Giving Grace

When Matt and I decided to start this blog we were excited. We discussed all the things we could write about in our journey with autism. Our plan was to write something and put it out at least once a week.

But then COVID happened. While we were home with our two boys 24/7 (with a front row seat to everything you would think we would have a lot to write about), we instead found ourselves barely holding our heads above water. We were both navigating working from home, distance learning for Hudson, juggling four teletherapy sessions a week and a crazy toddler. Not to mention the fear of a global pandemic. By the end of the day we found ourselves exhausted and uninspired to write much of anything.

Honestly, I still feel uninspired, as well as overwhelmed and stressed. Although things are starting to open in our area it seems as if the rest of the country is imploding. There is still so much unknown; will we go back to school in the fall? Will we continue distance learning? Will life ever feel normal again? Will we ever get a break?

We are fortunate and I know that. We have it so good in comparison to many, but it doesn’t mean that our “new way of life” hasn't taken a toll on me. I feel as my parenting skills have become way below subpar. I find myself getting frustrated easily and my boys are getting way more screen time than ever before. I have been with them everyday since March with very little breaks and, while I am grateful for this time together, it’s also difficult for any type of “self-care” (what’s that?), much less even a conversation with my husband that isn’t interrupted by screaming children. Mix all this in with the current stresses of the world, oh and buying/selling our home, and I’m stretched about as far as I can go.

The other day I felt as if I had reached my breaking point. While playing with the boys outside, I was turned towards our youngest, Finnley, who was giving me a hard time. I turned back around and Hudson had taken off. I found him in the backyard, but I lost it on him and it was not pretty. I sat in the swing and sobbed as my boys quietly played in the dirt. Hudson came up to me, wiped away my tears, and whispered “I love you.” It took me by surprise and I started to cry even harder. He was so sweet, and quick to forgive me after I had just screamed at him. Not only that but it’s quite uncommon for autistic individuals to be so empathetic, and here he was comforting me when he could tell I really needed it.

Anytime I mention to my friends or husband how overwhelmed I feel they all tell me the same thing; I need to give myself some grace. We’re in unprecedented times and many people are feeling this way. After blowing up at Hudson the other day I realized I need to give my boys grace, too; especially Hudson (Finnley adores every second of being home). I think Hudson is struggling more with quarantine and all these new rules just as much as I am, but it’s much harder for him to communicate that. Before all this he saw friends regularly and we were able to jump in the car and go to his favorite places whenever we felt like it. Now we’re still pretty much home bound and everyday feels the same. And getting him to wear a mask? Yikes!

Hudson certainly has been showing behavior that reflects these feelings, but it has not been easy deciphering them. When quarantine began, he started to have sleep issues. He’s been having nightmares and feels the need to come into our bed, sometimes 2-3 times a night. He acts like a dinosaur most of the day, even trying to eat like one. It can be frustrating and annoying. Hudson is mean to his brother a lot, too. His listening skills are almost nonexistent. At first we weren’t sure if it was his age, or him being on the spectrum but now I really feel as if it’s a product of “our new normal” and being cooped up (maybe a mix of everything?). I can see how it’s affecting me, so why wouldn’t it affect him, too? I know I need to give him grace, just like I need to do for myself.

I am starting to make a conscious effort to help my boys through this as much as I can. I can’t promise everyday will be great because that’s just not real life, but I don’t want this to impact them negatively for the rest of their life, either. Maybe with a little grace, we’ll all get through this together.