Parenting thoughts (OMG this rambles)
There's times when I suddenly realize things about myself, my life. Times when the full impact of some part of me comes slamming home and I'm stunned, awed, and maybe a little intimidated by my own reality.
here's a snippet:
I'm a "special needs" parent. I have "special needs" kids. I also have neurotypical kids but that only gives me a better perspective, I think, on what it means to have "special needs" kids. My kids, my little shining beacons of life beyond my life have... difficulties. This means, that raising them has brought unique difficulties with it. Things that can't be foreseen, difficulties that you aren't really geared to deal with "naturally" because those difficulties aren't "natural"
Sometimes I am full face with this reality and it causes such complex emotions I don't know what to say. I feel like calling up some dear friend and exclaiming it, as if its a new concept, "Hey! I'm a special needs mom! My kids have made my parenting experience different!"
But of course that's rather silly because, well, you can't just call someone and blurt out a truth taht is as plain as the nose on your face and expect that they'll be in your same headspace well enough to know what you're really saying. Because what I'd really be saying is "holy shit! I can't believe I ended up having to go through all those situations that other parents only shudder to think about and yet I'm not some kind of amazing paragon of history-changer! I'm just a mom! This is MY LIFE! It didn't go the direction I assumed it would but its okay!"
I mean, you know when some freaky-awful thing happens and you read about it in the paper or someone tells you about "my friends cousin's sister..." and you get the outline of the freakyawful thing and you tsk-tsk or you weep a little or you cross yourself and thank gawd its not YOUR problem or whatever you do when you are vicariously flirting with danger through some anonymous person's life, you know when that happens? Above all else, you're glad its not you?
Well sometimes I'm rather surprised to realize that I *LIVE* one of those freakyawful things that happen to "other people".
Maybe its that I read too much about the anti-vaxers and their almost palpable terror of the dreaded Autism. Their knee-jerk recoil agains the notion that Autism just happens is sad and if I thought about it, really fucking insulting. Because despite everything I've been through with my boys, No wait, actually BECAUSE of everything I've been through with my boys, I know I have never ever wished they weren't born. I've never ever wished they were dead. Ever.
I know some special needs parents DO have those times. And I don't feel in any ways superior to those parents. Not at all. I have never felt that way but that doesn't mean I don't understand where that comes from. Because my (step) mother WAS that way. She did sometimes wish my brother wasn't born. She did sometimes hate him for what she went through. She did sometimes regret not getting an abortion.
But you know.... she STILL fought harder than anyone I've ever known to get him services. She STILL worked like a dog, finding his place in the world.
And she felt enormous crippling guilt for the times she had those moments of resentment and doubt and anger. She was wracked with pain either direction. I've seen it, I was there. I vowed I would never let myself go through all that. If I had a disabled child, I'd find my peace with it, somehow. I'd not allow anyone, ever, push me into a corner whereby I had no one to be angry at but my child.
Don't misunderstand; my mother NEVER hurt by brother. She never did anything but good by him. Above and beyond the call. But her emotions were so jumbled, so convoluted, so complex and so draining that I swore I would do whatever it took to make sure I never was put in taht same corner. I never forgot the root of the real problem. It wasn't my brother (and my mother knew that ultimately) it was this life, this society that was the one to be angry at. This society that placed obstacle after obstacle in front of her campaign to get him what he needed. Obstacle after obstacle and then piled on massive guilt and judgement because she wanted to be "rid" of him. At least that's how she saw it for a long time. She swallowed that lie and it took a very long time for her to come to the truth; that what she really wanted was to live the rest of her life knowing he was taken care of. That his existence was neither torturous for him nor for anyone else.
It took her years to come around to that place. Rejecting outside influence that told her she was a "bad mom" for what she did. The same influences that today try to say she's "irresponsible" for what she did. What did she do? She legally divorced him and forced the state to care for him. He's in a group home now, has been for a long time. SHe visits and takes him out every now and then but he has a decent life. She knows he has a life that makes him happy and that doesn't make her life miserable. Because there's no way she could have given him this life without making her and the rest of the family miserable.
