Robot Tea

I have been horribly neglectful of this poor blog.

What have I been doing? Well, nurturing my new baby .

And trying to figure out what the hell to do about H1N1.

And wondering when things are going to come together with regards to funding for Noel to start getting some real help.

And wondering why I ever thought a two week long semester break from school in October was a good thing. (the first week was horrible, the second was fine as Noel attended day camp)

And painting bones onto Noel’s skeleton costume for Halloween.

And fighting off.. something.. that makes me kinda sore and tired and a bit coughy.

And treating Holland’s ear infection (and being completely stunned by our family doctor, who acted like I had not previously told him about Noel’s diagnosis and was totally onboard. WTF?)

And turning 28.

And trying, and failing to catch up on all the blogs I read.

And trying to remember to breathe.

In August, my mom sent me a copy of the May/June 2008 AAMFT Family Therapy magazine, which was focused on autism.

She sent it inside a gift bag that contained Holland’s first birthday gift, and so I happened to pull it out of the bag in front of all of the party guests, realize what it was, and quickly cover the word ‘autism’ with my hand when I held it up and made a silly joke.

Then I placed it, face down, on the desk in the living room and ignored it. I would glance at it from time to time, but didn’t feel like I could pick it up.

A few weeks ago, while we waited for Kyle to return from a corporate function, the kids settled in watching a DVD from the library, ham, cheddar and brocolli quiche bubbling away in the oven, I started to flip through it. There is a lot to wade through, including dozens of website resources that I may or may not get to anytime soon.

But what stood out for me, today, was the article by Chantal Sicile-Kira, called The Affects of Autism in Families and Partner Relationships.

It has been estimated that the divorce rate is in the 80% range in families with children who have an autism spectrum disorder.

Eighty percent. Eight Zero. I am stunned at the number at the same time that I am not surprised. The challenges of parenting Noel are extraordinary. There is no time alone, no emotional energy left at the end of the day to offer one another. There are sharp voices and anger. So much anger.

But we’re in this together.

Last weekend we celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary. And I wanted to revisit our vows, just to remind me.

I will remember that love is not only an emotion, but an action, and I will love actively as a result.

I will do the work required to honour this commitment, making decisions that honour both of us and sacrifices where I can.

I will always value the difference you make in my life and never take our constant presence for granted.

I will laugh with you joyously, I will cry with you honestly, I will listen to your confessions and answer your questions truthfully. I will bare every part of myself to you.

I will respect your beliefs and ideas about spirituality and God, understanding that faith is personal.

I will always remember that you complete me, and have made me who I am today.

I will strive to make our home a place where communication is open, new ideas are welcome, respect is never an afterthought, and where love is evident and ever present.

I will turn to you for strength when I am weak, and will give you my strength when you are in need.

I will respect the promise of fidelity that is implicit with this marriage.

I will know that death will not part us, for to live in the hearts of those we love is never to do die.

I will love you, unfailingly, each and every day.

I tend to this blog similarly to the way I’ve been parenting lately – largely absent, with occassional bursts of inspiration to do better.

Yes, I will admit it, as hard as it is to put out there in the universe, that most times when I am with my children, doing the biggest, most important job of my life, I escape to a place inside my head that is quieter, and calmer, and not so filled with.. with what? Disappointment, maybe? Whining, certainly. And not nearly so many free flowing bodily fluids.

I know that Kyle notices when I have zoned out. I worry that Noel and Holland notice as well, that it will irreparably damage their ability to parent later, that I’m not attaching properly, not creating a good bond. But truth be told, some days I just have no idea how else to do it. If I stay in the moment, I will simply be unable to do this.

Today we went to playgroup, at the bookstore. It was lovely. But Holland was fussy, angry, screaming and crying over not getting her way, and Noel peed his pants, right down his legs where it pooled in his shoes, and I was embarassed. Not of the pee, because I don’t even think anyone noticed. But because of my lack of grace in handling all of it. The other mothers seem to barely break a sweat, and there I am, hauling Holland back once more, huffing and puffing, or attempting to help Noel take off his wet underwear while balancing Holland on one hip in the bookstore bathroom.

I worry that I am cold. That I am hardening my heart for some reason, against my own offspring. Like loving them hurts just too freakin’ much, especially because this is not how I imagined it. I was fool, and I saw something so different than this in my mind. I know I’ve written about this before, but truly, it’s what I feel. Ripped off, maybe. Certainly I feel sorry for myself, and I know it’s ridiculous, and you are all free to call me on it. The logical side of my brain can list off my blessings, can feel amazed at the beauty of my children, and all that they add to my life. The emotional side? Angry. Sad. Unsure. Zoned out.