Fully accept and love both A and B exactly as they are today. Believe that anything is possible in the future. Do whatever I can to help them reach their fullest potential, whatever that may be.
This, combined with my overall worldview of:
Fight injustice whereever it may be found. Work towards system change. Each of us can make a difference. Accept personal responsibility for making the world a better place.
has lead be to where I am today.
So why does it hit me like a ton of bricks when the special needs summer sleepaway camp coordinator calls me to say that she has reviewed my applications for the boys, and despite our initial phone conversation she now feels like my children need more support than their camp can offer right now. This is a FUCKING SPECIAL NEEDS summer camp. That's all they serve is kids with special needs. I'm not fighting to get my kids included in a typical summer camp. I'm aware that we couldn't handle that. But this is supposed to be for kids with special needs. WE ARE JUST TOOOO FUCKING SPECIAL.
What a hit. I'm still trying to recover from it.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Five years after my sons were diagnosed, I am still totally blown out of the water. I suspect I never really left the denial stage, haven't yet made it to the acceptance stage. At first I willfully opposed the entire concept of acceptance, as it felt too much like quitting. Rather than accept they had autism, I wanted to cure them of autism. And thus spent the first year full steam ahead, learning as much as I could about mercury, methylation, peptides, opioids, EFAs, ABA, apraxia, proprioception, due process, IDEA, FAPE, and the like. When we reached the magic milestone of 5 years of age, and it was clear that early intervention did not equate with "cure" in our case, I began groping again for a theory, a vision, that could pull me through. By the time the boys turned six, I had pretty much settled on: