Tag Archives: judgement

Celebrating Mothers Day The Aspergers Way

10 Mar

Yesterday evening the little man asked me a question that was prompted by that of one of my own!

My question to him was… ‘Do you know what day it is tomorrow?’

His answer… ‘Um, yes… Its Sunday’

I then informed him that actually it was Mothering Sunday (aka Mother’s Day) to which he replied…

‘Oh, is it!’

Then came his question that actually really got me thinking for the duration of the evening!

‘Why?’ He asked!

Followed by…

‘What’s the point? Why do mothers need to have a special day? Why don’t we celebrate our son’s by having a. Son Day?’

‘Because mothers do lots for their children and its a day for their children to appreciate this’ I reminded him! To which his response was…

‘But you tell me I must appreciate you always’

Yes… I Give him that, he has a point!

Then he went on to ask…

‘Mum, honestly… Do you not see that its just a way for everyone to make money!’

You see, that’s the joys of having a child on the spectrum! Such logical little thinkers who don’t really dress anything up to make it sound pretty.

I was then informed that unless his dad had brought me a card then maybe I shouldn’t expect to much as I know how much he struggles with drawing and colouring.

He means no offence… honestly.His just saying it how it is! Actually I wouldn’t expect anything less!

Does it upset me that he fails to notice that his sister is busy in the next room preparing a work of art with glue and tissue paper? Does it make me sad that his all zoned out chatting to his online friends about the world of Mindcraft rather than showering his mother in Mother’s Day kisses? No! OK, may it used to a little, but it doesn’t anymore! Why? Because without sounding corny he is a gift in himself, all my children are.

Little man has been off school a couple of days this week with the flu and I normally find that school is the place that gives him those gentle little reminders when such occasions as these arise.

I remember when he was in primary school and every year when they made cards to mark the celebration of Mother’s Day, little man’s cards would always feature trains or buses, normally with a stick man and an arrow with the words ‘Me.. Driving the bus’ spilled out above it. I remember standing talking to a mother as we waited for our children to be released at the end of the school day. Her child came rushing out and almost forced a card into her hand. I can clearly remember the design, one that displayed an almost 3D image of pretty Daffodils. The centres of each flower made with sections of a painted egg cartons, petals made of yellow tissue paper and pipe cleaners proudly displayed as storks. Little man didn’t run out and hand me a card he was to much in a rush to get home to his sanctuary (aka bedroom). By now myself, this mother and our children were now walking side by side out of the school gates when she suddenly asked.. ‘Where is your card’ I was half convinced I didn’t have one but before I could say anything, little man had rooted around in his book bag and had now presented me with one! I smiled… that proud mummy smile as I looked a my card that of course displayed a somewhat different image from that of the other mothers card! Yes… A little stick man, only this time, that little stick man was driving a train as opposed to a bus.

“Does mummy drive trains” the mother asked my little man in her cheeky giggly tone.

Now I can’t quite remember his response, we are talking back when he was around 7 years old and still in the infants section of primary school. What I do remember was that his response was one of the “No Nonsense Type” as he rightfully pointed out that my hair was much longer than that of the hair on his stick man and the important factor that mum wouldn’t know if she liked driving trains as she has never driven one! Mum can’t even drive a car!

The mother smiled before she went on to wrongfully state that “Mothers” prefer flowers for Mother’s Day!

I was quick to correct her mistake when announcing that actually this “Mother” prefers trains!

You see little man wasn’t really one to pick up a pencil and start to draw unless prompted to do so. He struggled with his fine motor skills and even though he was yet to receive an official diagnosis of Aspergers, I’d always known that their was something stopping him from expressing himself on paper. So, the fact that he’d actually made this card for me and drawn it by himself was actually better than that of a hundred Daffodils made from egg cartons and tissue paper.

Every year up in till year 4 of his primary school years, he made me this card (always almost the same). Sadly once in year 4 things really started changing. It was this year major concerns began to arise. It was the year of illegal exclusions, disability discrimination and constant battles with both the school and LEA. My little man just stopped picking up a pencil/pen whatsoever. He wrote less then a sentence in a whole school year and carried on this way in till I removed him in year 5. It was only once he started with a one 2 one tutor instead of attending school (at this point no school were willing to take him) that slowly he began writing and drawing again.

I guess that my point is that each one of my three beautiful children all make me proud to be a mother. For us there is no traditional way to celebrate a Mothering Sunday… In our house we tend to do things the Aspergers way like we do almost any other day!

Happy Mothers Day. Xxx

20130310-061430.jpg

DON’T GIVE UP

7 Nov

I sit here today and I write you this post, a post that shares a very important message!

Don’t Give Up!

Too many parents tell me about the fight they currently face to obtain a diagnosis for their child. They tell me how others see them as uncaring because they are so eagerly chasing a label, one so many, wrongly claim to be unnecessary.

They tell me they just feel like giving up. They state the professionals have suggested they just wait a couple more years, see how things go!

They tell me they are tired, worn and lost.

I tell them it was the same for me… I state how I experienced the doubt, self judgement and sleepless nights! Then I tell them where we are at today!

Yes, I was tired… I don’t think I realised just how much till things had settled. I remember feeling that my concerns were looked upon as nothing but parental paranoia.

I remember wanting to scream out loud “Just shut up and listen” No, correction, I remember shouting this statement more times than I care to remember.

I questioned my own concerns. I felt that maybe I was going mad or worse that it was just me being a mother who was unable to do the job of parenting correctly.

I remember watching the months turn into years as I continued my battle, one that was just to get my foot in the Child Psychologist door.

In between there was issues, ones that turned into significant difficulties. More importantly, difficulties that could have been avoided or at least decreased in scale, if someone had just listened.

I did all I could do, yet it never felt enough.

School attendance fell, school phobia developed, but again, no one listened. Court cases and school attendance officers made my life more difficult and the fact I was found guilty and fined… Well, that just lead to my depression, lack of trust in the British justice system and great weariness in the operations of the LEA and everybody in it.

You sit there and think “Oh God, there really is no answer, no solution, no way to make them listen!” and as I started therapy I remember the endless tears that required my therapist to fetch more tissues. I remember the relief I felt, just to have someone… Sit… Just sit and listen.

Over the course of the battle, I saw my child become a target form both children and adults. I watched him change in personality as he tried to become someone he wasn’t… Someone who he thought he needed to be in order to be excepted.

Life is better now… I didn’t give up!

Little man has a diagnosis and this later lead to appropriate schooling and a much happier child!

You are the parent, you know your child. Don’t let anybody tell you differently.

Don’t give up!

%d bloggers like this: