The Things No One Tells You About (Motherhood)

I was listening to a song not too long ago about someone's daughter and how she grows up too quickly. And it's true. But no one ever told me that would happen. This nostalgia has been weighing on my mind and heart a lot these past few months.

When I was pregnant with my first child, no one ever told me to enjoy having a miracle grow inside my belly. They only wanted to talk about all the complaints I had about being pregnant. When I was pregnant again shortly after the first, I didn't even have time to enjoy it if I wanted to. All I wanted to do was be able to bend over to pick up my very active toddler. No one told me that I might never be pregnant again. No one told me to be thankful for that little miracle and the bond we shared for nine months.

I have been focused a lot with my eldest child as he has special needs. And while I don't neglect my second-born, I know she doesn't need me nearly as much. She has just turned 4 and might as well be going on 18! It breaks my heart. I feel as if, on some level, my son will always need me in some capacity. But my daughter, well, she'd just rather do it herself. I love that about her. It also leaves me watching mostly from the sidelines. I wish I could go back in time and take a picture of all the memories I hurried to get through, since no one told me I would one day regret moving so fast to get there.

I remember waiting for her to talk then at five months she surprises us with "mama." No one told me I would miss her babbling and blowing spit bubbles. I remember wondering if she would ever stop nursing only to have her wake up one day at 11months and shake her head at me when I offered my milk. I know no one told me that I would miss diaper changes. But after she potty trained herself around 18months, the games we played on the changing table stopped, too. No one told me not to wish for her to finally start walking because that would mean I would have no reason to cradle her in my arms. No one told me I would miss those sweet moments.

And so I created this incredibly independent, spirited, and astoundingly intelligent young lady. I couldn't be prouder of her. But in doing so, I also hit fast forward past all the moments that make having a baby so precious.

I now have a pre-pre teen. She dresses herself, does her own hair. She tells me what kind of toys she wants me to buy, she plans her own menu for lunch, and she even back-seat drives while in the car with me. ("Mommy, yellow means slow down," "Mommy, you're going too fast," "This isn't the way to our house. Are you going the right way,") She doesn't want play dates with me she wants play dates with her friends. In fact, this weekend she taught herself how to swing. No one told me I would miss that.

While I regret all that I let slip away so quickly, I am grateful for the little girl she has become. She is respectful but can speak her mind. She won't let anyone walk all over her or her brother. She is such a loving and compassionate person. She knows what she wants and how to get it. She's only 4! Imagine what she will be like as an adult. She will make a wonderful mother but she will also be a smart businesswoman. It makes me sad that my baby isn't so much a baby anymore. And it makes me sad that she has the personality of, well, me; sarcasm included! But she is a good girl. She is kind and sweet and generous and she impresses me everyday. And she is all mine. I am so lucky!

And if all I get to do is watch from the sidelines then so be it. That will give me more time to brag about MY baby girl.

 

My Sweet Petunia

Kindergarten

I'm one of "those moms." I take 4,000 pictures of my kids whether there is an accomplishment involved or not (although, there is even more pictures if there is). Kindergarten, to me, is one of those accomplishments. It is a right of passage one takes in order to be considered a kid instead of a toddler. But be warned though; you can never go back.

 

I remember my first day of kindergarten. I had never been in school and I could not fathom why my mother would send me away for 6 hours a day (while juggling a work-from-home-job, other siblings and chores; don't worry mom, I get it now!) I remember being scared, kind of excited but mostly just counting down the time until I could go home. As an adult, I realize now why I went but most importantly, what my mother must have been going through on that dreadful first day.

Then I multiplied that feeling by, oh, say, 5 million and that's what I went through today as my first born walked into his kindergarten class.

I feel that as a mother of a child who has special needs, all my emotions are felt tenfold. With the kindergarten meeting not going well a few months ago, the anxiety I felt was warranted.

 

Would he cry?

Would he be upset after I leave?

