It’s light up your world blue or red (depending which side of the debate you stand) day (okay maybe it was yesterday but see below) but I am not lighting anything. I am sitting here wondering about it all. Reliving the moments that make the autism real.
Truth is I am tired. I am tired from just trying to get Little Person through her days. I don’t have the energy to debate autism or raise awareness or any of that stuff the cool autism parents do. Because yes as it turns out there are cool autism parents. They either have the patience of saints or the time and observational skills to micromanage things so the meltdowns don’t happen.
I am not a cool autism parent. I am the autism parent that finds herself having palpitations due to the frustration of failing to untangle Little Person’s anxiety. I am the autism parent banging on the doors asking for help and having all the professionals look at Little Person and say “But she’s fine.” And then Little Person comes home and cries and says she’s all confuseded. And won’t say a word more than that. What’s a parent to do?
I am the parent that makes no plans for Saturdays anymore because by then Little Person has had enough. I am the parent of a child that thinks she has to say yes, try harder, fit in, pretend she understands, anything and everything except for be who she is. The parent of a child that doesn’t believe me when I say that she is enough just the way she is.
A parent’s love is supposed to be enough but sometimes it isn’t. A parent is supposed to make the pain and confusion go away but sometimes they can’t. A parent is supposed to be able to see who you are and whisper comfort but sometimes the words are drowned out by the trying.
What’s a parent to do then?
I can’t write about autism acceptance or awareness because they are big and meaningless words. They try to teach Little Person big and important lessons that it’s okay to be different. What she needs is to know it’s okay to be Little Person.
And every day she goes out into a world that reminds her to be anything except herself. What’s a parent to do?