Happy Birthday, Wilder!

Today is Wilder's fifth birthday -- yay! I'm very happy he's part of our lives. He is a wonderful, loving, special person who happens to have autism. I attended a seminar yesterday that was teaching approaches to manage problem behavior for people with developmental disabilities. Even though Wilder has pretty poor manners (he doesn't know or follow most social rules) for the most part he is well behaved (he doesn't hurt others or throw things). But when he does get upset, it can get pretty intense, so we want to have some tools available. I arrived late, and just after I sat down another woman arrived and sat next to me. Within moments, she was starting to whisper to me about her own troubles with her child. Now, to me, that's just rude, but she didn't seem to think it was inappropriate. She also made quite a few observations aloud in response to invitations from the presenter, which was fine. I bring this up because I was struck by the attitude she seemed to have toward her child -- that he was such a problem, and that she was suffering because of his behavior. Also, this is not the first time I've observed this attitude in another parent of a child with autism. Don't get me wrong--we all need to vent, and our kids do drive us crazy. It is hard, hard, hard. But I find it alien when I hear a parent who seems to regard herself as the victim in the situation. I mean, the kid is the one who has to struggle the most. I do feel sorry for myself, but the thing that makes me grieve is knowing how unfair this struggle is to Wilder. I hate to see him suffer -- he's a good, loving person who tries his best, and he doesn't deserve to have such a hard path. But then I tell myself the same thing, the quote from The Unforgiven, "It's not a question of deserve." This is just the way it is. I recently rediscovered a copy of a poem by Langston Hughes called "Mother to Son." It's short, so I'll reproduce it here. (Note: Unlike the mother in the poem I've had a pretty good staircase.) Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair. It's had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor - Bare. But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on, And reachin' landin's, And turnin' corners, And sometimes goin' in the dark Where there ain't been no light. So, boy, don't you turn back, Don't you set down on the steps 'Cause you find it's kinder hard, Don't you fall now - For I'se still goin', honey, I'se still climbin', And life for me ain't been no crystal stair. So Wilder, happy fifth birthday, and know that I am not going to give up on you. I know you can keep on climbing.