Why the Hate?

Every June around Father's Day I see something I never see around Mother's Day: dad hate.

It always gets to me.  I can't understand how women - moms - can harbor such hate towards someone who is simply absent.  There's an amazing amount of resentment being flashed about as if some great injustice has been served.

I'm lost on just where exactly this injustice is.  It appears dads don't feel the same way.  Or at least have the decency to keep harsh judgement to themselves.

As you all know I cut ties with Sparky's father around the time he turned two due to some reprehensible comments he made around that time that were deserving of my withdrawal for my son's protection.  We still have not spoken since and he has certainly not shown any interest in the kiddo's life.

If anyone deserves condemnation it's this guy...  He dragged me through the wringer, levying threats against me and the baby like he was discussing the weather, even threatening my mother.  He is the lowest of the low.  So much so that the courts revoked his rights.  That's pretty damn bad...

Yet you won't hear me condemn him or wish him ill will.  It's pretty obvious he was in a place where he was not ready for the thought of having a child even though he was approaching his mid-20s.  That's ok.  That doesn't earn him any forgiveness for what he said (for there is nothing that will ease danger of having your child's life threatened) but it doesn't mean I will sit around and bash him at every opportunity either.  I have certainly never said a mean word about him around the kiddo, even after Sparky realized that he really did have a father (thanks to the school...).  I simply told Sparky that he had no interest being a father to him, and that was that.  All Sparky had to really say about it is that it was "ok" because he didn't think he was missing out on anything anyway.  And he certainly isn't!

Many of these moms that I see bashing the father of their children all have men who ARE PART of their children's lives.  This boggles my mind....  As a mom with a dad who is 100% absent I just can't wrap my head around it.  How can they be so mean and upset with someone who CHOSE to stick around and help raise their children with someone who is apparently ungrateful and unforgiving of them?  These are dads who try to do what is best for their children but are stomped on and foiled every step of the way by women who are seemingly out to seek revenge.

I don't get it.  If your children's father is trying to be an active part of their lives and actually be a dad to them, why stop them?  Why make it hard for them?  Just because the two of you didn't work out for whatever reason (and the reason really is quite irrelevant when it comes to caring for your children) doesn't mean he can't be the awesome dad anyone would want their kids to have.  Period.  Remember, at one time you did think they were worthy.

Fortunately, I do have a couple (literally a couple) friends who apparently see the way I do.  Their ex is a less than desirable human being to them and they were greatly wronged, but they recognize that their ex is one hell of a dad to their children and embrace them being around.  I salute their clarity.

Even if it is just for one day, why not stop to take a moment to appreciate all that your children's father does for them (and you).  Take a moment to be grateful that they actually WANT to be a part of your kiddos lives and care enough to make the effort.  To me, these guys deserve an award because they go up against every stereotype and do their best to break down the barriers to be there for their children.

So here is my call to action for you moms: for one day, appreciate all that he does, even if you loathe his very presence, appreciate and be grateful for the mere fact that he is willing to do what he can, however he can, to be there.  It doesn't matter if it fits your mold of the quantity of time or the frequency of his visits.  Just appreciate that at least sometimes he is there.  You'd be shocked at how far a little gratitude and genuine thankfulness can go. 

Blessed

We've been so blessed by the people in our lives. Often these people go unsung. You've heard me rave about how awesome my mom is, or my sister, and more recently, M - my fiance.

So in light of Father's Day coming up I wanted to stop and appreciate the men in my life, of which there are three stand-outs so to speak. As in, they are the most important. They are listed in chronological order of appearance. ;)

As you all know, Sparky's (the kiddo, it's easier to call him by something, so a nickname it is!), well, his dad is not around (his choice really). After his outburst when Sparky was 2 about him being "retarded" I quickly washed my hands of that mess. Growing up without my father I knew such a person was overrated anyway. My dad was no winning soul. In fact, I'm pretty sure I am better for not having to deal with him.

Oh no! You cry... How could he (or you) survive without a father or some type of father figure?

Well, for starters, I ended up gaining this pretty stand up guy for my stepdad.

