Me, A Troll?

Today I was accused of being a troll. Really not a big deal, I've been called far worse in far more polite forums. What bothered be about this was the context of said name calling. It was a reply log to an article about something exceptionally close to my heart. A 3 year old boy with autism who was subjected to a 5 hours ride from his school to his home; a trip that would usually take his parents 20 minutes. A dear friend of mine posted his own scathing article; well written, composed (considering the subject matter, he is al so a parent of a son with autism.) Along with the usual platitudes, "Oh my GOD.....That's horrific......if that was my child," I could easily pin point those with children with Autism and special needs comments.

Then, there were the others

You see, I have been spoiled. I am in a private group for parents of children with Autism. I have several face book and twitter friends and followers who just get it. I have cut out all those that are cruel, or refuse to learn or understand.

I have been reading back over my last few blog entries and am quite aware what a lyrical but melancholy sense I have been weaving.  I've been so introverted and selfish, I forgot about the rest of you.  The parents of the 1:88, the aunts, uncles, cousins and siblings of that 1:88.  If you entered my blog you no doubt would have stopped reading four sentences in and run screaming for the nearest Developmental Pediatrician. Shit, I would have.

I have a dear online friend (yes, most of my special need friends are online, and on the phone) who is dealing (I refuse to say struggling) with three special needs babies, aged between 1 and almost 5.  Today I started wondering what I would have wanted to hear from a been there done that Mum; three kids with needs, aged between 1 and 5.

* This too shall pass; Hannah is entering Kindergarden this Fall, her IEP is this week.  She is still a sensory mess, but compared to the 15 month old I literally held out like a sensory offering to Babies Can't Wait, she is eager, willing and racing towards Kindy.

*

The Meh and the heartbreak

I hear "My Heart breaks,"...."doesn't it break your heat." Even from those that have plenty enough to bear heartbreak wise. If it's not your child though, that heartbreak seems warranted, even accepted. I have read and followed many an article and thread and it seems "My heart breaks" leads the view. I can only speak from personal experience, my heart doesn't break. It just doesn't, my emotions are pulled, like a tug boat against it's will. You know you should but you don't want to, in fact beneath it all you're irritated you are asked an emotion at all. This is America where American emotion's are worn, expressed and thrown like confetti. Our real emotion, well, we don't know. We have been lead and drawn to convey and spread out emotion like a thin quilt.We cleave to theater to help us express said feelings: Golden Globe's, Oscars's. Oh trust me, I am as much to blame, I cleave the play, the distraction. I read a tweet tonight that said their "heart broke",while watching a recipient's acceptance speech. It reminded me,all the times I see similar tweets for stories about people, kids and adults how their "hearts broke," for an illness,a death,a child with cancer, that child's death from cancer, a celebrity's death. I have lived heart ache from a few seconds after Jacob was born. Not lack of love,not lack of longing but a heart ache. A knowing something didn't fit. The professional's around me knew as well. They shared the heart ache. Periodically we cried together. I lived that heart ache until he was medically diagnosed as Bipolar and Autistic. Then my heart broke. When your heart breaks it's the ache you've been carrying, it slows down, rests and stops. It's quite peaceful really. Seven years later I still carry it,although it's not an ache or a break. It's a hike. Don't laugh, that is what Autism and Pediatric Bipolar is, it's a hike. You slog, someday's you keep the head down and trudge on, someday's it's head's up and uphill and looking around. Many day's is head forward,no movement,forward,the blinker and both side's of his face, keeping him forward, his wide guide. Because those days you are his guild, compass and counselor. So,when I hear "My heart break's, my heart aches...."I think, really, my heart goes meh. I couldn't survive breaking and aching. Meh means I can aide him,all of them, and me. My heart goes meh, a lot, but it's my meh.