected when autism is an issue. No amount of explaining can make someone understand if they don't live it. I'm not blaming my son for my lack of friends, but frankly, autism has disrupted every other plan we had for our life, and our social life is no different. I don't invite the parents of my daughter's friends because I'm afraid of the awkward moment when my son comes down the stairs in his boxers. We don't go out unless we have to because getting a babysitter is usually a hassle. My mom is a half hour away, but my dad is a creature of habit, and asking him to get off his recliner is usually a project. So, we don't go anywhere, and we stay home alone. And I am just always alone.
So, now that I have whined about the misery of my marriage and the evil, friend sucking autism, my whole point in telling this drawn out tale: COME OVER! COME BABYSIT! If you know someone whose child is autistic, or disabled in some way, go visit them. Autism isn't contagious, and you can't catch it! If you are family or very close friends, offer to babysit. If there is an occasion when you have cause to give a gift to a parent of an autistic child, let it be a restaurant gift card with a "free babysitting" coupon attached. If you haven't heard from them in a while, call and check in. We are so consumed by how different our kids can be, we often don't pick up the phone to call, because we are certain any call we make will be interrupted by some autistic tragedy. We are engaged in a daily battle to get the world to accept our kids, and we all too often forget to just be people. That can really take a toll on a person, and on a marriage. I am pretty sure I have lost that battle, but if you know someone you can help, just do it. It has been scientifically proven that being social can boost your immunity and help prevent some diseases. So, just be a friend...you may save a life, (or a marriage).
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