spectrumom

I was thinking tonight about what kind of parent/grandparent I want to be to my children when they are adults. I thought: -I'll be there to babysit -I'll ask them what they need instead of assuming -I'll learn about what their kids need and like -I'll take them for weekends so my kids can rest. There was a lot more. And I realized that was all reactionary - those are the things I wish our parents would do for us, because of our special needs.  I have no idea of what my kids will need.  I don't want to parent in reaction, because it leads to filling needs that aren't there.  And missing other needs that are there. How will I balance the needs of my kids? First, I will ask.  What do you need most?   Second, I will remember time is the most important thing you can give.  Someday I will be too old and infirm, and eventually too dead, to be useful.  The most important time is now.  Give generously of time, because it means so much when you are actuall

This is not a post about parents bullying kids, although there are certainly some who do. This is about parents bullying each other, specifically online. This is about replying to someone's comment, tweet, post, blog, whatever and being a absolute ass.  Actual statements to me online in the past few days.  "You must be a terrible parent if you feel that way." "Only a horrible person would say that about their child." "Using XYZ therapy is child abuse." "I have seen XYZ therapy and it was cruel." "You must hate your children if you don't like the Holland poem." Usually from people who have no idea who the hell I am. It is very intimidating to put myself out there, even in the limited way that I have, because:    1.  I don't like conflict in any form.    2.  I don't like to be criticized.    3.  I already have tons of self-doubts.    4.  I already criticize myself enough, tyvm.    5.  Criticism on

I had someone tell me on a Facebook forum that I'm not accepting of my child's disability because I really hate the Holland poem.  When I said that having a child with a disability is not always just like going to some equally nice, if less exciting, place.  That sometimes it's more like going to a war zone.  I didn't want to be a bad person who said "Fuck YOU to hell and back.  Well, not back." because I knew the moderators have had enough on their hands.  But I really wanted to.  I love my kid.  And I don't mind autism up to a point.  But when it hurts my kid.  When we are so isolated by his disability.  When there is no one to help us.  When I beat myself up over and over because I steal a little time for myself at the expense of my husband because no one else is there to do it.  Yeah, it does suck sometimes.  And it's not my kid's fault.  I know he doesn't like being how he is at his worst.  It can't feel good by any stretch of the imag

My baby boy is almost 16 years old.  In another life he would be getting his driver's permit.  He'd have a girlfriend and I'd be reminding him to take condoms everywhere he went (not that he'd necessarily have sex, but I believe in wearing seatbelts and carrying condoms.  Just in case.)  And he'd be on the honor roll.  Except he already is.  Has been every quarter for the last year and half.  And he has a girlfriend.  Not that they go anywhere together.  But she kissed him.  Which is more than I had before...18. He's not ready for a driver's permit.  That's the fact, Jack. And we discussed condoms.  And I'm pleased to say he blushed.  But he got the message.  And we talked about consent.  And how even one 'No' stops the action.  From either side. How I'd like to go back to that day when we cried the whole three hour drive home from the developmental specialist's.  My former teacher.  Who told us how he fit the criteria for