People are always telling me that I am something I am not.
"Two kids with autism! And a newborn! Oh, wow, you are so_____!" Go ahead, fill in the blank. Words like "strong", "brave", and "daring" tend to be popular among both those that know me and those that are meeting me. But none of those feel like good descriptions for what I am.
Scared. Tired. A complete and utter mess. Those feel like more accurate words.
Here's a little secret that I want to let you in on...I am not any stronger than you are. I don't subscribe to the belief that God gives special needs children to special parents that can handle it. My patience is not endless, I don't somehow need less sleep than other mortals, and there are many times during the day that I simply look around and have no idea what to do next.
I have pity parties. When I see my friends post pictures of play dates that their kids have I get jealous. I wish they would call me to take the kids to the park, but I know that would be a stressful adventure for all involved. Once I almost de-friended someone simply because she constantly posts all of the cute and funny things her daughter says and it was just too hard to read and compare her little girl to mine. I get petty. I cry. When all three kids are screaming and I realize that none of my children can really communicate with me, my heart breaks. Like I said...I'm not that strong.
Thankfully, some things make me stronger. A friend who opens her home to me while I'm having a breakdown, gives me coffee, and lends an understanding ear makes me strong enough to go back and face the rest of the day. A husband who holds me and tells me that I'm a good mom right after I've lost my temper makes me strong enough to not yell the next time someone hits, bites, pinches, or kicks me. And yes, locking myself in the bathroom with a piece of chocolate sometimes makes me strong enough to deal with a kid that is throwing a half hour tantrum over cookies.
But even those things aren't enough. My friends and husband can't shoulder all of my burdens, and I can't eat my feelings all of the time. While I don't believe God made my children autistic because I'm some sort of super-mom, I do believe that He loves them and He loves me. And that means that He makes me better than I am. He is strong. When I have no patience left to give, I can lean on the one who has grace in abundance. I've seen what I'm like when I forget to do that and it isn't pretty. Not for me and not for my family.
So now you know my secret. I'm completely inadequate for this job. I'm just not strong enough...but I guess I don't have to be.