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Pass the salt please...
Life, sometimes needs us to take it with a pinch of salt, or a block.....and sometimes it's harder to do than others.
This past week has been a really tough one for me, to be honest. I try hard not to let what other people say or do affect me too much and I rarely let it actually change the way I live my life but lumme if it isn't almost impossible to stop the words or thoughts getting in and screwing with your heart at times.
Tomorrow Isaac goes back to nursery and Seth will be going back to school, into year one, big boy school, no more special playground, no more 'babying'. This is the real Mc Coy. He is all of 38 inches and weighs 30lbs on a good day with his shoes on. He is beyond excited to be in with the big kids and I am excited for him.Terrified for me!
His sight is so bad in his eye now that we have to put in drops to temporarily block the sight in his good eye, this means that he will be pretty much close to blind until the weak eye takes over and strengthens up. I hate this ... he loves school, he is doing so beautifully and is a star, will he find it all too hard if he is having to strain to see anything and everything? Will he give up and fall behind and then begin to hate even going?
We have to do his because if we don't he will lose the sight in his weak eye for good, so to be hard on him now is to be kind in the long run. Tough being a mummy sometimes. BUT how great is it that we have the healthcare and the knowledge and means to work with improving his sight? Yes, it's good being a mum really.
Isaac, oh my Isaac. 6 weeks of blissful progress, talking and talking and playing. Happy boy. Funny boy. Forget he has a problem boy, because he has been with his mummy and daddy and hasn't had to go anywhere or see anyone that threatens his safe and comfy world. Tomorrow that all stops again and he is back into the world with a bang, 3 hours in the morning instead of 2 in the afternoon at nursery, every day. The building is a new one, the toys are all new. The teachers are the same and the kids are the same.
I took him in today, while there weren't any children and let him look around and see the newness of it all, he played with the toys and loved the play house. He didn't even look at the 2 teachers that were there. He says he can't see them, can't talk to them, doesn't need them or friends. Any attempt to engage him in conversation resulted in the old head turning " mum mum mum" My son is autistic, he does have a problem, I can't pretend he doesn't. Very tough being a mummy sometimes. BUT how blessed are we that WE get to see the joyful happy boy, hear his sweet voice and listen to him chatting to his brothers when so many autistic children are locked in their little world always, those parents never experience what we do at home.....yes, pretty good being a mummy really.
And the old chestnut....skip this one if it makes you lose the will to live and groan 'here she goes again', remember this is for me to get it all out and try to make sense of what is happening in my increasingly muddled brain.
All this horror in New Orleans. Such terror and sadness, tragedy and misery, never mind the fear and loss. Wouldn't you think that people, especially Christians, would be passionate about what they can do, what their Lord would expect of them? I know it, so why the endless speculation about how the gay people caused it? I'm not going to go into my opinions on it because I've been there and done that. I am going to say that I find it impossible not to take it personally and for every 'wicked' and 'deserving of damnation' gay person I hear condemned, all I can see or think about is my son.
Why is it so clear to see how wicked Hitler was for trying to decide who should live or die purely for one aspect of their lives, yet it's acceptable for the people who spout love and charity the most to scream from the rooftops that homosexuality deserves such judgement and retribution?
Why should MY SON deserve such hatred from people he has never met, who, I have to say HE would be the first to help should they need it?
Just as I want to get in the face of every tutting old lady who doesn't get a sweet smile from my beautiful boy but is treated to his fear filled face before it turns away, Just as I want to grab everyone Seth may need and say " he can't see very well, please please help him..don't let him get hurt, or teased or cross because he can't do everything...I want to face up to every single person who would dare to suggest or even think that my son, my first born deserves all kinds of hideous terror or misery because he loves another man. I want to make them feel even a tiny amount of the pain, humiliation, fear, misery that they cause so many people and their mothers ( and fathers of course, good ones that is, not the stupid ones who bleat about it all being a phase and let's not talk about it and it'll go away, idiots) Not very christian, am I, today? Well that'll be because it is really, really tough being a mother sometimes. BUT, I am beyond thrilled to be this man's mother. I know that he is beloved and great and a blessing to this world, I do really know that ignorance isn't bliss at all and that anyone willing to pass up the chance to know and love someone purely because one aspect of their life is worrying, or unknown, or misunderstood, whatever that one thing may be, is missing so many chances for growth and love that they are only actually punishing themselves. Foolish people. Yes it's actually pretty great being a mum really.
This past week has been a really tough one for me, to be honest. I try hard not to let what other people say or do affect me too much and I rarely let it actually change the way I live my life but lumme if it isn't almost impossible to stop the words or thoughts getting in and screwing with your heart at times.
Tomorrow Isaac goes back to nursery and Seth will be going back to school, into year one, big boy school, no more special playground, no more 'babying'. This is the real Mc Coy. He is all of 38 inches and weighs 30lbs on a good day with his shoes on. He is beyond excited to be in with the big kids and I am excited for him.Terrified for me!
