Love.

Posted in appreciation, Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Wil of God

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today is the day!

Carrie Wilson Link’s long awaited book, Wil of God, is released.

“Wil of God is the story of a tightly wound special needs mother who comes undone, puts herself back together, and falls in love with her imperfect life.”

That’s a blurb from someone in the know.

Good blurb, right?

Oh, okay…it’s my blurb. I admit it.

I met Carrie at a writing workshop years ago. We bonded over our special needs parent status. Our children are very different and require completely different parenting but there was an immediate respect between us about the sacredness of our unexpected vocations.

I’ve had the honor to bear witness to the unfolding of Carrie’s story (at least the last seven years of it), and I’ve read her book in many of its phases. It is delightful. I am so very deeply and profoundly happy for her as Wil of God launches. It is a story that will lift you up, and make you better for having read it.

Carrie is a beautiful writer. A steadfast and devoted mother. A spiritual seeker. A vital thread in her community. She is a teacher to her core.

To paraphrase her son Wil, she is, “the right kind of woman.”

She’s also the right kind of friend.

Congratulations Care!

May your book find it’s way into the hands of all who will appreciate it. May there be many, many, many who open to receive Wil of God.

 

*For more on Carrie and Wil of God, visit her blog, here.

Posted in autism, memoir, special needs, special needs parenting, spirituality, Uncategorized, Wil of God, writing | 6 Comments

Dentists and Autism

Just before leaving to pick up Seth at school yesterday, I got a reminder in the mail from our most recent dentist. It’s time for cleanings. In the car, I found myself getting more and more agitated.

This is the dentist we switched to, after the last dentist. Before we saw this newest dentist for the first time I called ahead to pre-pave. To let them know about Riley’s anxiety. I assured them it would most likely be fine, she’s doing so well, but I felt it would be better for them to at least be aware.

In the car Riley said she was nervous. I assured her it was just a cleaning. I told her she’d had plenty of cleanings by now, and it would be okay. In the waiting room, the assistant came to call her back. I asked, “Riley, do you want me to come with you or stay in the waiting room?” I’d always come with her before, but she’s getting older. She grabbed my hand and said, “I want you to come.”

At this point, the dental assistant attempted very strongly to intercept me, and take Riley back by herself. We went around at least three times with it, and she was quite firm. You could tell she’d been sent out to do the dirty work. Like she was going to be in trouble or something if I waltzed back there with my kid. I told her I wanted to see the dentist and she put me in a little side room, (with Riley), to wait. At this point, not wanting to be the cause of any strife, Riley started ramping up, pleading, “It’s okay Mom. I’ll go by myself. It’s okay.”

I told her, “No it isn’t okay.”

If my child on the autism spectrum has a problem with anxiety, and it will reassure her to have her mother in the room for a cleaning, then what is the big deal? Why do dentists assume that they know better than parents of children with autism? How much training do they actually have with kids on the spectrum? I’m betting none. Why do they assume they know what to do if they run into a problem? Why do they assume we are the problem?

Dental visits are anxiety provoking for many people, and for Riley even more so. You can’t minimize her sensory issues. She is doing so well, and she puts on a brave face, but hold her hand walking down a street and you realize how truly sensitive she still is. She flinches and squeezes your hand at noises that wouldn’t phase most of us. In the car, she screams if I hit the brakes unexpectedly. Her panic response goes from zero to 100 in an instant.

In all likelihood her cleaning would be fine, but there was a chance it wouldn’t be. There was a chance the dentist wouldn’t take her sensory issues into account. And if not, there was a chance he’d be the trigger of a full scale scene. And there is a chance he would then shame her and blame her for her reaction to his own insensitivity. Ask me how I know. This happened with one of the assistants at the orthodontist’s just a few months ago. It’s never ending, the need for advocacy, and until I am clear she can do it on her own, I will be with her, if she wants me to be.

