I’m trying but I’m tired…

I’m laying next to you in my big bed. You have a cold and you’re sniffling, you’re watching paw patrol for the millionth time on your kindle and dozing off. We just wrestled while I had to hold you down to give you medicine, you cried and spit it all up and I feel like a mean mom. I hate seeing you upset but while you’re the non verbal one, I wish you could read my mind like I can read yours.

I wish you knew the daily thoughts I have about your future, that everything I say and do is for you. I always wonder if I’ll be a soccer mom one day, if you’ll be singing in a Christmas concert at school like my friends kids are. I think further down the road, if you’ll go on to go to college or have a career, if you’ll live on your own, if you’ll meet someone special someday and create a family. I wonder how being a single mom will influence you and how you grow up, I worry it will hurt you somehow. I try so hard to be both roles for you but I’m only one person. My minds tired, Brody.

I wish sometimes you can could see how much of my mind you consume but glad you don’t see the other part of my mind. This year has brought some internal battles for me, I’ve had to be out of my comfort zone a lot. I’ve had to fake being strong for you and force a smile, I’ve hidden when I cried. I’m trying to heal my heart while being there for you, trying to see not just your future but mine. No one teaches you how to parent when you’re feeling broken, I just wake up and try each morning and chip away at it. You’re not a burden but my biggest blessing, Brody. You’re my consistent when most other things aren’t.

My body’s tired Brody. I pick up millions of crayons a day, Reese’s wrappers are shredded all over the house. My hands are sore from filling out your paperwork, my eyes are strained from emailing and constant researching on my tiny phone. I swear my left eye is going to twitch until the day I die, the bags under my eyes are getting darker every day. My body runs on coffee and creamer, I get sleep thanks to melatonin now. You’re 42 lbs and can’t walk far, I’m always carrying you on my hip, having to use both arms to support you. My body aches and cracks like I’ve never heard before and I feel older then I am. Potty training is the bane of my existence, the laundry I’ve been doing is solely supporting the power company. I drive you to doctors appointments, soon school and therapy, swim lessons, the store for bubbles and crayons. My body doesn’t stop but when it does, it still feels like it’s moving. If it’s not moving a million miles a minute, my mind is. All of this but I still bring you to see Santa and goats at the farm. We go to the beach and watch sunsets, I take photos of you even though I’ll never forget those memories. We swing at the playground while kids say you’re too big for the “baby swings”, they don’t know you can’t support yourself on the big swings. You spin in circles in front of the playground while the other kids play around you. They try to ask your name and get upset and ask me why you don’t talk. I tell them you don’t know how yet, “We are learning” I tell them. This makes my heart hurt too.

My heart hurts because others don’t understand you, and it hurts more because I don’t either. I see you slip into Autism land, which may seem awful to some but you’d know what I meant if you saw what I did. A little boy in a pile of blankets and pillows he has stripped off the beds, all on top of him with his head poking out. His eyes are open but no ones home, it’s like Brody’s left and watching him is difficult because his disability kind of reaches out and slaps me. I’m then faced with the fact I don’t know so much about my son, even doctors and therapists don’t. Guilt doesn’t creep in often but when it does it’s consuming. I always wonder if I did something wrong, if it’s my fault you have autism. It’s times like that I can actually feel my heart hurting, the worst pain of all.

I am tired Brody, and I’m sure deep down you know. You are so smart it stops me in my tracks sometimes, you know and understand way more then any of us realize. If you see that I hope you know that it won’t always be like this. Some of the things will get harder, some will get easier, some are just a phase we will work through together. Christmas and holidays seem to be extra hard on me, I try hard not to compare our situation to others. You aren’t writing a list to Santa, you don’t know what Christmas is, I don’t have extra money to buy you gifts this year. But you know what? This year you sat on Santa’s lap and you said his name while looking him in the eyes. You know how to unwrap gifts this year from amazing friends and family who love and care about you, who are your biggest fans and our amazing support system. You’ll go to sleep in your own awesome new bed, in your brand new room in our own condo. You’ll wake up to our cute tree that you helped me decorate and see the cookies Santa ate that you helped me decorate. All of these things I couldn’t say last year but I can today. And that, that’s enough to get me through because although a day in our life is more work then some, it’s worth it in the end. So here’s to a year of progress and another day of trying our hardest to be better. Every days goal is moving forward from where we were yesterday, no matter how small the step. Moms tired Brody, but I look forward to every day with you.