Would he get the love and attention he needs?

Would he lash out at the teacher or his friends?

Will he not understand what is going on and wonder where I am all day?

 

Among the normal feelings during this transition, I felt guilt. This is the part about being a mother that nobody tells you about. He's been in preschool with me his whole life. I've never been more than a few doors down. If he needed me, I came running. Even a few months ago we switched pre-k from my school to his current school but that didn't bother me.

 

Today, the lesson I learned was why you never hear people tell stories of those bad memories. It's because everything works out in the end. So that all you're left with is the memories of how well it all turned out.

Ready for his first day of school

My son has anxiety when it comes to people and places he is not familiar with. There was a TON of people at the school during drop off time which usually only agitates him more. But he took it like a champ! He walked into his class, sat down at his desk and got to work. I was so proud of him that the word 'proud' doesn't even do justice to what I was feeling. It was an answered prayer (yes, literally!). The best part, the part that will stay with me forever was when I told him it was time for mommy and daddy to leave, he smiled real big at me and said, "Bye, mommy!"

My big boy.
That was the moment I lost all hope of keeping it together. My eyes instantly filled with tears. I would never forgive myself if I hindered his already amazing progress with my emotional outburst so I immediately hugged and kissed him like he was going off to war and fled the room like it was on fire.
My baby was in kindergarten.

We get out the door and I just let it all out. My husband asks me if I'm ok (as I'm pretty sure I am scaring him). And I shouted "NO!"

I wasn't OK. But my son is.

That's all that matters. I will gladly worry about him so that he won't have to.

Which is precisely what I did all day.

 

As I waited for him to get off the bus, that small moment of panic popped up again.

 

What if he had a horrible day?

What if he hates it there?

What if he's being crying all day for me?

What if...

...What if he had a great day and I didn't need to worry?

 

So, what if I'm that mom? Big deal that I take a thousand pictures of one single event. I will forever have those memories. I will forever be able to look back on all that my son has accomplished. I will be able to share those special moments...

 

because everything worked out in the end :)

 

Me and my kindergartener

 

Oh, The Places He'll Go

Not long after my son, Ethan, was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, we started hearing a lot about the struggles he would have growing up. There was even a doctor (I use that term loosely) who told me that Ethan's behaviors were so bad, he would struggle through Kindergarten, if he would make it through at all.

Quickly following news of all his limitations we noticed that people; fellow parents, children, people without children (my personal favorite), became quick to judge. They each look at him differently. Expressions range from pity to curiosity to dislike. People look at us as parents and judge us, too. They don't take the time to look at the struggle we are persevering through as a family.

 

This morning the director at Ethan's preschool pulled me aside and asked me why my son was attending his preschool graduation. Normally, he goes to public school in the ESE program during the morning then goes to the preschool in the afternoons. But he has attended this preschool since birth and I felt like he and I have earned this special right of passage and therefore should be in attendance. She said that he doesn't really go to school here so she assumed he wasn't coming. (And I think we all know what happens when we assume..) I told her that he was a student enrolled in the preschool like everyone else and I assumed he would attend. She told me I should have asked her first. I said no and again explained that he was enrolled at the school like everyone else and should get to attend. What she failed to realize, what I can see very clearly, is that she somehow made this about her and it's not. It's about Ethan. It is about how far he has come in the last few years. From screaming and crying while throwing fits on the floor to using his words and reaching those goals that people assumed he wouldn't reach. His hard work, nearly 14 months of Occupational Therapy to get him ready for Kindergarten, and now he finally has something to show for it. And she tried to take that away from him all because she is embarrassed by his behavior. The fidgeting, pacing, teeth grinding, talking out of turn doesn't fit into her perfect little world. I feel sorry for her. All those things are part of what makes Ethan the wonderful, caring and fun little boy that he was made to be and she's missing it. People are missing opportunities to get to know someone so wonderful simply because they don't understand him. It is truly saddening that there are people in this world that will never privilege themselves with a chance to know a kid like Ethan. 

