A Mothers Love: Poem for my son.

The school bell rang and children rushed,

Toward their classroom doors,

I saw you pull your hat down firm,

And brace yourself – then pause.

.

And as you walked inside your room, 

I noticed you inhale,

Your hands you pulled into your sleeves,

Your face began to pale.

.

I saw you mutter to yourself,

And count your steps until, 

You noticed I was watching you,

Then stopped and stood dead still.

.

I think you’re brave , you push yourself,

Out of your comfort zone,

I see this and it makes me proud,

I know you’d rather stay home.

.

You think that you have got me fooled,

And that I’ve got no clue,

But I’m your Mum – I see your pain,

In most things that you do.

.

I know that when you pace and count,

You’re trying to pro-cess,

And when your brow is screwed up tight,

It means you’re getting stressed.

.

You sometimes find it hard to speak,

And tell me how you feel,

When you get home from school each day,

For you that pain is real!

.

I’ve come to learn that you express,

Emotions differently,

As either happiness or rage,

And nothing in between.

.

I need to show you other ways,

To let your feelings out,

There are better ways to show me these,

You needn’t scream and shout.

.

Just know son that no matter what,

I’ll love you with my all,

I’m here to guide you through these years,

And catch you if you fall.

Step back in time

My Mum has decided to do a really big clean out in her house. Kind of like spring cleaning. But it’s winter.

Well….she calls it “downsizing so that there’s not so much for you and your sister to sort through when I die” but that’s far too morbid for my liking! So winter/spring cleaning it is

And last week while I was up there, she was clearing boxes out from under her stair case and she pulled out a dusty box full of all the school work that we brought home over the years!

I can’t believe she has kept it all!

Especially since I am the mother who throws out everything. I can’t stand piles of paper everywhere. School work doesn’t last long here.

{Although, having said that: I do keep the really special pieces of artwork that all my kids have done and have laminated them for posterity. So I’m not totally evil! }

I have had an absolute ball reading through all my old school books and I especially loved reading the poetry that I wrote when I was in grade 2. I had a whole book called “I can write stories” . CUTE!

I noticed that my love for writing poetry and writing in general must have started earlier than I remember and I laughed and laughed at the stories that my little 7 year old brain came up with!

Here is a poem/story that I wrote called: Scott’s Tortoise learnt to fly

(And here’s a little bit of behind the scenes info for you: Scott was my very first boyfriend. We were SO in love LOL)

…..
One day when I was out playing,
Suddenly I heard someone wailing,
I looked right up to the sky,
And then I saw a tortoise trying to fly,
And so I shouted loud to him,
“Come on, come on, and fly to that limb”
I climbed up that limb and got him down,
And ran with him right out of town.
…..

Hilarious!

Wonder what else I’ll come across

Unsent letter

To the person who has hurt us,

You do know who you are,

I want to tell you here- right now,

That you have gone too far.

.

I want to let you know that we,

Still love you just the same,

But it hurts me when you judge our ways,

And give me all the blame

.

You know my life is not like yours,

And it will never be,

I do the best with what I have,

So please don’t bad mouth me

.

My children know that they come first,

And have my full attention,

So forgive me now, if you’ve to wait,

And I am not perfection

.

I feel that you just inward look,

And make it all about you,

But in THIS house, we’re not that way,

You never seem to approve

.

I’m sorry if you feel that I,

Have been a dreadful pain,

I have no time for childish rants,

It’s puts me off my game

.

My days are filled with ASDs

And everything that includes,

So give me grace when I am not,

Always in the happiest moods

.

I’m sorry that I sometimes get,

All tense and non compliant,

But all this stress has turned my woes,

Into a towering giant.

.

I’ve never claimed to be immune,

To snapping under pressure,

But bringing up the past to us,

Just brings us such displeasure.

.

So instead of focusing on yourself,

Why not offer to shoulder our burden,

And walk a mile in different shoes,

Before just spurting your poison.

.

I work so hard but still you want,

To criticize me and complain,

You won’t believe in ASDs

So it’s always just the same…

.

I’ve tried to tell you all I can,

But you don’t want to listen,

So saying that I am “not right”

Has been your latest mission

.

