Archive

Tag Archives: parenting with Asperger’s

After last week’s misery (which I still feel guilty about, because a mother isn’t supposed to find her baby quite so irksome, maybe) things are looking up. The baby is back at nursery and tomorrow I’ll be back at the office.

And although it’s only half ten here in the UK, I’ve already put my freedom to very good use by going for a run and enjoying some coffee with a cinnamon pastry – uninterrupted!

I don’t know if people without children will quite understand this bliss. Then again, I’ve had some pretty hectic jobs in the past and that also made me appreciate my quiet time. When I worked in a bank, we’d have long days absolutely filled with customers. On busy days, it would literally be a constant stream of people from opening to closing. Can you imagine how much fun that was with Asperger’s?

I think it must be the same for a lot of shop workers, and of course, anyone in the police or NHS. When do you get to take a breather? When do you get to enjoy your freedom?

These moments are so precious – I hope everybody gets to enjoy them sometimes.

And if you’re a mother who’s desperate for a break from your children – throw off the guilt and do it if you can. Or if you can’t throw off the guilt, do it anyway! Ask those friends or relatives, or spend a bit of money if you can spare it. Your mental health will thank you.

As usual, comments, including rants and whinges (you know I don’t mind you venting) are welcome.

Advertisements

One of my worst nightmares has happened. I am stuck looking after the baby for a week because she’s too infectious to be at nursery and all the grandparents are away!

This means fitting all of those 8 million jobs I have into nap times, but even worse, it means I have to spend hours every day keeping a very mobile and slightly cranky 9 month old happy and out of trouble. I realise as I’m writing this that many mothers adore spending time with their babies. I’m also aware many mothers who lost their babies would pay almost any price to have their babies back with them, just so they could hold them again and be mothers again. I’m tearing up thinking about that.

But the fact remains, I find babies annoying, even my own. I don’t like being constantly interrupted. I don’t like being unable to arrange my day without consideration of nap times, snack times, medication times, nappy times…. That’s not why I had children. I had children so that they could grow into lovely little people – people I can talk to and they understand – people I can reason with and explain things to. I never wanted the little shouty things that are either asleep or needy. I only wanted the nice little girls (about 3+ is when they seem to get more fun and less needy), that can develop into even less needy and more wonderful people, and eventually wonderful grown ups that leave home and make you the needy one.

This week is going to drag, but I know I’m still lucky to have her. And one day she will be less annoying.

One of my overriding memories of school, is being surrounded by a kind of white noise. This is the noise of other people’s conversations. Difficult to distinguish or make sense of, it’s easier to tune it out. I thought I’d left this behind until…

Tumble Tots.

When my daughter was younger, a lot of the mums in the waiting room wouldn’t have conversations with each other. It was the norm to sit quietly, speaking only to your own toddler, waiting for the moment you all had to get up and go in to class. Now, my daughter is in a group for bigger kids, and the mums get to wait in the waiting room while the childrenĀ jump, balance, spin, sing, dance, run, throw things, roly poly, swing, and perform triple pike turns or whatever.

So, every week, I am sitting on a plastic chair, uncomfortably close to other mothers for an hour and I am almost always the only one not talking. I take a kindle. I try to ignore the buzz. Occasionally I look around and feel sorry for myself, or wonder if I’m doing something wrong.

No. I am still not part of the buzz. But I can’t help it. To do things differently would be like trying to move a boulder with a feather.

If I can accept my limitations, and live happily that way, I can show my daughter a good example. I don’t want her to think she has to torture herself to fit in, so why should I put myself under that pressure?

At the last class, I wandered into the hallway to check on my daughter’s progress. It was really just to be somewhere a bit quieter. By chance, another mum came out and spoke to me really nicely. She asked how my daughter was getting on and I asked after hers. Our children have been in the same class for ages.

It felt good to have that small interaction. That is enough for me. Just enough to prove I am a worthy human being, with just a slightly different brain.