The Real of Autism

Hi, my name is Adrian and I am accused of being an over-sharer.

I concede.

While I’m sure many do not relish my photographic exploits (particularly of myself), sharing terrible photos tickles me. It’s the same reason I share that I weigh 181 pounds.

Damn prednisone and IVIG and maybe those bagels with cream cheese for breakfast the past three weeks.

It doesn’t hurt my feelings if you b*tch and moan about that kind of mess.
Or if you go apesh*t that I use the term “Karen.”

FYI, its mainly people named Karen who are having a hissy- hence the term Karen.

What does bother me is when people say I’m too vocal about the real of life.

The real of autism.

Belonging to a boy who is joy incarnate and my own Mt. Everest.

Christmas break has been a literal deal breaker.

Lamps, a couple iPads, two days worth of superglued Lego vehicles.

We are trying to get his medicine right and right now?

It’s wrong.

I emailed his doctor today and said he may need to try a new family.

I was sort of kidding and sort of not.

For the first time in a long time, I thought, I don’t know if we can do this.
Sharing that kind of truth is like standing buck naked in front of thousands of perfect twenty somethings.

It makes sharing a weight number easy peasy.

It’s hard to be vulnerable.

It makes me feel ashamed and guilty and my humanness screams, “If you say all that, it means you don’t love him.”

But I do love him.

So much that I gather him in my arms when I want to pummel him.

So much that I get in the tub on a Sunday afternoon just because he says, “Mommy, get in?”

I want people to know that love is not easy.

It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and without question, the most rewarding.

To share is to showcase unadulterated sincerity.

At least for me.

Tonight, a friend with her own autistic son shared a two sentence caption about her day- something about him breaking the tv and dumping out a half gallon of organic milk.

It made me so happy.

I wept with the camaraderie of it.

I wasn’t alone and somehow, it made my mountain not seem so formidable.

I share because I need to know that I’m not alone.

I share because it reminds me that the messy part of life is the best part.

Written by, Adrian H. Wood, PhD

I am a rural Eastern NC mother of four, one with extra special needs. Past preschool teacher, nanny, children’s ski instructor, early interventionist, college professor, early childhood researcher, wife and full time mama. In writing after a twenty year hiatus, I offer personal glimpses where satire meets truth, faith meets irony, despair meets joy and this educated debutante escapes the laundry and finds true meaning in graceful transparency. You can follow Adrian’s story at Tales of an Educated Debutante.

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Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook and subscribe to our newsletter.

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About Me
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Finding Cooper's Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you're never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village....all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to my page!

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