If I’m “not right” then why do I,

Do most of this myself?

And manage to raise gorgeous kids,

With barely any help?

.

The things that you’ve complained about,

Weren’t done to tick you off,

My heart was right, and full of love,

But now….I’ve had enough

.

I can’t go on pretending that,

Everything is now okay,

I’ve tried my best – but it’s not enough,

I’ve nothing left to say

.

I truly hope that you get to,

The place where you find peace,

I pray that God will bless you lots,

And that this tension now will cease…..

Different NOT less.

This poem was inspired by a number of things that have transpired here lately. Firstly by Eustacia Grandin Cutler who is Dr. Temple Grandin’s mother who coined the phrase “Different not less”. She wanted the world to know that her daughter is remarkable but my no means any less of a masterpiece just because her thoughts and ideas are sometimes a little left of centre.

Another inspiration for this poem comes from sitting down at night and talking to Harley about his day and hearing the pain in his voice as he is starting to realise that he is different to his peers.

He has had a lot of “down” moments lately and it has been coming out in his behaviours at home.

No-one else is privy to this hurting side of him and that’s one of the downsides to being high-functioning I guess. He is able to recognise that he is an anomaly and is trying his darndest to change that and I’m so mega proud of my boy but sometimes feel like I’m standing on the sidelines watching a traumatic event take place before my very eyes and all I can do is stand anchored to the ground with my arms ties to my side unable to do anything to help him.

Sometimes I want to run away,

And leave it all behind,

I’m tired of the exhaustion, want

To quit the daily grind

.

The tiny things that make me see,

The hugeness of this task,

Of raising special children is,

A really montstrous ask.

.

It’s not the normal Mummy things,

That make me want to yell,

I can do the meals, the baths, the chores,

And manage very well.

.

The dressing kids and sorting fights,

And homework battles too,

I get that every other Mum,

Feels like she runs a zoo!

.

No, it’s not the things that we ALL do,

That make my tears begin,

And threaten to undo my cool,

and break my heart within.

.

It’s seeing how the simplest things,

Can totally undo,

My child because he cannot tell,

Me what he’s needing to.

.

When he erupts if he can’t cope,

I sense his physical pain,

I see the torment in his eyes,

And watch him thrash again.

.

He wants to be like all his friends,

He wants to blend right in,

He knows he’s different and that hurts,

His feelings through and through.

.

My mother’s heart just breaks apart,

When he tries to adjust,

To sit in crowds, with noise and lights,

And try to look non-plussed.

.

The things that others take for granted,

Really causes me stress,

I want the world to realise that,

He’s different but NOT less.

Tossing out the pebbles.

Decisions are like skimming rocks upon a glistening lake,

Some glide while others plummet and then sink,

I make my plans and polish the stones to see if I can make,

My choices win and not end up in the drink.

~

I’m asking lots of questions but the answer does not come,

Solutions wave and mock me from afar,

I feel my strength unraveling; I’m slowly being undone,

I wonder if it has to be this hard?

~

The answers are in reach although I don’t know where to start,

I question if I really know my stuff?

My priorities are ordered and I know them all by heart,

But I doubt that they will ever be enough.

~

If I could figure out just what my next few moves should be,

And make my brain relax and take a break,

I know then that I’d understand and be able to see,

In front of me and just what is at stake.

~

I need to learn to lay things down and not let them control,

My every waking thought until I crack,

But I’m the kind that feels all things with heart as well as soul,

And know that there’s no room for turning back.

~

I know that once I stop and rest: The answer will hunt ME down,

But that requires me to let things be,

And that’s much easier said than done – I feel like I could drown,

But I have to or I’ll never again be free.

Another side of me.

Hello beautiful readers.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I’ve decided that it’s time to reveal a bit more of myself. No – I’m not going to start stripping my clothes off!

But I am going to publish the link to my “other” blog.

