Starting off...

Thank you to Michele and Chandra for telling me to do this... :)

I swear other blog posts will be funnier than this...I felt like I needed to start this today and it is unfortunately on a more serious note. There is some sarcasm in here somewhere. It wouldn't be me without sarcasm.

I'm standing here at my kitchen island in my brand new house looking out my giant back windows at the river and the rolling hills of Wyoming. We've been here in our new house for a month and our house took over a year to build. This is my first blog post. I realize I'm being very matter of fact but that's how I feel right now because as I stand here writing this while my kids watch Special Agent Oso, I am finally being forced to face some hard facts.

I didn't want this blog to start out on a negative/serious note or a "less than happy" note because I think I felt like when we moved in to this new house that everything was supposed to be all marshmallows and rainbows, and everything that was wrong at my other house (I'll get in to that later, that is going to break my fingers it is such a long story) would just magically go away. Fact...hard fact....it doesn't just all go away....granted it is a bit easier, I have some relaxing outlets now and a real home for my children instead of just a 100 year old roof from hell over their heads, but...as it will always be...autism is still there.

As a matter of fact I completely broke down the night before last because Aaron was "mean to me" when I had a migraine. By that I mean he wasn't as nice as he usually is when I don't feel good and he didn't "say" sorry later (he is non-verbal so he puts his hand on your cheek to say sorry when he does something wrong). Contrary to what most people think, autistic people are very empathetic, they just don't express it well. Aaron is very good at picking up on when I don't feel good and is usually extra nice to me and will give me lots of hugs and kisses. He didn't do that at any point, even a little bit. He sat next to me on the bed while I sat there trying to keep my head from exploding and slammed his head in to the pillow next to me over and over again for 20 minutes even though I kept telling him to stop and that it was making me sick. When he finally decided to start "hitting" (attention getting hits, not violent or anything, Aaron isn't like that) my arm because I wouldn't pay attention to him, I finally told him to just go away. It breaks my heart to do that because I always worry that he doesn't understand why I told him to go away. Daddy was home so he went in to the living room and played with Daddy and his little sister. This move to a new house, while scores healthier, has created a lot of anxiety for Aaron, but overall his personality hasn't changed and his reactions to certain situations haven't changed so this behavior was out of the ordinary.

Because of the trauma caused to my body and my mind by the house from hell I am still over emotional and will cry at the drop of a hat (I would cry while living there several times a day) and I had a migraine I was bawling when the kid's bedtime rolled around and I couldn't help but cry in front of Aaron. Usually he will shower me with hugs and kisses if he sees me cry and he didn't do any of that. He just looked past me and was doing a lot of verbal stimming (which was probably my fault) he was completely checked out. I had to put him to bed without getting my usual smile from him or telling him that he is my best friend which I have done every night since he was born. He didn't even know I was in the room. We put my daughter to bed and I tried to get a hug from her, she hugged me for less than a second (literally) punched me in the throat to get away and wanted down. She is not affectionate with me at all (something I blame on the house from hell also, another long story) then after everyone was in bed my husband asked me why I was crying so hard and I just lost it.

It wasn't just the incident on my bed that was upsetting, it was the rejection from both kids in such a short period of time, the realization that life isn't perfect just because I'm finally in my dream house, I don't have anyone to talk to who fully understands what it is like to have an autistic child who doesn't speak, I also have an almost 2 year old daughter who copies her brother so much that she doesn't speak either, she uses his ASL signs...I don't know if or when she will speak, I don't know what her deal is to be honest. I just want to hear one of my kids say "Mommy" or "I love you". No offense to anyone but people take those things for granted. My husband has 2 older daughters (who are my daughters too but they didn't become mine until teenage years) so even he knows what it's like to hear those words from your child. I don't. Some could call it a pity party for sure but I'm hit in the face over and over again with reminders of everything I'm never going to experience over and over again every single day. It's hard and I wonder when I will get a thicker skin and stop letting it get to me so much. When I was in the house from hell I think it was easier to ignore because my whole life was consumed with how much I hated that house and how I had to spend every second of every day trying to keep the kids from getting hurt in there. Without that lovely distraction now I have all these things I was able to block out before bombarding me at all times. I feel guilty complaining about anything lately because there are plenty of people around here who would love and deserve to have a house like mine. I will say though without guilt or reservation that my husband and I are also deserving of our house. We worked hard to get it and we are also no spring chickens. This is the first house we have owned together and we have been married almost 10 years. I just feel guilty complaining when I know there are people around here who would be like "That bitch just built a new house...what the hell does she have to complain about?" For anyone who reads this who doesn't live here, a new house in this town is a big deal, it doesn't happen often...thus the guilt...I don't even know if it's guilt actually, it's just a weird feeling like I have to watch what I say or I will be labeled around town as someone who is unappreciative of what I have because that couldn't be further from the truth. I absolutely appreciate what I have. Nothing major in my life has come to me with ease (not my husband, my children, etc), I had to go through a lot of shit to get where I am so I don't take anything for granted. I just don't want there to be any confusion.

Anyway....

The other thing that contributed to my breakdown after bedtime the other night was that I pick up my son from school every day and I have no idea what he did or if he had fun. I have to see all the other kids telling their parents all the exciting things that happened to them that day and all the fun things they saw and I don't get to experience any of that. The school started out doing this communication notebook that they would send home in Aaron's backpack every day. The first few times it said the stuff he did that day (mostly). Now all it says it whether he ate or not and if he hit or kicked anyone. Every once in a while they will mention if he was in an especially good mood but that's about it. I still ask him every day if he had a good day and what he did. I am met with silence 100% of the time and I don't expect any different but I will never stop asking. I hope he is answering me in his head, I always want him to know that I am interested. I also tell him that I missed him while he was at school, which is true. As challenging as this life is, and as nice as it is to have a little break and just have the one child for short periods of time, I love him more than anything and wouldn't trade him for anything and I always miss him when he isn't with me.

It's not all doom and gloom, I just had a bad couple of days and needed to get it out...needed a good time to start the blog I've been meaning to start for over a month...bingo.

What do I hope to get out of this blog? I hope it is a cathartic experience for me. I don't have anyone to talk to, who really, truly understands what it's like to raise a severely autistic child, so I will talk to the universe instead. The universe will not say to me "you know what you need?" (I can't stand that. I need a listening ear, not a therapist or an event planner.) Doing a hand written journal would make my hand fall off and maybe a blog might help someone else or make them laugh...not this post but maybe one in the future. I promise I am funny.

I still have not decided if I will keep Aaron "anonymous" in the sense of posting pictures of his face. I could try to give him a fake first name but I would screw that up in a second so I'm not even going to try, so for now it will be side and back shots. I am on the fence about it. Our town is small enough but I would never want to embarrass him because everyone here pretty much knows who we are, but if this blog were to eventually be followed by a lot of people would I want a ton of strangers to know his face? I'm not sure. I could always shut it down too if it ever bothered him or if I thought it was affecting him in any way or had the potential to. I will do anything for him. He's only 4 now so I have a while before he really will even know what I'm doing, if ever. Plus, this blog is not to bitch about Aaron and autism. It is to occasionally vent (which may be a fancy word for "bitch") about autism, bring much needed awareness to autism for those who want it, to let the universe know how amazing, sweet, fun and incredible Aaron is, and to shed light on the not so fun and painful parts of autism that hurt my precious child every day. It is a chance for me to tell autism that "I don't like you sometimes...you are mean to my baby."

Stay tuned...