Scratches.

My back  has been hurting so much.  I have never had back pains and these past few months I have been getting worse.  I think it is because I work on my laptop and don’t have an actual desk.  I follow the monkey around and sit wherever there is space.  My daughter does the same as she takes her classes.  If that is sitting outside while the monkey is on his swing, or on the floor while the monkey lays down and watches cartoons, wherever he goes, my husband, my daughter, and myself, we all take turns, and we all follow. 

I finally gave in and booked an appoinment with the chiropractor for this past Monday.  I wasn’t able to bend down to put shoes on so I realized enough is enough.  Even with this pandemic going on, I realized that I needed to go get checked.

While the lady was hooking me up to the machine, she asked me about the scratches on my back.  I froze.  I hate having to tell strangers that my son hurts us.  I don’t want them to think he is a bad kid.  So I lied.  I told her that we went up to the woods and the trees scratched me.  Don’t know if she belived me.  She said they looked pretty deep, and they looked like they really hurt.

That evening I was telling my husband about the conversation and he said that he tells everyone.  He said he’s not ashamed.  But that’s the thing.  I am not asahmed either.  I am worried of how they will perceive my son.  I don’t want them to fear him, to fear autism.

I had to go back to the chiropractor today.  And when the doctor saw me, he  asked me about the scracthes.  “What happened there?”  He knows about my son and his special needs.  I had talked to him about my monkey earlier.  But this time I didn’t lie.  I told him, “It was my son.  He  was very anxious and wasn’t able to supress his emotions.”  And the room went quiet.

Then I told him, “But he’s a very sweet boy.  He just struggles a lot.  And once he is able to get his compusure, he apolgoizes.  He doesn’t speak, but he apolgoizes, in his way.  He is sorry.”

And the doctor said, “I know he is sorry he hurt you.”

And this is autism.  This is our lives.  It is rough and hard and painful but it is also beautiful and kind and gentle.  My son has literally showed me how to stop and appreciate the flowers.  He sees things in such a different perspective that I am awed at the beauty of his world.  And throughout this journey, I have learned how beautiful his view is.

I am honored to be your mama my monkey.  I hope I make you proud. ❤️

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Thank you so much for sharing, I understand first hand how vulnerable it feels. My son is also on the spectrum (I sometimes blog about him as well) and it happens… we take the kicks, bites, scratches and more from our kids so that they don’t inflict it on themselves or others. It’s what mamas do… ❤️ we know they don’t intentionally hurt us.

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    1. It’s what Mama’s do. Beautifully said. ♥️ Sending you hugs fellow autism mom! 💙🙏

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