I have been writing this other blog since last October and originally the link was only given to a handful of close friends but now I’ve decided that I’m ok about being more public.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am a Christian on this blog but the purpose of Wonderfully Wired has never been to be used as a preaching platform. It’s main focus will still remain on the ups and downs of raising children on the autistic spectrum and my other blog “Being Still and Listening” is for me to write about my walk with Christ.  It mostly consists of poetry and letters and isn’t updated as frequently as this one is.

I hope to see you there!

http://www.stilltohear.wordpress.com.au or you can simply click –> HERE <–

Fi xx

King David rocks!

 Things have been rough here lately. I won’t bore you with the details but the basics are: Harley has been a NIGHTMARE, some plans that I thought were going to come to pass never eventuated and my children have been at constant loggerheads for WEEKS now!

I sat down in the sunshine this morning with a pen in my hand and my journal so I could write it all out. I just wanted to purge myself of these depressive emotions and helpless thoughts..

I was chatting to my Mum on the phone afterwards and she commented and how similar my words were to that of David’s Psalm 13 in the bible.

I giggled as I told her that I had just finished writing a poem and I read some of it out to her on he phone.

But mine is definitely more of a 2011 version and more specific to my current issues. The main similarity is that I too have been asking God why on earth he is not answering my questions and why he seems to be hiding from me!

…….

Is it meant to be this flippin’ hard ,

I need to catch a break

The constant strife and sibling wars,

Are more than I can take!

.

Poor Ella says she’s had enough,

And really wants to leave,

I know exactly how she feels,

I’d also like a reprieve.

.

Just simple tasks like getting dressed,

Result in big explosions,

Of tears and kicks and hits and cries,

And un-controlled emotions.

.

Each day I swear it’s getting worse,

My patience is wearing thin,

Does it really improve? Or is that just a joke?

Will we EVER start to win?

.

I thought by now we’d start to see,

Improvement NOT back-sliding,

So why do I feel like I need to go,

Retreat back into hiding?

.

We’ve got the cards of visual clues,

Stuck up on every surface,

But still we fight and tempers flare,

Do we honestly deserve this?

.

What will it take for them to see,

They’re tearing me apart?

Every stupid whinge and silly fight,

Stabs right into my heart.

.

I KNOW that God has said he won’t

Forsake or leave my side,

But I cannot seem to find him here,

Maybe he’s hidden beneath my pride?

.

He also promised that there is,

A great plan for my life,

His will isn’t for me to be just another,

Exhausted mother and wife.

.

So even though it hurts so much,

I’ll choose to seek His face,

And look to Him and his guiding light,

Until I complete this race.

.

.

Psalm 13

    For the director of music. A psalm of David.

 ¹ How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever? 
   How long will you hide your face from me? 
² How long must I wrestle with my thoughts 
   and day after day have sorrow in my heart? 
   How long will my enemy triumph over me?

 ³ Look on me and answer, LORD my God. 
   Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, 
⁴ and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” 
   and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

 ⁵ But I trust in your unfailing love; 
   my heart rejoices in your salvation. 
⁶ I will sing the LORD’s praise, 
   for he has been good to me.

Releasing happy tears

Coming home with your report card,         

You looked at me and said;

“I’ve tried my best but school’s so hard,

It’s doing in my head!”

.

I smiled and then I reassured you,

That I only want,

For your best shot in all you do,

I don’t expect savant!

.

To see you learn the things that are,

An instinct for your peers,

Then do your best and try so hard,         

Just gives me happy tears.

.

It matters not what grade you get,

Or where you have been placed,

Nor if you are the teacher’s pet,

Because it’s not a race.

.

I love to watch you as you work,

And see your furrowed brow,

Your crooked wrist and little quirks,

That epitomise you somehow.

.

I never dreamed that life would be,    

This fast, full on or mad,

And filled with joy and ecstasy,

Though also sometimes sad.

.

Your days seem longer than before,

There’s so much more to do,

It’s why you feel so drained I’m sure,

Keep going son…. because I’m proud of you…….

Why do I blog?

Whilst I primarily write about life with our autistic children, it is not all that I am.

Me in my "teen angst" years

Just as autism doesn’t define who my kids are….it also doesn’t define my role as a mother, a wife, a daughter and a friend.

