Stay at Home Mom... By Choice?

Four years ago, because of the hard work done by my awesome husband, I was able to unlock "stay at home mom" status. When I married a youth pastor almost ten years ago, staying at home with my future kiddos was more than a little out of reach. Even as we started to take in foster children, it was still..... a dream. Years of countless hours away from home working hard for us, Jason was able to work his way to a position that was more financially stable. Skipping over the fact that being a stay at home mom to an infant is NO JOKE and NOT a vacation from a career (that's a completely different blog,) I wanted to dwell on a different side of stay at home "mom-dom" that I didn't see coming.

Autism is hard. Autism is a full time job. I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around how hard it is for those mommas who have to split their time between work and autism.

Autism and a career are not......simpatico. Which is not the end of the world to me, who has wanted to do nothing but care for my kiddos at home for as long as I can remember. But there are times where I genuinely worry for those faceless parents out there who have no other choice than to go to work with colleagues, and then go home and work with autism.

Just the other day I was walking into Avery's school, which is a FORTRESS by the way, so i'm forced to be "beeped" in by the front office lady- EVERY. TIME. By default, this makes me and said office lady BFFs. Honestly I couldn't even tell you her name, but the last time she saw me, she mentioned something about me needing to just be employed by the school with the amount of time I spend there.

Id love to take this as a compliment on my hard work and dedication... but I don't think she meant it that way.

Here's the difference between having a job at the school, and having an Avery at the school; preference. Would I prefer to be there making money? Or would I prefer to be there peeling Avery off of the gym floor for the twelfth time this month? I'll let you figure that one out.

Eeeeeevery once in a while there will be three days or so of smooth everything. I got that fool on the bus (whether she liked it or not,) I received not ONE call from a staff member of her school, and she got on the bus to return home. WHAT WHAT?! Can you even believe it?

It's about then that I almost feel silly for having "stay at home status" for much longer. Both of my kiddos are in school full time these days after all. But then, almost like clockwork, something happens. And I realize that "something" is a broad term and really means nothing to you, I suppose I should really use the word "anything."

For example, wanna know what set Avery off a few days ago? So much so that I'm still dealing with the fallout?

A circus cookie.

Specifically a pink frosted one.

I couldn't tell you why, or even which animal it was that sent her into a spiral.

It just did.

This meltdown warranted a call home, a note in the "notebook of doom," an email, and special recognition in her IEP meeting. I know, WOOF.

Another example? This is a fun game-

The lace of one her shoes was tighter than the other.... here's where it gets interesting. There is a massive difference between autism in the home and autism at school. And the scary thing?

Avery knows it.

Autism in the home means she can starfish in the middle of the floor, or bang on the walls, or occupy the bathroom in anger for as long as she wants. I am the "wait it out" game MASTER. Bring it on.

HOWEVER.

Autism at school means all of that can still happen... but no one can touch her with a ten foot pole, which makes sense for her safety. BUT by default, the schedule comes to a crashing halt, making the waiting game SUPER inconvenient for the rest of the staff. Avery unlocked this level of enlightenment sometime last school year when she laid in the middle of the hallway from SO LONG, that the bus had to leave to get the other students home and mom HAD to come and pick her up. Win win for the kid with autism. Lose lose for the mom who remains unemployed by the school but still spends everyday there.

So Avery's little brain says, "Loose shoelace? No problem, I'll just lay here on this nice comfy concrete floor until they hail my mother from her regularly scheduled programming at home."

I realize that in many circumstances, moms and dads cannot just drop everything to rescue the staff from their kids. And that makes me wonder, how is the heck do they do it? They need ALL of the recognition. Because somehow my "stay at home mom-ness" has shifted from being by choice to... by demand. Demand of a certain seven year old with impressive emotional terrorism skills.

I'll NEVER complain about being a stay at home mom, it's a sweet gig and the current economic climate prevents a lot of mommas from doing it. But sometimes, would I rather input data into a computer for five hours just to accidentally delete it all and "oh bummer" get stuck there for another five hours to redo it? ..... yup. Ten whole hours away from big kid-sized poopy diapers, emotional warfare, and hour long stand offs with a seven year old? It doesn't sound like a tropical vacation, but it sounds like I won't have to touch another persons poop for a whole day, and that's a win.

Ultimately Avery is still the coolest ever and also gives the best loves. But also her poop stinks and she weaponizes the "starfish" approach to undesirable transitions. She puts me in timeout on an hourly basis and demands to pet my hair even when it's perfect for church on Sunday. She smacks strangers with floppy straws everywhere we go and won't wear dresses because they're "too floppy." She calls her family her "subscribers" and sometimes will only talk in caveman grunts. She eats only food that would be at a baseball concession stand and thinks giving kisses is licking your cheek. She terrorizes the dogs and hides her popcorn kernels under the couch cushions. She needs me to park in the same parking spot every time we go somewhere familiar and makes me bring her own Catboy bandaids to the doctors office. She gets me to carry her up the stairs and yells at me for the car being too cold. She fights me to the death over the electric blanket and acts like she's dying when I clip her toenails. She makes me buy double of all of her favorite things and she gets angry if you say "bless you" after she sneezes. But she gives me a good excuse to not ever get a job.... am I right?