Meditation For An Autism Mom

This is not my fault.

I am doing the best I can, which means acknowledging that it will never feel like enough. I am only human.

I am gaining patience, resilience, wisdom and strength. I don't see it; I don't necessarily feel it; but it's true. It just has to be true.

My home is a disaster - whether due to my Tasmanian devil child, diminishing time and money, or pure, unprecedented exhaustion (or a combination thereof). I must learn to care less.

I have lost sight of my identity, my friends, my professional drive, and my peace because I am laser-focused on my child's well-being and future readiness. Still, I can take baby steps for my own sanity. For example, today, maybe I'll shower.

I find myself saying and doing things I never imagined due to my child's absurd, unpredictable behavior, interests and needs. I want to cry on many occasions; but it always feels better to laugh.

I am overwhelmed by the seemingly infinite cures, therapies, medications, treatments and diets that I am told will help my child. Some will help; others won't. We'll unapologetically do what works best for us, when it works for us - holistically, logistically and practically.

Each year, I will continue to search for the perfect school scenario for my child; nothing will ever fit quite right. I will take it day by day, year by year.

I am my child's best advocate. I will trust my instincts. I will consult with professionals, doctors, teachers and psychologists; but mostly I have to learn to trust myself.

I will feel judged. Sometimes, I really am being judged, so I should grow a thicker skin. More important, however, I am judging myself, and I need to learn to be kinder to myself.

Managing Your Child's Medications: A Lay-Parent's Guide

We're on drugs. Yep, you name it (duh, legally prescribed drugs), we've probably tried it. I can't say I'm as drug-savvy as Nancy Botwin, and we certainly don't grow or sell them, but we do manage them. Doses, prescriptions, times, counter-effects, interactions, half-lives - it's a lot to take in when you're just trying to keep a kid from scratching your eyes out.

This post is NOT about the pros and cons of medicating children. It's a highly personal, emotional issue for many of us, and I don't wish to debate that here. Obviously, medications are not always the answer. Medications alone rarely are the answer. And unfortunately identifying the RIGHT medications and dosages often can feel like chasing a carrot: just when you think you've nailed it -bam! - the kid has a growth spurt; or completely new symptoms; or they stop making THAT pill in THAT dose; or something else.

Nonetheless, I chose to add medications to our treatment plans, and any reservations I had quickly dissipated after witnessing undeniable, SIGNIFICANT results.

Of course, that doesn't mean I love doling out psychotropic medications any more than I like my kid's melatonin habit. However, I defer to the age-old wisdom: if your child needs a wheelchair, you provide the wheelchair. Yes, you also offer therapy, rehab, counseling, sporn flushing, and so on, but you must provide the wheelchair.

Anyhoo, I've become somewhat of a preachy busybody on this topic because I screw up a lot, and it makes me feel much better to pretend I've learned something from it. So, as much as I support the use of  psychiatric medications when needed, I am militant about the following pointers. If you have others, please share them below, because I'm pretty sure we will continue to be a poster household for Big Pharma for many years to come.