As a teenager I wrote a lot of poetry. Most of it is no longer recorded anywhere as I burnt most of it in a ceremonial bonfire not long after I got married.

The memories that they held were just too painful so I wanted them gone.

Doing this is something that I often remember and regret.

(I bet you didn’t know any of this Mum!)

***

I have discovered a lot about myself since I started blogging.

I am able to work through things a lot quicker and more smoothly when I write out my thoughts, emotions and fears.

Someone asked me today why I blog. I thought about it and this poem just came to me.

*****

I write for the freedom of speaking my mind,

Expressing emotions and thoughts,

Uncovering my feelings – once left behind,

Sharing my story of sorts.

.

I’ve never considered the prospect of being,

A slave to the rules of the pen,

I write as I live and I write what I’m seeing,

The way that it happens and when.

.

I don’t care for lying and making up stuff,

It’s seems like a grand waste of time,

The truths that I share here should be just enough,

As the stories I tell are all mine.

.

To be a known writer is not my real goal,

I just need to write for release,

For when I have written my thoughts I feel whole,

And the worries in my head will then cease.

.

I know that when I start to bottle things up,

My emotions take over and then…

I start to lose focus and fire from the cuff,

So I’m sticking with the therapy of the pen…

.

So……Why do YOU blog??

How much longer?

My little boy has his bag packed,
His clothes are all laid out,
He cannot wait til school goes back,
It’s ALL we hear about!
.
He’s busting for this break to end,
He asks us EVERY day,
“How long until I see my friends, 
So I can go and play?”.
.
“Just three more sleeps” is what I said,
This evening when he asked,
“You’ll have to wait now GO TO BED,
and dream of your new class”
.
“But Mum!, I can’t sleep – it’s much too hard,
My brain just won’t slow down,
I’m thinking about school and playing in the yard,
With my bey blades and sharing them around”
.
So I turned to my boy and I started to say:
“I know you’re excited son,
But you’ve got to wait until this Monday,
So….try to sleep…Before you know it….it will come .

……………….

We went and met his new teacher today.
All good so far.
We have our fingers, toes and everything else crossed that it stays that way !
I pray that this excitement of Harley’s carries through the hard, anxious and sad times that may come.

In print…

I’ve spent the day today writing down my thoughts,
And all my gripes in a very long letter,
I wanted to send it but I know that I can’t,
Because it’ll makes things worse not better
.
I always try to be the best that I can,
As a friend, as a person, and a mother,
But unfortunately , I’ve been misunderstood,
And misjudged and maligned by another
.
It really got me down and I had decided that,
This was the end of all my daily blogging,
I was shutting back down and locking my feelings up,
My character had taken quite a flogging
.
But to my lovely friend, I cannot thank you enough,
For believing in me and talking me through this pain,
It is because of your prayers and your caring gift of love,
That has pulled me up and freed me once again
.
I know I’m not always such a pleasant and nice girl,
I take some things to heart and get real mad!
The way that I’ve been made is to de-fend all my kids,
And my heart breaks up when any of them are sad
.
If they really looked inside me and seached beyond my words,
They’d see that all my motives are pure,
I don’t intend to hurt people and make them feel so bad,
I can help it if others are insecure.
.
So I wrote a heavy poem and I filed it under “hurts”
And vowed that it is never seeing light,
The release I felt from writing it was just the trick for me,
And it will now help me sleep right through the night
.
I’m going to end by saying that I hope that they can see,
That this is all really silly stuff,
I’ve done my best to be God’s child and love my fellow man,
And they might not but HE thinks that’s enough.

****************************************************

Uh- oh, she's at it AGAIN!….. :)

Ok, some bloggers love ‘em, some bloggers hate ‘em.

Personally, I’m in the former group!

I LOVE these kinds of lists.

This idea came from a wonderful new blog called Living with Aspie lad and the man.

The author Beeque, described her aspie sons delightful way of describing his emotional love tank by coining the phrase Love Petrol.

It’s a fabulous little story and her follow-up post is called : A little more love petrol.

Make sure you go and have a read of these 2 gorgeous posts.

