Romance novels

Romance novels are probably 80% of what I read. Earlier today I was sitting at the Y waiting for JD’s gymnastics class to finish, reading a historical novel that takes place in the 1800s about an interracial couple and their children growing up right after most Native Americans were sent to reservations. It was a wild west historical, very nicely written in case you're interested, called Reckless Love by Madeline Baker. There is a point to this, I'm getting to it. Bear with me.

So there I am sitting, periodically looking towards the door hoping it’s going well and cringing at the thought that this might be another activity that does not go well. This isn’t a special needs class, their teacher assured me they’ve had many spectrum kids in their class before and they should be fine. Frankly, I’m not reassured and am worried but we decided to give it a try. Maybe I’m brave, stubborn, or crazy. If you’ve read my blog for a bit you know that we have struggled with getting JD to enjoy and cooperate in a sports group activity & I’d given up on it for the summer and spring. I have no idea why I’m trying again. Perseverance or insanity.

While reading, I think about the challenges my kids may face. My kids are biracial, I’m Guatemalan and my husband is Caucasian. We've come a long way since the civil rights movement. I don't worry too much about racism. I'm not saying racism doesn't exist, I fear that may never end. I'm saying that I hope to raise them strong enough that their self esteem isn't affected by it. Whatever challenges and disabilities they may face in their lives, I don’t want them to care about others opinions, I don’t want them to feel belittled and I never want them to feel ashamed of themselves.

Then I thought, what if they read my blog! Crap! I’m always venting out my fears and frustrations. I mean, that’s why I started the blog! So I started planning this post because I want the kids to know that I am so happy to be their mom. I want them to know and see in writing, that I am not ashamed of them, I’m proud of what they’ve surpassed and of who they are becoming. I am sure as they grow there will be moments of parental pride and moments when they will make me want to bang my head because of their teenage pranks. I don’t ever want them to think that all of my venting and frustrations in any way indicate that I am ashamed of who they are or were as children. Sure we have challenges; it’s not easy to be raising 3 so close in age on 1 income. Our schedule is insane between therapies and doctors appointments. Yes my life is so very different from the pre-kids days, they are my 1^st priority. This is how it should be.

I spent so many years not sure if I wanted kids, knowing I wanted to establish a career before having them, then I spent married life wanting kids and hoping it would happen on its own. I remember the emotions I felt as the nurse confirmed my pregnancy over the telephone, the first ultrasound, all of those pregnancy moments. I didn’t have easy pregnancies—both times I had high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia. With the twins I also had gestational diabetes. Both times I was induced about a month early as a result. But I loved being pregnant, it was emotional and just lovely.

So kids, years from now if you’re somehow reading my blog, I am not ashamed of you. Truly, God blessed me when he made me a mother. But parenthood does not come without its challenges and this page is my way to vent my emotions because frankly I’m tired of talking about autism and delays with friends and family. I’d rather just write about it.