His sight is so bad in his eye now that we have to put in drops to temporarily block the sight in his good eye, this means that he will be pretty much close to blind until the weak eye takes over and strengthens up. I hate this ... he loves school, he is doing so beautifully and is a star, will he find it all too hard if he is having to strain to see anything and everything? Will he give up and fall behind and then begin to hate even going?
We have to do his because if we don't he will lose the sight in his weak eye for good, so to be hard on him now is to be kind in the long run. Tough being a mummy sometimes. BUT how great is it that we have the healthcare and the knowledge and means to work with improving his sight? Yes, it's good being a mum really.
Isaac, oh my Isaac. 6 weeks of blissful progress, talking and talking and playing. Happy boy. Funny boy. Forget he has a problem boy, because he has been with his mummy and daddy and hasn't had to go anywhere or see anyone that threatens his safe and comfy world. Tomorrow that all stops again and he is back into the world with a bang, 3 hours in the morning instead of 2 in the afternoon at nursery, every day. The building is a new one, the toys are all new. The teachers are the same and the kids are the same.
I took him in today, while there weren't any children and let him look around and see the newness of it all, he played with the toys and loved the play house. He didn't even look at the 2 teachers that were there. He says he can't see them, can't talk to them, doesn't need them or friends. Any attempt to engage him in conversation resulted in the old head turning " mum mum mum" My son is autistic, he does have a problem, I can't pretend he doesn't. Very tough being a mummy sometimes. BUT how blessed are we that WE get to see the joyful happy boy, hear his sweet voice and listen to him chatting to his brothers when so many autistic children are locked in their little world always, those parents never experience what we do at home.....yes, pretty good being a mummy really.
And the old chestnut....skip this one if it makes you lose the will to live and groan 'here she goes again', remember this is for me to get it all out and try to make sense of what is happening in my increasingly muddled brain.
All this horror in New Orleans. Such terror and sadness, tragedy and misery, never mind the fear and loss. Wouldn't you think that people, especially Christians, would be passionate about what they can do, what their Lord would expect of them? I know it, so why the endless speculation about how the gay people caused it? I'm not going to go into my opinions on it because I've been there and done that. I am going to say that I find it impossible not to take it personally and for every 'wicked' and 'deserving of damnation' gay person I hear condemned, all I can see or think about is my son.
Why is it so clear to see how wicked Hitler was for trying to decide who should live or die purely for one aspect of their lives, yet it's acceptable for the people who spout love and charity the most to scream from the rooftops that homosexuality deserves such judgement and retribution?
Why should MY SON deserve such hatred from people he has never met, who, I have to say HE would be the first to help should they need it?
Just as I want to get in the face of every tutting old lady who doesn't get a sweet smile from my beautiful boy but is treated to his fear filled face before it turns away, Just as I want to grab everyone Seth may need and say " he can't see very well, please please help him..don't let him get hurt, or teased or cross because he can't do everything...I want to face up to every single person who would dare to suggest or even think that my son, my first born deserves all kinds of hideous terror or misery because he loves another man. I want to make them feel even a tiny amount of the pain, humiliation, fear, misery that they cause so many people and their mothers ( and fathers of course, good ones that is, not the stupid ones who bleat about it all being a phase and let's not talk about it and it'll go away, idiots) Not very christian, am I, today? Well that'll be because it is really, really tough being a mother sometimes. BUT, I am beyond thrilled to be this man's mother. I know that he is beloved and great and a blessing to this world, I do really know that ignorance isn't bliss at all and that anyone willing to pass up the chance to know and love someone purely because one aspect of their life is worrying, or unknown, or misunderstood, whatever that one thing may be, is missing so many chances for growth and love that they are only actually punishing themselves. Foolish people. Yes it's actually pretty great being a mum really.
posted by The other me | 11:12 pm
7 Comments:
Pinch of salt and a big ol' margarita!!
Gosh you make some yummy looking boys!!
Seth is such a little mite - only Duncan's size, if that, and almost a year older too. Good things come in little packages though, and as for Isaac, he is a joy and a treasure beyond all measure, because you are privileged to catch the glimpses of the REAL Isaac. the laughing, chatty, happy Isaac.
Dan is a sweetheart, that should serve as a template for other men in this world to follow! and although you didn't mention him I know you are equally proud of Jordan too.
...Jenn ..I'm proud of all of them, it's just a bit heavenly that Jordan, as an adult is just as he was as a little boy, he just does what he does, laughs while he does it and gets on with it all without so much as a by or leave. Ahhh thank heavens for the quiet and independant ones!!
Oh Helen. I just love you...and your boys. They are all so precious. (And that beautiful daughter of yours as well.) I know you are so protective of them.
