"Go Easy On Me."

When I first heard the song, "Easy On Me" by Adele, I thought to myself, "it's a nice song, but it doesn't resonate with me." I couldn't relate and didn't feel emotional about it. And that's not common for me when it comes to music. Music usually affects me in some manner. I'll cry, laugh, sing along, dance even. Or I will absolutely not like it. I rarely have a non reaction. I heard the song a few times and even played it for a co-worker, reciting those same words, "this song doesn't resonate with me." And it didn't. Until, it did..... I think originally my mind, my heart and my delicate emotional state were in full blown self-protecting mode from the outpouring of emotions that would ensue when it finally did hit me. FUCK. I let my wall down or rather it came crashing down. So much about this song hit home for me, from different perspectives and from every angle. It became relentless. Which makes perfect sense. 

I had thought for so long about what I would write about next and while I often felt consumed by emotional experiences, I simply put off writing about any of it. I decided this morning to check in on this blog and typically when I log back in, I re-read my previous post. That didn't help with my current emotional outcry. I think I've been holding these tears hostage for quite some times as they flooded the surface and I continued reading through my watery blurred vision.

Life has been hard and even stings sometimes. Throw in a pandemic, familial health scares and the uncertainty of it all and I am doing everything I can to not drown in those very same tears. Having a pre-teen growing boy with autism and hormones to boot has proved to be beyond challenging. It's hard. For all of us. I used to think life would get easier as my son grew older and that couldn't be further from the truth. Feeling isolated, secluded and alone are just par for the course now. 

I now hang onto every. single. word. of this dang song as to how it absolutely relates to our world. Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up. I wave the white flag, but nobody sees it. Perhaps because it's simply not in my DNA to give up. Everyday, I will try. Even when it seems like the obstacles come at us on the daily, multiple times a day. I can find the light in the heart of the challenge and the soul of the struggle. Even on our worst days, I get there. Some days it takes longer than others, but when we get to the other side we are better for it. I wish I had all the answers. Sometimes it feels good to just write shit down. So, go easy...

Solidarity.

Autism and me have not always been friends. We for sure didn’t start out that way. Autism stormed it’s way into our lives and after years of having that internal battle, I knew I had to do everything I could to help my children, while at the same time not knowing what this meant for our family. To see it, to talk about, to say the words out loud, meant there was no going back. Even though I knew there wasn’t. It took me a long time to be ready for that. I often wonder what more I could have done, but that’s a never-ending windy road that never ends well, so I’m just going to steer clear of it. 

With autism comes countless waves of emotions, loneliness, solitude, happiness and sadness. Constantly worrying about what each new day would bring and how we, as a family, would overcome has been an obstacle that we constantly face. It doesn’t just go away when we have good days; in fact sometimes it makes me more aware of this great big world around us when we celebrate our beautiful, small, but oh so mighty milestones. 

In our family, autism means I may never know “why” my children make the choices they make. And this means I will forever have to accept those choices; for our family and in our home. Even if it means my son breaks 2 of my wine glasses “on accident” even though he “threw them” and all we can do is clean up the mess, talk to him and hope he learns that a choice like that is a dangerous one. This also means that when I hear quiet for too long it means he is most likely pouring out all of Eric’s mouthwash in the sink or my (non toxic, natural) cleaning solution. Why? Good question. And one that I don’t have the answer to… yet. I am hopeful, of course. This also means that with successes comes new challenges; challenges that I barely learn how to navigate, but try my damnedest to. I cry, I learn. We cry, we learn. And on and on and on.... 

My son, my beautiful boy, my shining spectrum spitfire, will be turning 10 in 10 days and I have come to the conclusion that autism and I are, in fact, friends. Because with every challenge that has come our way we have grown as a family and I have learned so much about what is important in life. The mistakes he makes are his to learn from and it’s my job to help guide him to do just that. It’s also my job to not put him in a position where he will be set up to “fail”. It’s crucial that I know all about the environment and what our surroundings will be like before making any decisions. And the toughest lessons are ours to learn from each other. We will go on adventures and we will live our lives; we just do it cautiously, even though we have been known to throw caution to the wind! Living this life of ours means we love, we respect and most importantly it means that we acknowledge that shit happens. And when it does, we talk about it, hopefully learn from it and move on. And cross our fingers it doesn't happen again. ;) And if it does, we rinse and repeat... 

