To the lady at the bookstore
Dear lady at the bookstore,
You have been my nemesis for a couple of years now..you just don't know it.
I know your precious angel of a daughter is probably the brightest and smartest child you've ever seen..and from what I can tell the first and only for now.
Yet, you live in the world i call "typical universe". You don't have any idea what it's like on my side Of the fence. And,really...how could you?
I see your nicely showered and presentable self, as you prowl through the bookstore for brand new books to buy and read to your daughter. And, to watch you proudly prance around, praising yourself for scolding my son for taking one of the bookstores trains from your daughter. In which, by the way, we won't mention how impolite it is for her to walk around the children's section with it, without ever playing with it on the appropriate Thomas the train table..and the two main engines, at that. Why not let her roam with it wherever she pleases, after all, she is a princess, right..and you are spending enough money there to get away with that, right...?!!
You have broken my pride many of times, have pushed me to confusion at other times. I wonder if I should tell you he is autistic..or not mention because it's perceived as an excuse. In any case, what parent should be so good at explaining their child? And, so you know...I am quite good at it. Everyday to ABA therapy, as school starts it will also be everyday for his teachers, his occupational therapists once a week, our occasional family Every time we talk on the phone, and now, it's also you..!! But, I'm too exhausted to muster up the words..this is supposed to be fun for my son. So, I sit, and I let you judge me.
I wonder what it feels like to be you. When I was carrying my son, my first, I had all sorts of dreams, expectations, all those things you feel for your child..I felt that...only, my reality turned out different..my dreams weren't for him..and everyday feels
like I'm taking two steps forward and three back..yet, I know we are making progress.
So yes, I watch you..I see you..and you are always there. I see what you say behind those cutting eyes, without even saying anything. "what's wrong with your son, or (me)as a parent..?"..and, I sigh..I bow my head and start to struggle with my anger..and leads me to think of how stupid I used to be..and how I never want to be like that again. And, you cannot change the world fighting fire with fire..it's pouring water on the fire...that makes a difference.
My son, in four years, his life..his autism, the way he is..has changed the way I see the
world..myself..and it is hard..and it is frustrating..but, could you offer me a little "water" a little grace..a little bit understanding, and a small bit of encouragement..the next time we meet.
Because I know..we'll meet again...
You have been my nemesis for a couple of years now..you just don't know it.
I know your precious angel of a daughter is probably the brightest and smartest child you've ever seen..and from what I can tell the first and only for now.
Yet, you live in the world i call "typical universe". You don't have any idea what it's like on my side Of the fence. And,really...how could you?
I see your nicely showered and presentable self, as you prowl through the bookstore for brand new books to buy and read to your daughter. And, to watch you proudly prance around, praising yourself for scolding my son for taking one of the bookstores trains from your daughter. In which, by the way, we won't mention how impolite it is for her to walk around the children's section with it, without ever playing with it on the appropriate Thomas the train table..and the two main engines, at that. Why not let her roam with it wherever she pleases, after all, she is a princess, right..and you are spending enough money there to get away with that, right...?!!
You have broken my pride many of times, have pushed me to confusion at other times. I wonder if I should tell you he is autistic..or not mention because it's perceived as an excuse. In any case, what parent should be so good at explaining their child? And, so you know...I am quite good at it. Everyday to ABA therapy, as school starts it will also be everyday for his teachers, his occupational therapists once a week, our occasional family Every time we talk on the phone, and now, it's also you..!! But, I'm too exhausted to muster up the words..this is supposed to be fun for my son. So, I sit, and I let you judge me.
I wonder what it feels like to be you. When I was carrying my son, my first, I had all sorts of dreams, expectations, all those things you feel for your child..I felt that...only, my reality turned out different..my dreams weren't for him..and everyday feels
like I'm taking two steps forward and three back..yet, I know we are making progress.
So yes, I watch you..I see you..and you are always there. I see what you say behind those cutting eyes, without even saying anything. "what's wrong with your son, or (me)as a parent..?"..and, I sigh..I bow my head and start to struggle with my anger..and leads me to think of how stupid I used to be..and how I never want to be like that again. And, you cannot change the world fighting fire with fire..it's pouring water on the fire...that makes a difference.
My son, in four years, his life..his autism, the way he is..has changed the way I see the
world..myself..and it is hard..and it is frustrating..but, could you offer me a little "water" a little grace..a little bit understanding, and a small bit of encouragement..the next time we meet.
Because I know..we'll meet again...
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