This blog is for me. I need an outlet to share what is going on in my life. I need to be able to verbalize, celebrate, even complain about what it means and how it feels to be a mother to a child with Autism.
I need a forum that does not judge me about how I choose to parent my son. In my head, I am patient, guiding and always have the energy to play with my active 8 year old. And I'm young! Really young, and beautiful. In reality, I am old, tired, stressed out and sleepy. I mean, I need a nap now.
In the past, I wrote about it on Facebook. My friends would comment and encourage me. They told me what an awesome job I was doing, even if they didn't mean it. That's what your village is for. It also helps that I have friends with children on the spectrum, they get it better than others. But I have stories to tell and things to say and I have decided that this is the place to do it.
So without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to my love, Ziggy.
Ziggy is my 8 year old. He is the youngest in the family and comes from a long line of people who love hard, live hard and play hard. He is a large part of my world. The reason why it is difficult to sleep at night and the reason I get up at the ass crack of dawn. He is the reason why I exercise, eat right and (for the most part) quit smoking. Although cigarettes are great and they have always been good to me. He is also the reason, I am always late where ever I go. I try to trick myself, I have an appointment at 9 AM, in my schedule I will put 845 AM. Hoping to God that I get there at least 5 minutes after.
My intentions are always good the night before. I get everything ready. I iron our clothes, give us baths, set out the implements of torture, aka, the brush. I do every thing but sleep in my clothes with a toothbrush in my mouth. Still, I am late. Why you ask? Because no matter what time we have to be there, right before I walk out the door, Ziggy says, "Mom, I gotta poop." Its bad enough in the summer, when all he has to do is go, sit, poop. In the winter, he has to take off his coat, hat, gloves. He also likes to poop naked. With his iPad, while watching Netflix. This also means, I have to take off my coat, hat gloves etc. Because, I am old, and prone to get hot for no good damn reason. Plus, since I don't trust his wiping skills, I have to go in and make sure all is well. With flushable wipes. Then, he has to wash his hands, pump out 10 pumps of soap, wet his sleeves up to the elbow, (he keeps his shirt on) and then dries his hands, slowly. Now I have to change his shirt. I find a shirt, iron it, ( I don't want to be judged by his wrinkled shirt) and gently prompt him (loudly sometimes) to redress. Now we are really late, I have to drive 10 miles above any posted speed limit to get to our appointment and pray they don't cancel it.
Now lets add another layer. We have four dogs. Why? I don't know, but we do. They also need to poop, but since they dig under the fence, they can't stay outside. So, do I ignore them and hope to God they poop on something hard and not my carpet? Do I let them out and pray I get back before they get past the fence? That decision is made at the last minute.
One day, I will make it on time. To school, to work, to church, to the doctors office, to my funeral, somewhere. But if you make an appointment with me, and I'm not there on time, Ziggy had to poop. Be patient, because I am already stressed out.
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