If You Don't Have One, You Don't Get It

A child with autism, that is. Which would be the main reason (in case anyone in blog-world was wondering) I've seemingly fallen off the map.

Now, I have all the sympathy and empathy in the world for parents who struggle with other special needs kids (Down's, physical handicaps, etc.) But there is something unique in the challenge of trying to raise a child who looks (and 90% of the time ACTS) completely normal. Except that 10% of the time his differently wired brain jumps its tracks in weird tangents, leaving his parents (usually me) to deal with a situation no parenting book has ever addressed.

And now I have two. Well, maybe. Connor (my littlest one) has been in the same special preschool program his big brother was in to address a speech delay. We thought he only had a speech delay. Now the battery of (not exactly illuminating) tests the school has administered indicate "problems" we were not anticipating. Really, the main Problem is that Connor doesn't respond to verbal questions verbally. And he is very, VERY stubborn. So again (like it was with Chris) is the issue CAN'T or WON'T.

At home, my little one chatters like a magpie all day long. Does he "tell stories" like his sister did? No - picture him more like an author "narrating" his day. He's a very logical kid, like his big brother. And really, is a child who is capable of going to the kitchen utility drawer, finding a screwdriver, and then opening up his toy to replace the batteries (if I allowed him to) really mentally challenged? Really? The one who, when Mommy couldn't find all the letters to the alphabet puzzle instead MADE HIS OWN LETTERS OUT OF PLAY-DOH in the puzzle's spaces. Mentally challenged, eh? How about - bored? How about - has his own very strong personal agenda? He is a Leo, after all (NOT, that I believe that stuff, but sometimes you have to wonder....).

Evidently, he speaks so seldom at school that one of the testers hadn't ever heard his voice, until she brought out a puzzle with a helicopter (his favorite thing besides letters). And he said to her, "It's a helicopter!" Do I have any idea why he won't talk at school? No, I do not. Do I have any idea why he brings all his learning home so that he communicates with US much better now but still won't talk at school? No, I do not.

Trying to explain to someone what it's like trying to run a household consisting of one autistic child, one "normal" child, and one "unidentified-special-needs" child, topped off with two egghead absentminded-professor type parents defies description. I call the kids my "three ring circus" because that's what it's like most of the time in our house.

I'm sure lots of teachers, administrators, doctors, dentists, pastors, family, etc. wonder why it seems we're always just-on-time or a little bit late to everything. What they fail to understand is how often we're lucky to have managed to BE there at all. How often some crisis or other threatens to derail our efforts entirely. How attending a "family function" like a family church service or kid's concert involves more juggling than a clown and more skill than trying to herd cats. And afterward more exhaustion than having run a marathon.

So I have gone into hiding, of a sort. I've stepped waaaay back from all other obligations except family. Even church. At this point in my life, NOTHING takes priority over my family. (And my sanity.) I really think God will understand, even if the folks at church wonder why we keep disappearing. Right now, these kids of mine ARE my God-given mission.

I can no longer attempt to be Super-Mom or Super-Christian. I can only be me. Still figuring out who she is...