I will preface this post by saying that I love my children, but this post is necessary for me to post this post today because I’m having a rough day.
I wish that I had a day where I was not dealing with a disrespectful fourteen year old. I wish that I could jump into a time machine and zap back to age ten and tell her that before she decides to go the land of Oz, please keep in mind that her mom might not have the energy for the drama. I wish that I lived in a life that did not require reviewing IEP’s and accommodations on a regular basis, making educational decisions beyond what pencils to buy, books to get from the book fair, and what to do next on my wonderful bucket list with my wonderful sexy husband with the body of Channing Tatum, the height of Julius Peppers, and the complexion of Shemar Moore. I wish I had a job where I worked 40 hours a week with benefits. I wish that I had a person tell me when I was younger the importance of saving for a rainy day so that I would have a small nest egg to deal with instead of $2.36 in the bank until Tuesday morning. I wish that I had the patience of a saint. I wish that all of my friends could go on cruises once a year. I wish that I had a life free of autism and mood disorders and I could come and go freely with three children that did not need constant supervision. I wish that I lived in a nice four bedroom house by the ocean during the summer. I wish that I had infinite wishes that were real. I wish that my life were some what close to normal. I wish that my friends that I had before Autism were still my friends now. I sometimes really miss their brand of normal. I wish that my Aspie’s time clock would let her sleep beyond six am. I wish that my she had an off button for her appetite. I wish that my son could hold a conversation that was free of scripting. I wish that right now I didn’t cry so much. I wish that I was not so raw and vulnerable. I wish I knew at 25 what I know at 33. I wish that racism didn’t exist. I wish, I wish, I wish.
Reality is that IEP’s will control my world until my children are 21. I have a child that is brilliant and her body is in constant motion. I live with autism and a mood disorder. I live some days in perpetual sadness for my children. I put on a great face and smile it off, but inside I’m crumbling sometimes. I do what ever work, when ever I can to make sure that ends are met. I live a life that is nowhere near what people would envision as normal. I go to school and work, and do home, and struggle, and fight, and claw, and cry, and weep for the life that I do not have. My wishes go unanswered because this is the life that God intended for me. There is no time machine, there is no Genie in a magic lamp, there’s just the life that I live. There’s just the moments when I am propelled forward into the abyss with people who think that I have nothing to complain about. I stopped complaining years ago and now I just speak so that people have awareness of what it takes for me to get up out of the bed everyday.
So no matter how hard I wish, no matter what I dream, no matter what I envision for my children and I, right now, we are here, we are surviving and every time I wish, I get a hug and a kiss from a child that I was told would never talk or say I love you. It’s a reminder that my life is what it is and sometimes that my wishes might seem selfish. It is where it is and I can not change it. Nothing that I dream of, perfect husband, house by the coast, and awesome job with benefits, it’s not my season. So all I can do is pray that I make it to my season in one piece. So though I wish, it is my time to wait and be patient and remember that life is a marathon, not a sprint.