Change is the name of the game.

Being 27 years old you’d think I would be ok and somewhat comfortable with change. Change is one of the hardest things for me, still isn’t easier although I have accepted it’s inevidable. Autism forces you to deal with change every day and I see it is a forced life lesson but it’s something I’ve been needing to learn. I like a plan, what I’m in for and how things will go but autism swatted that away before I could blink. I have learned to roll with things now, to go with the flow and not panic. I’ve learned to adapt on a regular basis, hence the blog name, Adapting to Autism. 

Today Brody and I took a trip to Syracuse to the zoo there, about an hour away. Usually trips like this I don’t do alone because it can be overwhelming and I get flustered easily. Today, I didn’t really have an option so I sucked it up and just went with positivity and excitement to set the tone of the trip. I’m thankful that he slept the whole way down and I got to roll down the window and enjoy the nice weather with some music on. As soon as I parked that calm all came to a hault like the car… Someone didn’t nap long enough. I packed up the stroller and started in, turned to the first exhibit of monkeys and I was already sweating. A lot of the exhibits are inside, narrow halls and lots of glass and cave looking enclosures. Brody instantly had his hands over his ears when I walked under the “rock” entry way and started mani king, sliding up and out of his stroller and almost toppled the thing over. I could see and hear the sheer panic in his face, he was flailing and turning his head side to side running away from me. 

I panicked and ran outside with him, I saw a water fountain and was so relieved because water is his favorite. Not today. He did the same thing and was screaming and crying with wide, scared eyes. I’m already an overthinker and this specific scenario always sends me into overdrive. I was trying to think of anyway to relieve it, candy, a game on my phone, milk, his blues clues doll, singing, just anything at this point. All of that failed, I ended up jogging away to a quitter place that was going down a path and he took his hands down, although still annoyed but not having a melt down. There was a group of three adults and a kid in front of us, taking up the whole walkway so I couldn’t pass. I noticed the lady who appeared to be the grandmother in the group keep looking back and giving Brody “the look”, I’m sure you can imagine the one I mean. I’ve learned that I can’t say things to everyone who gives a dirty look to Brody, there’s not enough time in the day and I don’t want to ruin our time. That’s why I write this blog. Although that lady won’t see this post about what’s behind some of Brodys times of distress, maybe someone will experience the same thing and carry about without giving dirty looks. My mom told me to let negativity roll of my back like a duck so that’s what I did… Onward I went. 

We looked at elephants, my favorite. I made him pose with them in the stroller even though he didn’t care a thing about them. As we took off to the next exhibit, to my horror was a mister ahead. This mister sprays the WHOLE ENTIRE WALKWAY! While this is a great idea, for a kid with sensory issues it our worst nightmare. I had to run through and even at that he was back to wailing and panicking, gasping for air like he drowning even though to most it was just mist. Spraying is Brodys worst feeling by far, you should have seen how he felt. I was relieved once we were through and I saw the penguin exhibit ahead, he loves the otters so this was a guaranteed. I head  over and there’s a rock overhang to shade the guests and Brody slips back into sheer panic and I feel like calling it quits at this point. To summarize the rest of the time there, reread this post three times and that’s how it went. I briskly exited the zoo feeling defeated and bummed out, I really thought he would like it. I quickly circled around and felt better because I had tried to make him happy and there was no way to know it would be that awful for him and the day wasn’t over. Time to adapt. 

One thing my kid always loves is bouncing so off to the trampoline park we went. I knew I had saved the trip and it wasn’t a waste as soon as he stepped on the court. I swear he was floating from trampoline to trampoline, squealing with joy having the kids section to himself. After an hour of fun it was back home for us with some M&M’s as a cherry on top for my sweet boy. We got home and outside he went, playing in the sandbox, coloring with markers and swinging in the hammock like we do every night. Even as I wrote this my little buddy sat in the gazebo across from me, drawing spiders and snowmen, happy as can be. I’m proud of myself for adapting, keeping my composure and making lemonade out of what seemed to be a tough start to my day with him. He’s happily washing up in the tub now and singing blue clues to himself so I think he would agree if he could talk. 

So many little lessons in today post, for parents and those on the outside. I’m thankful for the day I had with him and the ongoing lessons having him in my life teaches me every day. Today threw me a few situations I had to Apply these new lessons towards and I am still here to tell the tale. We will both be sleeping well tonight!