14 and counting.

     It's upon me again.  It's birthday time for Phoebe, and each year I think, "I made it through another year."  I won't say it's getting easier with her, but I will say it's getting to be "normal."  This year, Phoebe turns 14.  It was fourteen years ago that the chubby- doll faced baby came in to this world.  And, not one day since has been "normal."  She continues to amaze me with what she can and can't do.  I wonder what the future may hold for her.  Recently, I read a great blog by another mother of an autistic girl, around Phoebe's age.  She has many of the same traits Phoebe has, and her mother like myself has asked this same question.  What will happen to these children?  I am not sure of the answer.
     Many people ask me.."what does Phoebe like to do?"  My answer to this is usually, "boss everyone around, and tell people that they like her." (this to be funny)  But, what does she really  like?  This is hard to say.  She likes to eat.  Alot.  She likes to talk...and talk...and talk...to get me to talk.   She likes clothes, and changing clothes, and watching the Tigers, and the Spartans and telling me "GO BLUE" just to tick me off.  (This makes me laugh)   But, what does she REALLY like to do?  I don't know.  I wonder if she even knows.  Under layers of anxiety, awkwardness, wonder, and where she is in this universe...there has to be some kind of basic interests. How do I get that out of her?  I have tried to guide her to certain things...and this doesn't seem to work.  I've tried sports, art (of course!), and everything in between.   She loves technology and ipad, ipod, iphone, and iMAC.  She can change settings, and show you have to do something in the blink of an eye.  Half the time I never know it's my phone ringing because Phoebe has changed the ringtone.  There has to be a way to channel this.  There is something there...I just know it.
     I will start watching closely and see if I can make something of this, because I do want Phoebe to have a future.  A future that involves her doing something she loves. (Other than eating) Don't we all want that?

Autism shouldn't take that away from her.

Happy 14th Birthday to my Phoebe.  May you always do what you love. :)

Tired

I'm tired of winter.  I'm tired of crying.  Tired of parenting, cleaning, homework, making dinner, making sure people are clean in this house, more cleaning, laundry, taking the trash out, and the month of February--to name a few.  I did not sign up to do this alone.  While that doesn't change the fact that I am...its still exhausting.   I'm tired of saying the same things over and over to Phoebe.  Tired of reassuring her of schedule, and time frame, and everything else she has insecurities about.   This is a 24/7 job.  I am not kidding when I say that.  Last night, Phoebe woke up at least 5 times. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I have class from 8-4.  Getting up with her 5 times takes its toll on my 42 year old body.   I feel much older, and much more worn out these last few weeks.   Never in my life, until now, have I woken up at 6 am, and thought, "sweet lord, how am I going to get through this today?"  Not even when these 2 children were infants did I wonder that.  However, at 28, and 31...I was much more agile to accomplish such things. (And, I did have some help)  Don't get me wrong...I am not complaining.  Ok- I'm TOTALLY complaining, and want the world to know it.

I look down the road and think...what does my life look like? Recently, I saw a man that I went to high school with, at Kroger.  He was with his mother, and he has always had special needs.  (I am not sure what- and it doesn't matter).  He has to be in his 40's, and his mother looked to be about 70.   I smiled and said hello to her, and to him.  She looked at me with wide eyes...and I said..."I remember him from high school."  She was so thrilled to have someone talk to her.  She said.."HOW NICE of you to say hello."  He smiled at me.  Not sure if he remembered, but I sure do.  When I got by her...I thought to myself..."Oh my god..that's me in 20 years."   Maybe some nice young person will say hello to Phoebe and I at Krogers, when we get old.   I certainly hope I don't look as tired as that nice lady did.  (But, I'm pretty sure I will)

I'm tired of being a single parent.  I'm tired of Autism.

I'm just tired.