Um, Should I Really Tell You This?

Lately, I have some dramas or desires or plans that do not involve my children or autism.

Do you have any idea how significant that seems to me?

Whether it makes me feel guilty or giddy, selfish or lucky, or like it's a sign of progress or coming unglued, I marvel nonetheless.

You see, it's like saying, "Sometimes I forget my name." No, not exactly. Maybe it's like saying, "For a minute I thought it was a decade ago." No, not that either. Maybe it's like breathing for the first time in a record period of time. No, maybe there is just no way to say it but to say this:

It is really WEIRD when lately I sometimes find the energy in my life consumed by things other than raising my children, and how autism fits into that picture. It kind of has me all inarticulate and gaping. I am trying to figure out what to make of it.

Oh, there is PLENTY about autism keeping us busy. I mean, c'mon, it's a month til IEP. We're knee deep in decisions, debates, choices, therapies, social skills, birthdays, and facing some medical stuff for the boy Rooster that I don't feel like writing about just yet.

But sometimes there is room to think about my career. My marriage. Aging. Maybe getting the bathroom finally painted. Considering a tad bit of travel, to see family. Some of this stuff is also hard, and some of this stuff is nice. It all feels unfamiliar, and like the life of someone else.

To be honest, I am scared to publish this post.
Scared.