I’ll get back to the sense stuff, I promise – but right now (at 9:34 PM on Wednesday evening) there is something more troubling to me. Well, it’s not actually troubling – but I’m having a bit of a pity party.
Honestly, it’s more of a moderate sized pity party.
There is an apple crisp in my oven and vanilla ice cream in my freezer. Hopefully between that and writing – I’ll feel better in an hour or so. Yes, homemade comfort food and cathartic writing makes me feel better. So do my husband’s kisses on my forehead as tears roll down my face.
It’s a tough thing this spectrum business. I know I am SO BLESSED that he’s healthy. I know I am SO BLESSED in so many ways. Honestly though? There are days…days that it just downright chaps my hide.
It just does and there is no way of getting around that.
As I sit here tonight I’m going through “The Social Success Workbook for Teens: Skill-Building Activities for Teens with Nonverbal Learning Disorder, Asperger’s Disorder & Other Social-Skill Problems” by Barbara Cooper and Nancy Widdows. I received a message from Tucker’s Special Education teacher (with whom he spends a couple hours a week) that she thinks it will be helpful for him if they work their way through the lessons and activities.
You know what?
She’s right. I’m reading the entire thing because she asked for my help and support in talking to Tucker about why it’s important that he work through this. I know she’s right.
The thing is 133 pages long. I started crying at page 40 and that’s actually pretty good. Why did I start crying? Because it’s all so true.
It’s all so true. He struggles with EVERY FLIPPING THING in this book. EVERY DAMN THING.
I know – this strays from my usually upbeat ‘autism is amazing’ post – but sometimes we just have to go there. Get real – here is some language I don’t normally use.
It just sucks. It’s crappy. It frustrates me. I hate it (yes, mom – I said hate. I know I should say dislike, but I need to say hate). All of it.
He already struggles with the sensory overload, he struggles with writing, he struggles with so much – and he has to struggle with this too? Damn it…it’s so unfair to him. I get that all children have their ‘thing’ – that thing (or things) that they struggle with. I get that it’s life and that he’ll be better off and that he’s so lucky to have a great support team and bla, bla, bla and all the other crap we tell ourselves to feel better.
Man, I just want him to have a break.
I want him to have a pause.
My sweet husband takes over now and reminds me that Tucker will be so much better off than many other children because of the extra work he does in recognizing relationships and emotions and all of that stuff. I know he’s right.
But not right now. Not in this moment. I don’t want to hear it.
I want him to have a pause. I want him to have a break. I want him to not have to try so hard. I want him to ‘just know’ that flipping over a board game because he didn’t know the rules isn’t okay. I want him to ‘just know’ what he feels. I want him to ‘just know’ how to communicate his anger.
I want him to have a pause to give his brain a break. Maybe it could reset itself? No, I know that’s not true. I know that’s impossible. I know this is his reality. I know it all.
The timer just went off. The crisp is ready.
My pity party pause is over.