Two hats, one head....

They say that autism parents have stress levels similar to combat soldiers. I do not doubt this. Some lives are easier than others, but in the long run, it really does take it's toll. There are doctors, specialists, and fights with the school. There are battles over schedules, food, and responsibility. There are a lot of battles. Most families seek out a local support system to help them survive the turmoil and stress that, just getting through some days requires. I envy those people. I don't envy many people. I am usually pretty content with our family and what we have been dealt. I am a strong and capable woman. I know this and find more strength in myself daily. It doesn't come without a price.

I may not have a strong support system, for what seems to everyone around me, to be things I should just figure out how to handle. However, I AM the support system for them. I am the baby of the children and eldest of the grandchildren. I am the only one with special needs kids, or kids between the ages of two and fifteen. I run myself ragged, day in and day out, just to get my own life to function. Still, most days, I am the only responsible adult around, other than my wife. When push comes to shove and tragedy rears it's very ugly head, we shoulder the brunt of the difficult stuff.

I won't go into detail, but this week, we had a very scary family emergency. I admit, my family is really good at running a telephone game, but action... It's not there. Someone very near to me came as close to deaths door as anyone can. When I received the call, nothing had been done about her son. Nobody had gone to get him. He's a teen and said some angry teen things when the family stepped up. His eyes saw the family taking his mom. Never mind that she was sick. He saw them taking her away. I get it.

Anyway, I flew into action. I immediately secured numbers and called around. I arranged for him to come here. I picked him up and sheltered and cared for him for three days. His mom is in the hospital. Someone needed to care for him. I honestly don't mind that. What really gets me, is this: With all the family here, how is it that I was the only one to go to the hospital everyday and take him back and forth an hour to his house and still keep my own schedules with my own kids?

The rest of the family gets time to process it all. They get to cry in the privacy of their homes at night and step away from it all. I brought it home. They call and tell me how or what to say to this boy because he is so angry. It is so important to them for him to understand everyone else's position. His emotions and processing don't seem to matter. They may have tried the blunt approach to get through his panic, but some of the things said to this child were terrible. Hell, some of the things they said to his mom were not so great, even if they were true.

The whole situation was badly handled. I spent three days talking and being there for a boy who nearly lost his mother and they did everything they could to make it as miserable as they could, for him. They dragged him into family discussions that NO child should be a part of. They included family members in those discussions that had no real place in them. They ostracized this child to the point that he blocked their numbers for a good two days. All the while, I am doing what I do around here with my own kids, plus taking care of his needs. That meant a lot of driving and a lot of putting out fires.

I see where the family wants him to see things correctly, but as long as he is burying the pain, he isn't going to see much of anything. I took him home yesterday. I am waiting to hear if he will be returning for a few days, during the holidays. He's a good kid. Today was really hard for me. (Here is where we come back around to that stress level.) I live with this heightened level of stress. I guess I just forget that I am the family firefighter too. While everyone decompressed and handled their grief and shock in their own way, I was holding it together and doing what I had to to make sure we didn't lose him.

In the quite of the morning and the uncertainty of the days to come, I had a little time to think. Yes, I have been protecting this boy and getting him through, but I almost lost her too. I can't fully come out of crisis mode because, honestly, this is far from over, but I need to let some of it out. I almost lost her. It was like a tidal wave of emotions. I pushed most of them back down, but it was enough.

I finally ate something. It seems that I forgot to do that. I was too worried about making sure he did. I have been plagued with nightmares, that until I really looked at them today, didn't make sense. I am afraid for me and my family. My wife is so capable, but to do this alone is a daunting thought. I have no doubt that my family would circle the wagons, but what happens when I am not there to put out the flames? What if it is me? Who is going to remain calm? Who is going to put my children ahead of any agenda and treat them with dignity and respect? I don't know. I really don't. I mean, I brought her underwear in the hospital. Somehow, I found time between school, stress, running the kids around, and family life, to go shopping for her and bring them down to her. Underwear. Simple thing. She was asking. Why did nobody do this for her?

