Why I'm his mother
Denial is more than just a river in Egypt. It is a lifeline. I swam in it for a long while until I was forced to climb out of that warm, comforting water. Every time I think I'm finally dry I discover that I need another towel because I've soaked through the one I'm using.
I put my feet in the "water" when Richard and I talked about having children. We knew we wanted at least two, maybe more. I had always worked with children professionally and while Richard hadn't, watching him with our nieces and nephews \ was all the evidence I needed that he'd be a phenominal father.
We talked about baby names and birth order. We discussed how we'd raise them and all the things we admired about the other parents we knew. Since we're both Jewish, we knew spirituality would be part of their lives. We'd expose them to sports, instruments and help them with their homework. I would be the english tutor and he would handle science and history. We'd get a tutor for math. Most importantly we hoped they'd be good people who were kind to others.
We'd play with our kids. We'd take them on adventures and snuggle them whenever they'd let us. We'd encourage independence but keep watchful eyes on them. We wouldn't expect perfection, but hoped they would have the commitment to follow their dreams.
What if everything didn't work out as planned? What if one of our children had anger issues and freaked out when things didn't go his way or when someone accidentally bumped into him, or told him they didn't want to be his friend? What if other parents looked at us with judgement in their eyes? What if we invited kids to his birthday parties and he was left off their birthday list?
What if one of our children has special needs?
Nope, that never entered our minds. Does anyone think about their future and say, "I really hope I have a child with special needs, that would be wonderful."
A friend said recently that she'd never known me to be in denial about Charlie. She said I was always concerned that something was wrong. She didn't know about the dreams Richard and I shared before becoming parents. The minute you allow yourself to believe that you know without a doubt how something will play out, you are in trouble. By not acknowledging the possibility that there will be curve balls that may completely change the course of your future, you are in denial before anything has even happened.
In the past year Charlie has been through one comprehensive evaluation by the school district, and another occupational therapy evaluation through a private agency recommended by a friend. He goes to OT once a week to help with his sensory integration issues, but we suspect he needs psychotherapy as well. He loves things that are bloody and gross. He is currently obsessed with "Chuckie" and shark attacks. I asked Richard if he was obsessed with such things as a child and he said that he was but there wasn't easy access the way there is now. There was no ability to record shows on our t.v.s without our parents knowing. You Tube didn't exist and almost no one had a home computer. If they did, children didn't know how to use them the way they do today.
While we can't make him "unsee" what he has seen we can do a better job of limiting his access. That usually helps his memory fade and he moves away from that obsession. That is of course until the next obsession comes along that may be even more disturbing than the last.
Thankfully Charlie has an amazing kindergarten teacher who loves him with all his issues and who tells me that Charlie is a sweet, kind boy. He isn't malicious or bullying, he is reactionary. If Charlie gets physical with another child it's because the other child threw the first punch verbally. I can't control other children, all I can do is help my son. I can't force other parents to have him over or include him in their parties. From their perspective they are just protecting their children from a child who talks about things they don't want their children to learn and who might hit or kick at any moment. I don't blame them, although I do wish that some of them would show compassion towards Charlie and towards us.
As an eight year old I volunteered at a camp for children with special needs. When I was in middle school a girl moved in up the street who was autistic. She was obsessed with Ricky Schroder and Hirve Villachaize (Tatoo from Fantasy Island). Her mom asked my parents if I would go spend time with her. My parents insisted that I do it and I WAS NOT happy about it. She was a sweet person and I've often wondered what happened to her.
When I relayed these experiences to a colleague at work she said, "That's why your Charlie's mother." This was the first sign I was given that one of my children had chosen me. I owe it to Charlie to come out of denial, he's counting on me for that. How will he get what he needs otherwise? His little soul was wise when he entered my womb, he understood that even though it would be hard for me I would know what to do. I would make sure that even as he struggled he would have my love and support every step of the way. He put himself in my arms and I can't let him down.
I can't always protect him. He may go through all of elementary school with only one friend. This probably doesn't bother him as much as it bothers me. All I can do is be there for him when he does well and when he fails. Thankfully he's bright and does quite well in a structured classroom. Hopefully that success will help him get to where he wants to go when it's time for him to be on his own one day.
For now I can only watch and learn. I take cues from him as to what he needs. Richard and I are raising him the way we thought we would, just with a slightly different road map. His sister is adjusting little by little. She knows her brother doesn't understand things that she intuitively does. Sometimes she gets embarrassed by his behavior. Lately she's been saying how cute he is and that she loves him. This helps me sleep at night. I am learning from her too.
