That's me, in 2005, driving topless (convertible top down) and taking The Mothers From Hell on a photo-op ride through the parking lot of our fave Mexican restaurant. Note the queenly waves, and Dara, middle back, who showed up in her wedding dress from 20 years past.
Except for a sprinkling of stolen lunch hours here and there, seems too long since I'd communed with any of my tribes. A long school year. Scheduling conflicts. Childcare issues. Alas, one of the gifts of the more relaxed Season of Summer. Time to meet and catch up with friends.
This week I've gathered with two groups. One, a group of "typically developing moms." That's code in disAbility language for mothers of children who are "typically developing." I had no idea when I replied to a newspaper ad to become a blogger for a new mom's website by our main daily newspaper that I'd end up making friends. Social media was new to me -- and this was before Obama became a household word -- in part by capitalizing on The New Wave. (I didn't get the blog post and the bloggers have been let go -- no commentary on their writing or work -- but I became first a Special Needs Forum moderator and now after a staff reduction, one of only four remaining moderators for the site.)
In some ways my life today with a special needs teen doesn't have much in common with most of the women I've met through this site, which is predominantly mothers of typically developing kids. But, as I tell parents gathered at the Autism Society of Middle Tennessee's bi-monthly Autism Orientations I co-lead, it's important to make friends outside of one's Special Needs Tribe. I've found that friends like those I've made through MomsLikeMe.com help balance my life and lend it a pinch of levity. I Choose a Life that's not all about disAbility! My relationship with these mostly young mothers of young children has also served as a fabulous awareness tool for disAbility. A bridge for understanding that I am confident, that in many cases, will transfer into teaching their offspring compassion for the differently abled.
The "typical" moms and I sat outside on a warm Tuesday night in early June and licked mile-high ice cream cones and slurped thick milkshakes. But the raucous party was the next night in a Turkish restaurant in a nearby part of town. The women there bore tiara's, swilled alcohol-laced concoctions and laughed wildly. This tribe was/is "The Mothers From Hell." So named by it's creative northwestern U.S. founder, writer Elizabeth Gerlach* because it's said that when we approach the IEP (Individual Education Planning) table, the educators there are whispering: "There comes that 'Mother from Hell.'"
I was christened into this mothering tribe very early into my disAbility pilgrimage. Our local chapter's by invitation only. Someone knew I would not blush at the profanity nor was I truly a banshee advocate for my child. Like my peers, I am an advocate who knows that more flies are caught with honey than vinegar. But, when we get together, don those tiaras, all hell breaks loose cause then it's just us mothers...from Hell. Moms that know the catharsis of rounding up one's tribe and lettin' 'er rip.
*6.6.09 Update: Elizabeth has since informed me that she was one of the original MFH's, not the founder.
I just want to say, I absolutely LOVE rndaieg all of your entries.This is my answer:Autism, to me, is a part of who my child is… for better or worse, beautiful or ugly. Yes it causes extreme temper tantrums, misunderstandings, dietary issues and more… but it also shows me a side of life that I would have never seen before otherwise. A whole new profound way of looking at the world.Autism makes it very hard for my child to know what other people may be thinking… a look on their face and body language aren’t enough. Autism also makes it very hard for my child to understand the concept of time. To tell me about a year ago, he refers to it as “a lot yesterday”.It’s because of Autism that my son will kick and throw things as he enters a rage filled meltdown that is completely beyond his control.Probably what hurts most, however, is the looks and comments and judgments that others make while we’re in public. Whether it be a meltdown at a grocery store or even a physical activity where my son clearly isn’t as “in control” as the other children. Being different, to most people, is a negative thing.It’s for this reason, that Autism to me, has become my purpose. Actually, my son (both of my boys to be honest) are more important than Autism itself, but they’ve given me my purpose in life… to not just raise awareness of Autism but to try to help others to understand it better and to accept those that have it.Perhaps if I can reach enough people, those looks and comments and judgments will begin to go away. If I can reach people in my own community, I can help people accept my child.. if I can reach people around the world.. I can help many children.And not just children… but teenagers in high school that are being bullied or even beaten… and adults too that may still be living with their parents or at the very least, struggling at keeping jobs and a social life.Since my son has been born, and more so, since we’ve received his diagnosis, I’ve learned so very much about Autism and yet I still have far far more to learn.And this is my meaning in life… this is my purpose.Not to change my child because my child is wonderful, amazing and every bit as deserving of a everything that you and I have as we are.My purpose is to change the world around him… by talking to anyone that will listen. By giving them just a little bit more understanding… and hopefully, helping them to accept my son and everyone else with Autism.That’s what Autism is to me.
Posted by: Vilas | July 04, 2012 at 07:42 AM