About Mom

Here we were in December 2007, a month and a half after my son’s birth. Exhausted, but optimistic about our future together as a family. Our son was and continues to be beautiful – so much better looking than either Mommy or Daddy. We felt so lucky – “our child is healthy, happy, and good looking. We’re pretty awesome human beings. Yay team.” Und so on und so on.

I’d say that these days, after my son’s diagnosis in November 2010, we are just barely climbing out of the mourning phase. We have tried the GFCF diet, the DAN! doctor, the ABA classroom. We did the supplement thing, and send our son to all the speech, verbal behavior and occupational therapy that we can afford (read: charge to our credit cards). I started this blog for the same reasons as everyone else out here in “autism bloggyland”: to vent, to confess, to speak the words to a mostly faceless Internet that I may not be able to utter to the moms I see in the neighborhood – the moms whose kids are “typical”.

I am a Mom to two children (son born in 2007, daughter born in 2009), wife to one grown man, and in need of an outlet on which I can express my feelings about Autism as honestly as possible. I could, of course, do this in a private journal – old school, but at least hidden away from critics and people who don’t like my blunt thoughts on this topic served up on a platter. However, part of me wants someone out there to understand what it’s like on the inside. And part of me wants other people out there in the world to find me and high-five me for not praising the heavens for providing me with such a valuable life lesson in the form of an autistic son.

We have a beautiful daughter as well. We worry about her – that she may fade a bit into the background, since she thrives without all of the resources we devote to our son. Thankfully, she has a forceful personality. I have high hopes that she will speak up and smack us around a bit, if ever we forget to make her feel just as special. I love my children equally. I only hope that they feel loved equally.

And while I love my son as powerfully as every mother should, I want him to be whole and not hidden away under the punishing mesh of Autism that surrounds him. He is in there somewhere. And I’m not convinced that he will ever be released. But please don’t tell me that life is just peachy the way it is. ‘Cause it isn’t. And this is the place where I describe why. I need this place, this freedom, and my words. If you happen to stumble across my little scroll of Autism-related thoughts, I hope you’ll be kind of enough to respect my right to speak honestly, even if you prefer your Autism-related reading to be more optimistic and humorous. There are plenty of mom bloggers out there who can set you up. But me? I’m just recording my thoughts on the world as I see it.

Update:

I just reread this,10 years later. I sounded remarkably cheerful, I’d say. This is mostly still accurate. I, however, am more tired, grey-haired, and world weary. We don’t live in the city anymore though. We moved to the country and run two non-profit farms (in addition to our day jobs, which actually pay the bills). So that’s different. And I can make bread, milk goats, and can vegetables now.

Our son is no longer who we thought he was, and that has shaken everything up in a beautiful way. He has revealed himself to be a keen observer of the world, as well as a “witty and handsome boy”. He is still autistic. Still doesn’t speak. But he is very much in there and ready to tell you who he is and what he wants. Our daughter is a clever feminist in the making (who also stares at TikTok a lot and takes skin care products very seriously). She is a beast on the soccer field, and a helluvan arguer, which is good, since she plans to become a lawyer.

We make the most out of our lives and hope to leave behind an organization for adults like my son and a safety net in place for my kids that will allow us to die knowing we tried our best, no matter how deeply imperfect we are.