When you read today’s post – please keep in mind that I’m not looking for sympathy. I am working through this in my own way by writing it out. I am not angry, or depressed or complaining, but I have found myself to be at a bit of an impasse and not knowing which direction to head in.
I love my kids and am fiercely protective of them but on occasion…..there are parts of their brands of autism that drive me stinking crazy. Hence this post.
Cyber hugs will be gratefully accepted as will heartfelt advice but criticism will not be published.
Ok. Ground rules laid out, let’s begin.
Most of you know that both of my boys are diagnosed on the autistic spectrum, and most of the time I’m ok with that. But if I’m being completely truthful with myself, I can admit that a lot of the time I also feel quite ripped off.
And there’s another emotion circling overhead that looks a lot like jealousy or anger but I’m refusing to admit that either of them are possibilities. So for now they will remain known as ‘the unknown factors’.
OK ;)
And it’s not so much that I’m ‘jealous’ of the normal families that I seem to see everywhere – because I’ve mostly dealt with the fact that this is our life and that it’s ok to be different, but surprisingly I’m MORE ‘jealous’ of those families that only have one child with autism.
I’m ‘jealous’ of the fact that they can focus on that child’s needs alone and of the lengths that they are able to go to, to ensure that their child’s needs are mostly met.
I read stories about new techniques that they’ve learned and methods that parents have implemented and wish that there were some way that I could make them work for us. But I know that I can’t put one child’s needs on a higher priority than the other and I know that I am not able to always to meet both of their needs at the same time.
Sure, I join these parents in rejoicing when their child makes progress or learns something new but there’s a part of me that inwardly cries out: “My child could possibly learn that too if he were the only one I had to put the extra time and effort into”.
Because let’s face it. There’s no doubt that raising children is hard work full stop.
And raising multiple kids kicks it up a level. But raising children with a special need kicks the difficulty factor up a helluva lot of notches.
So trying to foresee and plan for 2 kids with completely opposite high needs – is nothing short of bloody ridiculous.
Most afternoons in the car on the way home from school – there is screaming and/or crying. And most of these episodes can be attributed to the two boys driving each other stark raving MAD! The problems arise because they are both needing to escape from their brain overloads but because their sensory profiles and emotional needs are polar opposites – they do what calms them in completely different ways.
Harley goes into a trance like state where he shuts down and sits quietly with his arms wrapped up around his bended legs. He finds comfort from gently rocking back and forth and gazing out the window. I have learned not to ask him about his day or try to converse with him until he has had his down time and I know he will come to me when (and if) he’s ready to talk later on.
And this would be great if he were able to do this in peace each afternoon. Ella and I would gladly leave him be until he was ready for company. If he could spend the car trip home defragging from his day – I’m sure that our entire afternoons would be a helluva lot smoother.
But our problem is that Lucas also needs to defrag as well. But he gets his release from vocal stimming. He hums, makes throaty repetitive noises and flicks his fingers over and over again. He talks non-stop in boring monologues and pointless rhetoric.
And as you can imagine…..all of these…drive….Harley…..CRAZY!
So then the tears begin.
The tears quickly turn to moans, then to thrashing in his seat and eventually he screams at Lucas with his hands over his ears begging him to stop making those noises.
So what should I do?
Whose “need” is more important?
Who do I tell to change ?
Do I try to stop Lucas from making noises (that really are quite harmless) for Harley’s benefit?
Or do I try to teach Harley to ignore it and give him headphones to wear instead. (Which I have done many times).
But then, there’s the part of me that wonders if I should be doing a better parenting job. I wonder if I should be using situations like this to teach them both a thing or two about life. Should I use the moment to teach Harley that there will be many times during his life where things will annoy, frustrate and irritate him but that he needs to learn to suck it up occasionally. Or should Lucas be taught that his noises are irritating to other people and that he needs to control himself better and point out that people in the real world will tell him to shut up if he continues that into adulthood.
Well I suppose the time will come that both of these issues will need to be addressed, but then while my own brain is processing these thoughts, my mother heart takes over and tells me that it’s my job and responsibility to provide what they BOTH need and give them the grace to wind down from a busy day in their own individual ways.
And then the guilt begins.
Eventually my head starts to hurt and I react like I did today: Today it all got too much for me, so I pulled the car over on the side of the road, turned off the ignition and climbed out of the car for ten minutes to let them fight it out alone. I stood beside the car with my back turned to them just taking deep breaths and I counted to 100.
I totally bailed on them both.
And I did it because I simply didn’t know which child to help. I couldn’t prioritise either of their needs and problems and I couldn’t work out which decision to make. All I knew was that I needed to get as far away as possible from the chaos that was unravelling right before me and that I needed to escape immediately.
Anyone that has ever tried concentrating in traffic whilst children scream, throw things and kick the back of your seat will know that in situations like this, escape is not only highly desirable but also entirely necessary.
I did what I had to do to prevent me from having a car accident. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.
I’m still left wondering: How the hell do I fix this?
And why doesn’t anything seem to work?
I’m sure that both of them would be AOK if they didn’t have each other. If I only had Harley, I could provide that quiet safe place. If I only had Lucas, I could allow him to make the noises he needs to and run and bounce to his heart’s content. But I wouldn’t want to even imagine life without either of my precious wonderful boys.
But this isn’t just about a car trip each afternoon. As my friend puts it – I am living in a constant combat zone.
If it’s not the car, it’s the dinner table. If it’s not the dinner table, it’s in the bathroom with gurgling and teeth cleaning noises. Or the trampoline and the joyful yelling that goes along with it, or the TV noise levels, or the volume on the iPad. We leave one combat zone (the car) each afternoon to leap straight into another one that’s equally as exhausting and demoralising. And it continues well into the sleep combat zone.
And then I’m back to my original thought: Am I jealous, angry or is it something more?
Where do I go from here?



