I watched that whole circle happen. I vowed I would learn from it and not go through what she did. And I haven't. I have approached my special needs parenting from teh perspective that "this is my life, this is what I deserve and this is what my children deserve and anyone who thinks badly of me, well they can go fuck themselves"
I am no saint. I am no martyr. I am nothing special in that regard. I did what I had to do. Sometimes I did more and sometimes I did less. I am nowhere near the perfect special needs parent. But so far, I've enjoyed it as much as I possibly could and I've kept my anger and my resentment where I believe it belongs: on the world that makes special needs parenting so hard. But it still sometimes surprises me that I'm here. Because from the outside, from the perspective of a "normal" parent, I'm either "supermom" or I'm "bad mom". That kindof judgement is only because whoever looks at me like that, they can't wrap their minds around having to do what I have done. But I tell you, just as any other special needs parent would tell you, if it were you, if you had been faced with what I've faced, you'd do it all the same and you'd do it all different. Because as a parent, you do what you have to do and you do what you can and sometimes, every now and then, you get to do what you want to do. But there's always assholes blocking your path, whether they're anti-child jerks who think children should all be stuck in an attic until they're fuckable age, or they're "well-meaning" idiots with degrees who don't even have a child who think they've got the answer to every parenting issue. Sometimes it's just other parents who are too uncomfortable with the notion that "this could happen to you to" and so they must hide behind "well you must have done something wrong". I was angry during my pregnancy, I didn't take the right vitamins, I don't have a college degree, my chakras aren't aligned, I don't pray to jesus hard enough, I don't sleep with crystals under my pillow blah blah fuckity blah. There's a part of the world where people just can't let discomfort lie, because then they have to admit that some things don't work out in the end. There's a part of the world who would rather stand around being "helpful" with their hands over their eyes and their degrees up their asses and their wallets hidden away from us "thieves". But I reject that part of the world. I reject the ones who would do their damnedest to force ME to bear the burden of life's unfairness. I don't have time to try to make them feel better and really why should I?
Because that part of the world can go fuck itself. I got kids to raise.
here's a snippet:
I'm a "special needs" parent. I have "special needs" kids. I also have neurotypical kids but that only gives me a better perspective, I think, on what it means to have "special needs" kids. My kids, my little shining beacons of life beyond my life have... difficulties. This means, that raising them has brought unique difficulties with it. Things that can't be foreseen, difficulties that you aren't really geared to deal with "naturally" because those difficulties aren't "natural"
Sometimes I am full face with this reality and it causes such complex emotions I don't know what to say. I feel like calling up some dear friend and exclaiming it, as if its a new concept, "Hey! I'm a special needs mom! My kids have made my parenting experience different!"
But of course that's rather silly because, well, you can't just call someone and blurt out a truth taht is as plain as the nose on your face and expect that they'll be in your same headspace well enough to know what you're really saying. Because what I'd really be saying is "holy shit! I can't believe I ended up having to go through all those situations that other parents only shudder to think about and yet I'm not some kind of amazing paragon of history-changer! I'm just a mom! This is MY LIFE! It didn't go the direction I assumed it would but its okay!"
I mean, you know when some freaky-awful thing happens and you read about it in the paper or someone tells you about "my friends cousin's sister..." and you get the outline of the freakyawful thing and you tsk-tsk or you weep a little or you cross yourself and thank gawd its not YOUR problem or whatever you do when you are vicariously flirting with danger through some anonymous person's life, you know when that happens? Above all else, you're glad its not you?
Well sometimes I'm rather surprised to realize that I *LIVE* one of those freakyawful things that happen to "other people".
Maybe its that I read too much about the anti-vaxers and their almost palpable terror of the dreaded Autism. Their knee-jerk recoil agains the notion that Autism just happens is sad and if I thought about it, really fucking insulting. Because despite everything I've been through with my boys, No wait, actually BECAUSE of everything I've been through with my boys, I know I have never ever wished they weren't born. I've never ever wished they were dead. Ever.
