Raising a child with autism takes patience—a lot of patience. This virtue has been my daughter, Hannah’s, gift to me.
However, every once in a great while, patience gets thrown to the curb and an “epic Mom fail” happens. While these “Mom meltdowns” are few and far between, they usually end with me feeling as if I’ve let my daughter down.
Except for the last one in the fall of 2017.
The Setting
Hannah was in the seventh grade. I had arrived at cross country practice to pick her up, and she immediately started complaining that her brother, Connor, was sitting in the front seat. She and Connor quarreled for a while. After getting everyone situated in the car, she asked what was for dinner.
“Chili,” I responded.
That wasn’t good enough.
After walking into our home, Hannah refused to get her all her things—backpack, laptop case, violin case, lunchbox—out of the car. That became my job.
Throughout the evening, her behavior didn’t improve one bit. Homework, piano practice, shower time, and our nightly devotional were all a struggle. I had listened to enough. She had set the tone of our entire evening, and I wasn’t going to allow her to behave like this one more time.
The “Mom Fail”
This is exactly when the epic “Mom fail” happened. I had lost my patience. Nothing I could do for her was good enough, nor were my prompts being acknowledged. She did not have the right to speak to me in such a condescending tone!
Right then and there, I looked at her and said, “Since I can’t seem to do anything right for you, I believe it’s time for you to take care of yourself! Tomorrow morning prepare to get ready for school on your own.”
I knew I had to follow through.
I instructed her on how to set her alarm clock to awaken for school the next day all by herself.
I reminded her of the three lists posted in the house that sequenced her morning routine: on the bathroom cabinet door, on the kitchen breakfast table, and on the laundry room door.
I reminded her that her bus arrives at 6:42 sharp, and she would need to catch it because I wasn’t going to take her to school.
As soon as my head hit the pillow that evening, I knew I’d made a mistake. There was no way that she could do this by herself. What was I thinking?
The Morning on Her Own
Her alarm sounded at 5:45. My bedroom is in the same hallway as hers, so I knew I could listen to her every move.
She nonchalantly came into my room and whispered, “I’m up, Mom, and I’m going to get ready.”
Next, I heard her in the bathroom brushing her teeth and opening and closing the bathroom drawers.
I listened to her walk downstairs to her list. The refrigerator was opened along with the pantry door. Could she really be doing this herself?
After listening to her eat breakfast, I heard her scurry to get all of her bags and cases sorted.
The garage door went up, and I heard a “Bye, Mom.”
“I love you very much!” I called out. “Have a good day!” I felt myself smiling.
The Jacket
Did Hannah really complete her morning routine without my help?
I gasped. The jacket! Hannah would be so cold at the bus stop without her jacket!
I always keep an extra in her backpack, but would she remember? I flew down the hallway to Connor’s room, peeked through the blinds, and saw Hannah at the bus stop.
She put down her backpack and other belongings, pulled out her jacket and put it on, and then packed up again! She hopped on the bus, and my phone dinged with her text: “I’m sorry, Mom. It won’t happen again.”
An apology! My daughter sent a sincere, articulate apology for her interaction the day before.
Epic Failure Turns into Stunning Success
A mother’s “epic fail” had turned into her daughter’s stunning success! My mistake led to Hannah’s shining moment. And it spoke volumes about the progress she was making toward independence—on that day, both us realized all that she’s capable of.
So, how did my daughter come this far?
As a single, working mom, it is all too tempting at times for me to do certain tasks for Hannah. I want to set out the clothes, charge her laptop, and pack her lunch for her like I did for years—but that would only hurt her in the long run. In fact, there’s a term for that—”learned helplessness.”
I want Hannah to be confident and independent, not helpless. She will only learn this from the experience of helping herself instead of depending on others.
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Be sure to check out my new book, Dragonfly: A Daughter’s Emergence From Autism . . . A Practical Guide for Parents, for suggestions on how to foster independence, along with more helpful suggestions, which will resonate with your own family’s journey with autism. Dragonfly can be purchased online on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Target, and Skyhorse Publishing, Inc. websites.
I welcome your questions, thoughts, and concerns on this topic—just drop them in the comment section below or contact me. Also, subscribe to our new mailing list below for autism resources, the latest blogs, free downloads, and information about my upcoming release in April.
Take care,
Lori
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