Not anyone could come into a house with a woman and her three growing daughters. Talk about nerves of steel.... My sisters and I, well, we were something of a handful (I'm a middle child, go with that where you will). We'll argue who was worst (the youngest I say!) but all in all, we were quite the trio. He came into this mess, with two kids of his own (b/g, both younger than us), persisted like crazy to get my mom to marry him, and did a pretty decent job of being around. You can imagine that with 5 pretty active kids that there would be a lot to keep up with. He managed to. I get lost keeping up with my one and only Sparky, I can't imagine 5! We all turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. Sparky and I lived with my parents while I finished college with my first degree until Sparky was 3. Then we moved out. Today my dad (as I often refer to him) is the proud grandpa of 3 grandkids (Sparky is first, then Z, then Ladybug) that he spoils as best he can. While my little sister has been out of high school for nearly a decade, Grandpa's youngest (g) just graduated. His 'nest' is now empty. More time to spoil the grandkids!

Then there is this other guy, a little known guy, a guy who was (and still is) an important figure in Sparky's life. You may recall references to a random guy, R. We'll call him by a nickname, Ears (long story). I have known him for nearly 20 years (man, that makes me feel old!). He's been my best friend for ages. When Sparky was 2, he came home from Iraq (he was there for about 2 years as a Marine). He visited me at college and (as I say) I haven't been able to get rid of him since! We were together for 5 years. During that time he was such a blessing and pillar of support as I finished my (first) degree and went through getting Sparky's Autism diagnosis.  That was a rough period for sure, just trying to get answers and help. Ears stood with us through it all. As Sparky grew and went to school he started noticing his classmates had this guy in their life. This guy who was with mom and did certain things with and for their kids. Something clicked in his head, he put 2 and 2 together and determined that Ears was his dad. To this day he calls him dad intermittently.  If he sees something that refers to "dad" he thinks of Ears. We have never told him otherwise and really, it doesn't matter. Ears is dad to this kid. To this day Ears and I remain close (and yes M knows and is totally ok with this). I still rely on him for support. There's a lot of history and mutual respect there. I'm sure I'd have lost my mind long ago if it wasn't for him. Even at 2am. Sparky even emails him on occasion and loves having that avenue open to him. Ears considered Sparky his own and I know he does to this day. He would do anything for that kiddo...

Now there's M. I'm going to call him Strike. (He was an Army Ranger before getting hit by lightning. True story.) A dad himself of two absolutely adorable kiddos (4/g and 7/b). Kids he lives for. Being a dad is just in his blood. People always comment on how great he is with them and how he has so much patience. I hear that a lot, "He has such amazing patience!" Yeah. I get it. I have very little. I know. He has a lot. Thanks for reminding me... :) There was a time when I actually was very resistant to him.  I know how hard my son is. I've lost relationships over it. But man, Strike PERSISTED.  He wouldn't leave me be. He kept calling and texting and working his butt on in. I eventually gave in... ;)  He is really good with Sparky though. There are days when I'm just about at the end of my rope but he is no where near it. There are days I can't figure out just what it is Sparky is trying to tell me and he gets it right off the bat. (I'm a little jealous of this... :) ) I saw it right away when I met him. Right away. When Sparky had his first meltdown when Strike was watching him and Strike didn't bat an eye. I knew. When Sparky screams his way through each and every haircut that he gets and Strike doesn't bat an eye. I know. When Sparky is up at 3am, in my bed, talking and wiggling around, and Strike doesn't even peep (aside from the occasional answer to Sparky). I know. When Sparky is absolutely losing his mind over whatever and breaking eardrums. I know. When Sparky tells him how he can't marry me and he needs to go away, and Strike tells him too bad cause he's here to take care of him and his mom. I know. Every other guy (except Ears) has run from it. This kid is a LOT of work. He's a lot of frustration. He is a lot to deal with. He isn't easy. Strike just shrugs it off and keeps going. He knows. He understands. He's resilient. He's patient. Damn I'm blessed!

Without these three guys I'd probably be lost. I am very lucky to have them. I'm even luckier that they want to be around. So while I have mixed emotions about Father's Day (you can read about it here), all in all, I'd say we are truly blessed.

Sparky and Grandpa:

Sparky and Ears:

Sparky and Strike:

Yep. Blessed. :)

Maybe, Just Maybe...

