You think I'm happy?!?!?!

"You get what you get and you don't get upset.
Be happy that you have anything at all."

I hear the Kiddo playing this song from one of his ten thousand children's music Cd's that he prefers to keep scattered all over his room.  (Why keep them in their protective cases when you can scratch them up?)

I can make a thousand jokes in this blog and social media. I can proclaim that it's more fun to laugh than to cry.  I can sit here and tell you that the world moves on despite hearing your child has autism.  It doesn't mean that I have to be happy all the time with this life.

Because if I was, that would be bat shit crazy.

And if I was, you would probably want to know what type of medication was I on and what dose.

Or if I was in drunk.

Or possibly visiting my relatives in Colorado.

It is extremely stressful to live with someone with autism.  It's extra stressful when you start to discover in yourself that you are right there with them with the sensory processing component, anxiety and social confusion.  Sometimes I swear the Kiddo and I are just sitting around my house trying to "out quirk" each other.  He's winning by a landslide most days.  He's the kiddo. I'm the mom. Of course, his needs come first. That's a given.

But what about his "wants'.  You know what I mean?  His tween age hissy fits of stomping around and eye rolling so epic I'm convinced they'll will get stuck in the back of his head.  He's eleven.  He's an only child.  The husband and I refer to him in sentences like the following.

"Did you run it by The Boss?"

"I don't know about this.  You better not let The Boss find out!"

"Did The Boss like it?"

We've made it quite clear who's running French Fry Inc and it's not us.  I don't think it ever has been.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't mind.  I'm flipping tired. I'd like the Boss to give my co worker and I a day off.  Hell, I've been working for the company a long time now. Haven't we accrued some vacation time by now?

Even though you get what you get, I will get upset.  Thinking an autism parent can be perfectly happy and content all the freaking time is effing insane.   You want me to be totally accept it?  Let me have that process of getting there.  Realize I will have my moments where I'll run to it and away from it with equal passion.

I am happy with my Kiddo but am I always happy with our situation? Depends what day you ask me.  Or hour.  Or minute.  That's just where I'm at with this at the moment and I make no apologies for it. This life gets to me.  Don't let the humor fool you.  I have just as many shitty parenting moments as anyone else.  Sometimes, I really relish in the pity parties I throw myself too.

But he's the only thing I got.  So I blow my nose.  Splash water on my face.  Pour myself another cup of coffee and make him another side of fries.