It took years of hard work to get her in the dentist’s chair. I wonder if this dentist realized that? I wonder if he realized how punched-in-the-gut I’ve felt nearly every time I’ve had to deal with a member of his profession?

In the end, the dentist never came into the “intimidation room” to talk with me. We were whisked back. I sat in the corner unobtrusively, while Riley got her teeth cleaned, without incident. I did not hover over her. I did not make it worse. I looked out the window, and held space for my girl, as she demonstrated yet another feat of bravery. Letting professionals she’d never met poke around in her mouth, bright lights, sounds, uncomfortable sensations. She handled it all.

When I got home I went into the privacy of my bedroom and cried. It is so tiring to be treated like this, and when it happens it brings up every other time it’s happened.

And then, like we autism parents do, I got on with things.

The reminder post card is serving to mark my page in a book I’m currently reading. It’s about the brain and the different areas of it and how they effect various learning disabilities and how we can strengthen areas of weakness. It’s what I do. I study. I help my kids.

As I turn the post card with the reminder over and look at it, I think about all this. It occurs to me Cleveland has a dental school. I wonder if somehow I could arrange to talk with the up-and-coming students. I wonder if in some small way, I can help turn this around.

Posted in appreciation, Asperger's, autism, special needs, special needs parenting, Uncategorized | 14 Comments

Let’s Take the Long Way Home

I just finished Gail Caldwell’s memoir Let’s Take the Long Way Home(Random House, 2010). It is a book about two friends, and one of the friends dies, and it is sad. I didn’t spoil anything, the death is mentioned on the first page.

Both women are writers. Both women are addicted to alcohol but are sober. Both are obsessed with their dogs. Both are introverts. The one who died, Caroline Knapp, is the author of a memoir titled, Drinking: A Love Story. Now I suppose I have to go read that one as well! I’m always intrigued by stories of people who manage to triumph over addiction.

Above all, Let’s Take the Long Way Home is about female friendship. It’s about finding a friend you have everything in common with. And it’s also about unexpectedly losing her.

I read the book in less than 24 hours. It made me miss the intimacy of close female friendships. The kind where you call each other every day and know everything about each other. At this stage in my life I don’t have time for it. I love my friends but there’s not one of them I have the energy to talk to every day, nor them me. E-mail helps.

But I miss it. I didn’t realize how special it was when I had it. When I was single and unencumbered by the dude or the cute people.

This book reminded me how precious friendships are. And how precarious life is.

And yes, how totally healing it is to have a dog. I knew that, but it was nice to be reminded.

I can’t recommend Let’s Take the Long Way Home enough. It’s sad, but also life-affirming. Friendship affirming.

I loved it.

Posted in appreciation, book reviews, Uncategorized | 9 Comments

A Writer’s Guilt

I’m up in my office fretting that I should be downstairs. Feeling guilty about holing out in my room. I’ve not done much writing today. The family pull, the feeling of obligation is strong. I’m half downstairs anyway, even when I’m up here.

I give in. Downstairs, Seth is happily playing Wii. Riley is watching him. Todd is playing solitaire on his computer.

I walk over to him.

“I feel guilty.”

“Why?” he asks.

“For being upstairs,” I say.

He looks around at the peaceful scene behind us. Riley on the couch with a blanket. Chihuahua curled up on her lap. Seth happy with Wii remote in hand.

He says the nicest thing anyone could possibly say, “No one misses you.”

Relief washes over me and I laugh, “Thank God.”

I head back upstairs.

Posted in marriage, Uncategorized, writing | 5 Comments

Israel and Iran: A love story?

Love.

Posted in appreciation, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Regreso: A Journey

My friend Jen is heading to El Salvador, the country of her birth. She was adopted in 1980 and barely escaped the country’s civil war in which 75,000 Salvadorans were killed. In El Salvador she will be attending a conference to help support LGBT rights there and also making a documentary about her experience.

