On death and festive zombies..

~"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome"~Isaac Asimov 

 

"Mama?  What happens to you when you die?" "Well..you know we've talked about heaven and reincarnation..all the different beliefs that.." "No..where do you go?" "What do you mean?" "Do they bury you in the ground?" Well..sometimes..I mean you have been to cemeteries before.." "You mean graveyards?" "Yeah.." "Lots of people are buried there.." "Yup".."But..But..How do they breathe?" "Well..they're dead-they don't need to breathe anymore." "How do they get out?!" "They don't need to..they have left their bodies.." "Huh?" "Oscar,   dying means that your spirit, the thing that makes you-you.. leaves your body.." "We turn into ghosts?!!"  "I don't think so..I really can't tell you exactly what happens..but..well, lots of people have different ideas about it..you know that..we've talked about it."  "I know."  Well...what do you think?" "I don't know." "Well...was there stuff you didn't understand?" "I don't know."  "Are you worried about dying?" "No.." "Well..help me out here bud..I'm not sure what you are asking me.." "Can I go on the computer?"

  Death is a tricky subject with my kids. It isn't that it's difficult..more that it is hard to explain..They all have such unique perspectives on it. When Sam was little, he came to me claiming  that "when  people die they get to be come back as something else." I thought that this was pretty cool considering he wasn't much older than three.  Lily on the other hand-is very anxious over the idea of it.  Three years ago, my sister and father passed away within six weeks of each other. .(The kids hardly knew their Grandfather and they did not know their Aunt.) It was a difficult time for me-and,because of that, it was a difficult time for my kids as well Lily was a mess. Crying all the time..having trouble sleeping..I thought that maybe she was worried about MY mortality...So, during one of her crying jags..I pulled her onto my lap..rocking her until she calmed down enough to talk.."Lil?  You know your Aunt was pretty sick..and Pop?..he was 86!"  "I know." "Well...for them..death was a good thing..or an o.k. thing.  your Aunt was in a lot of pain and she wasn't gonna get better..and Pop..he lived a really full life." "I KNOW!" "Well..I just wanted you to think about that..I mean, I'm healthy..and I'm nowhere near 86." "So." "So..I just wanted you to know that I don't plan on dying for a long time.""O.k?.".."So I don't want you to worry about me or Papa going anywhere for a long long time..o.k.?"  "But...but..I'm not worried about YOU dying!  I'm worried about...(bawling)  ME!" *sigh* so, after reassuring her that she had very little mileage and was in the best of health..that her demise was so very far into the future..she was fine. Fine. No more anxiety..no more crying..she was good to go.

  I admit, it is a tough subject to tackle with kids.  One of the ways we have discussed it-is through religion. We try and teach our kids a bit of everything. They know about Jesus, Mohammed , Buddha..You name it-and we probably have discussed it. They know of the Bible, the Koran, the Torah. But the main thing we teach is respect.That faith is personal. That it is not our place to question anyone's personal beliefs. Nor was it anyone's place to question theirs( they have them).I have really drilled in the idea that they need to respect other peoples faith and points of view.  They do a pretty good job of it...except...well..my kids can be literal thinkers..and it gets me in trouble.

  Every summer, my town celebrates itself by throwing a festival. There are rides and food..entertainment and all kinds of booths. One of the booths is run by a local church. Now, I have nothing against this particular church..but it seems that no matter what-every single summer we have been here..I have managed to offend them in some way or other. Usually because of what my kids say-or don't say.  It never fails! We'll be walking by..and someone will catch one of my kids eyes.  "Do YOU KNOW Jesus?" They'll ask. (My kids have absolutely no idea of the context in which this is meant. None.)    "No." they'll say-or even better "Who?"..immediately all eyes turn to me in disdain...as if I were somehow depriving my children of religious knowledge and salvation..it is very uncomfortable-for me.  My kids?  They don't notice..except for Sam(who I explained this to)-he thinks this is HYSTERICAL. Next year-he's taking his brother and sisters around.

 I really don't like when someone thinks I'm disrespectful of their beliefs. That is the last thing I ever want to do...well..mostly. O.K...sometimes..well..I'll tell you about this week and let you decide..

  Now, my town celebrates Halloween. We have a parade, trick or treating..a haunted house..food..it's fabulous.  This year, in honor of the holiday-we decorated the house. We had cobwebs..and "Happy Halloween" signs..and a special display of zombies....

