Gentle with myself.

I'm not a floortime mom. I'm not a crusader who has pursued every biomedical intervention for my son. I'm not an ABA mom who has implemented a fifty-hour-a-week program and brought my son forward by leaps and bounds. I'm not even an uber-organized mom who has visual schedules in every corner of the house, all the toys labeled with Boardmaker icons, and a structured schedule for my son.

I'm not any of those moms. For many years, I've thought I should be a mom like that - like any of those, someone who goes to extraordinary means for her children. Many who look at me from outside would say I am: that I've moved to a place where Jake gets great schooling, that I have advocated strongly for him, that I have researched alternative treatments for cystic fibrosis and autism and applied what made sense to me. And yet, when I compare myself to these imaginary mothers in my head, or various virtual (and virtuous) mothers in the blogosphere, I come up woefully short.

So I'm trying something new. I'm not comparing. I'm embracing all of who I am, and I'm somewhat of a lazy mother. When I read in the La Leche League book that "benign neglect" was a healthy strategy for childrearing, I embraced it wholeheartedly. (My heart did a little joyous leap! Not paying attention to my children 24/7 is a good thing! Woo-hoo!) Jake wants to roam naked outside on warm sunny days and pick twigs off little trees and bushes on our 25 au naturale acres? Fine with me. Come in for a bath and dinner and let me smear a little sunscreen on you if you're burning. Is it stimmy behavior? Should I stop it? Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows for sure?

I go to therapy weekly now, where I grapple with the questions: Is that really true? How can I absolutely know that it's true? Whenever I'm faced with a belief that is causing my angst and suffering in my life, I ask myself those questions. Is that really true? How can I absolutely know that it's true? Most of the time? With just a little bit of introspection, I can find ways that it isn't true.

I should be more involved in actively parenting my children. Is that really true? How can I absolutely know that it's true? If I were a better mother, Jake would be less autistic. Is that really true? How can I absolutely know that it's true? If I had pursued biomedical interventions earlier, more aggressively, he'd be less autistic. Is that really true? How can I absolutely know that it's true? And how about this one: Jake would have a better life if his autism symptoms were improved or more mild. Is that really true? How can I absolutely know that it's true?


There is more to the type of therapy I'm doing than just questioning beliefs, and if you want to read about it you can go to the webpage of the woman whose idea it was to ask these questions in this way. But often, those first two questions are enough for me to let a belief loose, to pry it free of my mind a little bit, and give it the opportunity to float away. Sometimes the belief sticks again, and other times it dissolves into the ether.

I'm almost there, when it comes to the type of mother I think I "should" be. Today's a good day, when I can say, "That's bullshit. Why do I hold myself up to others and compare at all? What's productive about that?" Today I'm seeing clearly how much I punish myself for imagined transgressions, how self-flagellation has become something I see as virtuous, something I deserve. I'm loosing these ideas from their moorings and letting them float, today.