And The Winner Is...

You know those moms who seem to sit idly by and stare into space while junior proceeds to rip Nana's new carpet off the floor with tantrum-like strength? It's like a tornado whips right past her face and she looks like she's still making her grocery list in her head.

Yeah, I want to scream at them too. Maybe even punch them in the face a little.

Problem is, I may have made the cross-over myself. I think I am her.

Let me put it this way: there are days when autism wins. I give up. Today is one of those days. Rowen could explode in front of me and my expression would seem to glaze over while my mind tries to go to a happy place. I know all the tools but accessing them every moment of every day is exhausting. I don't mean to say I've given up on Rowen, because that will never happen. I guess I give up on myself sometimes. I. Can't. Do. It. Today.

Today Rowen was trying to write his name upside-down and the fear started to grow. I feared he would mess up and then all hell would break loose. As he wrote the letters, my nerves started to rev up like Paris Hilton would feel if you took her credit card away. R... phew. O...phew again. W... ok maybe he will make it home here. E...

THWAP! (Sound of Rowen hitting the floor in an Incredible Hulk tantrum, face as red as a tomato after messing up the "E".)

Here's where the documentary film crew would pan in on mom. The overwhelmed, oh-my-gosh-he's-doing-it-again mom who despite all the fabulous tools in her arsenal, just checks out. Sure I try to soothe him and talk him through it, but it's a delicate balance between that and wanting to explode myself.

It may not seem this way to some, but almost every moment of every day feels like I am on autism duty. There's not much of a break. Even Magnum P.I. would let the bad guy get away once in awhile if he was chasing bad guys 24/7/365. Did I just say Magnum P.I.? I meant to say something much younger, like Justin Bieber. Yeah, I totally love the Biebs. Is that how I'm supposed to say it?

So let's give a little slack to the mom that may or may not deserve a punch in the face for letting junior run the show. Maybe she's not the idiot mom we all think she is. Maybe she just needs a nap. Maybe she just needs a little break from autism. I know I do.