What must it have been like to narrowly escape such brutality? How does that effect your world view, and your sense of self? What if you are gay? To have come from a place whose LGBT rights are even less than our own here in the U.S. How does that play into it all?

Click on the red “Regreso: A Journey” button above to read more of Jen’s fascinating story and to see the adorable photos of her as a baby and little girl. I know she’s going to rock this documentary, and I know this is going to be a huge transformational journey for her.

I am excited to be able to support LGBT rights globally, in such a personal way.

P.S. Jen has the most powerful and amazing singing voice ever. One time our chorus was performing at the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame for World AIDS Day, and we were the last act of the night. People were starting to trickle out. We began our set with a Jen solo and people who’d been heading home stopped in their tracks. They kinda re-thought things, and decided to stay. Thank you El Salvador. We’ve got one of your treasures.

Posted in appreciation, gay rights, LGBT, Uncategorized | Tagged | 5 Comments

You’re Okay

By now most of you have probably seen this video of little Jessica doing her positive affirmations in the mirror, just loving herself. I came across the video again the other day. A couple of clicks down the YouTube rabbit hole and there I was, watching Jessica welcome her baby sister.

The baby begins to fuss and Jessica, after a moment of surprise at the sound, begins to soothe her new baby, telling her “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re fine.”

It’s about the sweetest thing ever.

Isn’t that what all of us really want to know? That we’re okay? That we’re fine? That it’s all going to be alright?

Next time I feel like fussing, I hope I remember Jessica. I hope I tell myself, “You’re okay.”

I hope I remember, I’m fine.

#goodparenting

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I kissed a book, and I liked it

Juhi, long time reader of this blog and all around good person (she donated toward Jingle over four years ago!) at Nooks & Crannies tagged me in this meme.

1. Are you genre agnostic or do you read only specific genres? Why?

I am drawn mostly to non-fiction, mostly memoir, but I love to sink my teeth into a good novel every so often. I don’t tend to read fantasy or sci-fi or romance, or mysteries, or anything too scary but I would never rule out entire genres. Like music, if it’s good, it’s good. Doesn’t matter what genre. I’m game. I love to be surprised and inspired. But if I don’t love it immediately, I won’t continue reading. There are too many other good books beckoning.

2. How and who started you on your love affair with the written word?

As a child, Charolette’s Web opened my heart and allowed me to cry. It felt so good to have a reason to cry that made sense when so much of my world was unfathomable and I literally had to be cut off from so many of my feelings in order to survive.

Also Judy Blume. In elementary school I borrowed the books from a friend, as fast as her mother bought them for her and she finished reading them. I would take the books out to my “fort” in the back of our huge barn like garage, and bring a sandwich (ham and American on a hard roll from Jimmy Roma’s bakery), and a blanket, and snuggle up on a cot and read for hours. A layer of dirt covered everything, including the windows. There were cracks in the walls and in the ancient cement floor, and it smelled like an old auto shop, but it was private and quiet and I was in bliss reading back there.

3. What were some of your favourite books as a tween and a teen?

Are You There God, It’s Me, Margaret- Judy Blume.

Forever (very racy) – Judy Blume

Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl

Catcher in the Rye. I could relate to Holden Caulfield’s negativity at the time.

I’m also embarrassed to say I read a couple of those awful V.C. Andrews books.

4. Have you found your reading taste change across the years?

Yes. I’m intolerant of gratuitous anything. I’m very conscious about what I take in as a reader these days. (Same with TV and film).

5. What’s your absolute favourite comfort read? Why?

Alice Walker’s The Color Purple. It’s got everything. Every word, perfection. Reading it is inhaling inspiration. On a reader level and a writer level. On a human level. Period.

6. Do you think a love for reading automatically leads to a love for writing as well?

No. I have plenty of friends who devour books but feel no call to write. I don’t understand them, but plenty of them exist. I’ve met them in person, seen them with my own eyes.

