It's shocking anyone believes in Santa with beards like that around!
When I was about six years old, my parents went to Ireland for three weeks. My aunt and uncle stepped up to the plate – they were a lot younger than my parents and a heck of a lot more fun. One night they let us stay up way past bedtime and watch “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”.
When my parents returned, they seemed very different. They brought us presents and allowed us access to unlimited portions of Irish chocolate. The change in them was so peculiar, it was clear in my mind that they had become victims of body snatching while on holiday. You see, my real parents would never shower us with gifts. Alien invasion was the only reasonable conclusion.
It is for similar reasons that my big kids still believe in Santa. Santa brings them stuff they know I would never buy. It is easy to believe in Santa when you are being raised by a mother who is both mean and cheap. The idea that I would actually buy toys and other nonsense is so outrageous to them that logic dictates Santa must be responsible for such kindness.
The part of me that wants to spoil them rotten and see those little faces light up loves that Santa exists. There are many things I won’t buy them because I don’t like the brand, messaging, batteries, etc. Explaining why I don’t like those products is a valuable teaching opportunity. Being Santa allows me to indulge them with something they want without having it come from Mom.
But this year I have a new dilemma. My eleven-year-old son truly believes in Santa. He also believes in the Tooth Fairy. He is not faking it or desperately/sentimentally trying to hold on to the magic. He believes in Santa because he has autism. Some things are taken very literally, and the Santa thing has played out like this:
- Mom says there is a Santa and Tooth Fairy
- Mom does not lie to me
- Therefore, there is a Santa and Tooth Fairy
I’m happy he believes for his younger siblings, but I’m breaking a sweat imagining him standing around with his buddies at recess, defending the existence of the Tooth Fairy to a bunch of Gr. 6 boys.
So, I think this is the year I have to sit him down and tell him that I’ve been lying to him for eleven years. Then ask him to keep the lie alive for his brothers and sisters. Then hope he doesn’t think I’m lying about everything else.
When we have our babies, it is natural to transform into “mama bear”, stopping at nothing to defend and protect. For the mama who has a child facing additional challenges, this instinct goes into overdrive. Having a child with autism has made me respond to certain comments irrationally. I can be oversensitive – even when comments are said in kindness or without any intention of harm.
That is my disclaimer. If you’re curious about what common and harmless things you are saying that make my ears bleed, here goes:
1) “All I want is a healthy baby.”
I get that. It makes sense to me – health is the most important gift we can ask for. But, bring out my psycho sidekick self and you want to know what it hears? It hears that the very last thing you want is a child like mine. I know that’s not really what’s being said, but it’s what the little friend in my head is hearing!
2) “Your son was born to you because you are strong and can handle it.”
I understand and appreciate this is a compliment, but in those early and difficult days when I was digesting an autism diagnosis, I wanted to scream “So let me get this straight – I’m rewarded for being a competent parent by having a kid with autism?!” My rational self knows you are encouraging me but that little crazy me is turning red, stamping feet and yelling “it’s not FAIR” better than any 4-year-old you’ve encountered.
3) “He’s lucky to have you.”
The thing is, I’m lucky to have him. When I hear how fortunate he is to have me, it makes me feel like you see him as a burden. Please remember, I feel like I picked a four-leaf clover on the morning of his birth.
So next time you say something completely innocent, and I start frothing at the mouth and growling, you’ll know that it’s a simple case of mama bear gone mad.
I’m always so chuffed when people take the time to forward something that might be of interest to me. Have a look – this clip is a beauty. A lovely teenager with autism gets his chance on the basketball court and absolutely shines – elevated to hero status by his supportive peers cheering him on. It is truly moving.
It also annoys the crap out of me.
When I see this clip, it makes me want to scream “So what? You think the only thing a kid with autism can do is fetch water for the team?” Why, oh why, did it take so long to get that kid on the court? Why, oh why, is there such shock that he can actually play well?
I think a part of it is that a lot of assumptions are made about children with autism, the most popular being that children with autism have learning disabilities. Nowhere in the diagnostic criteria for autism is there mention of learning disabilities. Basically, if a child with autism appears to be LD, chances are the professional team needs to shape up and find more effective teaching strategies. So, it’s time to stop being shocked when you meet a kid with autism who is “smart” (whatever that means). There is no reason for that kid not to be.
