The Halfhearted Hippie

Have you ever been bitter about something for years without even knowing that was the emotion you felt until it hit you like a ton of bricks?

Well, if you haven't, just pretend with me. I'll start from the beginning, I suppose. 

I've always been fairly "natural minded". I have no idea where the inclination comes from. But I'd picked out the midwife group I would use prior to even becoming pregnant, at 19 years old. I knew I wanted to do things naturally for birth, and of course my research crazy self went on to discover breastfeeding, cloth diapering, attachment parenting...and when I started out as a young mom, I was so very proud of myself because I thought I was doing the very best for my baby. I mean, everything I read told me that by doing all these things, my kid would be healthier. As Diva Girl grew, it seemed like she had that promised health. She was rarely ever sick, never needed antibiotics. Her development was perfect. She happily munched on all manner of organic veggies (I was so incredibly obnoxious, I'm sure, bragging about how much she loved broccoli.)

And then? Shortly before her third birthday she was diagnosed with a rare autism spectrum disorder, Childhood Disintegrative Disorder. 

I felt....cheated. I was doing everything right, how could I end up with a child with, you know, "issues"? So then I thought- I can fix this! I read and read and saw people using diets and vitamins and I thought- YES! Up my crunchy alley!

Only, she didn't get better. She just ate less. And still lost skills and words.

So, we stopped. I mean, I still went on to have two homebirths and nursed the boys and that kind of stuff. But any time someone would suggest something "natural minded" to me, I would pretty much ignore them. A little part of me would just think- yeah, right, like that would actually work.

And I never really realized that somewhere along the way, I'd become this incredibly bitter person. I was so angry that I did all this research and invested so much of my time and effort and money and belief into a "natural lifestyle" only to be let down by it. And then, the almost daily barrage of people "informing" me that they or their cousin's sister's best friend's daughter had cured their kid by doing GFCF/going all organic/cleansing toxins from vaccines/using supplements. Each suggestion was like an annoying kick to my wounded self. I became defensive of my previous attempts at some of these things and of my current penchant of feeding my kids gluten laden nuggets and milkshakes. So somehow, all of this swirled around in my brain and I became this really inwardly nasty and closed off person from almost anything anyone would suggest to me to help anything from a cold to sleepless nights.

Of course, eventually I realized that I'm not looking to cure Diva Girl, especially after Rascal and Vlad came along with their own diagnoses. And I am sure that there are families out there that have been helped by the things I listed above. But my family isn't one of them. And that's ok. 

So I need to let it go.

I need to not get insanely defensive when someone recommends garlic and honey for my cold. I need to not go all inward eyeroll when anyone mentions GFCF. I need to let go of the bitterness. Because really, we are alright. Actually, my kids are fairly fabulous. Plus, they probably could use a good probiotic and multivitamin. And I kind of miss being a hippie sometimes. Maybe now, though, you can just call me the halfhearted hippie. 

Free To Change

I've always been a rather opinionated gal about certain things. Opinionated and, um, enthusiastic.

When I first started having kids, I was practically a hippie (not really, but that's what people tend to call us natural minded types.) I think all I could talk about during Diva Girl's first year of life was breastfeeding and natural birthing and vaccines and cloth diapers and baby carriers. I plunged head first into what was essentially a new culture to me.

Then autism came along. And while I was still having babies and caring about all of those things above, my focus switched. I inhaled books and studies and therapy ideas. For a solid three years, my focus was on autism, and early on I formed just as many strong opinions on how to be an autism mom as I did when I was focused on being a good attachment parenting mom.

Oh, how time changes things.

I think I may be both a less and more judgmental person now.

