Sometimes, I look back at the fun things I did as a kid and realize, “Holy crap. My son has probably never done that!” And I have a moment of disbelief, thinking, “This has nothing to do with autism, and … Continue reading
Every family with autism has a “story” — not really about them, but about how they came to know about autism, and the battles they have fought, sometimes with insurance companies, sometimes with money, and always with their own emotions. … Continue reading
I have always had the intention of being a working woman, and I have always had the intention of being a mother, so I guess I have always had the intention of being a working mom. I sincerely don’t understand … Continue reading
I’m okay, you’re… well, maybe not (Photo credit: pdxjmorris)
Therapists are big on forgiveness, aren’t they? The books I read post-divorce include forgiveness as a necessary step to healing. In my own case, it’s been hard.
I had so much anger before, during, and after the divorce. I placed all of the blame on the ex’s shoulders. I had so many stories to tell, and people listening would shake their heads, amazed that I had put up with it for so long. The day after my divorce was final, I remember sharing the news at work, and having others look at me funny because I wasn’t supposed to be so happy.
I reveled in my singlemomdom. There was so much freedom. Take a weekend trip with The Boy? Why, I could, couldn’t I? Buy a duvet cover with flowers on it? Yes, please. Fall asleep in a quiet house? Heaven. I also reveled in my anger and my indignation. The ex was clearly the spawn of Satan, and I had been a saint to last as long as I had.
As time passed, and upon more reflection, I began to realize my part in the downfall of our marriage. I realized that I had stopped communicating, that I had belittled him, that I had not been strong enough to fight him more on the big issues. And that maybe he wasn’t the spawn of Satan. Maybe.
Four years later, I am to the lovely point at which I am mostly indifferent. The thought of this person that I was married to for ten years rarely even crosses my mind, if at all. If it does, the thought is apathetic, with no real malice or anger. He can live his life as he pleases, and it has nothing to do with me.
Except when it does. When our little link is affected. When his actions hurt our little boy, I get angry, I blame, I shake with emotion. And this is why I am not, and don’t think I will ever be to the point of forgiveness. Lots of moms have this fierce emotion, this snarling-mama-bear-oh-no-you-di’nt reaction, that I think is even ferocious in those of us with kids with special needs. Because in many cases, our kids can’t express or process their emotions as well as the rest of us. Because our kids already go through enough. Because we go through enough. ENOUGH.
I can forgive strangers, because you can dismiss strangers as not knowing any better, being ignorant, or hateful, or stupid. But the ex is not a stranger, and he cannot be written off as ignorant.
It’s really hard to forgive someone who should be protecting his son as fiercely as I am.
And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do it.
And I’m OK with that.
I’ll be honest, I skipped the big gym-speech, where parents are packed in like sardines, it’s hot, they talk about the same things every year, introduce the staff, and you can’t hear anything anyway because of all the people who … Continue reading
The Boy and I have created a tradition called Fun Friday. It was born out of some evening scheduling problems we had which basically boiled down to The Boy thinking I could drive him all over God’s Green Earth to … Continue reading
I was gonna reign it in a bit. I was gonna stop posting every day for fear of running out of (important) things to say. But then I realized I have a lot to say, and I like writing. So … Continue reading
I’ve put it off for long enough. The Boy’s first ASD teacher died earlier this month, and for lots of reasons, I chose to wait a bit to break it to him. I was extremely upset, as it was definitely … Continue reading
English: A Glass of Tea. Français : Une tasse de thé en verre. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
In a recent post, I lamented that I had not pre-planned how I should spend my time when The Boy was camping with Fantastic Babysitter. So I’ve been thinking about some ways I could spend a free hour…
What would you do if you had a free hour to yourself?
Red phone (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The ex and I divorced 4 years ago, and in that time, The Boy has been on the receiving end of many empty and broken promises. These range from “I’ll call you on Thursday,” (empty) to “I’m not going to be picking him up for his week with me,” (broken). As you can imagine, this would devastate any kid, but to a kid with autism, who is reliant on schedules, timers, and routine, it can be catastrophic.
This was actually a common theme before the divorce, so I am used to it, but The Boy was 6 when we divorced, and has learned only by experiencing it so often over the past four years. He still enjoys talking to his dad, and still enjoys visits to his dad’s when they occur, but the empty promises wreak much less havoc now. There are still tears, and “Why isn’t he coming to pick me up?” but he now knows his dad has a tendency to break promises, and he’s starting to understand that it’s something we can’t do anything about.
The only thing I can do is to make sure I don’t break my promises to The Boy. It’s very important to me that he knows he can rely on me, and he does because I’m consistent. There are times I know he thinks I’m the meanest mom in the world, but he knows I love him, I will never leave him, and he can always count on me.
Simple. I Just Do. 