Here’s MY list

1) Playing my piano, I have been playing since I was 5 years old and although I have had many years without even touching it at all (thanks to having children and therefore having all my time used up) lately, I have found great therapy in writing songs and playing.

I have re-aquainted myself with the gorgeous dark wood piano that Mr Patient bought me as a wedding present 12 years ago.

Side fact: I took Musical composition as an elective for years 11 and 12 at school and it took me years to get over the fact that one of the girls in my class completely plagiarised my piece and handed it in before me thus making the Music teachers believe that I was the one cheating….

.

2) Writing….Who’d a thunk it?

Writing was never something that I thought I would get this in to. I wrote a lot of poetry as a teen and kept a journal throughout my youth (and read it again years later but ended up burning them all because of the painful reminders that reading all this brought me – this is an action I now regret).

But since I started putting my feelings and emotions and thoughts into print, I seem to be able to get over things faster and Mr Patient has commented that he’s noticed a more settled wife.

I only write for fun and have found something that works for me. So that’s why I continue to do so

.

3) Sewing……LOVE LOVE LOVE IT!

Though sadly, like my piano playing – it is something else that has had to take a backseat since having children.  My machine still gets pulled out occasionally when the kids need a costume for school etc.

And here’s an interesting fact for my school friend readers……. the reason I never took it as an elective for my senior years at school was because the teacher (remember HER!) wouldn’t believe that the suit I sewed was my own work. Because my Mum is a dress-maker – she accused me of getting my mother to make it for me.

PAH!

Then there was the run in I had with my Maths teacher when he made an example of me IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CLASS belittling me for not knowing the answer to a question and telling the whole class that he was also teaching my YOUNGER sister that year and that SHE knew the answers and the laughed at me!

Or the Social science teacher who argued evolution with me and told me that God is not real…..Seriously……Don’t go there with me, it’s not worth your time!

Anyhow, I digress…….!! And I now know WHY I need to write!!

.

4) My hilarious friends…..you all know who you are.

Laughter truly is the best medicine.

***

Proverbs 17:22 (Amplified Bible)

“A happy heart is good medicine and a cheerful mind works healing, but a broken spirit dries up the bones,”

***

I love to get together with friends and laugh until I cry.

Sometimes, when reading other people’s blogs I laugh so much,  Mr Patient thinks I’m slowly losing the plot!

I actively SEEK OUT funny blogs because I always feel so wonderful after a good belly laugh.

Here a couple of the non-autism blogs that I regularly read because they put a smile on my face and make my day

.

http://lady-mama.blogspot.com/

http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/

http://drgrumpyinthehouse.blogspot.com/

http://1000awesomethings.com/

http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/

http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/?page_id=9798

.

5) Saturday date night.

OK….So we stay in, but Mr Patient always wanted to be a chef or….do what he does now so in his spare time , he learned how to cook

And can I just say…..he is fabulous!

We have had a tradition (that we have been slack with lately but are attempting to revive) where every Saturday night, we would put the kids to bed and he would find a new recipe that he’s never cooked before and buy a bottle of wine to compliment it and we would spend the night “in” together and watch a DVD.

We are hoping to have a chicken dish this weekend and foxtel has some great box office movies on at the moment!

And ……

-

I’m only writing 5 things since I have already filled a whole post!

Hmmm – Interesting!

Now…….I want some of YOUR lists either in Beeque’s comments or on your own blogs!

Come on peoples……What is YOUR love petrol?????

Silence please!!!

Lately, I’ve really been struggling with my two boys and their constant activity levels.
It’s been absolutely exhausting and brought a lot of tension into the house.

While I have been taught countless methods by health professionals such as OTs and speech therapists of how to help them regulate themselves, I find it near impossible to implement with 3 kids and 1 adult.
Mr Patient is rarely home before 9pm or he’s away interstate.

My beautiful friend Lisa has helped me to remember how much release I used to get from putting my feelings down in poetry…

So….here’s another one

Raising boys can be quite rough,
And challenging at times,
Sometimes I think I’ve had enough,
And they cross too many lines…

They seem to think that no means yes,
And push me til I break,
When it stops is anyone’s guess,
So what’s it going to take?!

