if i'd known it was international autism day, then i'd have baked a cake

and then thrown it at "the beast", in transit ("sorry michelle! love the belt!"), because that's what you seem to have to do to get any sort of attention around here at the moment.

i honestly didn't know anything about this, and i'm usually pretty on top of these things. i only know it is international autism day because they're doing a very nice feature about a little boy and a horse on "this morning". otherwise, i might have done more.

yesterday, i spent an hour and a half calming my 5 year old hysterical daughter down after she had been bullied by some neighbourhood kids. being called a baby for crying. a gullible and sweet nature being taken advantage of. punching and kicking. brutal kids (and some, not all, are around here, and she doesn't go to the same school) making themselves feel better by picking on the sweet girl. her self esteem was in bits, and even after all that time, she still told me, when i asked her to sit at the table for her dinner, that i was only doing so because i hated her. if i loved her, then i would let her watch spongebob. then she told me i was stupid and slammed the door in my face. she screams, she hits herself, she screams that she hates herself, that she is just a stupid girl who doesn't deserve to have any friends or any fun or a nice mummy. she destroys things, she lashes at her (much more docile but equally senstive) brother.

how these forces out of my control affect her self esteem is shattering, and it is very very hard to control my temper when she tells me that i hate her. sometimes i can't. sometimes, when you put so much energy and love and care and time and worry into someone's wellbeing, and you haven't slept properly in about 6 years, and you're worrying about a hundred million things, and you are human, and there is noone else to support either of you, to be told even that you don't care can feel like the biggest f*** you imaginable. and yet i recognise her frustration, i lived this, and that frightens me. i understand why she keeps going back to play with the neighbourhood kids, even when i remind her (using appropriate words) how damaging it can be for her. she wants to make friends and she can't fathom what makes people mean to her, so she keeps, with optimism, going back for more. and whne she screams at me because i don't want her to go outside to play, i have to weigh up what is ultimately more damaging- keeping her safely under my wing, or exposing her to the real world.

it should be pointed out that until recently it was thought that these meltdowns were entirely to do with her lack of father figure, simply put, but it seems this isn't entirely the case. she is to be assessed by the paediatric team next month. kids got a lot on her little shoulders.

on international autism day, even if my children don't have actual autism, perhaps i should be celebrating all the amazing things that make people anywhere on the spectrum so brilliantly different, so wonderful and inspirational. but i think that i spend the rest of the year doing that. so maybe, today, i'd like to put it out there that parenting this thing, whatever it turns out to be, is often heartbreaking- and i say that as both child and parent. i adore my children. i put a lot of work into making our life lighthearted, fun, positive and cool, and i wouldn't change anything for the world. nothing. but today, coinciding with international autism day, i'm taking the day off from the PR spin. but i might bake that cake.

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