This is what I need those in our life to understand the most. Autism comes first. We weigh any potential pros and cons and we make a decision. And if we're having a rough day, if autism has given me a run for my money, a simple "I am sorry you're having a rough day" will do. Maybe even a hug. I don't expect you to know what that means in our house. I know it means something different for everybody. I write this in solidarity with you all. ✊🏼💙💗 

To the woman at Trader Joe's who bought me flowers....

THANK YOU.  I will never forget what you did for me that day.

You see... this happened to me about a year or so ago, on a day where my son was having a particularly tough time. Which means I was having a particularly tough time. Here's the thing... I don't typically go grocery shopping with all 3 kids alone, or, for the most part my husband does all the grocery shopping and I get to avoid it entirely. But on this day way back when, I took on the challenge and forged ahead to Trader Joe's with the idea of getting in and out real quick! I know, I know... A contradiction in terms... I should have known better.

That day I had a specific, budgeted list and prior to that trip I was able to buy only what we needed and not indulge the "usuals" my son was used to without it being a trigger. Some days we could and some days we could not. Until this particular day. This is partially what autism looks like in our house; all of a sudden something that never bothered him before, becomes a trigger. Keeping up is difficult, to say the least. 

I managed to work my way through the narrow aisles and thought everything was going well, when my son got very upset when he realized I was not making the "usual" purchases. I was not prepared for this to be a trigger. I was taken by surprise and all I wanted to do was leave. Unfortunately the items we already had in our cart were important and needed to ward off future triggers. I made the decision to check out and leave with what we had. I found the shortest line and tried my best to calm my crying, screaming child, all while ensuring sure my other two children were close by and not being bumped into by passerbyers (is that a word?) and their carts.

After what felt like an eternity we were ready to leave. I bagged my own groceries and paid the nice cashier and we began to make our way out. As we made our way to the double doors to freedom, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to a bright ray of sunshine. A woman was standing beside me, with a smile and a nod. You know the kind; the kind that says I see you. She handed me a beautiful bouquet of flowers and told me I was "doing a good job". And then, as if she could feel that I was about to to lose it, she hugged me. I had no choice but to release the tears I had been holding in and cried on this kind stranger's shoulder. I managed to mutter the words THANK YOU as she gently patted my back and we all walked out the door. It has stuck with me ever since and I often think about the profound impact she had on me that day. 

There is a reason I chose to share this beautiful story with you today. We needed groceries and even though my husband offered to go after work, I decided to take care of it and had no choice but to bring my kiddos. I felt like it would be ok. Maybe there's something in the air, but things just did not go our way. It happens. Such is life, right? The difference is that today, while feeling frustrated and sad, and like I was failing at this parenting stuff, I remembered how I felt in the moment when a generous stranger offered me the most beautiful gift of acceptance and kindness. And just like that I no longer felt like I was alone. Because the truth is, I am not alone. And while I am very lucky to have people in my life who remind me daily that I am not alone, it's always nice to have memories of that time when someone went out of their way to comfort a struggling stranger.

I am sharing all of this with you because I want you to know that the little things matter. A smile. A nod. A kind gesture. And while I consider this gesture to be no less than grand, it is important for you to know that ALL of it matters. If you ever find yourself in a situation where someone is struggling and you are questioning whether or not to extend warmth, I say please just go for it. You will never be forgotten. YOU matter. And YOU are doing a good job.

The Fight. And how it changed me.

I am pretty sure I was born with an affliction toward fighting.  For good.  For a cause.  For something. For someone. For anything, really.  There has always been a spark within, that when ignited would light up the room.  I was never afraid of a fight and I rarely backed down from one.  When I was young, fighting never amounted to anything.  I was heading down a path of self destruction without any real methodology behind it.  And as I grew, so did that spark.

Then... I became a mother.  Someone I wanted to be since as far back as I can remember.  

My name is Anita and I am an Autism Parent.  