I am currently reading Loud Hands Autistic People, Speaking. If you haven't picked up a copy, do it. You will be thankful you did.

As I sit reading this anthology I can't help but cry. I cry on just about every page. But I'm not crying in a bad way. I'm crying in a good way.

The more I read the more I think that maybe, just maybe I am doing things right for my son.

Maybe, just maybe, I am not screwing him up...

When I send away or cancel TSS's and therapists because I know he doesn't have the ability (or spoons) to do anything more that day.

When I let him roam freely around the house lost in his own world chattering for hours on end without interrupting him, unless absolutely necessary.

When I allow him to hole up in a corner on the other end of the house for hours without batting an eye.

When I take him for a car ride at 10 pm because he can't sleep and wants to feel the vibrations and peace of the car.

When so-called professionals criticize me for not being strict enough, enforcing enough, drawing some boundary or another, and I let it roll off because they don't know him like I do.

When I let him crawl into my bed at 2 am because he needs the sensory warmth and pressure of my arms hugging him.

When I'm criticized (again) for not "structuring" his weekend into perfect schedules, instead preferring to let the days go as they may (which he needs after a structured week).

When I break things down into more manageable pieces so he doesn't get overwhelmed.

When I allow him to perseverate, stim, flap, whatever, away without so much as batting an eye.

When I allow him to feel the fabrics of any prospective clothes to make sure he can tolerate how they feel.

When I feed into his Super Mario "obsession."(Which I get criticized for too.)

When I continually ignore the latest Autism "must try" trend. (If it isn't broken why fix it? And y'all know my view on "broken.")

When I let him pick dinner nearly every night instead of having it be a reward (yeah, a reward? pshaw!!) even if it ends up being the same thing 5 nights in a row.

When I remain flexible and open to the fact that I might be wrong.

When I stop and listen. Truly listen. To him. To other Autistics.

When I adjust my day, my schedule, based on the spoons he has left so I don't stress him.

When he is unable to speak and I give him a pencil and piece of paper to write or draw instead.

When I make him promises, no matter how crazy they seem to others, and keep them.

When I let him, be him.

Isn't that what loving and cherishing your child is all about? Embracing every bit of them, adjusting your reality and your perceptions, to give them an emotionally positive, validating environment in which to grow and bloom?

I am told I spoil him, I'm not strict enough, I'm too flexible, I cater to him, I enable him, etc.

I disagree. I love, support, and embrace him. I'm sensitive to his needs, and for good reason.

I have one heck of an amazing young man in my house. I am proud to be his mommy. And I know he's thankful to have me. Heck, he told me he was the luckiest boy ever to have a mom like me. :)

Dear Country Fair Employee...

Dear Country Fair Employee,

Thank you for what you did tonight. You did not know that my son was Autistic. You didn't know that he often appears to overreact to what seems like simple situations. You didn't know what could possibly have fueled his screaming panic all over the store. All you knew was that this 10 year old boy was missing a glove.

What you also didn't know, was that the glove was really his mommy's and he was borrowing them for his hands because he has sensory issues and can't wear his own. You didn't know that he is very protective of mommy's things and that he couldn't possibly accept losing her glove.

When you saw his distress you didn't judge, you didn't roll your eyes, you didn't even flinch. You simply dropped what you were doing, walked over to him, and offered to help find his missing glove. You did your best to keep him calm while his mommy finished the checkout. You walked around the store with him asking him about the glove and assuring him you two would find it before long.

You even found the glove and were rewarded with his beaming happy face. If his face wasn't enough, then surely his "thank-yous" were. Without even knowing my son has Autism, you simply reacted to a boy in distress, and immediately wanted to help. You gave him patience and understanding. Something we are not often met with at times like this.

When we got home my son commented on how "that 'county fair' employee helped" him out. He was so thrilled and awed by your kindness.

Thank you for helping him. And thank you for making this mommy thankful for people like you.

(Editor's note: For those of you unfamiliar with what a Country Fair is, it is a gas station and convenience store located where we live. The store was small so I was able to see my son's every move. It not only made it easy to note my son's distress, but also to see the employee's reactions and how helpful he was.)