 

Then while Ethan attended his Kindergarten Orientation, I watched the uneasiness settle in and felt the worry creep into my bones. When they called all the students to go to the classrooms with the teachers, the anxiety started, as it usually does. With tears shimmering in his worried, blue eyes he whispered a simple plea, "Mommy, come with me" and it broke my heart in two. Ethan was the only kid in the group who was crying.
I watched him cry as he was asked to walk away from us and go with someone he has never seen before to a place he has never been. It was then that I noticed people staring, judging. I sat worrying what this new chapter in his life will bring. Will he regress? Will he hate me for making him do this? (I felt my own tears forming in my eyes..) Can he do this? Will he make it without me? (I felt my throat start to burn with unshed tears..) 
 

A half hour later, we went to pick Ethan up from his Kindergarten class. He was sitting in a group, still upset but relatively quiet, not screaming or throwing a fit with a Special Ed teacher sitting close by talking him down when he got anxious. No, he wasn't adjusted like the other kids but he was adjusting. At his own pace, sure, but he was doing it. And I couldn't have been prouder! It was then that I realized that my son is "Special Needs." Ever since his diagnosis, I have struggled with him fitting in like a typical child. But that's not who he is. And today I realized that I don't want him to be like that either. He needs an extra hug, or an extra moment to calm down. He needs help staying focused and he's going to need help until he can help himself. And it's OK that he has those 'special needs.' It is people like the Special Ed lady who helped him today, help moms like me realize that yes, he is always going to be a little different but never, NEVER less than anyone else. And no one can make him or us feel that way unless we let them. He can do this! He will make it through this like all the other challenges before. He will never cease to amaze me.

As a parent to a child with special needs, you can't help but worry. For me, I know Ethan's potential, his strengths and weaknesses, what he needs help with, what he pretends to need help with. But most importantly, I know what he is capable of and as much as I do worry, I know he will persevere. He is so strong and courageous; a true fighter. What this lesson has taught me is to let him be brave and fight his own battles. He can do or be anything he wants. But through it all, I will make sure he knows that mommy will always be right beside him, ready to fight, laugh or cry right along with him.

No matter what.

My Little Graduate



Why I Think Superman Has Autism

Just hear me out.

I'm sure you are all familiar with this superhero. Whether you've read the comics, seen the movies, have the action figure or play the video games, you know who I'm talking about.

Autism awareness, unfortunately, is not nearly as prominent. According to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, Autism is defined as "a developmental disorder that is characterized by impairment of the ability to form normal social relationships..and by stereotyped behavior patterns."

Symptoms of autism are different for each individual. However, there are some symptoms that can be very common such as sensitivity to light, sound or touch and repetitive behaviors.

Have you ever noticed that our Caped-Crusader can hear EVERYTHING? Even the slightest whisper can catch his attention or distract him from his current task.
And don't even let him near Kryptonite. Even being around that stuff will cause him to freak out. In fact, he won't even touch it because he knows it will cause a tantrum.
Also, can't we all agree he is the King of repetitive behavior? Find someone in trouble, fight bad-guys, save someone in trouble. Over and over and over again he will do this and never seems to tire of it. (Sure, he varies it a little but I think that's more for our benefit than his.) Let's face it, he parades around in a costume all day and doesn't feel any different for it. If that isn't someone who colors their own world than I don't know what is!
My 4 year old son, Ethan, has autism and I've noticed some things about him, too.
He is so kind-hearted and always knows right from wrong. When he can, he will always help those in trouble. He is smart and courageous. Oh, and on more than one occasion, I have even caught him wearing a cape. Is this starting to sound like anyone you know?


He told me "I have to go help people!"



Now, I'm not saying that Superman definitely has autism. It's just a theory. I'm also not saying Ethan is a superhero. But to me, he is. 

What I am saying, is that no one has ever seen both of them in the same room together...