Being a special needs mama has rocked my world.  I am still a fighter and still never back down, however, this time there are actual stakes involved.  The highest of the high.  

From day one I was a changed person.  Of course.  Being a mama changes us as we transform into this person who all of a sudden just knows how to keep a tiny little human alive. Our instincts become our guide and we feed, love, comfort, soothe, hug, kiss, clean, guide, nourish, watch, as our little beings grow and become the magical people they were meant to be.  And for my family that looked different than how I imagined it would.  We had those conversations with Doctors and neurologists and eye dr.'s and without any real answers had to live in this world where my kids were "different" and not "acting like their peers".

Learning about Autism and other special needs was not even on my radar when I had kids.  I wasn't planning on joining a fight against unconstitutional laws that would try to force me to further inject my children with the very same toxins that triggered their neurological disorder in the 1st place.  I didn't plan on igniting that spark to speak up and be vocal on behalf of my rights and the rights of my children.  I did not plan on becoming the advocate I am today.  

Most of the time I am content to just stay home and avoid people and situations entirely, but standing in the back and watching the world go by doesn't effect change.  So I stand up.  And we step out. And I seek answers.  Sure, I'm tired; Exhausted even.  But that doesn't matter.  What matters is that I continue to fight for what they need... occupational therapy, speech therapy, sensory integration therapy, IEP's, researching, educating.  Just as autism is a spectrum of disorders, so is the way in which we approach it.  If you are not sure what this means, please ask me.  If you are curious about what our world is like, simply ask.  My spectrum spitfires are unlike any other.  And when you find yourself making assumptions or thinking you know what it's like, please remember one of my favorite quotes, "If you've met ONE person with autism, you've met ONE person with autism." ~Stephen Shore  

My children have their own unique way in which they view the world and it's my job to teach the world about them, not the other way around.  This life of ours isn't always pretty.  We cry.  We break. We recover.  I may be a wolf at heart, but "I'm only human on the inside".  And I now know that the fight I was born with was really the spark I needed to light the way for my children. Unconditionally.

Change

Have you ever said to yourself, "... and if I could, I wouldn't change a thing"?  Have you ever truly thought about what it means when you say it?  I mean, I get it.  You are happy and content in life and grateful for all the good.  I completely understand that.  I agree.  I have 3 beautiful children and I am so grateful for their health and happiness.  I too have said those very words out loud... "if I could, I wouldn't change a thing".  Until, during one of our challenging moments, I had to take a step back to try to calm myself and I found that those words attempted to so simply sail across my mouth, except this time I was so consumed by frustration and sadness that I just couldn't finish the sentence.  I couldn't.  And it was that very moment I screamed, to myself, I WOULD CHANGE A THING!  Oh gosh.  Is that horrible?  I gotta tell you...  It was a difficult moment.  Hard.  A moment in my life where all those one liners and cliches I so frequently spewed to myself to help me through the tough times kind of just went out the window.  Along with my self proclaimed sanity. And I am pretty sure I cried.

Hello.  My name is Anita Kornick. And I would change a thing.  There. I said it.  I uttered those words that we aren't supposed to?  I don't know.  I have never really been good at what we're "supposed to do".  Why should this be any different?  What would I change you ask?  Let's do this-

My children have and continue to teach me lessons in life that are unchangeable.  My outlook on life is nothing like it was before.  I would like to say I was always an empathetic person, however, having children on the spectrum has opened my eyes to whole new levels.  My level of empathy, along with my level of understanding, has definitely heightened.  I am thankful for the love within my "Village" and I am so extremely grateful for the people in our lives who love my kids.  So what would I change, you wonder?  Well... let me tell you.  It's pretty easy, actually.

Anabelle and Lennon struggle with things in life that often times come so easily to others.  Whether it's social struggles or struggles to communicate, it's an ongoing, daily struggle that I wish, with every ounce of my being, I could CHANGE.  I would instantly take away Lennon's struggle to process emotions. Anabelle's struggle to be heard and to be perceived as the free-spirited, wonder she is.  I would immediately change it so everyone in her life would know that beautiful heart of hers and truly see what a beautiful soul she is.  Lennon's struggle to transition or to change his routine because it's so scary to him.  Lennon's struggle to be understood and for others to see what a beautiful boy he is. Anabelle's struggle to want to please others while constantly seeking approval from others.  Is there a way to do away with those struggles all while STILL having all of those amazing and much needed life lessons?  I am afraid not.  And therein lies the problem.  I can't have it all.  But man, what I wouldn't give to change every struggle my children have to endure, just to co-exist in this crazy and sometimes fucked up world.  Even if that meant I absorb it all.  Give it to me.