I wanted you to know that I agree with you about the whole gay thing. People are stupid...and unfortunately they will never get pas that stupidity. I am sorry that you and your precious children have to deal with others ignorance. I wrote to you on my blog (just a little snippet) letting you know that I agree. I am right there with you about these people that will blame a natural disaster on people. As if they had anything to do with it. ugh.
Big Hugs!!
I just saw this and it made me think of you. It's long, but worth the read....
Deb
Thoughts From the Middle of the Night
by Pam Wilson
When my son Evan was born and I was told he had Down Syndrome, I did not cry for a long time. But when I saw a girl walking hand in hand with her little brother to the viewing window of the hospital nursery, I could not hold back my tears. I knew my daughter would never walk with her little brother that way. I knew he would never experience the small pleasures of life I always took for granted. In those minutes my heart was broken and I was overcome with sadness for both my children.
Now, almost six years later, I am filled with pity for the misinformed, heartbroken woman who sat crying in that cold hospital corridor, without hopes, dreams, or fight in her. She was wrong about so many things. That part of me continues to be reeducated: I am grateful for every new lesson I learn.
I am thankful to that woman. She found she did have some fight in her. She was not the first mother to fall in love with her newly-diagnosed child. She learned of brave and stubborn mothers who put themselves forward in the media to spread a message of hope. She let the memories of those mothers stir her into action. I shall always revere the mothers and fathers who reached out a hand, and who built a foundation of support, information, and resources for women like me to draw upon. What they did for their children transformed my son’s life. They continue, still looking forward, always reaching back to help others.
I still reach back to the woman I was. I hold her gently and wish that in her grief she could hear me. “It’s not like that. Please don’t lose yourself in that sadness. Hold on, wait and see. So much of that grief is over things that are just not true.” I know she has to sit there crying, and I don’t know how long. I will wait with her and be a friend.
Evan will be six years old in a month. His sister Zoë is seven and a half. When they are not arguing ferociously or ignoring one another, as siblings do, they are the best of friends. They help one another scheme, and protect each other from harm. Both have argued seriously how life for the whole family would be better if the other disappeared, leaving an “only child.” Each misses the other when they are separated overnight. I rarely think about the sister and brother walking toward the nursery viewing window, but sometimes when I see my two walking hand in hand down the beach or up a hiking trail, I think of the poor, sad woman I was that day.
I can’t imagine life without my son. Sometimes when he barrels into my bedroom early Saturday morning to tell me a great cartoon is on, I wonder what life would be like without little boys. But I get up, and find he has quite good taste in cartoons. I think of him in his preschool days, chin raised in pride over some fabulous work of art, like the turkey he pasted up when he was three. I remember him seeing his good buddy from class, Terrell, at a school
carnival, and how their eyes met. They squealed in unison and ran to one another like sweethearts in a perfume commercial. I enjoy the story his teacher relayed to me about how, during a cookie-baking class, he slyly nibbled his chocolate chips instead of saving them for the cookie. I am glad every day to have this son. The world is a better place with him in it.
Evan is not a Down Syndrome “superstar,” but I wanted him to have the experience of a regular kindergarten. He loves school and has a wonderful teacher. His classmates are charming and funny and bright. But I was afraid of their parents. Evan has missed some fine opportunities because many people are as inexperienced and uninformed as I was six years ago. I believe Evan needs an edge before he can participate successfully in mainstream activities, and that edge is casual acceptance.
Last night was parent night at my son’s kindergarten class. I was overwhelmed by the relaxed but purposeful way different parents let me know that they accept my son simply as a child in the kindergarten class. Their hands reach back to comfort the heartbroken woman in the hospital corridor. They comfort her in ways that I cannot. I thank every person who has brought us all this far. Thank you so much.
You're an inspiration... to keep your head when faced with so many challenges ... I am awed and grateful to know you!
The world is a much better place for people like you.
I can't help you on the Christian bit, I'm not one myself, I can only say that Dan is perfect just as he is and condemning others for their beliefs or orientations is IMHO far more sinful than sleeping with someone of the same gender.
Hugs Hugs and more Hugs
Julie
Deb..thankyou, that IS beautiful. Thankyou.
Today was both heartbreaking and amazing. Isaac screamed, he held his breath until he passed out, he was truly terrified and to walk away while his wailing followed me was horrible, when I collected him and heard that although it had taken a long time for him to calm down, he had eaten snack ( a banana) spoken to THREE people and played with Matthew I felt we had both climbed and conquered the emotional equivilant to Everest.
He is porus of himself and says tomorrow he will cry only a 'lidda bit' Who would change a thing, except to have him not feel that level of fear.
It sounds like Isaac did pretty good for him. :) I will happy if Zachary gets that far his first real day.
You are a great Mom Helen. And the world is a nicer place to live in with your children in it.
I honestly haven't heard anything about people believing gay people are the reason for the hurricane. Sadly, I don't doubt that people are saying it though.
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