To my neurotypical children,
I worry you must often feel like my "other kids". The older three siblings of "the one with autism". You have never said it. But sometimes in the middle of the night, I lie awake blanketed in guilt. I remember earlier in the day I told you how excited I was that your little brother had his first non-meltdown haircut, but I forgot to ask you how your day was. I forgot to tell you how proud I am of you. I forgot to tell you I love you. Sometimes I’m so busy meeting the big needs of your younger sibling that I forget to fill your small ones.
The day-to-day mundane tasks I never even stopped to consider when you were growing up are all enormous challenges for your younger sibling. We work hard to help him overcome things that came so easily for you. He needs more of me than you did, and because of that, you get less.
I remember when each of you was born. It always surprised me how much of my day it took to take care of a newborn that slept most of the time! In the first few weeks, days would go by before I realised I had not showered. But I loved every minute of those early weeks, when I could bundle you each up like a baby burrito and snuggle you to my heart’s content.
Watch: Mia Freedman interviews Michael from Love On The Spectrum. Post continues below.
Then came the wiggly toddler phase. Whew! The days got long and messy! Building blocks, baby dolls, and crushed cereal were strewn from one end of the house to the other. You had bruised knees from those first wobbly steps, and I scrambled to keep up with jotting down in your baby books the words you began to rapidly learn.
Once you hit school-age, life shifted again. You kept me even busier! Three kids needed help with homework, three kids needed to get to soccer practice and dance lessons, three kids needed dinner, three kids each wanted three friends over. Our home was alive! I never realised how much I would miss those days — the joy of leftover pizza in the fridge and piles of sneakers at the front door.