This doesn't mean I don't want my children to have to struggle in life so that they can learn from it and grow from it.  Believe me, I want that.  I want my children to be themselves and feel comfortable with making their own choices and I very much understand that a large part of that is having to let them make mistakes and to learn from those mistakes. I get it.  They need to learn how to handle and get through tough times to get to the good so that one day they can be productive adults in our society. I am ALL for that.  But does that mean there has to be extra going against them?  Can't I just make it a little easier for them?  I know, I know. The answer is no.  But I sure as hell won't ever give up on trying.  So there.

I am sure a lot of you are probably shaking your heads at me with the very same thought that you would never change a thing in your life and I must be crazy.  I hear you.  I will say this - I would NOT change a single thing about the lessons in life I have learned from my amazingly bright and beautiful children and I believe whole heartedly that I would not be the person I am today if it weren't for my spectrum spitfires and my baby cub.  They have taught me to lighten up.  They have taught me the very core of acceptance and they have taught me that life is, in the very least, like a roller coaster that I sometimes want to slow down, but rarely ever want to get off.  A break would be nice ;)

If there was a way to to keep all of these important life lessons and to still come to such a deep understanding of what it truly means to be a beautiful and unique individual that my heart is so full of love it feels like it might explode WITHOUT having to watch my children struggle on a daily basis, then I would absolutely find a way to make that happen.  I would move mountains to make it work.  I would, in fact, change it in a heartbeat.  Because...  my babies.  

Keepin' It Real

For those who know me, know I like to keep things real.  I'm an honest person and relentless by nature.  A Wolf At Heart.  Fiercely loyal, guarded and always fighting for those I love and what I believe in.  This heart of mine has taken me on quite the roller coaster ride of emotions this summer and while I often try to let my head do the steering, sometimes my emotions get the best of me.  And since my heart is where my children live it's no wonder this course often leads me toward the path of uncertainty.  There are few things worse than not knowing what will be.  And when you have children who are on the spectrum then the unknown can be even more daunting.  I do this to myself every summer.  And then school starts and I breathe and realize everything is going to be ok.  The need for routine lives in us all and without the daily structure that getting up and going to school provided we kind of all went a little bit crazy.  We are three days away from Anabelle and Lennon going back to school, (Tiger already started) and WE ALL CAN'T WAIT.

The good news is with Tiger going back to school already we've all had to take him and get out of the house.  Which meant we were able to finish up last minute school shopping for Anabelle and Lennon and I gave in and got Lennon his end of the summer, back to school haircut.  He looks so damn cute.

So, how did our summer go?  It went...  well.   The kids getting older meant I felt mentally ready tackle commitments that I would have steered clear of in the past.  Anabelle expressed interest in "swimming in races" so we enrolled her in swim classes to learn her strokes.  And Tiger and Lennon sat with me as we all watched her learn.  It also encouraged Tiger to try to swim without his floaties and within a week he was doing it!  Jumping in and swimming completely on his own.  Big kid, that cub of mine.  Anabelle completed 3 weeks of swim lessons and I have now enrolled her in a local swim club to continue learning strokes and lane swimming.  Still feeling a little bit reluctant because of the fact that her lessons will be 2 days/week, after school and I will have the boys with me, but nowhere near as hesitant as I would have been last summer.  Baby steps.  Always moving forward.

Anabelle is almost as tall as me.  She is still such a little spirit. Free in nature, loving and very much a spitfire.  She has mastered her negotiation skills this summer and she has become quite the little problem solver.  Her memory has improved and we've spent a lot of this summer talking about trips we've taken or stuff she remembers as a baby.  It's so fascinating to hear her say things like "do you remember when I rode my tricycle for Monarch and won a medal"?  Um... Yes I do!  She is such a little independent sweet soul and her sometimes tough exterior is no match for her kind and gentle heart.  It's hard not to expect too much from her.  She is so smart and so capable.  What I see when I look at her...  oh man.  I cry.  She will build bridges one day.

