Anytime I have a problem in my life, I make jokes about it. And I laugh at improper moments because that's how I deal with stressful situations. Because if you can't find my life funny, can't find the humor in it all, then you need to go get your head examined.
So, yeah, I've called Darwin a one-eyed cretin; I've complained about his food allergies (and that was before we got the comprehensive test with more than 250 items and he was allergic to all of them); I've cried over Griffin's behavior before he was diagnosed this past fall.
I don't talk about it much, but Griffin has Sensory Integration Disorder. It basically means he doesn't process touch, sounds, smells, etc. the way he should. Having a diagnoses has been great in helping us understand him and interacting with him. Yes, it is still difficult and we all have our moments of not coping, but knowing what's going on is a big help.
Griffin's Occupational Therapist keeps pushingpushingpushing us to get him evaluated for autism. And "autism" is a difficult word to process when someone is using it to describe your child.
By no means is Griffin autistic in the sense that a lot of kids are -- he interacts, he loves to be held, I can get him to calm down and sometimes I can even reason with him.
Regardless if Griffin his "high-functioning autistic" like his OT thinks he is (and she claims that he has the intelligence/reasoning abilities of a nine year old, but the body control of a two year old and she thinks his IQ is "off the charts"), he is by no means your standard-issue child.
At four years old, other kids don't "get" him. They have a hard time interacting with him, as do a lot of adults and even family members.
It's hard. It's heartbreaking.
And all this helps explain why I spent six hours making him this today...