The pressure to be "thankful" on Thanksgiving

Normally, I do try to see the silver lining in most situations.  You know, when you say "At least it's not _____", fill in the blank.    I know I am supposed to be thankful that my children are healthy, that both my husband and I are working, we have our home, our family, and our wonderful neighbors.  And I AM thankful for those things.  But on this Thanksgiving day, the pressure to be thankful is killing me.

I don't feel like being thankful.  I am pissed.  Ticked off.  You name it.  I am tired of living with special needs. I want a break. I want someone to take this weight off my shoulders. Please. And what kills me is the knowledge that no one can take this weight. It is mine alone to carry. Forever.  

So this is my kiss off to the pressure of how I "should" feel.  And the acceptance of how I do feel. If you see me and my scowl today, don't even THINK about asking me what I am thankful for.  Ask me that tomorrow, when I am sure I will be feeling better and have a list a mile long.

My boy and his "posse"

I have always hoped for friends for Connor.  Just like all parents hope their children will find friendship.  But unlike other parents, I always feared it would never happen.  Or if it did happen, it would be setup by me - a kind of "fake" friendship.  And then, miracles of all miracles, I witnessed my boy and his "posse".  

Last night we went to Frankie's 4th grade music show.  We got settled on the bleachers when an adorable 1st grade girl came excitedly over to Connor and sat with him.  He was happy to see her!  Then an awesome 2nd grade boy said hi to Connor and sat with him too.  And then, a darling girl from his class came over and sat with the group.  She giggled at what Connor said.  I WAS IN HEAVEN!!  Can you tell how excited I was?  

Jim and I relaxed and enjoyed the music program.  Frankie wasn't nervous and you could tell she was having fun singing.  Connor and his friends enjoyed the music too. Jim and I basked in the glow of what we once thought was impossible - Connor connecting with other kids, and kids wanting to connect with Connor.  What a gift that hour was for me.  I guess I need to raise my expectations of what Connor CAN do, and not get mired down in what I think he can't do.  He certainly showed me last night, didn't he?

Are We All Actors?

Do you ever feel that almost everyone has their life together except you?  Yeah, me too. A friend and I were discussing the nitty gritty of our lives, lots of stuff that the casual acquaintance does not know.  And we realized that EVERYONE has their own nitty gritty, we just don't know about it.  

This got me thinking . . . Why do we put on the game face that we are together, competent, educated, problem-free people?  When you hear the nitty gritty of someone's life, you realize that they are an awesome actor!  You never knew what stinking rotten stuff had happened in their life because they never let on to their sufferings.  

Often someone will comment that I have my life together.  My response is always: me? no way!  I'm lucky I am wearing my own underwear today.  Yes, my own underwear. During grad school I was so crazy busy that I made sure everyone else had clean underwear, but I never got around to mine.  So I just wore Jim's.  One evening I said, "I am wearing your underwear", you should have seen the look I got!  I reminded him the rule was to wear clean underwear in case you got into an accident - the rule does not state who's underwear it had to be.  I guess that is a loophole, lucky for me.  

See, here is my point.  Would anyone have guessed that I was wearing my husband's underwear (on more than one occasion)?  No.  Because we are all actors in this play of life.  Pretending that everything is hunky-dory and smiling our way through junk we are stepping in.  So I think tomorrow, as long as I am this accomplished actor, I am going to act fancy:  drink with my pinky in the air, say "dahling" and wear my sunglasses inside.  Maybe I will try to stuff my dog in my purse, or maybe not.  

Will we ever get a break?

I am sure most parents feel that they will never get a break from the unending demands of parenthood.  I believe parents of special needs kids feel this more acutely.  For example, by the time a child is 6 years old, most parents can breathe a little more freely as their child is a little more independent and does not need to be watched like a  hawk. Alas, not for us.  

Autism does not give parents a break, ever.  Six years old does not mean that we can relax, even a tiny bit.  You must be on hyper-alert at all times.  This is downright exhausting.  I was talking with a mom the other day.  She said her 3 year old daughter loves to keep her infant busy.  Huh? Whoa.  A 3 year old keeping a baby busy?  She can trust her 3 year old in the presence of an infant?  Wait. A. Minute. Here.  

And then I feel ashamed.  Because I am jealous.  Incredibly jealous.  I may even be a little angry.  Okay a lot angry.  At these times I HATE autism.  I imagine autism as this freaky monster and then I see me all decked out in leather gear with huge, blazing guns.  The rest of this story is rate R, for violence.  Lots of violence. Then I realize the futility of this fantasy and the negative impact on my psyche. Afterall, negative thoughts breed bad karma, and we don't need any more of that here!

So when you are out and about and see a mother with a crazed look in her eye, and her child flipping out.  Stop and think of me.  Trade places with her in line.  Smile at her.  And please, most important of all, do not judge her.  As the saying goes, "there but for the grace of God go I" . . .