The constant noise is over the top,
They run and flap and jump,
My days are full and I don’t stop,
Meanwhile….my house becomes a dump!

I wonder if it is just me,
That struggles with my lads?
Do other mums of boys agree,
Are you also going mad?

Some people say that they will grow,
Into some fine young men,
But there’s still one thing I want to know,
Can someone tell me when?

If I had to choose the thing I love,
The most about my boys,
It wouldn’t be the fighting or
The ever present noise,

It would just plain and simply be,
The way they make me melt
When they hug me tight and then kiss me,
And I’m thankful for the hand I’ve been dealt.

Mummy loves you both even though you drive me batty!!!

My ratbag boys!

I wrote this a few weeks ago when my 2 mischevious little boys decided to climb over our front gate.

The fence is about 2 metres high (about 6.5 feet) and they had to climb onto the wheelie bin (outdoor trash can that’s about 4 feet high) to reach it.

Pretty impressive for a 4 year old I think. But like most boys – they will do anything of another boy dares them to!

 

 

Oh me Oh my,

Oh please! Oh why?

I’m feeling rather tense

.

My boys were found

Not making a sound while

Climbing over our front fence.

.

They jumped the gate,

I was too late,

To stop them falling down

.

On the other side,

They tried to hide

From the neighbour’s angry hound.

.

They’ve never learned

That awkward squirms,

Could promptly seal their fate

.

So across the road

To our humble abode,

They ran towards our gate!

.

Their mischief thwarted,

Their mission aborted,

And scared out of their heads

.

They came inside

All hyped and wired

Claiming they were “almost dead”

.

So they went and played,

Being LOTS more staid

They fiddled with their toys

.

I smiled instead,

I knew in my head

That boys will ALWAYS be boys

*****

 

I doubt that they will attempt that fence climbing escapade again anytime soon!

 

google image

 

 

And yes…….they DID escape the dog but only to taunt him again from the safe side of the fence!!!

Mr Brave……

 

 

google image

 

As I wrote earlier this morning, Harley was not a very happy camper before school.

EVERYTHING was an issue. I wondered if he was going to make it today and half expected to receive a phone call from his teacher.

Well…..I DID receive a call, but only to let me know that he was doing great and that there were no problems.

My negative side immediately kicked in and I braced myself for the onslaught of wayward emotions that would probably be aimed directly at me after school!

But , he surprised me! – He was cool, calm and collected.

I think that once he got over the initial anxiety and fear of school gong back and realised that it was going to be A-OK, he was able to relax a bit.

I was SO proud of him, I wrote him another poem.

I’m keeping these in a little book so that I can give them to him when he’s older

 

 

 

 

You walked into school and you squeezed my hand,
I saw your bravest smile,
I told you that I loved you so you’d understand
I’d be back in just a little while,
.
You walked through the rain and fixed your gaze,
On the footpath and your feet,
Your bravery really did amaze
Me, You stared in the face of defeat,
.
When you felt the cold air on your arms,
You didn’t kick and scream,
You looked up at me and you used your charms,
The maturest action that I’ve seen,
.
Because in the past something just like this,
Would have made you lose your cool,
The very thought of something being amiss,
Made you run right out of school,
.
So you see my boy, I am very proud,
I can see you’re growing up,
You are learning that by yelling and by being loud,
It just gives you cranky mum!
.
I know it was hard cos you’d rather be home,
And I am your number one fan,
I’d love to have you here, not be alone,
But you did it! You brave little man!

Shhh my little one close your eyes

The kids have been in bed for a couple of hours now and I just went into check on them like I always do.

 

google image

 

Lucas is notoriously noisy at bedtime.

He talks to himself, he sings little songs out loud and generally winds himself down verbally.

This isn’t a problem at home where he has his own room and it’s not near Harley’s but here at Mum’s where they share a room, it’s no good at all for Harley.

He surprised me tonight by asking to go to my bed and begging to make Lucas be quiet so he could go to sleep.

It’s surprising because Harley is generally the child that we have struggled with sleep issues for 7 years straight.

