Xanadu...No, more like Xanex

It's extremely easy to lose sight of yourself when you are the caregiver to any special needs individual. You begin to define yourself by that, forgetting all the things that made you the person you were before...I used to be Jackie, and hey...to the best of my blurred recollection, I used to like stuff!! I used to like going out with friends, reading smutty novels, traveling, crafting, sleeping, laughing...I have vague memories of such hobbies. I am currently the primary caregiver to all 5 of our children during the day (My 3; Kim's 2). I think it is also fair to say that each autie counts as 3 typs on the work equivalence scale. So by that math I watch 9 kids all day, every day - which feels much more accurate when measuring my exhaustion. I feel it important to mention my lifelong doubts about my ability to be "maternal"...as I always questioned if I was even cut out for motherhood...but I figured if animals, insects and idiots can do it, I can too! And shit, I don't even have to master something as difficult as parallel parking, cuz you don't even need a license to breed! I never considered the possibility that my children would be anything less than normal (if not brilliant, right?). Parenting is a life long commitment, I knew that going into the "breeding zone". However, my commitment will be obviously different than most parents... I will never experience the glory of the suffering of empty nest syndrome (you know, that magical moment when you get your life back...). Two of my children will likely require life long care, which is a pretty overwhelming thought, one most parents fortunately don't have to consider. I get annoyed when parents take their own beautiful normalcy for granted...m'kay?

And, no, I am not always the shiny fucking ray of sunshine that I present to you here...like every parent, I have my days...and nights. Sometimes in my darker moments I will run through the many things my sons will probably never experience...Like having friends; driving a car; making love to someone they love; or experiencing the wonderment of their own child...Instead, I consume my thoughts with things like, who will really care for them when I am gone? Did others hurt or mistreat you while you were away from me? (because you can't TELL me if they did)...If I work diligently with you, day and night, might you someday have a breakthrough?? Does it hurt, autism? And what is that under your fingernails?? As you will most likely hear any parent of an autistic child say, "I wish, even for just 5 minutes, I could be him", in his head, his body... to experience with new understanding this puzzle we try to solve each and every moment of each and every day.