Note To Self

Dear G,
Oh, sweetie. On the one hand, I want to give you some tough love. It's for your own good that I tell you how unattractive everyone finds your incessant indulgence in pity parties. On the other hand, I realize pity parties are the only kind you get to go to recently, and for that I feel like hugging you, and giving you the opposite of tough love... just love.

I'll try to be even handed.

Okay, here is some advice for you. I want you to take a deep breath and think back to that 21 hours of alone time you and J had this past weekend. Remember? Ahhh, breathe it in all the way to your core. You were a lucky girl to get to celebrate your anniversary, and I sure hope you banked the good vibes of that little getaway so you can use them now.

This is a tough week, I can't help but grant you that, but it's NOT the end of the universe. Try to remember that the Rooster will be better off at a new school, and that you will enjoy the benefits of a little separation of church and state, so to speak. I know for all your stress that you are actually happy to have a new school for him, you are just worried about the niggling what ifs and uncertainties... no one invents stuff to worry about like you do, but try not to do that to yourself so much, please.

And yes, this IEP comes at the world's worst time ever possible, but you'll get all work done before the meeting, and no one has ever died from missing a few graduations, retirement parties, and celebrations. In a way, it's ironic that missing parties and events lately makes you so sad; aren't you the same girl who used to complain half the time about the events you did have to attend? So chin up, babe... you'll be glad you didn't eat all those calories.

Not everybody hates you, you can stop eating worms... you completely exaggerate in your own mind how much attitude you get, and tomorrow I want you to focus on the support you feel from your most supportive friends and colleagues. If you can't feel the obvious compassion around you, reread your blog comments. Only a fool would fail to feel supported after that. You are so lucky; don't take it for granted. That would be doing a disservice to so many wonderful people all around you.

You know what I think your real issue is, G? And I say this with all the best intentions: you haven't gotten over this whole autism thing, and instead you've been convincing yourself it's something you can't handle. Well, sorry, but I remember you sitting on the floor in your condo close to six years ago negotiating with the universe to give you a child, to please not let you miscarry, because you would do ANYTHING for this baby, ANYTHING, and you got a beautiful little boy. You keep touching the bruises from each day like you want to feel each injury over and over again, and it isn't healthy... why do you replay each slight and every comment about his "special needs" in your head that way? To see if it still hurts? Maybe you need to repeat after me 3000 times until you've reached real acceptance, "My son has autism." Maybe then we can be done with it and get back to business, the business of raising your beautiful, delicious, smart, feisty, difficult children. Your son has autism. He also has cute curls, a darling vocabulary, kissable cheeks, an impressive imagination... and, yeah, there is also the autism. Deal with it. I am sorry if that sounds too harsh, because I'm not trying to hurt you; rather, I'm trying to show you that you are NOT hurt, you are OKAY. You don't always realize it, but you are.

Yes, you didn't get dealt the really easy hand. But there are so, so much worse cards you could have gotten, my friend. You used to proclaim proudly that you LIKED hard things, that you welcomed challenges. Okay, be the kind of leader you like to imagine. Make it work. Lemme see some lemonade, sister.

A long time ago you were a lonely girl wishing and hoping for more. You wanted love, teamwork, obstacles to overcome, family, new beginnings, and stories. Well, nothing is perfect. You got your wishes, G, all that and more, and what you got is really good stuff. You can choose to wallow in the sh*t that comes along with your life, or you can realize that sh*t comes along with EVERY life and you can celebrate all the goodness in spite of that. There is goodness aplenty for anyone willing to see it.

Oh, stop crying already. I'm tired and I had an epic day, and I've got two substantially longer ones to go, so can we wrap this up now? You know I love you. And you know I'm right. Now let's go to bed.