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Living with a child on the Autism Spectrum of Disorders is a challenge I raise to on a daily basis. Oh how I want to stop parenting and hurt my child with Aspergers at times. Although I would never hurt him, I do at times entertain thoughts of hitting him because he just does not stop. He screams, he stomps, he argues. He hates me when I try to help him. Parenting and living with him is at times difficult, frustrating and I have completely changed my world around to try to give him the best chance in life.

Such a cherub he presents as when friends meet him. He's Heathcliff from Wuthering! Be warned. What you see on a good day is not what you get during an Aspergers melt down.

I walk the eggshells. I understand. I admonish myself for a wrongly picked word, a mismanaged cue, or a toy in the wrong place. I am going CRAZY! I am TIRED! I am ISOLATED! I am TOO TIRED TO FUNCTION or live beyond survival at times.

I cut back on my income stream and rely on my partner to help pay the bills. He's ready to walk. He's ready to say, "Too hard. I don't have to put up with this. This is not my child. MY child would be good."

I want to swear. I will scream (inside, I NEVER let out inappropriate behavior). I want to shake the helping professionals and say, "this is real, this is not text book, this is my breathing moments. This is the reality of living with Autism" I am not game because, I am not a failure. Outbursts are unattractive and immature (unless you have Aspergers and haven't yet learned how to behave appropriately during a melt down). I am angry inside though. I'm angry like a volcano, a tsunami, a bull in Spain. I'm angry that nobody has ever asked me what it's like living with a child who has Aspergers.

The work phone rings. The Department of something or other wants me to do an assessment on something or other. I'm sorry I can't do it this week, I say smiling into the phone and thinking of the sinking bank balance. Yes, I am very experienced, yes I am a leader in the field, yes I teach at university...but I am also a mother and that is my first profession. I am a mother of a sad little dichotomy, a handsome and intelligent boy who lacks the social skills to survive this cruel world: An intelligent little boy who cannot read alone, who cannot spell my name, who cannot survive my busy, hectic and stress driven professional world. A little boy misunderstood by the world, including me at times.

My heart is heavy: it is heavier than divorce, heavier than death, heavier than

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