Why I'm here bending your ear...

I've considered off and on for quite some time now about writing a blog.  I have waffled on getting started for many reasons, many of which boil down "why would anybody read what I blog about anyway?"  And I've wondered if it is conceited to want to write about my life and publish it for the world (kind of) to read.  Ultimately, I came to the following conclusions: a)  I don't care if anyone reads my writing, and b) writing about my life is a very inexpensive form of therapy for me.  The most this blog may cost me is a laugh at my expensive-- a price I am willing to pay to feel sane at the end.  :)

So what do I have to share, you might ask?  Is this going to be another monolog by some SAHM that has nothing better to do than overshare online?  Maybe, but I hope not.



My life is hectic, as are most lives these days.  There are plenty of things about my life that make my friends say "you poor thing... I don't know how you do it!"  I have a husband that travels a lot for work, leaving me as the primary grown-up at our house most of the time.  I have in my possession the smelliest, silliest, most ridiculous dog that is constantly "renovating" things around my house.  I work in the public school system as a substitute teacher.  Last, but not least, I am the mother of twin 7-yo girls, one who has her feet firmly planted in the land of Autism and the other who lives on the outskirts of town and occasionally makes a visit to the Big A.

The things that make my life hectic also make it wonderful! (Except for maybe the travelling husband-- I wouldn't mind having him around more.)  My smelly, insatiable dog makes me laugh.  My crazy job makes me grateful of what I have.  My quirky, imperfect children make me perfectly happy because they are perfect in my eyes.

My girls.  The reason I get up in the morning.  The reason I cry.  The reason I laugh out loud-- a lot.  The reason I go to bed each night exhausted.  The reason I live.

Had I known when my two darlings were growing inside my tummy that autism would be a part of their future, I'm not sure that I would have been able to be excited about being a mom.  The word autism is such a scary word.  It means so many things and most of them aren't good if you believe everything that you see on tv.  I am afraid that I would have mourned for the loss of my "perfect child" before I ever met her.  As luck would have it, I couldn't know so my excitement and optimism flourished as it should.

After my girls were born and began to grow, I started realizing that there were differences in my two little ladies.  Eventually, these differences couldn't be written off to "children grow and develop at different rates" and we had to face the fact that our Princess was autistic.  (The story of how we got to that diagnosis is a story for another day.)  I was sad for her for a while, but mostly I am hopeful for her because once you know what you're dealing with, you can deal.  Autism is not a death sentence.  It is an obstacle around which I have to help my daughter navigate in order for her to be successful.  I have every confidence that this will be the case.  She is a very high functioning child with a mind that is sharp as a tack and a wonderful sense of humor.  She also has the advantage of having an identical twin, Birdie, that is only marginally on the spectrum.  The two work together to learn how to tackle life.  They are inspiring, supportive of one another, and the world's funniest comedic duo.

...which brings me back to why I am bending your ear.

The things my Princess and Birdie do that make me laugh, cry, scratch my head in confusion, and sometimes just throw up my hands in frustration are the things I need to blog about.  I know that there are plenty of parents out there with children (autistic or not) that need to feel that their version of a normal life is normal enough.  I think that must be my main objective-- to prove that nobody's normal can be defined by another's definition.  I think I also just need to write down some of the events of my life so that I can laugh at them in lieu of crying.  Like I said earlier, this could be therapeutic.  :)