Category: Holidays

I thought I was going to write a post about how Mother’s Day is a bull$h!t holiday. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am appreciative of the celebration. I welcome the opportunity to be spoiled and pampered. The chance to sleep in and not cook or clean for an entire day. I LOVE that part. It’s more the concept that the daily 5:30 am wake up, being a personal chauffeur, packing lunches, going to therapy, breaking up sibling fights, cooking, cleaning, laundry and the endless task of motherhood are to be celebrated on a single day with some flowers and macaroni art. It’s like telling someone how much you love them on Valentines Day, or thanking my child’s teacher on one day out of they year when they spend more waking hours with my children than I do. But I guess it’s better than nothing.

But rather than sound ungrateful, I decided I would reflect on motherhood a bit. The other day I wore my offensive shirt, you know, the one I wrote about here. My sweet friend came over for a playdate and wanted to buy one for herself to show her support. But of course, its not April anymore so no need to be aware of autism amiright? So I was browsing Etsy, knowing that I could find something similar in design if not identical, and something weird happened. I saw so many inspiring and beautiful words ready for me to wear, and I started to tear up. It feels ridiculous typing it, that t-shirts were bringing on a flood of emotions, but I think that is all part of this journey. Most days my outlook is positive. I don’t expect or want sympathy. I just live my life in my blissful way. But sometimes, this whole thing just sucks.

7 years ago, I celebrated my first mother’s day. Rivers wasn’t born yet, but he was growing inside only a few short months away from his debut. We had a lot of difficulty conceiving, including a miscarriage, so it was definitely a Mothers’ Day to celebrate. But like any first time mom, I had no idea what was coming. But unlike most other moms, I was hit with the additional challenge of autism. It’s like God or the universe was playing a cosmic joke, saying “how bad do you really want a child”.

Motherhood is not at all what I expected. I think 98% of mothers out there agree. And to the other 2%, well I have some choice words for you. Mothering is hard, people try and tell you this, but it’s not something that can be explained. Many people may come and go in your life, but your mother is irreplaceable. And that responsibility is intense. The burden of raising children is the heaviest I have ever felt. And I feel the added pressure to do right by Rivers; and I don’t even know what that means.

I sat with a friend today, her son was recently diagnosed. And I asked her, if she ever felt like I do, like she was robbing her child of his childhood. The therapy and all the extra work we put in, the extra reading time and the pressure to make sure he is trying his hardest. When does he get to just be a 6 year old? Is this the right path? Everyone tells you how key early intervention is, and I agree, everything we have done through this point has made our lives better. We have seen noticeable changes and progress and I know we would be struggling so much more if we had not done these things. I believe it to my core, or I would not have made those decisions.

But the guilt. I feel guilty he can’t just exist the way most of us do. That he can’t sit the way that’s comfortable for him because its bad for his core. Or that we have to practice walking up and down stairs because he needs to be able to step on one step than another, rather than stepping with both feet on the same step. And that somehow, if we don’t do these things, he might not hold his pencil correctly. What’s the point? If you have never experience occupational therapy this all might sound crazy to you, and it is. And I am completely oversimplifying the work they do. But my exaggerated point being, I have to train him how to exist, because he isn’t doing it right.

I honestly don’t know how women survive this. But somehow, we do or we will. We pour our love into our children, we make sacrifices and tough decisions all in the name of our children. I don’t know if the decisions I make are right, and thats what makes this so hard. I won’t know if it worked until it’s too late to correct it. But what I do know, is that I make most choices with the best of intentions, with their best interest in mind. I only hope that when all is said and done, that is what my children remember.

Thank God for my mother. I know after experiencing my own struggles in motherhood (and this is basically the beginning), I appreciate my own mother so much more. She is my rock, and knows exactly how to comfort me when I need it. She knows when to offer advice and when to shut up. She never undermines me as a mother, and never suggests I do things differently. She never makes me feel like I’m not doing this right.

So to all the women in the trenches and to all the women that support them, Happy Mother’s Day.

We’re coming off Easter weekend and a week where I was traveling. I am literally writing this about 2 hours after landing from my photography convention. In the before time, where I was blissfully childless, I imagined holidays as a magical time. I imagined a Christmas morning filled with excitement, a sleepless eve where my children were giggling all night in their rooms desperately listening for hooves on the roof. In short, I imagined the excitement I felt as a child in my own hypothetical children.

Then, I had children. Let me just tell you, that being a parent around magical holidays is HARD. I think this is true for parents of atypical and neurotypical children. Creating magic is impossible, unless you are a magician. I am not. So instead, its hours searching stores, browsing amazon, hiding the gifts meant to be from the enchanted holiday figure. It’s exhausting.

I am just going to come out and say this, I have always struggled celebrating holidays with Rivers. He doesn’t buy into the magic, he never really felt the excitement in the unknown. In fact, this last Christmas was the first time I felt like he actually understood that Santa brings him presents on Christmas eve. And even then, he wasn’t this mysterious man living in the snow to fly over homes and sneak down their chimneys. He was just simply the reason that presents were on the fireplace on Christmas morning. He just didn’t seem to get it, it was just factual because he believes what I told him.

I felt a tremendous amount of guilt about this. He believes what I told him, and I feel an obligation to be honest with him. And I don’t say this as a mother of an ordinary child, where there is a bit of guilt knowing that when the truth comes out they will know you lied to them. This is guilt because of how his brain works, and how he processes information. He is incredibly literal, if you watch The Big Bang Theory, think Sheldon Cooper. How he doesn’t understand sarcasm, that is Rivers. And because he is 6, he doesn’t have the front lobe capacity to process the logistical impossibility of these things.

So not only am I a guilt ridden liar, I struggle to find what sorts of things to buy Rivers. He’s never been into toys, but somehow we have also never had a shortage of them. Last Christmas he asked for a watch and 3 door closers. Yes, you read that right. A door closer, a device that you attach to your door that will automatically close them behind you. You can find them for about $12 at home depot. We currently have 5 installed in our home, with 1 disabled after my husband had a specific frustrating incident with one of the doors. So what in the world do you buy a kid who doesn’t like toys, for a holiday? If you find out let me know. This year, his Easter basket was stuffed with some items I would consider less than fun.

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Rivers is obsessed with numbers, and I mean that literally and not in the generic more playful meaning like “OMG he is totally obsessed with numbers”. I mean he is hyperfocused on them. He taught himself basic math before kindergarten, tries to count to 1000, you get the idea. At the time I bought these number disks he was assigning every good thing someone in our family did a point value. So cooking dinner was worth 10,000 points some nights and other maybe 5 points. When I found these disks and the coins in the dollar spot at Target I knew it was a win. You can also find them at Learning Resources online. The tape is because he creates with it. Up until this point we had only used blue painters tape and some white gaffers tape I used in my photography business. So when I found this colorful tape, I thought we might expand his creativity.

All in all, we did ok. I don’t consider Easter in the same realm as Christmas, so the excitement level was exponentially low, as expected, but still fun. We went to lunch at a park with my family where we hid eggs and ate fried chicken. But as I stumble through this journey, I am learning to manage my expectations around these holidays. I am mourning the loss of the holidays I expected. I spend them confused on what to give, and how to celebrate. How do I perpetuate the magic for my younger, neurotypical child, while still giving and managing the needs of my oldest? Is it even possible? I think, that its time for me to learn to be ok with what we have and what we are, instead of hanging on to the idea of what we are not. I wish it were as easy to do as it is to say.