Mommy Thoughts

Being a mommy is such hard work sometimes but wow... It is a treasure too, isn't it?

It amazes me, as I sit here with one child 'all grown up' at 21 years old and my youngest being 12-plus having my nephew living with me since February, that each child has so much to offer.

Mr.AllGrownUp is a gentle rebel. 

He, really, is the child that taught me to respect non conformance.  He has never had that timid obedience to authority. He is the child that always questioned, demanded that one earned his respect before he gave it and had no problem with breaking the rules when he felt it was necessary. He felt it necessary in Kindergarten when he 'got in a fight' with another child.  He told me and the principal that he did indeed understand that fighting is wrong but "That kid was pushing a girl off the play fort!"
He felt it was 'worth the consequences' in grade eleven when he got in between two girls that were fighting (one ended up in the hospital) and was suspended.  (Zero tolerance policy). 

He is also the child that taught me that not all boys think hitting is fun.  He is the boy that walked away.  That would protect himself, but chose to not hit back.

He taught me that parenting is a valuable skill.  That i had to hone that skill, be flexible enough to learn new things fast but rigid enough to maintain some sort of order.  He taught me, with his sticky hand in mine, that there was nothing more valuable that i could be doing.  That being a mother was the most important thing I would ever do.

Ms Princess is fast becoming 'allgrowedup'.  Being the only daughter, she and I have had some spectacular clashes yet I admire her beyond words.

She is the child that taught me just how important self acceptance and confidence is.  She taught me to have patience for my own weaknesses, to not judge myself so harshly.  She is very confident, close to being 'cocky'.  She excels at everything she puts her hand to.  She can draw, paint, play guitar, sing and write with skill and talent.  She is the junior captain of the Wrestling team, performs in front of her peers without issue, plays sports and is an honour roll student.

Ms Princess is the child that taught me to see the world around me as beautiful, exciting and educational.  From the time she could crawl she demonstrated how a drawer was actually a play area, rich with sound, texture and exploration possibilities.  That flour was a medium for art, an ingredient for play, integral to science (inside joke, she dumped a huge pail of flour on little man's head).  She was constantly 'getting into trouble'-destroying things, colouring on walls, emptying ketchup onto the flour-you name it.  She just HAD to KNOW! To know what it felt like, looked like, tasted like and of course what it looked like on her younger brother's head.

 She taught me that people go through phases.  Princess has been the teacher's pet and the teachers arch nemesis.  She has been the 'popular' child in class and the wall flower.  She has been raucous and loud and ultra calm and quiet.  She has been the burly and been the champion of the bullied.  (I wonder if that is all part of her exploratory nature? )

My daughter, she taught me that I can be spitting mad and filled with love and tenderness all at the same time.  That I can watch a physical sport like wrestling and have the urge to jump on the mat and help.  She taught me be artistic, to create and be proud of my accomplishments.

Little Man is our child on the ASD spectrum. 

He is the child that taught me that every dang child is completely unique.  That experience can be a detriment when we use it to make assumptions.  As the oldest of four children and having run daycare for ten years I went into my pregnancy with Little Man with confidence.  From the moment of the first ultrasound he has been teaching me to leave room for differences, to not be rigid with over confidence.

He is the child that taught me to fight when I feel it is needed.  That passive does not cut it.  He taught me to stand up for what is right regardless of who disagreed (the whole dang family told me I was wrong, that I should not worry about him.)

He is the child that taught me that there is great joy in being an advocate.  That labels are just words-needed to services but change nothing.  He taught me that the things we fear are only scary if we refuse to learn about them.

Little Man taught me to be humble.  His genuine honesty humbles me.  His amazing ability humbles me.  His sweet smile and quirky humor.

Little Man taught me that nothing is impossible. 

I can't imagine my life being without my children-any of them.  Their diverse personalities and their love of life has been the greatest gift I have ever received. 

Hugs and laughter

Tradegy? w/e not in this house!

Tragedy? w/e not in this house.

I am astounded by the parents who are tooting their own horn with how difficult, how painful, how awful it is to raise a child on the spectrum.
Excuse me? Someone forgot to tell me that is is a burden to me! That I should whine and cry about how close to utter despair I am. bleh.
I don't FEEL sad, or devastated. My son is not a 'ghost' or a 'shadow' nor is his 'lost'. I raise him with much the same outlook I have been raising my non spectrum children.
When my oldest struggled with Science, I found tools to help him. I researched the subjects he was learning. I became an somewhat expert at his grade level scientific terms. I found after school help. I used all kinds of techniques to inspire him, from sticker charts to rewards. When as a toddler he would runaway, regardless of the danger, I discussed, taught and prevented, by whatever means necessary. (Yes, I DID use that halter and lead with him in public. No I DON'T feel it shamed him. What it did do was prevent him from running into traffic. Safety first please!) When he started 'dating' and was a doofus to his girlfriend I again used every tool I could find to teach him better male-female relationship skills.
When my daughter demonstrated a natural talent for music, I found her cheap instruments, a karaoke machine, got her lessons. I learned more about music than I even knew was out there. I encouraged. When she developed a habit of bullying her pals I again researched, became a somewhat expert and found tools to teach her. I set consequences and rewards.
With my youngest I do the same things. I research, I find tools, I encourage, I set consequences. I find the tools he needs and I find ways to teach that are appropriate for him
With all of my children my goal is to work myself out of a job. To provide the tools they need to grow to be independent and happy. To nurture their strengths and strengthen their weaknesses. To love them, accept them and enjoy them.
They are each unique. With every child I have ever cared for there have been vast differences between their needs and responses. No one parenting rule has ever worked with all of them. Why is it so startling to some people that the same is true with a child on the spectrum? How is doing the same things I do for the others, but because he is autistic, make my life harder? or a tragedy?
Do these parents ever have joy of their children?
Ever giggle hysterically at the literal translations of our very sarcastic based society?
Accept the love their child gives in their unique way?
Take joy in their successes?
At the end of the day, my heart is full. Like any mother I worry about my children-but they fill my heart. I am so very proud of all of them.
Tragedy? What is truly tragic is our (people as a whole) desire to force others to conform. Our inability to be comfortable with differences. Our lack of self responsibility. (I don't really care WHY he is the way he is. I care how to raise him to maximize his potential and support his endeavors.)
So no, I do not feel cheated. I have three happy, dynamic children. What more can a mommy ask for?
Hugs and Laughter