7. What’s your favourite book/reading memory?

My favorite book is Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. I love the sophistication with which she writes of the unsophisticated. I love the intelligence she depicts in the uneducated. Having dipped my toe in many worlds(class systems in the U.S.), I know that education does not necessarily equal intelligence, and that money does not necessarily equal class. I love the respect she gives to her poor characters. I love her utter unpretentiousness mixed with an otherworldly talent. I love the hilarity in the book. I love the dialect. I love how truthful and inspiring the book is and I love how Janie lived several different lives within one lifetime. I can relate to that.

My favorite reading memory might be when I sat in a reclining beach chair in St. Croix reading Rachel Naomi Remen’s Kitchen Table Wisdom (in between naps). I’d gone to visit a friend who was working on the island. My daughter was in the worst of her autism at that point and had been screaming non-stop for over a year, plus we had an 11 month old baby. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I found the book on my friend’s shelf, just waiting for me to pick it up. Divinely. The inspiring words, the sound of the water, the sun, the nurturing from my friend, all these things healed me.

Now I believe I’m supposed to make up new questions and tag some folks, so here are my questions:

1) What is the quality in a book that makes you want to dive in and keep turning the page?Name a book that demonstrates this quality.

2) What’s the first book you read that made you cry? Why did it make you cry?

3) How has social media impacted your reading/writing time?

4) Have you ever loved a book so much you kissed it? (Not made out with it, but offered it a sweet kiss on it’s cover, like giving a friend a kiss on the cheek)? Yeah…me neither.

5) Describe the ultimate reading conditions for you. Where? What? When? How? Go big.

6) True or false: (Tongue firmly in cheek)

If you can’t be bothered to read to them, you should not have children.

7) Have you or have you not read Daughter of the Drunk at the bar?

If yes, you have completed this meme assignment. If no, scroll to the top of my blog and hit the button with the little girl on the inner tube to purchase your copy(also available in the Kindle Store). That poor girl will be waiting in that inner tube until you do, and frankly her feet are getting waterlogged and wrinkly, and she’s due for some sunscreen, but whatever…that’s on you. No pressure.

I’ll tag, but even if I don’t tag you feel free to join in on the fun. Answer any and all these questions in a blog post or in the comments. MegCarrieDeeKariHollyeAmyLeah, Jenny.

Oh…one last thing, inspired by Nina Badzin, I’m going to add a new page here, keeping track of all the books I read in 2013. The page is titled BILK (books I’d like to kiss).

Happy New Year everyone! Thank you for reading my blog.

Lovedy-duv-duv.

Posted in appreciation, BILK, Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Facebook Fatigue

I’ve been taking a break from Facebook. I really should have done this during the election season. It felt very toxic then. It is a relief not to be taking in the constant chatter of     hundreds.

It is a relief not to be formulating pithy status updates in my mind as I go about my activities of daily living.

It is a relief not to feel obligated to read, read, read every wonderful thing all the people I really like and respect and admire pass along.

It is a relief not to read how fear based and ignorant and totally anti WWJD? some of my so called Jesus loving FB community is.

It is a relief to read Harry Potter (book 6) to my babies. At 10 and 12 they still snuggle up, and we read.

It is a relief to find the time to meditate every day.

There are many good things about Facebook. I love keeping in touch with people from my life I otherwise wouldn’t really know anymore were it not for the forum. I love being able to share photos with family and friends. I love getting to know some folks better whom I otherwise wouldn’t really have known at all. I love when I’m feeling particularly isolated to post something and have people respond. Zowie! Instant gratification! You like me, you really “like” me. Scratch my ego…a little to the left….yeah…right there!

I love that more people read my blog when I share links to new posts over there.

And I’ll admit it. There are times I’m very uncomfortable being “temporarily deactivated.” I want a quick fix. I want to avoid something. I want to hop on the train and see what’s cooking!

But if I sit with it a bit, that feeling of missing something passes. The urgency subsides.

Exploring my own heart, listening to my own voice, is what seems to be needed at this time. For what? I’m not sure, but I feel like I’m making room.

