Counting the Blessings

I wrote a guest piece on a friend's blog counting my blessings that my 4-year-old twin boys have autism, because even with all of its challenges and demands, especially because of those things, I suppose, I've had to become a better person. I've had to adapt. I've had to learn a whole new way of doing things and thinking about things.

I wrote another piece on a brand new site, because All We Need is Love.

I've obviously been reflecting lately. Reflecting on the gains and losses of a life with autism. I've been thinking about the things we could have had, if only. I've been pondering the what ifs, but more than that I've been contemplating what's to come.

My boys have a bright future, regardless of their autism, their limitations, their differences. They have limitless potential, there are endless possibilities and directions in which they could take themselves. They'll need help along the way, of course, but that's my job as a mother, and I'm blessed to be capable of giving them help.

I don't like to think they can't do something because they're autistic - and yet I phrase it that way sometimes. Often I phrase it as they won't - as in they're refusing, they're stubborn and obstinate. That's not always the case, though. They may, with help, time, patience, and most of all love.

I'm hoping with time that will become my initial thought - that rather than saying they can't, or they won't - one day it will naturally occur to me to leave that open - they might, they could, they don't yet - that yet is always tacked on in my mind, in the conversation that is playing out days, weeks before someone else brings it up, before anyone else has to ask.

Growing up, even up to the day I found out I was pregnant, I was adamant that I never wanted children. I had nightmares that I'd have a baby and be the world's most horrid mother, forgetting to feed the thing and losing it. Turns out, my kids would never let forgetting to feed them fly. They're like clockwork, and they're banshees when they're hungry - I have no idea where that may have come from, I'm not a total crank when I'm hungry or anything...it definitely wasn't me who stabbed Pricklypants in the hand when he went for a bite of my food (days before we found out I was pregnant...I'd blame the hormones, but no.)

I'm no longer paranoid at the prospect of losing them in a crowded place - I don't take my eyes off of them for a second if we're anywhere other than home or a select few other locations where I'm comfortable enough with our surroundings to breathe a little, and sit down.

That's probably the reason I've lost 34 pounds in the last year - if we go somewhere, I'm constantly trailing behind one or both of the boys in true helicopter mom fashion, but it's totally necessary - other autism parents get where I'm coming from on that front, I'm sure. But if the boys weren't autistic, if they weren't constantly on the move, trying to figure out how things work (my little engineers) or how they taste, I probably wouldn't have lost that weight, because I didn't really change much else, except to add quite a few walks throughout the summer months.

Because my boys are who they are, because they're quick to forgive, because they're quick to love, because they're  nearly always able to make me smile, even if I was livid five seconds ago because someone smeared poo on the wall, or bit his brother, or scratched/pinched/hit/bit me again - because Gamble and Gage are Gamble and Gage, being a mother isn't nearly as hard as my nightmares pre-parenthood made me believe. I'm blessed.

And I don't always agree with the adage that "God never gives more than you can handle," because some days I'm not sure I can handle this. Some days, I'm at a loss. But for the most part, I know I can do this because I love my boys fiercely, and that's a blessing in my book, because I never knew I was capable of this kind of love. 

I'm blessed that even with all of the stress, the annoyances, the aggression, we're able to sit down as a family, laughing and loving each other the way we understand how to, for now. It's a blessing that we're able to learn as we go, that our boys can give us the time that we need, because they need just as much, if not more, to figure it out, too.

As a parent, I worry so often that I'm going to screw it all up. But at the end of the day my boys are happy and healthy, they love me unconditionally and I love them more than life itself, and so long as they don't think I'm screwing it up, so long as they can forgive me, that's a win.

It doesn't take much for me to remember that other people's opinions don't affect us in any real way, because even though I want feedback, I want suggestions - I want them on my own terms, without judgment. I don't need to hear "Oh, you're such a great mom, you're doing such a great job!" all the time, because I know that's not 100 percent true. We're doing what we can, what we know how to do - we're learning, day-by-day, minute-by-minute - just like any other set of parents. I don't mind being given constructive criticism, so long as it isn't posed as judgment.

Yes, we have additional challenges - that mostly just means that what worked for your neurotypical kid, like that potty-train-him-in-a-week thing, probably isn't going to work for our very-differently-wired boys.

Their difference, their extraordinary uniqueness, that's a blessing, too. Because I know my boys are different, it's much easier for me to receive advice and not feel obligated to follow it, it allows me to wage whether it truly would benefit us or not, and to know our family well enough to know what works and what doesn't - that's a blessing.

Ms. M said something when she was here last week, about how great it is that we know what works for the boys, and that I'm able to communicate that to others, to express ideas of ways to help the boys' teachers and therapists get through to them a little easier. It's funny, because I usually feel like I have no idea what's going on...but when it comes down to it, I guess I do have a grip on things, even though it is organized chaos.

And while I'm counting blessings, I'd like to say just how blessed we are to have the people in our lives who are present; because while I'd love to have more of them, it's quality, not quantity, that really matters. And we're blessed to have not only the people that we have here, in our little hometown in Ohio, but the community we've found online, other parents who have children who are differently wired, who can give advice without judgment because they know the battles, they know the defeats and the triumphs, they understand what goes into parenting a child with severe needs, a child who can't communicate his or her basic needs, let alone their wants or hopes and dreams.

Finding the online autism community, other parents who have basically been there, done that (because again, no two kids are the same - the twins are a perfect example of the idea that what works for one child may not work for the next) and have the scars and broken furniture to prove it, that's been immeasurably helpful and has given me a greater level of support than even the support group friends and I started here in our county for parents and loved ones of those on the spectrum.

Right now, I'm blessed that everyone else in my house is sleeping, and I know I should also get to sleep, because who knows how early the boys will wake up having gone to bed before midnight...but the quiet is nice for writing, even if there are still two TVs going and the furnace is working overtime trying to combat the bitter cold temperatures - there's no vocal stimming from the twins, no demands from Pricklypants, and once I finish up this post, I'll make the rounds and turn off the TVs, kiss foreheads and tuck my boys in tight for the night, and once again, I'll count my blessings, just like I try to do every night before I go to sleep - when I can turn off the what ifs, the what did I forget to do today, the never-ending to-do list running through my brain, long enough to just stop and enjoy being able to count my blessings, to have blessings that I can count, to reflect on how lucky I really am, even with the day-to-day challenges, the near-constant chaos and what seems to be an endless well of setbacks.

At the end of the day, I have loved and I have been loved, regardless of whether the dishes got done, or the muffins got baked. I'm blessed because I am loved, and because I love, and blessed that my ineptitude's do not condemn me. My mistakes, my failures - the things that have happened in the past - they do not define me, and for that, I am blessed.