Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
I started blogging awhile back on a different site and for a different reason. It was a space I used to pour out my anger and heartache (and then eventually positivity and encouragement) when learning to accept and manage a new ASD diagnosis for my son. It was a site that talked about learning to run in order as we learned how to deal.
I cried daily when I ran and when I wrote. I would talk stuff out with my awesome running partner. (Thank you forever and a day, Jen) and then I would talk it out online. For a number of years, running and writing truly became my therapy.
What I learned about blogging was that everyone has a story to tell, and surprisingly, when you tell it, people want to connect. As I wrote, I discovered my tribe. I got to know other amazing bloggers who talked through the story of Special Needs Parenting. I read and digested their blogs daily; I felt their pain, we shared our stories. I wrote the blog to spin a positive light on Autism, sharing successes and challenges but with a focus on hope and joy.
And then Autism got too much for me.
We had to fight the school board for support; we had to fight for resources and waiting lists; we had to teach our kids, our friends kids, our friends, teachers, swim instructors, hockey coaches and our families that talking about Autism did not have to feel hushed or uncomfortable (trust me, there are still friends and family who can’t seem to get over that piece). We had to learn to manage stranger stares and grocery shop glares, we had to learn to be different parents, we had to learn how to maintain our relationship in the midst of all this, and we had to learn not to turn on each other when you are so angry you are ready to tear someone apart.
I felt depressed. I walked away from the blog and we walked away from concentrating so much on Autism for a bit. We just decided to live with it. Know what? After awhile, it just kind of settled in like a member of the family. It’s funny how a change of perspective can completely redefine how you live your life.
We already know it is ever present in our lives and we SO know that we are about to enter into another phase soon of Autism awful (I see a dear friend going through it with her child in Junior High, and it kills me to see her have to deal with so much heartbreak). But we have decided that we don’t want to concentrate on the awful. Instead, we wanted to launch a new blog that provides a different perspective on Autism, on parenting, on pushing your limits, living life in the moment, travelling, adventure and everything in between from BOTH our viewpoints: Mom AND Dad.
So welcome to MomDadandCuppaKids.com. It may not be therapy, but we look forward to it being a lot of fun.
This is Dad. Dad does not (historically) share. Oh, I share stories, jokes, snacks and time, but feelings? Emotions? REAL stuff? No, no. But I saw how it worked for Jenn, allowing her to get some catharsis by putting herself out there and letting it go. So here we go: I will do my best to open up and give a sneak peak under the hood, I promise.
For me, the diagnosis of Autism for our son was overwhelmingly frustrating. I don’t mind a good fight, but I couldn’t see this opponent. I didn’t understand it, I felt guilty about the cause, and truly wondered how the hell I was going to get through it. WAY too many I’s in that world.
So, I shifted. I started thinking more about different life views, imagining how our guy would see the world. I read a lot of books, and did a lot of watching. I learned so much about how the world might not be as I viewed it. That has certainly opened up a whole new vista for me. I broadened my horizons by experiencing different viewpoints, cultures, and religions, and I realized they all deserved an opportunity to be heard. And that is what you get today, I hope.
I am still making mistakes, but I am trying to make more honest and educated ones. We have always been told Special Needs parenting is tricky. The catch is, parenting in general is tricky. We hope you get some enjoyment from our experience along the way.