 I thought that they looked great.  So much so..that I still have them up.  This has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with laziness or a busy schedule!  Well, this past Tuesday, as I was pulling out of the driveway, I noticed a car parked in front of my zombie display.  I thought perhaps they were enjoying our tableau..and drove off. I didn't think anything more of it until Wednesday..as I was pulling IN to my driveway..I noticed the same car was parked there. My zombies are delightful..but two days in a row? I got out of my van to investigate just as a well dressed gentleman got out of the car and walked towards me..He didn't look happy..he was actually sneering! He said "We were in the neighborhood and thought you'd be interested in this"..he handed me his tract and walked quickly away..

 As I wrote earlier, I am very respectful of religious beliefs and faith.  It is certainly not my place to judge! But this kind of got me mad. (the inside of the pamphlet basically said I was going to hell unless..blah blah blah...) My zombies were Halloween fun. That is it. They certainly weren't meant to be a religious statement.Nor were they intended to mock anyone.  So...today, in response to that pamphlet, I decided to do a little early holiday decorating...

.    I really really hope that car stops by again.  I think my zombies look festive.

The world outside our home...

~"Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away."~

 George Eliot

This post deals with mortality- just giving fair warning.

I was thinking about a conversations that I had ( years ago on another blog) on a post about stimming.  The blogger had written about her worry over peoples reaction to her sons stimming.  I said "My Oscar stims all the time..but he's so damn charming that it disarms people...maybe that will go towards changing how the world looks at these things.." Another person chimed in with "Sure, he's cute and charming NOW-but wait until he's an adult and people are scared of him..you can't change the world!!-It's pointless to try!..." I didn't bother responding to that....Although, I remember thinking "Wow-she's bitter..and not very nice". I was talking about my Oscar! My funny boy!  How could he ever NOT be charming and wonderful? How could anyone ever look at him-at his stimming and be scared?  He was four at the time.

In a few short months, Oscar will be thirteen.  Something that he likes to remind me about whenever he wants to DO something..like watch R rated movies or walk in to town by himself.  It is also something he conveniently forgets when I ask him to DO something like homework..or clean his room.  It has been nine years since I posted that comment..nine years and still that little snippet of blog conversation lives a full life in the back of my brain...occasionally worming its way to the bright lights and center stage of my thoughts.  Nine years later and I realize that the woman who I thought was bitter-was probably in reality-just really scared. I can recognize that now that (some of) my kids are on the verge of young adulthood-I can understand it too.

  We have tried to raise all of our kids to be confident in who they are. Teaching them that being kind and decent were the most important things. Stimming, eeeeing...pacing and muttering were just some of the things that made them-them. That being different was fine-great even..wonderful...spectacular!  So they thrive and they grow..because they believe me. Because I am their mother..their mom..their mama..they trust me.  Me. And on those nights when I recall that long ago conversation...when I allow myself a moment to be scared,,I wonder...have I raised them to live in how I think that the world should be instead of how the world  really is?  This is something I wrestle with.  Sometimes I feel guilty-like I am setting them up to be terribly disappointed..yet at other times I think that building their confidence, their sense of self will give them armor to get through anything.

  Anyone who has ever had the dubious pleasure of attending an IEP meeting with me has (more often than not) heard me say-quite clearly "I have to die some day.".(Mortality-the enemy of parents everywhere!) I don't say this for its shock value-I say it because it is the truth. Because if my kids don't get what they need now-how are they going to get by later-when I am no longer there?  Yes, I worry about not being there.

  I try very hard not to let my fears guide me. I admit, there is a part of me that wants to encourage them all to stay together at home(forever)...where it's "safe" and they can protect each other from the world as it is. But that wouldn't be fair-because it wouldn't be THEIR decision-THEIR choice..not really. It wouldn't be honest-because I have raised them to be who they are..regardless of how the world outside our home is. We have raised them with the fierce conviction that they have a rightful place in this world-a conviction that I believe with my entirety.  Encouraging them to hide who they are would be a contradiction. It would make what I have taught them a lie..acceptance with strings attached.  I can't do that....won't.

Way back in high school, a friend once said to me "If we you want to change how men view women in the world-raise your sons." Yet  another one of those snippets of conversation that has stayed with me-especially when I look out at the world that is outside of our home..Nine years later and Oscar is still flapping and eeeing...and he is still as charming as he was at four. Maybe I can't change the world..but I can raise my children...raise them...raise them up..and hope...and hope and hope that in some way..anyway..even if it is in a small way...the world will raise with them...

