I Admit It- I Voted Romney- Take Me to Jail!

I am up writing this at 2 a.m. because I am having a hard time sleeping thinking about what happened to us and the kind of world we live in today. I know this is usually a platform to talk about autism, but I am going to go a bit off-topic tonight. I'd go almost as far as to say we were victims of a hate crime tonight. Not what you'd think of happening to your average suburban couple with two kids and a tree house in the backyard, but nonetheless I think that's exactly why we fly under the radar.

This past evening, on this Memorial Day, my husband, Brenner, took our boys in the driveway while I was cooking dinner and set off a few piddly fireworks. Maybe it wasn't the best choice in retrospect, but we've been here almost 5 years and have done the same every year without complaint. This year we got a big complaint, complete with police and my autistic son in his room crying because he thought his daddy was going to be cuffed and taken away.

So here's the scene and then you can decide, because ultimately it's up to you and me to change things like this. I was inside making dinner after a day of taking the kids to a birthday party and street festival where they jumped the afternoon away in inflatables. Rowen talked about firecrackers, and lit up at the idea that daddy would take him outside to set a few off. Nothing new around here.

As Brenner was outside, he saw our 3-doors-down neighbor come out of his house with a phone and walk halfway to our house before turning around. Saying nothing, Brenner hadn't though too much about it until he came out again and laid into him, very loudly I might add and without any reserve. I have to mention at this point that our neighbor is gay, only because the rest of this wouldn't make sense unless I pointed out that very fact.

Our neighbor (who by the way I couldn't pick out in a line up because I've never witnessed him out of his house in the entire time we've lived here) came screaming obscenities at Brenner in front of my youngest son and the rest of the neighborhood. I probably won't get the entire conversation perfectly, but it went something like this:

Neighbor (again, don't even know his name): "You a**hole! You can't set off fireworks in the neighborhood! There are RULES! I called the cops!"

Brenner: "Sorry man, why didn't you just come down and tell me?"

Neighbor: "You are scaring everyone in the neighborhood!"

Brenner: "What are you talking about? You mean your dogs?!"

Neighbor: "Yes, you homophobic prick! I saw the sign in your yard!"

Um, you mean the Romney sign we had in our yard 7 months ago? Shoot, did we not read the fine print? Did it say "We are voting for Romney because we are homophobic pricks?" Man, we really should read the fine print better.

So here is where it obviously became less about firecrackers and more about his assumptions- big, wildly stretched assumptions about us because we had a political sign in our yard. I think we may know now who stole our sign. How completely childish we thought that was at the time, and now feeling even more so based on this altercation.

Our neighbor went on to say a number of expletives with my son wandering in the driveway (I'm still inside oblivious, making dinner) including "F- you and F- your Jesus" after Brenner did admittedly get in a somewhat jabbing retort that all knees will bow before Jesus based on what a jerk this guy was making of himself.

Brenner: "My son has never heard these words before and I don't want him to hear it!" (Meaning the F-bomb, which probably isn't entirely true because mom did drop it once out of sheer anger at the misunderstandings some people have over autism- no excuses there, but nonetheless I admit it!)

Neighbor: "Well get used it it, because this is the real world. It's a good thing you only make up the one-percent (meaning Christians- really where does this guy get his facts?) because I don't have to worry about you!" He then turned to walk away and yelled "You homophobic, racist, white trash, piece of shit!"

Wow. Our sign said all that? Or maybe it's the Bible that says that in 1 Hypocrites 24:7.

When I finally realized what was happening, I coaxed Lane out of the driveway and inside and became immobilized by fear. I am ashamed to say I stayed inside, not knowing what to do and left Brenner to fight this battle. I apologized to him later, but am writing this in part because I am trying to work out the crappy way I handled all of this.

The officer pulled up in front of our house and I worried for a moment that Brenner actually would be taken away in cuffs with "setting off bottle rockets with his kids on Memorial Day" on his rap sheet. I paced the floor and that's when I heard Rowen crying upstairs, screaming that his daddy was going to jail. I tried to comfort him and then went outside (finally) to talk to the officer, who obviously thought this was nuts and said that we were fine and to not worry about anything.

That's all good and fine, but it's hard not to worry when you have someone you thought was an ok person just 3-doors- down thinking it's ok to tear you apart on your front lawn with the world watching for no real (meaning based on truth) reason.

