Autistic Inspiration

It's 7 pm on a school night and I've decided to see how far I can take this potty training thing. So, here goes. I take the diaper off; I put the big boy underwear on; I give him a juice box. Now, we wait. I set a timer for fifteen minutes on my phone. Two rounds and no pee pee. Ten minutes into the third round and he's dry. Excellent. Minute thirteen, I check him and he's gone ALL over the couch. Really? Good grief. I know it's not his fault. I know he can't help it. That day I had failed. So, I put a diaper on him and give him a big kiss, fighting tears. Big, fat, hot tears. Tears of frustration not at my  boy but at "Autism." I tuck him into bed and then I let go. Scrubbing the couch and floor and rug and any other surface that I deemed necessary for my wrath with disinfectant and tears. Autism wins. Sometimes, Autism wins. And it's not pretty. It doesn't come in a beautiful package to unwrap. It's raw and ugly. Short fuses, repetition...

My Dearest Noah, Today you are five years old. And I cannot believe it. My darling boy, oh the dreams and ambitions I have for you. To be happy first and foremost, but to have a purpose. You've done so much already, more than I could have ever imagined in my wildest dreams. I truly believe you were sent to this Earth to make people happy. You are kind, sweet and so intuitive. How can this much kindness be in such a young heart!? You, my sweet, got that from your Nanny. So patient and endearing, I am amazed at how much you've taught me. I knew I'd love you but I was never sure how much. To the moon and back just doesn't seem to be enough. It far surpasses that particular distance...my love for you is immeasurable.  You, in your short five years, have touched the lives of so many. And I can say with pure certainty that you will continue to touch many more lives. We are all better for knowing you. You battle the unknown every day and you are ALWAYS smiling. I knew...

Before my husband was my husband, my son was diagnosed with Autism. I'm sure all of you reading this already know that. I do not hide it and I do not mask it. We'd only been dating for about seven months. Well "Diagnosis Day" as it's now known (8/5/13), I gave him an out. I said that I couldn't promise him everything would be okay. I couldn't promise that Noah would grow up and function on his own and move out and get a job. But I definitely couldn't promise that he wouldn't. Not my finest moment, I admit. He said and I quote, "I'm not going anywhere." What a testament to how a real man should act. What did I do to deserve this man? This man that has promised to stand beside me and help mold this tiny little guy into the best big guy he can be. No motives. No hidden agendas. Just love. You should see the way that little guy looks at him. Joy. The word pure comes to mind. Noah's feelings are pure. No drama. No manipulation. Just...

There's a quote in one of my clinic manager's offices that reads, “Sometimes your life is defined by a single moment. Let it be today .”  I know many people will choose the day they were married or the day a child was born and while those days hold a place in my heart so special that anything else just seems insignificant. But a DEFINING moment. A moment that decides your fate as a human being. Well, that moment I remember perfectly... I was more nervous than the day I got married (either time) or when I actually gave birth to Noah. More anxious. More anything really. Emotions were high and it was almost like a dream. An alternate reality really. But anyway, on with the moment. August 5, 2012. It was hot. And I don't mean "wow, I'm sweating." I mean wet shirt, hair up, LORD HAVE MERCY hot. August in Tennessee, there's really nothing but hot. Noah was less than three weeks shy of three years old. He had a way of making all the sadness go away, like air dr...

I read a quote once saying that a mother is a person who does the work of twenty. For free. I find this statement to be insanely true. Somebody always has something for me to do, see, feel, etc., etc. I admit it! There are times when Noah just touches my arm and I full on break down. Thinking: if he brings me one more package of grits, I may lose my mind. So, I get up. I make the grits. He takes one look at them and runs away. Um, hello!? Seriously? And if that wasn't the hundredth time he's done this I'd be fine with it. As I sit here, Noah to my left playing games on his iPad, I can't help but laugh and forget about all that annoying stuff. I soak in this moment. His head on my knee occasionally looking up at me with these big blue sweet eyes and a big smile. That's it. That's why I'm here. This is my purpose. To raise this darling little boy. To guide his journey and teach him to function in society. There is not a breakthrough everyday. But, someho...

When Noah was diagnosed on August 5, 2013, we were told to only focus on the short term. Imagine someone in child development telling you that you cannot worry about your child graduating high school or getting married or moving out of your house and getting a job and starting his own family. What am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to take that? Who are you to tell me something like that? Then I think, hmm, maybe that's absolutely wonderful advice. She absolutely never said it wouldn't happen. She just said don't worry about it NOW. It's the same as 13, 14, and 15 year old kids worrying and wondering what kind of car they'll drive and freshman and sophomores worrying and wondering about what college they'll attend. But in the same breath, how can anyone say, "don't worry" when it comes to your child. Special needs or not. It's in the blueprint of being a mom. It's embedded in our brains. Lord have mercy, I've gone insan...

I am no one special. There are no songs written about me. No billboards bear my picture and still no books have my autobiography in mind. I am just a mom from a small town in Tennessee. There is nothing grand about me. I have been in love a few times and fallen out of love twice. The world will still turn long after I'm gone, but there's one thing that's extraordinary that I've been apart of and that makes me whole. I am not empty and I am not missing parts. You know it's funny, I didn't know your heart could survive outside your chest. And no, I don't really think a heart can prosper outside a body. A proverbial heart if you will. That's the thing about being a mom. Mom's hearts are outside their body. I was born on September 3rd, 1986, to two people who've taught me more about family than anyone could. It's pretty awesome when your parents can be in the same room. And they even have the same last name. Please, don't think I'm judg...