A long days journey in run-on sentences

"I grabbed hold my old guitar, and Carter started up the car
We left with no goodbyes.
Didn't know where we was heading
just as long as we was getting
places afar
We were on our own and glad to have no home
We were flying free, that crazy man and me"

From "Carters Song" by De Leopold

It has been a hectic, crazy overwhelming week here. I planned on writing all about it yesterday. I thought "I'll just get the kids off to school, fix a big cup of coffee and write" Sounds simple enough, right?.. but nothing could be further from the truth...

I woke up at my usual 5:30..hit the snooze button..5:40...hit the snooze button...5:50..You get the idea..So when 6:20 rolled around..I was a frantic half crazed woman in dire need of coffee..rousing my kids from bed with a "C'mon!! We're late!!" Rushing down the stairs in a flurry of confusion and caffeine withdrawal..only to be met by an ENORMOUS pile of dog poop.
The kind that you can't ignore and wait for your husband (the man who had to have the three dogs) to come clean it up. This was so gigantic and odoriferous, it took half a roll of paper towels and a lot of bleach to clean up.(I hadn't had coffee yet) In the mean time, Lily being in fine form, took my distraction and lack of caffeine, as her cue to antagonize everyone else-especially Sam. Now Sammy is not a morning person. He prefers to be left alone, to take his time waking up. There I am cleaning up the dog mess while at the same time "encouraging" the kids to get moving, while Lily is simultaneously singing at the top of her lungs and grabbing Sammy's feet (she was lying under the table -why? I don't know). Sammy, stomps off to the living room, furiously wiping tears from his eye saying "I'm fine! I'm not crying!!! Sigh...I try to sooth him without referring to the fact that he is indeed crying, when I hear an "oops!" from Lily...she had knocked over her cereal bowl..off the table and onto the carpet-that I can't clean because my vacuum cleaner is broken. (I can't figure out why I haven't found the time to fix it) I somehow manage to get the cereal cleaned up, kids in sweaters, backpacks packed and everyone on the bus.(without coffee) As I am waving goodbye, I happen to look down at Zoe who is standing in the doorway also waving, only she is stark naked. Crap. 7:30- I now have one hour in which to clean up the dishes, make the beds, get myself (and Zoe) dressed before the electrician shows up at 8:30. I have a doctors appointment at 11:00..so I should have plenty of time. Right. 8:30 rolls around...no electrician...9:00...nope..I call Omar..he calls the electrician. The electrician calls me at 9:30, he is going to be late. REALLY????, I reply..he doesn't get my subtle humor. 10:30 rolls around-still no electrician..I call Omar.."I have to leave!!!" He says he will cancel the electrician for the day...and for me to just go. Just go? On any other day that would be easy. Today however, there is sewer work being done in my town...so there are detours..lots of them. Thus the fifteen mile trip to the doctor turned into a 45 mile excursion....I am late but thankfully, that is o.k....the doctor can still see me. I am starting to think that maybe the day is turning around..I have had coffee, got to my appointment..It is going to be smooth sailing..Until Zoe decided that she liked the doctors waiting room...liked it so much that she threw a hissy fit when it was time to leave. I had no choice but to carry a screaming squirming child ..past the annoyed looks of other patients...out through the building and across the vast parking lot and into the van. (at least she was dressed!) Another 45 miles later-we finally got home. Where lo and behold, I found the electrician waiting for me! HA! HA! or so I thought...I told him to please wait while I opened the side door for him- To please not open the front door, as this would let the dogs out. Can you guess what he did? That's right. He opened the front door-releasing the hounds (so to speak) Who of course headed towards the sewer work and the very busy road. Back into the van I went (Zoe was still in the van-as she threw yet another fit refusing to get out when she saw that the electrician was a man, and she "DOESN'T LIKE BOYS") -Back along the detour I drove..flashers on, yelling at the dogs to get in. I felt like a deranged kidnapper, all I needed was some candy and a raincoat. Eventually, after what felt like hours, I caught up with them. I got (dragged) them into the van and back to the house. I was home free!..yeah. As I opened the door to let them in, I was greeted by an ominous presence..a whiff of foreboding..I was consumed by a sense of dread..right there, on the center of the floor...mocking me with its very presence, was a huge pile of dog poop. sigh... I just didn't have it in me to blog anymore.

