Forgive me...I'm about to have a pity party if you're patient enough, it will be over soon. I've just got to get it off of my chest, and I can't do it on my family blog for obvious reasons.
My friend has a grandson who was born exactly one month to the day after my youngest was. Which means, he is 27 months old, and my son is 28 months old. Her grandson is basically a mammoth, with thick blonde hair and ridiculously adorable dimples, and my son is tiny and slight and has white blonde muppet hair. (I personally think my son is cuter, but isn't that my job?) The differences don't stop there, though...
Because, apparently her grandson (whom I will refer to as "Mammoth", and my son will be referred to as "Buddy", because he is my little bud. My compadre. My shadow. You get it.) ......is perfect. Apparently he should be running the country, or working for Microsoft or something, because accorting to the stories I am being told, he is as gifted as they come. Like, Doogie Howster, or some sh*t like that. Grrrrrr....
Now, in my friend's defense, she doesn't know that they've decided that Buddy is on the Autism Spectrum. I haven't had the energy to tell her, yet. Mainly because she is going to ask at LEAST 74 questions, and probably interject her own personal opinion here and there, and I think anybody who knows me knows that personal opinions and me don't really mix right now. Not that I don't like them. It's just that I don't really
appreciate them right now. I've heard them all before, and none of them seem to change the situation we are in with Buddy right now, so I would rather not hear them at all. I know, I know...I'm being a child. To that I have to say: Go through this yourself and tell me how you react. Yeah, that's what I thought.
But, I digress...
So Mammoth boy learned to do everything before Buddy did. Walk, feed himself, dress himself, talk, sing, etc etc etc...the list goes on and on. Every time my older children are around Mammoth, they come home with stories like this:
"Oh my gosh, mom, Mammoth is soooooo cute! He sings his ABC's, and his grandpa taught him how to hum the Jaws Theme Song when he walks towards you. It's so funny, mom!"And this....
"Mom, you should hear Mammoth sing. He sings I Am A Child Of God and he knows the words and he talks to me all the time, and asks me questions, and he is so smart, mom!"And whenever I see this kid, he speaks like a pro, and smiles at me, and comes up and puts his hands up to be held, and talks to me, and the list goes on and on and on....
Ok, this is where the pity party begins.
I look at my Buddy, and he is
so different. He doesn't talk much at all. Sometimes he jabbers, but it's not often coherant. Or clear. He parrots words at times, but only says a very small handful of words on his own. And he doesn't sing very often. Occasionally we can get him to sing the song from Toy Story, but there aren't many actual words in it, he's mostly just mimicking the tone. And he doesn't dress himself at all yet, though he is an expert in removing his clothing and walking around naked. Buddy doesn't often gesture for people to pick him up, except mom and dad, though even that isnt consistent. He isn't very affectionate, and doesn't like to be touched gently. Oh, and he scratches and picks at his skin constantly, sometimes until he bleeds. Mammoth doesn't do that. Mammoth blows kisses and gives people raspberries.
*SIGH*
When I see other kids who are around Buddy's age, or in this case,
younger....and they do things that Buddy doesn't do, or can't do, or WON'T do...it depresses me. I know that it shouldn't. I'm not stupid. I know that I should be happy to have a (physically) healthy child who is still somewhat connected to us, despite the challenges he is going through right now. I realize that parents lose their children all the time, and that they would give their very last breath to have their deceased children with them, even if they had the challenges that Buddy has. I know that I am a lucky, blessed mother.
I am not stupid. I am not selfish. I am not a bad person.
I am just having a pity party right now.
I want Buddy to be able to do things that Mammoth can do. (And so help me, if I get one email from someone reminding me that
their kid never liked to sings songs or hug very much, and they turned out fine...I am going to drive to your house and punch you in the throat! Talk to me when your kids rakes his fingernails across his skin so much that he leaves bloody scabs all over is skin, know it all.) No matter how much I know that Buddy is a wonderful, darling little boy who was sent to me because of a divine purpose (which is what I believe, btw) it is always a little depressing when I walk into the Nursery at church and all of the kids are playing together, but Buddy is off in the corner, quietly playing with the wheels of his car, by himself. Sure, he is a good boy and he isn't causing any trouble. But....he isn't quite
normal, and it makes me sad.
Mammoth pisses me off. I know....I am being stupid. I am 34 years old, and I am mad at a two year old. I realize how childish this is. But right now, I don't care. According to my friend, and my older children, Mammoth is Ivy League material. And it torques me. It pisses me off. It ticks me off. It pushes my buttons.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Ok, enough pity party for one morning. As I was typing this, Buddy toddled in and my nerd started "Toy Story" for him to watch. He's been sitting her laughing and jabbering incoherantly, and it is cracking me up. He gets pretty fixated on TV, but it's cute nonetheless. He is actually sitting here, with his feet resting across my lap lazily.
He is a good boy. And I am absolutely convinced that he is intelligent. It's just.......stuck right now. Stuck inside his mind, and unable to come out easily. I hope beyond hope that we will be able to get him right back on target over the next few years. I pray every single day, sometimes multiple times, to have the strength and patience to deal with him properly. My Buddy is the best little man any mom could ask for. He is precious and he loves his mom and dad, and we are the better people for having him in our lives, not the other way around. I wouldn't trade him for what would be considered a "normal" child. Not now, not
ever.
I just wish that hearing about Mammoth didn't depress me so much.
*Sigh*
Brooke Moss.