I put my feet in the "water" when Richard and I talked about having children. We knew we wanted at least two, maybe more. I had always worked with children professionally and while Richard hadn't, watching him with our nieces and nephews \ was all the evidence I needed that he'd be a phenominal father.
We talked about baby names and birth order. We discussed how we'd raise them and all the things we admired about the other parents we knew. Since we're both Jewish, we knew spirituality would be part of their lives. We'd expose them to sports, instruments and help them with their homework. I would be the english tutor and he would handle science and history. We'd get a tutor for math. Most importantly we hoped they'd be good people who were kind to others.
We'd play with our kids. We'd take them on adventures and snuggle them whenever they'd let us. We'd encourage independence but keep watchful eyes on them. We wouldn't expect perfection, but hoped they would have the commitment to follow their dreams.
What if everything didn't work out as planned? What if one of our children had anger issues and freaked out when things didn't go his way or when someone accidentally bumped into him, or told him they didn't want to be his friend? What if other parents looked at us with judgement in their eyes? What if we invited kids to his birthday parties and he was left off their birthday list?
What if one of our children has special needs?
Nope, that never entered our minds. Does anyone think about their future and say, "I really hope I have a child with special needs, that would be wonderful."
A friend said recently that she'd never known me to be in denial about Charlie. She said I was always concerned that something was wrong. She didn't know about the dreams Richard and I shared before becoming parents. The minute you allow yourself to believe that you know without a doubt how something will play out, you are in trouble. By not acknowledging the possibility that there will be curve balls that may completely change the course of your future, you are in denial before anything has even happened.
In the past year Charlie has been through one comprehensive evaluation by the school district, and another occupational therapy evaluation through a private agency recommended by a friend. He goes to OT once a week to help with his sensory integration issues, but we suspect he needs psychotherapy as well. He loves things that are bloody and gross. He is currently obsessed with "Chuckie" and shark attacks. I asked Richard if he was obsessed with such things as a child and he said that he was but there wasn't easy access the way there is now. There was no ability to record shows on our t.v.s without our parents knowing. You Tube didn't exist and almost no one had a home computer. If they did, children didn't know how to use them the way they do today.
While we can't make him "unsee" what he has seen we can do a better job of limiting his access. That usually helps his memory fade and he moves away from that obsession. That is of course until the next obsession comes along that may be even more disturbing than the last.
Thankfully Charlie has an amazing kindergarten teacher who loves him with all his issues and who tells me that Charlie is a sweet, kind boy. He isn't malicious or bullying, he is reactionary. If Charlie gets physical with another child it's because the other child threw the first punch verbally. I can't control other children, all I can do is help my son. I can't force other parents to have him over or include him in their parties. From their perspective they are just protecting their children from a child who talks about things they don't want their children to learn and who might hit or kick at any moment. I don't blame them, although I do wish that some of them would show compassion towards Charlie and towards us.
As an eight year old I volunteered at a camp for children with special needs. When I was in middle school a girl moved in up the street who was autistic. She was obsessed with Ricky Schroder and Hirve Villachaize (Tatoo from Fantasy Island). Her mom asked my parents if I would go spend time with her. My parents insisted that I do it and I WAS NOT happy about it. She was a sweet person and I've often wondered what happened to her.
When I relayed these experiences to a colleague at work she said, "That's why your Charlie's mother." This was the first sign I was given that one of my children had chosen me. I owe it to Charlie to come out of denial, he's counting on me for that. How will he get what he needs otherwise? His little soul was wise when he entered my womb, he understood that even though it would be hard for me I would know what to do. I would make sure that even as he struggled he would have my love and support every step of the way. He put himself in my arms and I can't let him down.
I can't always protect him. He may go through all of elementary school with only one friend. This probably doesn't bother him as much as it bothers me. All I can do is be there for him when he does well and when he fails. Thankfully he's bright and does quite well in a structured classroom. Hopefully that success will help him get to where he wants to go when it's time for him to be on his own one day.
For now I can only watch and learn. I take cues from him as to what he needs. Richard and I are raising him the way we thought we would, just with a slightly different road map. His sister is adjusting little by little. She knows her brother doesn't understand things that she intuitively does. Sometimes she gets embarrassed by his behavior. Lately she's been saying how cute he is and that she loves him. This helps me sleep at night. I am learning from her too.
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