I bet if I asked, they would tell me they didn't have time. Nobody ever has time. I needed time today. I needed somebody to look at what my family did this week and say, "You did so much. We appreciate it. You must be tired. Let me take the kids for an hour or two." Funny thing is, I haven't gotten a call all day. I did my job. Now, my family is shuffled back to the section everyone ignores. I am left to pull myself together and still function, when really, I just need one day or night to cry it out and deal with it all.

I would never change who I am at my core. I will always be there to help. I will never leave a child in the cold and I will always be there to help. Just, sometimes, I wish it was more of a two way street. I guess the point of this all is, don't overlook what others are doing for you. Don't underplay the acts or help. Appreciate what you have. It is hard to be an autism mom. It is infinitely harder to be an autism mom and the family firefighter. Hug your level headed family member. Be a shoulder to the one who didn't look inward and really put themselves out there as a stress sponge. Appreciate that. Not many people are like that.

I am not completely selfless, but I do value family and children. I hope that others do so as well.

Mommy Guilt

When you get pregnant, people tell you to rest up. You won't be getting sleep. Your parents tell you all your own baby stories. They tell you to buy diapers a size too big. They tell you you don't need all that fancy nonsense like diaper pails and wipe warmers. There is all this advice coming at you from every direction. Some of it is good, some of it is not so good, but it is a virtual treasure trove of advice.

When your kid turns two, they tell you that he will be into everything. She will hide all your stuff. He will throw temper tantrums. Just as they are about to turn three, they tell you that it isn't REALLY the terrible twos, but that three is worse. They tell you to expect it to get worse.

As the years go on, they tell you what milestones and things you can expect. They tell you how you should do or handle something. For a neuortypical child, this is stereotyping at it's best. For kids on the spectrum, it's like a big neon sign that says, "You are doing it wrong."

Thing is, despite the makeup of your neurology, us moms get mommy guilt. We really do. Why our parents or parents of older children don't tell us about this, I have no idea. It is awful. There is some sort of rite of passage amongst parents that says at one time or another, probably several times, you are going to feel like a failure. Somewhere in the secret mommy manual, which I ripped up and burned, we aren't supposed to talk about it.

Why does my kid talk to me like that? Why can't they keep their hands to themselves? Why is no not sufficient? Why are they so destructive? Why do they have to steal instead of ask for things? The list goes on and on. Where did I go wrong? What could I have done different? How did I NOT teach my child that is not alright? And here is the thing...

You did. Well, you most likely did. Most parents do. However, kids entering their teen years and beyond throw out all we taught them and try to find their way. Usually their way is full of really bad choices and behaviors. It isn't an indication of your skill as a parent, it means you did something right. Your kid is trying to find their way in the world instead of being a sheep amongst lions.

The fact that you are sitting there, crying your eyes out, about what you should have, could have done different, tells me something about you. It tells me something about me, when I clean the tear tracks and snot off my face. If I was a horrible parent that never taught my children these lessons, I wouldn't be so upset when they were not putting them to use. If you feel like you failed, then you tried. In today's society, that is more than a lot of parents do. It doesn't mean that you failed. It means you care enough to worry that you did. It means you are thinking about how to change the cycle or behavior. It means that you are being a good parent.

You see your child suffering and you just want to fix it, but they aren't babies anymore. Sometimes, they have to fix it themselves. Notice that your mommy guilt doesn't say what did THEY do wrong. It says what did *I* do wrong. That tells me that their suffering is impacting you, but the mommy in you wants to fix it. It's alright to be sad about the choices our children make, but as they get older, they do have to make them. No matter the lessons we impart, they will fall. They will make mistakes. That is part of life. It isn't what you could have done differently. For them, it is a learning experience. You taught them to behave, act, and speak a certain way. Now they want to know why the other way is not ok.

It's something we should be telling each other. Why we suffer through this guilt alone, is beyond me. We all share it. It's something we all go through. The fear and guilt of having a child grow up and test boundaries needs to be something people tell you.

Just know, you aren't alone. Millions of mommies out there share that guilt. We cry. We shout to the heavens. We hide our faces in fear that it is our fault. It's not. It's part of growing up. Not just for them, but for us too. We have to go through this. I don't know why yet. I am still in the middle of it, but maybe someday I will.