Parenting for Real, Not for Show

 I've been thinking for quite some time about getting a Twitter account and Facebook page for The Mothering Daze.  Not that I expect it to go viral or anything; I'm not THAT interesting.  I just want to put my experiences with autistic children (and life in general) out there in case it helps anyone.  One of the things stopping me is that I don't have any sort of logo or background banner.

Yesterday I asked Rowan (12) if he could make one for me.  He did!  --On Microsoft Paint, so its quality is questionable, but I still love it.  It sort of embodies my life.  Anyway, while he worked on that I busied myself with creating accounts for myself.

Enter Henry (9):  "Mama, will you play Multiplication Splat! with me?"

"Not right now, honey," I replied, still working.  Type, type, type.  Look at Rowan's design.  Revise.  More typing.

Henry again:  "Will you play Multiplication Splat! with me?"

It suddenly occurred to me what I was doing.  There I was, being all lofty and wanting to spread my words to everyone about what a fantastic job I was doing with parenting, and I was putting off my own child, right there in front of me, just wanting to play a game.

Rowan and I stopped what we were doing.  We went to the table and played the game.  And it was FUN!  Rowan said it's his new favorite.  Henry won both rounds.

It's no secret that I struggle with depression.  Depression has a nasty way of making me close off from people and try to hide in my own space.  Obviously I can't really get away from my children, because they can't be left alone, so for me it looks like sitting in my chair with a book or my phone.  I make plans to clean my house or do fun things, but any slight interruption or deviation causes me to abandon everything.

I think the start of school has been really good for both my children and me.  We've been forced to get on a regular sleeping/waking schedule.  They are with friends and good teachers, and I am given the space I need to unwind.  Well, except that I've been exceedingly busy helping plan a complete kitchen redesign.  But I'm planning it with ADULTS, which means my constant awareness of my children can be put on pause.

And so I've been gradually emerging from my self-imposed isolation.  I emptied a box and donated the contents.  I mopped my floor.  I played a card game with my sons.  And this morning I snuggled Henry in my armchair, cuddling him for a good ten minutes longer than was strictly safe for getting him to school on time.

One day at a time.  One step forward, then another.