I know some special needs parents DO have those times. And I don't feel in any ways superior to those parents. Not at all. I have never felt that way but that doesn't mean I don't understand where that comes from. Because my (step) mother WAS that way. She did sometimes wish my brother wasn't born. She did sometimes hate him for what she went through. She did sometimes regret not getting an abortion.
But you know.... she STILL fought harder than anyone I've ever known to get him services. She STILL worked like a dog, finding his place in the world.
And she felt enormous crippling guilt for the times she had those moments of resentment and doubt and anger. She was wracked with pain either direction. I've seen it, I was there. I vowed I would never let myself go through all that. If I had a disabled child, I'd find my peace with it, somehow. I'd not allow anyone, ever, push me into a corner whereby I had no one to be angry at but my child.
Don't misunderstand; my mother NEVER hurt by brother. She never did anything but good by him. Above and beyond the call. But her emotions were so jumbled, so convoluted, so complex and so draining that I swore I would do whatever it took to make sure I never was put in taht same corner. I never forgot the root of the real problem. It wasn't my brother (and my mother knew that ultimately) it was this life, this society that was the one to be angry at. This society that placed obstacle after obstacle in front of her campaign to get him what he needed. Obstacle after obstacle and then piled on massive guilt and judgement because she wanted to be "rid" of him. At least that's how she saw it for a long time. She swallowed that lie and it took a very long time for her to come to the truth; that what she really wanted was to live the rest of her life knowing he was taken care of. That his existence was neither torturous for him nor for anyone else.
It took her years to come around to that place. Rejecting outside influence that told her she was a "bad mom" for what she did. The same influences that today try to say she's "irresponsible" for what she did. What did she do? She legally divorced him and forced the state to care for him. He's in a group home now, has been for a long time. SHe visits and takes him out every now and then but he has a decent life. She knows he has a life that makes him happy and that doesn't make her life miserable. Because there's no way she could have given him this life without making her and the rest of the family miserable.
I watched that whole circle happen. I vowed I would learn from it and not go through what she did. And I haven't. I have approached my special needs parenting from teh perspective that "this is my life, this is what I deserve and this is what my children deserve and anyone who thinks badly of me, well they can go fuck themselves"
I am no saint. I am no martyr. I am nothing special in that regard. I did what I had to do. Sometimes I did more and sometimes I did less. I am nowhere near the perfect special needs parent. But so far, I've enjoyed it as much as I possibly could and I've kept my anger and my resentment where I believe it belongs: on the world that makes special needs parenting so hard. But it still sometimes surprises me that I'm here. Because from the outside, from the perspective of a "normal" parent, I'm either "supermom" or I'm "bad mom". That kindof judgement is only because whoever looks at me like that, they can't wrap their minds around having to do what I have done. But I tell you, just as any other special needs parent would tell you, if it were you, if you had been faced with what I've faced, you'd do it all the same and you'd do it all different. Because as a parent, you do what you have to do and you do what you can and sometimes, every now and then, you get to do what you want to do. But there's always assholes blocking your path, whether they're anti-child jerks who think children should all be stuck in an attic until they're fuckable age, or they're "well-meaning" idiots with degrees who don't even have a child who think they've got the answer to every parenting issue. Sometimes it's just other parents who are too uncomfortable with the notion that "this could happen to you to" and so they must hide behind "well you must have done something wrong". I was angry during my pregnancy, I didn't take the right vitamins, I don't have a college degree, my chakras aren't aligned, I don't pray to jesus hard enough, I don't sleep with crystals under my pillow blah blah fuckity blah. There's a part of the world where people just can't let discomfort lie, because then they have to admit that some things don't work out in the end. There's a part of the world who would rather stand around being "helpful" with their hands over their eyes and their degrees up their asses and their wallets hidden away from us "thieves". But I reject that part of the world. I reject the ones who would do their damnedest to force ME to bear the burden of life's unfairness. I don't have time to try to make them feel better and really why should I?
Because that part of the world can go fuck itself. I got kids to raise.