There are some days that I wonder if my children have been mis-diagnosed. So often, people are shocked when they find out that Austin and Reece have Autism/Asperger's. Sometimes they blend in very nicely. I wonder, sometimes, if they are just regular kids, albeit a little bit different. Maybe if I were a more effective parent? I was so glad at first to get the diagnosis, because it really seemed as if someone were saying, "Nope it's not your fault, there is something else going on."
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I'm in a rough place right now. There are enough times where I see the autism, or I think I'm seeing it. But even then I wonder if we were better parents, would it still be happening? If our kids were given to someone else, would they still have been diagnosed on the spectrum? If the kids had a mom who was more naturally 'dynamic' in her approach to life, would they be different?
I wonder if this is a common feeling when you have a child on the higher-functioning end of the spectrum. Some days and some situations go off without a hitch and I feel like I'm over-reacting. Some days, and the same situations, are a disaster. I haven't been telling people anymore about the autism because they look at me like I'm lying or making excuses. Maybe I am making excuses? Maybe we should stop making excuses and hold them to a higher standard? Are we over-indulgent?
I feel like I'm torn between worlds. And I don't know where I should be. Do we think of our children as children with autism, and make accommodations and focus on remediation? Or do we think of them as regular children, holding them to a standard, regardless of whether or not the 'issues' come into play?
I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense. It's a reflection of what I feel like inside. I feel lost. I feel totally alone. I feel like I don't fit in anywhere, not with homeschoolers, not with parents of children with autism, not with Christians, not with stay at home moms. I want to fit in. I'm trying to fit in, and it makes me feel even more out of place.