Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Friday, June 7, 2013
Let's start with a couple definitions.
1.the quality or state of being perfect: as
a: freedom from fault or defect : flawlessness
b : the quality or state of being saintly
a : an exemplification of supreme excellence
b : an unsurpassable degree of accuracy or excellence
a : a defect in physical structure or form <a diamond with a flaw>
b : a weakness especially one that detracts from the whole or hinders effectiveness <vanity was the flaw in his character> <a flaw in the book's plot>
I can most definitely admit, I am not perfect. And I would rather not be. My kids, are not perfect. And I would rather them not be. I don’t feel like anyone should be held to that kind of expectation. Life is hard enough. I refuse to make my kids believe that I expect them to be perfect. It is my sincere hope that they know how proud I am of them regardless of any flaws people may label them with. Flaws. Flaws are what make each of us unique. Flaws are relative. They are merely opinions. They are what makes us break out of that limiting and boring cookie cutter form.
I want to celebrate the so called FLAWS my children have been labeled with, not bind them to a life of hiding these differences.
Ayden may not catch on to sarcasm or emotions as well as some people may think he should. He may expect his schedule to remain the same or be notified in advance of any detours. He may detest eye contact. But this kid respects. He loves. He smiles. He uses his brilliant mind for good. He sometimes picks on his brother and giggles releasing the little dimple that appears from mischievousness. He feels. He smiles politely when the kid at the skate park asks him if he’s Autistic or "just slow". He politely smiles. And then after a moment he politely and excitedly replies “Yes, I am Autistic. Thank you for noticing.” His response was not intended to be mean. It was not intended to be snarky. It was genuine. He appreciated being noticed. My momma bear claws retracted as I realized this isn’t going to be the only ignorant comment he’s going to hear in this life. And instead of ripping this ill-mannered juvenile a new one, I needed to let my child… my innocent child handle this his way. To learn. To grow. And to realize that he’s above these comments. His Ayden-isms are one in a million and beautiful and they are his own.
My children have wild imaginations, free spirits, and they love. Their love is sometimes SO BIG that it breaks the rules. You know the rules I’m talking about… no being a kid, no having fun, blah blah blah. They are children. They are magical and I will not allow their spirits to be diminished by walls built around them by ignorance or anything else for that matter. I want them to break out, I want them to explore. I want them to ask questions. I want them to be themselves. I want them… to live without fear of perfection and flaws.
... an 8:00 pm bedtime wouldn't hurt either.