Posts Tagged ‘parenting’

The abundance of “autism moms” on the Internet.

I don’t know if it’s because of the… faux pas in grammar that this bothers me so much or the fact that they are taking their child’s diagnosis, attempting to wrap themselves up in it, and live vicariously through their child in spite of the fact that many of them claim to “hate autism” and exhibit obvious disdain for their child’s neurology, but there’s always been something about the phrase “autism mom” and “autism dad” that bothers me, even though the title gives away the fact that there seem to be a lot more “autism moms” on the Internet than there are “autism dads”. Sometimes I like to call it exactly what it is though… “assholes who try to live vicariously through their child” (since almost no other diagnosis has parents who come up with monikers like this to the point that this is a thing, and I will take correction if I am wrong), “people who claim to love their children but hate their child’s neurology, which is a fundamental part of their child”, and “people who hate their children so much that they want to cure their child, which would then give them a completely different child” — oh, pardon me, I must be running off a bit at the mouth again. That’s a thing that I do, heh.

Anyway, points to ponder:
Are you a mom? A dad? Are you autistic? Great! You are an autism mom or an autism dad!
Are you not autistic? Sucks to be you. You are not an autism mom. You are not an autism dad.

Your child’s identity is not your identity, although attempting to find a community similar to your own (“parents of autistic children”) is not a bad thing. Admitting that you may have struggles due to your child’s behavior is one thing. Attempting to martyr yourself due to your child’s struggles for attention is different, and is one of many reasons that autistic adults do not trust many neurotypical parents of autistic children.

Remember, though, that your child’s autism is fundamentally linked to who they are.

You can not “hate autism” without hating core, unchangeable components of who your child is.

Just another day in our house, I guess.

For some reason, Bub has been making it a point to sneak into my room when I’m not in it and take my bookmarks out of the books that I have sitting on my nightstand, and he’s also been making it a point to damage possessions of mine, sometimes even going so far as to throw items of mine at my wall. I am still not sure what is motivating him to actually do this, although we have had several conversations about why he should not do this, and he is not allowed in my room until I am positive that these behaviors are actually going to stop. His response to that was to go into his room and begin slamming his door, slamming it so hard and so often that he might have sprung it. I noticed when I went to get up to check on him and see if I could help him calm down that it wasn’t quite… closing normally, and then opening and closing my own door for comparison kind of confirmed that for me. Right now, it doesn’t seem like it’s anything major, but when he has meltdowns this is something that I definitely have to watch out for. If he starts to make a habit out of slamming his door — which he does for some reason — I have to be prepared to stop him from doing that so he doesn’t damage something, just like I have to be close enough to his bedroom when he’s in there melting down to make sure that he doesn’t kick or punch the door or any of the walls in his room to cause damage…

This is just another day in our household, though. He’s just the kind of kid that has meltdowns, even when his environment is tailored to minimize them. And that it does, but he still has frequent, fairly severe ones.

This seems like the best workaround for now, so…

Okay, so after coming to the conclusion that one game in particular from Epic was taking up… nearly all of the free space that we had left on our PC’s hard drive, and that continuing to download every free game that we qualified for would put us on an unsustainable path with a hard drive that was one terabyte large, I decided to uninstall all of the Epic games that we are not actively playing even though I will continue to “qualify” for all of the free games that they release each week and grow our library that way so that I can download them at our leisure when we do want to play them… that way, they will be there and ready, but our hard drive won’t eventually completely fill up. That seems to be the best way to work around this for now, especially given that Epic games seem to be larger than any other PC(/Mac) game’s (developer? manufacturer? releaser?) that I’ve encountered so far. And to think that I honestly thought that a one terabyte hard drive was large… at least until that happened, you know? And maybe it is. Maybe to have a proper “gaming rig” though, you need something even larger than that. That honestly just blows my mind.

At any rate, we finally have (almost) everything that I can think of for Baby’s First Altar. Bub is continuing to be monitored around it because he’s taken to not leaving things alone when I want, or need, him to leave them alone. We’re working on that. It’s coming along, bit by bit. And weirdly enough, one or two people every now and again have asked me if I’ve ever regretted opening my mouth to Bub’s father’s family about my lack of belief in a higher power, not going along to get along, not keeping my mouth shut about how I really felt about them and their beliefs, and… no. I don’t regret a single thing. Because if we did get married, our marriage would have been incredibly short-lived (and invalid in the eyes of his church because I wouldn’t have been open to life, let alone “willing to be faithful” since I did not want to be monogamous and had made that clear to him). Also worth noting: my own family members were actually unwilling to come to my own wedding if I had one, and pretty much saw the writing on the wall for exactly what it was there. They were more willing to support the fact that it would be a short-lived marriage. Especially my own mother.

None of my own friends (bar the friends that, at the time, were our own mutual friends) were willing to come.

That should have said something right there about the level of avoidance people close to me would’ve had.

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