Lennon has grown leaps and bounds.  And as much as he continues to challenge me on a daily basis I have been able to step outside of myself enough to recognize how far he has come.  I know he tries to push my buttons and rather than using his words he will cry or scream at me and I have to let him know that, that's just not gonna fly.  I know what he's capable of and I am sure he is capable of way more than I even give him credit for.  He is so fricken smart.  He loves to sing and he loves to read. We've read a slew of books this summer and more often than not I will catch him sitting on his bed with a book in hand, just reading to himself.  Our screen time has decreased and I started playing music every morning. This beautiful boy of mine will sit on the couch and dance and sing and listen and act as if his entire body is feeling the music.  I could sit and watch him all day...  Imagining and wondering what is going through his mind.  Does he feel the music?  He must.  When I sit with him and we listen together my heart feels it and I tear up and cry. Totally and awesomely by coincidence RIGHT NOW the song that is playing is, "The Energy Never Dies".  It really doesn't.

Tiger has impressed me so much this summer.  He hears and sees everything and is always wanting to learn.  Every time I sat down to do a homeschool lesson with Anabelle and Lennon he was right there with us, asking for his work also.  He would wake up and ask for circle time where we would sing songs and read together.  And at dinner time he would ask us all to sit together to "talk about our days".  He was so excited to go back to school to be in the "big kid" classroom and when we all went to his Meet the Teacher night he wanted me to leave him there.  He loves his siblings and has a very special bond with his "sissy".  I wish he and Lennon would play together more, but I understand that Lennon is not quite there yet.  My heart does break a little when I hear Anabelle and Tiger having a blast in their make believe world without him.  Will he join them one day?  I can see you shaking your head, yes.  I agree.  :)  He loves to play and will often sit down next to them to watch.  He is always watching.

Ok, so here we are!  THREE DAYS from school starting and routines and structure and yes, more crazy.  Even though there were many a rough patches this summer I am finding myself in a different head and heart space than last year.  Ready to take on the school year and ready to be even more involved.  Ready to take on commitments and to encourage my children to do the same.  *Remind me of this later when I'm stressing out about said commitments*  ;)

Happy end of summer days to you!  And to us!  Three more days!

Voice Over Matter

My children have a voice.  And their voices vary.  At any given time I can get a happy, sad, angry, loud, quiet, compassionate, kind or  assertive voice from them.  And the thing I need to consistently remind myself is that regardless of what tone is carrying their ever so important voice it is my job to hear them.  And to continue to teach them that their voice matters.

Having 3 children with 3 very different ways of communication has led me to hastily impose expectations when I see an advancement in any one of them. Anabelle is 8 years old and up until recently I admit I used her developmental progress as a measure of where I expected Lennon to be by now.  That expectation has only led me to feel like a failure in his development.  And that gets us nowhere.  Lennon's journey through life is his own and how dare I measure his abilities or development against anyone else.  I will remind myself to stop it.  Over and over.  

And then Tiger came along and completely rocked my world.  At the age of 2 he spoke more to me than his older siblings combined and of course that led me to expect WAY more from him.  So I remind myself that it isn't fair to expect so much from him simply because he is developing at a pace that he's "supposed" to be.  My brain hurts.

I realize that Anabelle, Lennon and Tiger are on different paths in life and while I want so badly to set their paths for them, it simply is not up to me.  I will take cues from them and help to guide them along the way.  I will remind myself, and others, that they are little human beings and their world is still so new.  And I will watch them to see what moves them and encourage them to take part in that aspect of life.  Learning these things is so tough.  Some of the hardest lessons ever.  Children can teach you a lot, if you just listen.  And while I find myself constantly asking them to listen to me, I don't think I listen to them enough.  I may be their mother, but we are all on the same team.  Team KornicKrew.  Foreva.

I need to cut my kids some slack.  And myself, I suppose.  

That is all.