Since having children, I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot. It’s not that I don’t love my children or don’t want to spend time with them. It is that since having kids, it is hard to find time for myself. And of course, in comes that thief of joy, comparison. I have friends who are exercising every day, reading books, doing art projects, volunteering, hanging out with each other. What am I doing? Learning how to play Myst and code with Scratch. I’m reading about autism and taking my kid to therapy. My parents never played with me, or not once I got to the age where I remembered anything. It’s therefore not what I expected to have to do with my children. As I was left alone most of my childhood, it is what I am comfortable with. As an introvert, sometimes it is what I need.

Some of my mom friends can leave their children to their own devices and their kids are fine. They can leave them alone in the house, and they are safe. I remember when my children were toddlers who needed constant supervision. I would watch people without children, or people with older children, sitting and drinking their coffee and chatting and not worrying about their kids. I was so jealous and I felt so left out. I was angry that no one ever came over to help or chat with me while I was running after my insane escape artists. I used to think, 1) I won’t forget the moms of toddlers when my kids grow up, and 2) one day my child won’t need this much attention. Well number one is true, but number two is still out of reach.

We went to a birthday party this weekend. It was at a pumpkin patch, and there were tons of people there. Finn wanted me to go everywhere with him, while my friends sat and chatted. Then we came back to the party, just to find everyone walk away to wander around the different activities. It is the way things go with an ND kid.

So, how to flip this? Yes I still felt left out, yes I still felt friends could have been more aware. But as I watched them walk away, I only felt a mild sadness, not the knife in my heart that I used to feel. This is my life, our life. I’m glad he wants to spend time with me, and I know I need to solidify this relationship if we ever want to survive teenage years. Over the past six months I have intentionally worked on building a companionship with my child, and the payoff is that he’s no longer suicidal, that he’s out of defense mode more often, and he trusts me and looks to me for safety and support. This is worth it.