How Do You Do It?
~A Soap Box Issue~

by Candes King-Meisenheimer

"How do you do it?"

This is a question that I get asked a lot, and most recently by a very dear friend that I hadn't talked to in many years.

I have 6 children, 3 of whom are on the autism spectrum. Add to that, my husband is also on the spectrum with Asperger's Syndrome, and most people just stop, let their mouths drop, and can't find the air to come up with words, much less any words to say. When they do, 9 times out of 10, their first words are, "How do you do it?"

The first thing that runs through my mind, and often from my tongue, is, "Do what'cha gotta do." Yep, I'm quoting Garth Brooks there. You caught my inner cowgirl showing through.  But, it's true. Life isn't a game you can just quit playing anytime you want, or call a mulligan because you didn't get dealt the cards you wanted. You have to put one foot in front of the other, every day, and just do what you have to do.

I rarely think about the cards I've been dealt anymore. This is simply the hand I have to play. Some would say I have three jokers and a one-eyed jack. If so, I choose to remember that those are all wild cards, and they have greater possibilities than any of the other cards in the deck.

I have my hands full, and then some. Do I ever get upset about it? Sure. Do I ever yell and scream? You bet. Do I ever just sit there and cry? Absolutely. I'm not superwoman, nor do I pretend to be.

I learned very early that there would be things I'd have to give up in life; things that Neurotypical people, with Neurotypical children would never understand. Things like normal friendships. Things like quiet family dinners and daily routines that at least halfway resemble everyone else's. Like being able to pull up to a school and having my kids hop in back, who proceed to tell me all about their day, for good or for bad.

Things like my child having the ability to tell me why she's crying.

And, well, to be quite honest, things like sex. But that's a whole different column.

I learned to trade those things I would have to do without for new, different things. I don't go to PTA meetings, I go to city council meetings to fight for the rights of the disabled. I don't drop my kids off at school in the morning, I get up early and teach them myself. I don't schedule doctor's appointments for once a year, because rarely a week goes by when I don't have one, or two, or more. I don't have my mom's phone number on speed dial, I have my family's neurologist's. I don't have many friends who will travel even 20 minutes to see me, but I have a lot of doctors who will travel hundreds, even thousands of miles to do so.

So, how do I do it? A wise man once wrote, "And acceptance is the answer to all of my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation - some fact of my life - unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment."

I take each day one at a time. I plan for the future as best as I can, but I accept that the future I get may not end up being the future I envisioned. It may be better, it may be worse, or may just be different. I learned not to blame myself for my mistakes, or my circumstances, yet, at the same time take responsibility for them. I stopped crying, "What about me?" and started asking, "What about you?"

I came to accept that my life would never be normal, that my kids and my husband and my marriage will never be normal. I stopped trying to shove them into the neat little boxes society tries to put them into. My 14-year-old may never have a regular job, but she may be the next Stan Lee. My husband will probably never be the primary breadwinner in our family, but he has an occupation he enjoys.

I started asking myself why I was doing certain things, why I was trying to get my kids and husband to do certain things. Was I doing this because society said it was what I had to do? What were the odds that my children would ever grow up to do these things, even if I taught them how to when they were young? What would happen if I didn't?  I started questioning everything.

And stopped trying play someone else's hand.

I stopped trying have all of the things 'normal people' have, like new furniture, and learned how to reupholster what I have. I stopped trying to force my husband to go on family vacations, or even out to dinner, and learned to love being at home. I stopped shopping at the mall and started shopping at goodwill so we can pay for the speech therapist our insurance doesn't cover. I learned how to sew, I learned how to cook bread without milk, wheat, eggs, butter, or preservatives, and make it good enough to eat. I learned how to make cookies, really good cookies, without sugar. I stopped trying to get my kids invited to every birthday party that came along, and started teaching them how to maintain friendships. I stopped trying to make my husband look good in front of other men, and started standing shoulder to shoulder with him against the world.

So, how do I do it?

One day at a time.