Posted in appreciation, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Fifteen Years of Hot Toddiness

He’s happy because it’s our anniversary. That’s not actually why he was happy. He was stepping outside to shovel/snow blow after working from 8-4:30 and driving home in a blizzard. And yet, look….happy.

It’s a look of “If you’re going to take the picture, which there’s no way I’m stopping you, will you take the picture already, please, so I can head out the door, because I really, really need to clear our driveway, our sidewalk, and possibly the elderly man up the street’s driveway and sidewalk….but I love you so much I’ll never truly be mad at you, even when you annoy me.”

That’s what I’ve lived with for fifteen years, (and dated two long years before that….he kept me in an excruciating wait. One year dating, one year engagement, some rigid rule in his head). Who came up with all these rules?

If we had a nickel for every time he’s talked me off the ledge, we’d be wealthy by now. He’s pure good.

Our marriage has been through some trying times, but he’s always full-on there, willing to do the work to make it better. He is willing to stretch in places that are uncomfortable in order to come through on the other side.

There are things only he and I know. Dark scary places, and places of indescribable mind bending joy. He is the one person on earth who has seen it all with me. And I with him.

One time when I was single, I sat by the water in Georgetown at night, looking up at the sky, feeling lonely. It was a Friday night and things were happening. I’d just walked past a street performer doing flip after acrobatic flip after flip. The night was alive.

As I looked up at the sky in this city by myself, I felt a longing for someone I didn’t know. I’m tempted to think it was a knowing, a longing for Todd, the person who would love me.  The one I would share my life with. It’s as if, I could actually feel him out there, our destinies heading toward each other. I was young and believed another would actually complete me.

What I found is not that. I found a person who loves me. Who helps me to not to be so hard on myself. Who can’t do it for me, but who gives me the opportunity to complete myself. He has loved me so well. He has helped me heal. He has shown me what true love, unconditional love is.

He doesn’t waver. I’m so thankful.

Happy anniversary, Love. We’re just getting started. Amen.

Posted in appreciation, marriage, Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Dull or Annoying?

Would you rather be considered annoying or dull? This was a question after dinner recently, when we were playing “Would You Rather?”

For some reason, the very question had us in stitches.

For the record, HT would rather be dull. I’d rather be annoying.

Of course there is no stopping anyone from being annoying and dull. So dull they are annoying.

I don’t know of dullness. There is never a dull moment around here.

For that, I am glad. Mostly.

Posted in appreciation, family, Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Merry Christmas

From our house to yours.

Love.

Posted in appreciation, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Safety

Seth could not sleep last night.

When he re-entered school this year after being homeschooled for two, the biggest stress for him was not the academic work, not the social aspects of making new friends, but the fire and lock down drills. Just the drills.

We addressed his fears with the school staff. We’ve taken some measures to help him through. His teacher has a few tricks up her sleeve to help in the moment. He’s even seen a counselor who gave him calming techniques to use during drills, such was his anxiety. He was starting to handle them much better.

Then Friday happened at Sandy Hook Elementary.

So it was after 10:00 last night and he was still not asleep. I came in and laid down with him and ran my fingers through his hair.

“What if a lock-down happens and I’m in the bathroom and I’m locked out of my class?”  Visions of being on his own in the hall with a gunman on the loose would not leave his mind.

I tried explaining that his chances of being harmed by an intruder at school were very very slim. “Seth, we have a better chance of winning the lottery,” I said. “Think of all the millions of school children in our country, who were not harmed on Friday. (I know that’s not really true, we were all harmed).

The numbers are too big. He can’t fathom what I am telling him.

So I tried a different tactic. “If that did happen, if a true lock-down happened and you weren’t in your class, you could hide under the stairs. Or you could run through the exit just past the stairwell. Don’t wait for a teacher’s permission. If you have an out, you take it. You go.  You have inner guidance. You would know what to do.”

