Sometimes I hesitate to share stories of mothering my child on the spectrum. My biggest strategy to share with parents or friends or teachers of people who happen to live along the spectrum is to do the best you can and follow the lead of love.
This morning Samuel’s frustration reached a peak when he scolded me, saying with intense anger, “Man, too many prompts.” It made me wonder how regularly he heard a teacher say that in his presence, more than likely talking to or about someone else.
He doesn't like to be prompted more than once, nor do I. I was busily breaking Samuel code, though, and on mornings when he is upset about something I can't see, it is best to focus and live according to the spectrum programming.
I didn’t say anything in response. I bowed my head and focused on my pen, thinking, “He has no idea how hard I try to be just the right Mommy for him. He is captured at times, at the mercy of, his own ritual.” People would argue with me to break him of ritual. I do as much as I can, but at times like this morning ~ I don’t interfere with it.
He was in a snit and his rituals comfort him, just like we prefer going to a familiar place or hanging out with our favorite people.
We sat in silence as I wrote until Samuel started giggling about something, a sound he heard, I think it was. I looked up and he was giggling while looking at me, inviting me into his giggle fest.
I wrote, "He sits and laughs. I sit and write what he is doing. I laugh because he has invited me to laugh."
This is how we find our way back to each other: mother and son, love and love.
Is there some sort of conclusion here, to this blog entry?
Is there a “moral of the story” or a “this is how you could make the rest of your life just right by following my guide” coming in the next sentence or two.
No. Not at all.
There is the line you just read, “find our way back, mother and son, love and love.”
That is more than enough.
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© 2011
Julie Jordan Scott
This is post 21 of 31 in July for the Ultimate Blog Challenge ~
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