Yesiree, nothing quite like the autism smackdown.
I need to write this before I lose it, in spite of the fact that I have both boys clamoring for attention, dinner warming in the oven and all the other thousand little things that are niggling in my periphery, needing to get dealt with. I've been struggling for quite some time, despite working, despite my teaching Sunday school, coaching soccer, taking on G's den leadership...as if all these things are proof that I am just like everyone else, that my kids are just like everyone else.
Who the fuck am I kidding? Really?
I signed my kids up for a drama mini camp, thinking it a good creative outlet for them both. The call I got at 5 pm to come get them both shouldn't have surprised me.
I called hubby to let him know what I was doing and to add, "I am so sick of my heart getting stepped on."
But I opted to walk instead of drive to the school. And in the walk, I felt everything harden, like it does when I am getting ready for some kind battle that involves either or both kids.
I decided, in the space of my footsteps, that the boys are not leaving. They will stay until the end of the session.
They both greeted me in the hallway; I sent G back in and told Nic (crying) to go wait in the hall until he could pull himself together. And he did. And G participated. And I stood there and recalibrated how this all was going to go down, but basically deciding that both boys are going to do this even if it means me shadowing their every move.
Meantime, Nic bonded with one of the teachers. And he decided he was okay to be there.
We argued some as we walked home, mostly me telling Nic all the ways he needs to help me out.
"You just want to tell me what to do," Nic groused.
I stopped and said, "No. You know what, I don't want to tell you what to do because you are such a freaking pain in the ass. Do you think I like listening to you complain? No. But I do need to tell you what to do because I am your mom and that is my job."
It resonated. He made me a nice little card and put a Hershey Kiss in my pocket.
And his face and eyes were red when he handed me the card.
I hugged him, willing my own eyes not to well up.
Because if I start crying, I will never stop.