I gave up on cloth diapering with Vlad. When he weaned himself at 14 months, I was relieved. I am even reconsidering my stance on vaccinations (insert gasp here.) My kids eat chicken nuggets more than is possibly healthy. And for a woman who was allllll about attachment parenting and had planned to homeschool, I am more than happy to wave goodbye to all three kids every Monday morning. Getting in the highest  amount of therapy is no longer a priority. I go days without reading anything autism related, and even actively avoid reading the latest "Scientists discover the maybe, thinly possible, not actually proven link to the cause of autism!"

Admitting some of this is hard. Nobody wants to be the person who shouts an opinion from the mountaintops, only to recant later down the road. It makes me feel like a flake.

But the truth is, change is good. Change means that you are a growing, living, learning person. I'm still a judgmental person because I judge the person I used to be, and those who I meet who are like that. The ones who know it all. Who think that being right is better than being nice.

Honestly, I'm still there. I have those moments. You know, when someone says something on facebook and I see it as my duty to let them know just how wrong they are. Ugh, I can be utterly obnoxious.

I am learning. Learning how to change without being embarrassed by it. How to look at how other's are doing things differently without feeling as though it is a statement against what I am doing. I'm learning how to check out of the grocery store without being embarrassed by the dichotomy between the organic baby spinach and dino shaped chicken nuggets. Embracing being a happily public schooling attachment parent.
Learning how to adapt. And how to own up to my shortcomings both past and present.

I'm sure I will be passionate about something again, only to change my mind later on. Feel free to not point that out to me. Just love me anyway, flaws and all. I'll try to give you the same courtesy.

Fraternizing with Typical Folk

Today I met up with a local group of moms at a coffee house, with Vlad and Diva Girl in tow.

Crazy part of this story? They all had typical kids. It wasn't a meetup of the mom's in my special needs group, or of the ones from the autism therapy center. Just a group of local moms that generally follow attachment parenting. Did you even know that I did that? I'm a homebirthing, babywearing, former cloth diapering, cosleeping, hippie. Believe it or not, I have interests and an identity outside of autism.

Or at least, that's what I like to tell myself.

Honestly, I've stuck mostly with my autism mom friends for the past few years. I have a couple of close friends who have walked through this whole thing with me that have typical children, or no children at all. But in general, I don't go seeking out anyone outside of Autism World.

So, why did I this time? I'm not entirely sure. I guess that sometimes I get tired of my life revolving around autism, especially when there are other aspects of my parenting that I enjoy talking about. This group also meets up to walk/run/hike....all these things I think about doing and want to do, but never actually do. I've been a part of this group on facebook for a good 6 months and still hadn't attended a single meetup even though I had the best of intentions. Why? Because, well, I was scared.

I was scared that I would talk too much and have too little in common with them.
I was scared they would judge my kids. Judge my parenting.
I was scared that no one would talk to me.
I was scared that I wouldn't be able to shut up about autism.
I was scared that they would pity me.
I was scared that I would be jealous of them.

You know what? None of that happened. I mean, I did talk a bit too much about autism. Not sure if I can altogether help that. But I also talked about babywearing and beauty and houses and all these other gloriously normal things. My kids were great. Vlad tottered around and then passed out while snuggling with me in his carrier. Diva Girl munched on ice and crackers and played on her iPad. She may not have seemed social, but she had a blast. Everyone was nice. I laughed, and related, and was only slightly awkward. I didn't just survive that gathering, I actually enjoyed myself!

I can't help but wonder how many times I've deprived myself from going out and enjoying time with others based on those fears. They aren't completely irrational fears, I have good reasons for every one of them. People have been ignorant and hurtful at times. And at other times, I have been too deep in the depths of the grieving process to allow myself to enjoy the company of those who don't understand this journey. But I don't have a good reason to let those experiences stop me from trying again. It's not something that I allow from my children, so why should I push myself any less than I push them? You pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and try again. Today, I'm glad I did.

Now, I have no idea what they thought of me. But I think I will go back. I think I can handle just a bit of life outside of the autism bubble. Here's to hoping that they let me stick around.

I confess: I tried really hard to make sure I at least looked normal today/