I’d be fine if my kid had LDs, just so happens he dodged that bullet. But either way – autism or LDs, I’d expect him to have a shot at being on the basketball team. My kid is doing the regular Gr. 5 curriculum. He started French Immersion this year, is a helpful big brother, has fun with his friends, goes to Cub Scouts, loves the ‘Bone’ books, has a growing RESP for university, drives me crazy on his Nintendo and plays an awesome game of hockey. Note that water boy duties do not make the list. I do recognize that the kid in the video gained a lot from his role as team “manager” – it provided him with the opportunity to be involved and feel a part of the team. But there’s a lesson to be learned here about expectations. Let’s set them high, folks.
I don’t want to take away from the awesomeness of this clip – the community spirit and the raw support for this kid is out of this world. I really did cry….moments before I got a little annoyed.
I go to the Mabel’s Labels HQ about two and half days a week and work from home the rest of the time. I like going to the office for the obvious reasons – it’s quiet, no one interrupts me to say they want a snack, and I get to dress up a bit (OK, admittedly “dressing up” is only about a half step up from my mama uniform).
There’s something else about the office that I like that’s tricky to describe – a certain dynamic that makes ours not your average office.
One thing is that our staff is just plain fun – a real mix of humour, passion, intelligence and quirkiness. All this while also being completely professional and skillful. It’s a tall order, but we seem to have pulled it off. I’ve always had a hard time exactly pinpointing what it was about our office dynamic that made going to work so enjoyable. I never knew how to define it until Elia came along.
Elia recently completed a co-op placement with our Production Department. She was diligent and made countless contributions during her time at Mabel’s Labels. Elia also has autism. One of the skills we appreciated most was Elia’s ability to spin a regular occurrence into something memorable.
There was one situation that we all got a kick out of – whenever Elia was placed alongside a certain male student to work; she got a little twinkle in her eye and spring in her step. She would giggle and joke with him as they worked together. Then one day she said about this student what I have not been able to summarize about our work environment. She said “Oh Alex, you’re contagious!”
Contagious! That was the word that best describes our staff team – we hire people who are contagious. To celebrate Elia’s completion of her term with us, we had an office ice-cream party. Even though Elia is back at school and done here at Mabel’s Labels, her contagious personality will not be forgotten anytime soon.
Since most parents are not particularly fond of whining, “you get what you get and you don’t get upset” is a common mantra in many households. It is most often heard immediately following annoying requests such as “but I wanted to sit in THAT chair” or “no, not the blue plate, the RED one!”
The adult version of “you get what you get” is when you have a baby. Not a lot of social engineering is involved so you can’t exactly order a baby of a particular gender or personality type. You can’t even count on baby being healthy so parents everywhere have to take what we get.
When my son was diagnosed with autism, I was pretty darn sad. I quickly realized that it was time to look myself in the mirror and scream the mantra. Being upset was not going to help me and it certainly was not going to contribute to my son’s development.
My SIL had to say the mantra to herself a few years ago upon discovering she was pregnant for the third time. She had two little boys already but being pregnant again was not the issue. Indeed, she had decided to quickly squeak in one more baby, preferably a girl, before changing her mind on going for a third child altogether. You can likely predict the ending – instead of that little girl, she got identical twin boys landing her in the glamorous position of being a mama to four boys under four.
Despite our reproductive plans going a bit pear-shaped, both my SIL and I have survived our adventures with laughs and a lot of love. Strangely, we’ve experienced some disapproval from those on the outside. While pregnant with the twins, my SIL had to listen to comments such as “oh, how awful!” when announcing she was having two more boys. People have expressed that I must be crazy to have more kids considering my risk of having another child with autism. I get that raising a kid with autism or having babies two at a time may not be on everyone’s “bucket list” of things to do before dying, but I can think of worse things.
So we grown-ups get what we get, and as you have probably figured out for yourself – getting upset is pretty much pointless. I can’t imagine a world without my boy and I can assure you that my SIL wouldn’t trade in “Thing One” and “Thing Two” for the most adorable girlie pink princess up for offer.
The Mabelhood is the sum of all blogs, combining posts from Mabel Labels' bloggers Julie Cole, Caitlin Madden and a cast of guest bloggers. The Mabelhood documents the daily dramas of a group of people raising families and a label making business, plus everything else in-between.
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