“But what if the gunman is in the stair well?”

Breathe, mama. I check in with my heart and ask for words.

“Seth. I believe we all choose when to come into this life, and when to exit. I believe those very special children, those brave teachers, on a soul level, came to change the world. I believe if it is your time to go, you will go, and no heroic measures will save you, and if it is not your time to go, no human act can change that. No one is more powerful than God.”

He hugged me.

“Because that’s what we’re talking about here, right? Fear of death.”

He nodded, “And fear of getting shot.”

I continued rubbing his hair, and we talked about the body’s adrenaline and the natural anesthesia that happens when we are in crises, and how, often times, people don’t even feel pain until hours after a traumatic event. Those children probably felt no pain. We talked about how when I hit a deer with my car, there was no time to feel fear. How time slowed down and it was all surreal. How our amazing bodies have ways to protect us from trauma. Physically and emotionally.

We talked about how we’re all going to die. Every one of us. Some people live long lives. Some people live short lives. All lives are meaningful. All of them perfect for what the soul wanted to accomplish. I believe this.

“But if I died, I’d never see you again,” he blinked his eyes hard, fighting back tears.

We talked about a guy I know, whose teenage son died. This man claimed he felt so close to his son now. Where there was friction between them, only love remained. He talked with his son all the time. He felt him, ever near.

That’s the thing about death, isn’t it? We don’t know, none of us really know. But truly, in my heart, I believe those children and those grown ups who were killed Friday, will never be far from their loved ones. Ever near. Yes.

We talked about love, and how nothing can take it away. Not even death. He is in his dad and his sister and me. We are in him. He is loved. God loves him. Love does not die.

Love is his only true safety.

This morning, our brave boy got out of the car, and hauled his backpack over his shoulder. He looked back at his sister and me in the car, and waved. Then did it again. And again. All the way down the long sidewalk and into the building, to school.

Posted in appreciation, Parenting, special needs parenting, spirituality, Uncategorized | 15 Comments

What a child with Asperger’s and her sibling would like you to know…

Yesterday I posted this on Facebook:

“There are reports coming out that the CT school shooter had Asperger’s. Please on behalf of my sweet girl and others like her, PLEASE correct and stand up to any ignorance you see on this. My child with Asperger’s would rather die herself than harm another soul.”

We told the kids about the shootings yesterday. They were obviously sad about it and had a lot of questions, most of them pertaining to their own safety, which is pretty normal for kids.

Today we talked with Riley (12) and Seth (10) about the shooter allegedly being diagnosed with Asperger’s. Riley immediately felt fear that people would think every person with Asperger’s was bad. Seth says he felt scared for Riley.

This is what Riley would like you to know:

“Note to everybody, I am not a bad person. Just because that man with Asperger’s shot those people doesn’t mean that I’m bad. Just like when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor everyone thought every Asian person was bad but they’re not. Consider what my mom said about this, and it’s true that I would rather die than hurt somebody.”

Seth says,

“Not all people with Asperger’s are bad, and most are really nice.  I know a lot of them that are really sweet. My sister is really nice and she would never harm anybody. I’ve never met a mean person with Asperger’s.”

We are so sorry for all the people who lost their loved ones.

Amen.

Posted in Asperger's, special needs siblings, Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Fred Rogers Talks About Tragic Events in the News

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.

-Fred Rogers

 

Posted in Parenting, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Some Things I Like About My Husband

1) He fixes my Kindle when it freezes up.

2) He often fills up my gas tank without me asking (I would never ask…I know how to fill up my own tank…but it is nice when he does it).

3)He gives me as much space as I need and I never feel him pining away for me when I’m holed out in my little office, but he’s happy to see me when I return.

4) He gets what I do. Truly gets it. Appreciates it. Validates it. I mostly don’t even know what the hell I do, but he does, and he gets it.

5) He loves our kids as much as I do. They are his #1 priority.

6) He’s very open minded.

7) He’s smart.

