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How did it get to be the end of summer with the kids going back to school this week? I haven't sat down with this blog since February and I can't figure out how that happened. I know I was in full craze mode working as hard as I could to make enough money to pay the bills and keep the house and take care of the kids and advocate for their needs and trying to find out what was making my daughter sick and trying to find ways to keep my son from flipping his desk over and then trying to find the right alternative school placement that fit his needs and then adjusting to my husband being back at work (thank heavens) and getting everyone where they needed to be over the summer so I could work and flooded out basement two times in one month and three kidney stones and who knows what else.
And I know that before I realize it, a new year will be upon me and then another and another. I guess that is how life goes. We make the time to do what we feel is most important to us at that particular moment or what demands our attention the most at a moment.
At this particular moment, Connor is doing his utmost to demand my attention to get on this computer and I am doing my darndest to ignore and write - this is not an easy task.
Yep, that's me having a conversation with someone in line to the bathroom, at the doctor's office or anywhere I find another person. I love meeting new people and enjoy listening to their stories. I learn so much and it helps me to see life from a new perspective.
Yesterday I was a bit nervous talking. My children's psychiatrist asked me to speak to about 100 of her medical students about my experiences with autism. As I stood at the bottom of this huge lecture hall, my nervousness went away. I was talking about my kids, and that is always fun for me.
I felt honored and hopeful to be asked to speak to a new generation of doctors. The medical profession is woefully uneducated about our kids and their unique needs. Wouldn't it be great if every teaching hospital had parents share a bit of their lives?
Ahhh, a New Year brings thoughts of new beginnings. I hung up the new calendar - all fresh and clean. It is the future in my hands - all bright and shiny and full of possibility. And I see in this new calendar a new me. At the tender age of 46, I see a new me trying to fight it's way out of the old me, trying it's best to be born into this new year of possibilities.
The new me is someone who will take care of her body, mind and soul, instead of neglecting it at the bottom of a too-long list. The new me is someone who will take her time and enjoy the moment, instead of rushing by. The new me is someone who will stop, listen and play with her children, instead of worrying about completing some unimportant task. The new me is someone who will see her children as children, not as children with labels.
I think I like this new me already.
