-5
Sick to the living death of my husband and mother-in-law and watching every moment to make sure I act the way I need to to keep them off my back.
Sick of listening to "Aspie" and "depression" being used to dismiss everything I say that they don't want to hear.
Sick of watching her heap "You are JUST SO CUTE!" on the girls, while snapping at the boy. Sick of listening to him yell. Other than the oldest and the baby, all he says to those kids (especially the boy) is YELL.
SICK OF IT.
Sometime next week, we'll have a diagnosis on DS6. At which point, he will cease a little bit more to be our child. We will have to give up days to school, late afternoons/evenings to therapies and transit (there won't even be time for supper-- just homework, get in the car, go to therapy, get drive thru, eat in the car, get home, have a bath, go to bed-- and no more extracurricular activities for anyone unless I can arrange rides for them either), and what autonomy we have to raising him in the way that the therapist deems best. Why?? Because I am "just a mom," and will be told again to "have a seat in the waiting room and let the professionals handle it."
I did not have this child to be no more than a cook, laundress, and chauffeur. I guess that's a parent's role nowadays, though.
I wish I had known that. I would not have had children.
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"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"