8. He thinks I’m smart.

9)He will eat pizza any time, as many days in a row as it needs to happen. And he’ll be happy about it.

10) He does not drink and is happy to be designated driver.

11) He does the garbage and the taxes and the lawn mowing.

12) He doesn’t notice, or blame me, if the house is a wreck.

13) He’s good with the one-liners.

14) He thinks I’m hilarious.

15) He’s a wicked hard worker, and he’s competent and efficient and responsible.

*This list was compiled after I was flooded with appreciation when HT fixed my Kindle. He’s magic like that. Amen.

Posted in appreciation, Love., marriage, Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Gratitude at Bedtime

He puts the bookmark in his book, and we say prayers and he tells me what he’s grateful for. Tucking Seth into bed, I look at his sweet face long and hard and this is what I tell him.

“Seth. If ever I have a hard day, or I feel down, or I feel like the world is out to get me, or my life sucks, all I have to do it look at you to know that isn’t true, because I got you for a kid.”

He smiles and we look into each other’s eyes for a long, long time. And I know that it might not be easy for him at times. I know there has not been enough of me to go around. And I know it doesn’t matter.

He knows. He is my heart.

Posted in appreciation, special needs siblings | 10 Comments

Taking Perspective

Riley’s bus was late bringing her home yesterday. It’s actually a van. For some reason two vans had to be combined together. Kids that don’t usually ride together had to, and it was crowded. There was a little girl on the van. A little girl very much like Riley was as a little girl. She couldn’t deal with the change. She wanted to sit by someone particular and it didn’t work out the way she wanted it to. She was no doubt tired from a long day at school.

She melted.

For thirty solid minutes she screamed as if someone were killing her. Any attempts the other kids made to talk her through made it worse.

Riley got off the van and came into the house saying, “Mom. Dad. I think I know what you were going through when I was little.”

She told us the whole story.

“I felt sorry for her but I really just wanted her to shut up. I was getting a headache.”

We talked about how it must have felt for the little girl to have everything be different, and to be tired and confused. To feel crowded and upset. To have people keep trying to talk to her when she just needed space.

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” she said.

We told her she had nothing to apologize about. She was little and she didn’t feel good. And yes, sometimes it was maddening, but we understood, and we knew she was doing her best. We knew what a good kid she was, how sweet she was, how hard she always tries. And yes, on rare occasion because we ourselves have been limited, or tired, or confused and overwhelmed, we might not have handled it as well as we could have, but we have loved her every second of her life even if we weren’t dealing well with her at the time.

It was interesting to see her apply such perspective. It made me feel good. Not for her to feel guilty, but for her to acknowledge how the screaming child affected her nervous system, and to then place herself in our shoes.

I have carried so much guilt over times when I have not handled Riley’s meltdowns well. Most of the time I have and do handle things well, but sometimes I have not. And I fear those are going to be the things she will remember. Interestingly HT carries no such guilt. Just last week I pulled into the driveway and heard him screaming at her (another homework battle)all the way from outside in the driveway. He was over it in an hour. He’d let it go.

Later I asked him, not accusingly but just curiously…how that works.

“You’re okay with the fact that you were screaming at her?”

He shrugged, “I don’t like that I screamed at her, but she was exasperating.”

End of story.

That’s the kind of thing I will kick myself over for months or even years. I don’t get it. Is it a difference between men and women? Is it just me and my crazy desire to do everything, including motherhood perfectly? Or is he a rat bastard? Or does he merely have a healthier acceptance of his being human and all?

Anyway…back to Riley. This ability to step into our shoes, even for thirty minutes, makes me hopeful. It makes me feel like she will look back at her childhood and understand her parents in all their imperfection.

And love us anyway.

Posted in Asperger's | 12 Comments

Saying Yes to My No

I’m experimenting with not saying yes to things I really want to say no to.

So far, so good.

Nothing further.

Amen.

Posted in appreciation | 5 Comments