Just for the record, I am Christian and I love Jesus with everything I have in me. I am in no way perfect nor do I think I make all the right decisions or always do the right thing. Almost the opposite, in fact. That does not mean you can make assumptions about how I treat people based on my belief in God. Never once have I ever indicated that I was in any way 'homophobic' and am ticked off that this word was even used around us, especially based on a political sign in our yard of all things. I guess it was ok for him to line his lawn with Obama signs (literally, lined the lawn) but our right to free speech was squelched by the sign-stealing antics of a 40-something year old man who made some seriously faulty assumptions about us based on everything but us. It's funny because his partner and I have always conversed in the front yard and I never knew there was anything but good neighborly chats and smiles. My kids would pet his dogs and we would say hi and wave to each other on his daily walks. When some ill-hearted people spray painted their garage door with the word "Faggot," I wonder who it was in his driveway to comfort him and tell him how sad we were that that had happened? Oh, it was the only two people on the street with Romney signs in our yards. Me included.

Just for a moment, imagine the tables had been turned. Imagine we went down the street screaming at this guy and saying "F- you because we saw the sign in your yard!" And "F-your 'kind' and I'm glad there aren't many of you and we don't have to worry about you," etc. We would have been hauled to jail so fast and been plastered across the 11- o'clock news. But it's ok to do that to us.

So I ask, who was the butt of a hate 'crime' and who wasn't? Let me further add that I was a proud member of a graduating class of OSU, one of the most liberal and equality-based schools in the country, but I have to say I have never felt more unequal based on my Christian beliefs. Somewhere along the way, every other choice in America became ok other than God. I guess the Bible doesn't say it would be easy. Surely not for Christians just trying to live out their beliefs. Sure there are some that give us a bad name, but if we are all about equality and not judging, how about you look at my heart rather than being jaded by some guy who gave God a bad name when you were in middle school? That's all I ask.

I am not expecting the world to unite and hold hands based on all of this, but I am asking us to look at the irony of how politically correct it is to tout equality for everyone in the world but Christians. There's always someone who gives any grouping of people a bad name, but it's unfair to lump me in there unless you've seen me. I've seen it all my life as a Christian, as a wife, as a mother, and all my other labels and roles. I think we all have. So let's think about changing it. It starts with you and me.

The New Normal

The last month has been a whirlwind of crazy at our house. And when I say crazy, I mean it's been so up and down that the head-spinning girl from the Exorcist looked tame compared to me.

I will spare some detail, but let's just say that things got so bad that a psychiatric hospital was actually on the table for discussion. Not for me, surprisingly (although scoring a few fun pills wouldn't have been half bad), but for my 6-year-old autistic son.

Here's the long and short version: It. Was. Bad. Rowen had been getting progressively more angry and we were getting progressively more despondent. He had been doing well on the Adderall, or so we thought, until we realized it was actually the culprit for bringing out the worst in Rowen. At first we dubbed it the miracle pill, because he was in control of himself again. My head-spinning had subdued and we felt a little more in control of our lives. Little did we know, a crazed, cackling monster was readying to play hardball. And play hardball it did.

So we were advised to drop the Adderall, and two more medicines later (sigh) we are onto the next latest and greatest. I am gun shy to say it's any good, but so far so good. So good, in fact, I sat outside with Rowen yesterday and we just enjoyed being together. I almost didn't know how to handle some good old fashioned time with my boy without fighting, yelling, and discipline. It was so nice.

A good friend of ours at church who knows Rowen told me tonight that she knows what a sweet and loving boy Rowen is when he's there. I am so glad there are people that see it too when he is able to just be himself, because he really is all the good things she described. Rowen's just been given the daunting task of having to unravel a few layers before others can see it. It's not fair, really, but then who said life would be fair? Fair might not be the right word for us, but blessed sure is if all roads lead to here...

  
I also got to spend last night watching Lane in his first ever pee wee T-ball game. I loved sitting in the warm, summer-like breeze watching my 3-year-old excitedly round the bases with his daddy playing coach. I have to admit, I imagined that it felt like what most families feel when they watch their little leaguers. Relaxed. Normal. I know there is no real definition for normal (thank God for that), but it was nice to put a baseball hat on his head without a screaming tantrum erupting and a hat flying across the field. I also have to admit that it was nice to not have to coax him out on the field, but instead to see him run to it like they'd plastered popsicles all over home base. And finally, I fully admit it was nice to not have to field incredulous stares from onlookers while I stave off a belligerent 6-year-old.

I absolutely love that Rowen is Rowen. I spent the hour outside the baseball diamond watching Lane, but tending to my dirt loving, ADHD boy on the sidelines. I had to pull his wandering self out of the diamond a few times, but he soon found an equally ADHD boy to play with, and- with much mom interference- had a good time. I don't need for him to play baseball or any other sport for me to be proud of him. But admittedly it was kind of nice to see how the other half lives. If that sounds bad to anyone, so be it. It was still nice. Granted I missed half the game for having to tell Rowen to keep his hands to himself 50 times and to stop eating dirt, but I think it turned out quite nicely. Lane had a great time and we did too.