Sunday, November 9, 2014

Thats me....Thats us

That's me, standing partially on a soccer field biting my nails.  I never bring a chair, I have never been able to sit down.  That's me, holding my head in my hands, then moments later holding my crying sons head in them also.

He wanted to play a sport and soccer is what he chose.  Coming out of an amazing year in Kindergarten and a relatively calm summer, I chose to put him in an intermurals team that was for typical children.  I may have made a mistake.....no, I made a mistake.

That's me running between two fields, one with my four year old daughter and the other with my son. That's me missing my daughters first goals because I have to wonder if my son will hit yours.  This is me looking like a basket case on the sidelines crying, crying because my son can't process and handle his emotions when your son says he's stupid.

There are days I wish I could hang a sign around my neck, or our necks that say "my son has Autism....yes i know he doesn't look it"  (whatever the F that means) .  I use to think the sticker on my car was obvious enough but, its not.  You see my son, he looks like your son...except mine is talking obsessively about numbers.  My son is socially awkward and anxious and your son picks that up.

That's me pacing up and down the sidelines, I see whats going to happen before it does.  That's me yelling "Frankie!" .  I'm sure half the parents think I'm some psycho helicopter parent, I don't want to be.  I want your kid to stay safe, my sons new response to your child's unkind words it to kick him.

Your kid kicked my kid....because my son is "weird".  You respond, "just stay away from him, stay away from that kid".  That's me wiping away my tears.  As much as bullying words hurt, parents telling their children to stay away from my son, that hurts just as much.  That's me dragging my sobbing son off a soccer field for running full force into another child....for no real reason.  Maybe you think I'm overly strict, maybe you think I'm being too hard on him.  That's me dragging him off early because i can't stand to cry in front of you all.

That's my son.....walking to apologize to your son....who ignores him because he was instructed to stay away from that kid.  Mine stands there defeated and yells, "I tried, they walked away"

That's us....walking off the field, defeated.  I waited to cry till I thought my son couldn't see me.  He saw me, he began to sob himself.  He made promises I know he can't keep, we have one more day of soccer, he made me promises.

The next time you see people like me, a family like us.....give them the benefit of the doubt.  Don't assume that child is bad, don't assume that mother is incompetent, teachyour children to be kind.

One....More.....Practice......God, let him get through that last practice, I'm going to have a positive attitude, because that's just me.

2 comments:

  1. Don't apologise for hoping for the best, when deep in your heart you know it might go pear shaped. Sometimes it works out, sometimes not so much, but you need to keep trying, and keep providing the same opportunities for him as everyone else. I've been that Mum too and probably will be for some time to come.

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  2. Are coach/players/parents aware? A 5-minute talk with them before/after practice/game will likely yield some friends/allies.

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