I had intended to write all about Sammy. How he had just turned eleven last week, and of my sister (eleven years my senior) who died a few days later. I wanted to talk about how Sammy lives on the autism spectrum and how my sister died from cancer....about those parents of autistic children who claim that they would prefer that their kids had cancer. How very wrong and misguided I thought that they were. But instead, I wound up writing the above.

I had wanted to honor them. Sammy, for the young man he is becoming-loving, joyful-a gentle soul...and my sister-one of the most difficult, yet brilliantly talented, wickedly funny people that I have known. I wish them both peace and light. and absolutely no dog poop.

Oh Mother...

I was driving home from the market yesterday, blessedly alone...When the song "Y.M.C.A." by the Village People came on the radio. It made me think of my mother. I had always found it funny that she, a devout catholic had liked that song. I think that she actually believed it was a catchy tune about the benefits of staying at the "Y"-which it was-though not quite in the way she thought....I find it odd, my mom has been dead for almost half of my life-and yet I am still so aware of her influence on me.. Mothers are powerful people. As I look at my herd, I wonder, how much of what I say and do will affect them. I wonder, what it is about me, that they will carry forward with them into adulthood? I hope it's my sense of humor.




Lately, two of my herd have been overly interested in death. Oscar in particular. He is having trouble understanding the concept-and as it was mothers day, he wanted to know what had happened to mine.



Oscar-"Where's your mom?"



Me-"She died a long time ago"



Oscar-"Where did she die?"



Me-"Where? do you mean how?"



Oscar-"Did she leave?"



Me-"her body didn't work anymore-it was very sick...so it stopped"



Oscar-"SICK??? will she get better"



Me-"No honey, she's done with her body"



Oscar-"DONE!!! Where did she go?"



Me-"...I don't know...are you worried about me leaving?"



Oscar-"No, your mom is dead... can I have a snack?"



Me-"Are you sure you're not worried?"



Oscar-"NO!"




I'm not going to stress myself out too much about it. Death IS a hard concept to explain. I am though, quite amused by all of the "death scenes" that both Oscar and Zoe have been staging. I'll just happen to be walking through the living room, and there will be Oscar, lying on his back-hands folded over his chest and his eyes closed. "What are you doing bud?... "just being dead""O.K. have fun-dinner is in fifteen minutes"...O.K. mama." With Zoe, it's a little bit different. "Zoe, I need for you to go find your juice cup" She will then throw herself on the floor and say "Zoe isn't here-she's dead"..."O.K., when you are done being dead, go and find your juice cup please."




It would be so much easier if kids came with there own instruction books. There are days when I think that I am doing a decent job raising my herd-and then there are days where I doubt everything. If there were such thing as a "mother report card", I think that I would do o.k.- a couple of "A's",mostly "B's". Although, I know that in the comment section it would state "doesn't play well with the other mothers" I don't know what it is-my methods, my ideas...my humor-it just seems to put some mothers off. Especially, when I talk about autism.




Autism is a big part of our lives, but it is not our whole life. Yes, there are certain things that we have to do in order for our boys to feel safe and comfortable . There are routines that we follow-steps that we take to create the best possible atmosphere for them to learn and grow. The rest of the time...I just let them be. I don't worry that they only eat about five different things-because for the most part, those five things are healthy. I don't structure their play time-I don't fill every moment of their day with activities. They may be on the spectrum-but they are kids first and foremost. They need to play, ride their bikes, dig holes in the dirt, invent their own games-and if they need to flap and stim at the same time-so be it! They are learning what is and what is not appropriate through that freedom.. The world is always changing, and they have to figure out how to bend with it-or at least wiggle a little. I am not always going to be around to guide them. Part of my job is teaching them how to guide themselves. My methods might be different, but it doesn't make them wrong. ( my goodness! the reactions I got when I told some parents that I had (with permission) flapped and eeeed alongside my son-I wanted to know what it felt like-to better understand.)




I have four very unique and amazing children. I am so proud of all of them. I look at my boys and see such growth-especially in the wake of the grim prognosis we had been given for them. I have such joy...and much hope. My wish is for them to look back one day and recognize that they have always been cherished and loved-thoroughly and unconditionally. Having a sense of humor wouldn't be bad either.