I wish I could hit the rewind button. Not to have another child, mind you, but to travel back in time and experience a genuine do-over with my little one. It’s one of those tough realities of parenting a child with autism that I often think about in silence. Why bother? After all, it’s not like I can actually go back in time. Plus, wishing for a do-over feels like it undermines the incredible progress my child has made and who he truly is.
I often find myself longing for those baby days when ignorance was bliss. Back then, I had no clue about the challenges that lay ahead. I wish I could believe that sleepless nights would eventually end and that I wouldn’t still be changing wet sheets before I’ve even had my morning coffee (which, let’s be real, has become a constant throughout my day).
Sometimes, I wish my child could be on the same playing field as other kids his age. I forget that while other toddlers are racing around, my son is still happily content with his old Thomas the Tank Engine trains. It’s a bittersweet feeling; I love that he still calls me “Mommy” and wants to hold my hand, but it stings when I see other kids playing games that he doesn’t quite engage in yet. I find myself wondering if those kids are just really advanced, but honestly, I have no idea what a kid his age should be doing.
I didn’t sign up to dive into the world of acronyms like ASD, ADD, or IEP. I just wanted to enjoy simple moments, like sharing a bowl of Alphabits cereal and hearing him mimic the sounds I made when he was a toddler. Instead, I’m left with the reality of him tossing them at the dog (that poor pup always had a clean floor around the high chair). It breaks my heart that he’s started to say words only to lose them later on.
Then there are those pesky functioning labels, which seem entirely subjective. My son can perfectly replicate musical notes on a piano, but he struggles with basics like tying his shoes. It leaves me wondering where he fits in. People often panic over labels, yet we still need some way to describe our kids. Maybe someone will reinvent the labels someday, with a catchy tagline like, “Same Great Autism Taste. Now with Less Stimming!”
I’d love to not appear like a helicopter parent. I wish I could casually show up to places instead of scouting them first for potential safety hazards. Did you know some parents just drop their kids off at birthday parties? Imagine that! I’d love to relax at the beach, but my little one has his eyes set on the ocean, and that’s just not happening. Some parents actually bring books to read while their kids play. How intriguing!
I can wish for a do-over and feel guilty about it simultaneously. Those feelings can coexist within me. I long for those blissful moments, knowing that they would soon give way to challenges. Perhaps if I were more aware, I could find peace a little sooner.
I wouldn’t mind a day where the judgments are easier to bear. Who cares if I didn’t make homemade organic baby food? He ate, and he’s just fine! The pressures of new parenting seem like a walk in the park compared to what I face now. At the end of the day, the other toddlers didn’t care about my choices, even if their parents did. I recognize that someone with autism might read my words and feel hurt, and I sincerely apologize if I’ve caused any pain. Nonetheless, my feelings are valid, and I’m allowed to feel my own struggles.
I can’t help but wish for that do-over. Maybe I’d savor those early moments a bit more. Perhaps I would be less focused on diaper brands and other trivialities. I might hug him a little tighter and sing him one more verse of “Ba Ba Black Sheep” while he slept peacefully in my arms. Maybe I would even invest in Ore Ida fries if I had known how crucial they would become for us.
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Summary:
In this heartfelt piece, the author reflects on the desire for a do-over in parenting a child with autism, grappling with feelings of longing for simpler times while recognizing the unique journey of their child. The piece navigates the challenges of labels, societal expectations, and the bittersweet nature of progress, all while maintaining a humorous yet earnest tone.