Autism Mums; a poem.

Autism Mums; a poem. When it is quiet and I get a moment alone, I think of my girl, how much she has grown, How far she has come in a short space of time, In the darkest of days, she is my sunshine. The visions I had when she was first diagnosed, How I…… Continue reading Autism Mums; a poem.

Horrible, horrible anxiety.

Gnawing. Destroying. Damaging. Poisoning. Spoiling. Eroding. Wrecking. Shocking. Saddening. Consuming. Disturbing. Horrifying. Panicking. Upsetting. Worrying. Threatening. ……..Anxiety. Feeling so empty….. ……yet feeling so full of emotions. Nibbling, biting, chewing, gnawing, eating away at you. Constantly burrowing, crawling under your skin. There. Always there. Creeping, crawling, tunneling its way in. I read something today about anxiety…… Continue reading Horrible, horrible anxiety.

The sunshine through the trees. I don’t hate Autism.

I don’t hate Autism. Does it come across that I do? I don’t. At all. I hate parts of it. I hate the parts that make my childs life so difficult. I hate that I can’t make my child understand that I am trying to help. I hate that it makes me scared of my…… Continue reading The sunshine through the trees. I don’t hate Autism.

A constant battle.

Half term has been hard work. I want school to be back. I haven’t missed the morning battles to get her to school. I don’t want her to go back. She seems more settled in the holidays. But she needs the routine. I need the break. She is shouting already because she doesnt want to…… Continue reading A constant battle.

My child. A poem.

I am me, You are you, I have children, You do too, Mine aren’t naughty, Yours aren’t good, They are just behaving, As children should. I am a mum, You are a Dad, Somedays we are happy, Somedays we are sad, You are normal, I am too, We are all parents, And that’s what we…… Continue reading My child. A poem.

Praise….please don’t.

My girl attended a hospital appointment today. She was so well behaved, so co-operative, so I told her. I praised her, told her well done, told her that she had been a star. My mistake. My girl hates praise. …..I hate that. When she does something good it is natural for me to say “Well…… Continue reading Praise….please don’t.