He is the one who comes out dozens of times a night. He is the one who has night terrors and the child who simply will . not . go . to . sleep.

Or stay asleep.

Often he’s in our room at all hours of the night unable to settle himself.

But tonight, he is exhausted. Probably a mixture of sickness, tiredness and too many days of being out of routine.

As I started out saying: I went in and sat on the edge of the bed and watched Harley sleep for a while.

With every rise and fall of his little chest as he breathed, I could almost reach out and touch the peace myself.

It was almost tangible.

Every night I pray with him. I as God to give him sweet dreams, to give him rest , peace and to revive him for the next day.

It occurred to me that these children – who are ironically some of the worst sleepers that exist – are the children that desperately NEED sleep so that they can get a break from their ever racing, constantly thinking, analysing and obsessive thinking.

And as I watched him sleep – I decided that I needed to write about it.

And so this was born:

 

I walk into your room at night,

I see your eyelids flutter,

Your resting face is a delight,

My heart just melts like butter

~

When you’re asleep you are at peace,

Your mind has quit it’s racing,

You lie so still, so calm, released,

There are NO trials for facing

~

I’m pleased to know you can escape,

The rushing of your thoughts,

The constant playing of the tape,

of worries of all sorts.

~

I wish that when you’re on the go,

Your brain would just slow down,

But now my child, just slumber so,

Just rest , Shhhh, not a sound.

Feelings

I wish that I could understand,

there’s so much I don’t get,

I read, I search, I ask, I look

But still, I stay perplexed.

.

Why do you think that what you say

Will make me see your view?

I try to stand there in your shoes,

But still, I’ve not a clue

.

I think that sometimes, you can see

That I am so frustrated,

And even though you try to help,

Your aid seems overrated.

.

“Just leave me be” is what you say

And I’m supposed to know,

That this just means that you just can’t talk,

Not that you wish I’d go

.

For now I think that I’ll just wait,

I know you’ll come ‘round soon,

But until then forgive me please,

If I act like a loon

.

You see, it’s also hard for me

I struggle to see your way,

Because for me things like stress and pain

Are easy for me to display,

.

I know you have a heart of gold,

And do the best you can,

That’s why I want the world to know

I truly LOVE this man,

.

When will the day come that you feel,

Able to let me near

I’ll be here waiting every day,

Because ….I love you Dear…….X

.

Yes……Even men struggle with having children with aspergers……particularly those that see so much of themselves in their children.

For My Ella

I had it suggested to me that I should write a poem for my other 2 children as well.
So here’s Ella’s…..

You are my firstborn daughter and
you’re who made me a Mum,
I’d had no clue what true joy was,
and the volumes yet to come!

You are so very smart and brave,
there’s nothing you won’t try,
you’re first to offer up yourself,
and last to question why

I watch you as you socialise
and how you play with friends,
the scripting and the mimicking,
your perseverance never ends

I see you ape the other girls,
I know you want to fit,
and it makes me really angry when
I see them laugh and tit

I love your sense of humour and,
adore your need to serve,
you’re such a gorgeous daughter
so much more than we deserve

I hope you know how loved you are,
though often feel neglected,
The boys take up so much of our time,
But please know you’re never rejected!

Love you princess………. XX MUMMY XX

For my Harley

For my precious Harley,

If I could peek inside your brain,
I wonder what I’d see,
A bunch of wires with knots and twists,
all woven randomly?

Perhaps the buttons that help you speak,
have been left on “repeat”,
And movement wires have shorted out,
the anchors for your feet!

I’d love to learn just what goes on.
inside your awesome mind,
I know that you are “oh-so-smart”,
I would be left behind!

I know that there are parts of you,
that wish you were the same,
So you could play with other kids,
and understand their games.

I’m sure it hurts when you don’t know,
just what on earth’s expected,
I hate to see you all alone,
and looking so dejected

But what these kids have failed to see,
is how unreal you are,
Your passion, love and loyalty,
exceeds the norm by far!

I know that life is going to bring,
you challenges small and great,
But never forget that through them all,
I’ll stay your closest mate.

Love you tiger even though I don’t always understand you.

XX MUMMY XX