My Qualifications

Throughout the years, many have questioned God's choice of me as Isaac's mom.  Heck, I've questioned God's choice of me as Isaac's mom.

Today I submit an honest list of my qualifications.

Who I am not:  I am not the most patient.  I am not a willing martyr.  I am not the strongest or the most faith filled.  I am not the best house keeper.  I am not perfect...or even close.

Who I am:  I am someone who tries.  And when I cannot try anymore...I try to try.

What qualifies me to be Isaac's mom:

Apparently I was God's first choice.  The Devine Creator has a wry sense of humor and He fashioned Isaac just as He would have this boy.  Then, God Himself put my son inside of me.  God chose Isaac for me and me for Isaac.

I am imperfect and I know it.  Someone who expected perfection from Isaac would have quit a long time ago.   His delays are extensive and not well hidden.  My imperfections are apparent too.  I don't make a huge effort to hide them.

I am stubborn.  I hate being told what to do and that I have no other option.  I argue with those who would limit Isaac's potential by failing to provide him with what he needs merely because they have never tried a different approach.  My call to arms is a sharp eyed, daring voiced, "Why not?"  Many hate that irreverent backtalk but it has consistently saved Isaac the effects of limited foresight.

I am proud and vain.  I will never surrender to your qualifications as mere letters on a page.  I will always think myself at least your equal.  I will never believe that you know more about my child than I do.  I will never concede my knowledge and qualifications as his mother.

I am demanding.  You must prove to me that you know what you are doing.  I will ask well informed questions.  I want an answer.  I will push you to think outside the box.  I will challenge.  I expect your "A Game".  I think I deserve it.  I know Isaac does.

I am selfish.  I wish life with Isaac was easier.  I wish he were typical.  I wish I never had to clean up feces.  I wish I never had to manage an aggressive teen age autism tantrum.  I wish I could communicate better with Isaac and he with me.  I wish I did not have to fight the established order of things.  I wish it weren't hard.  I don't get a thrill out of martyrdom.  I would trade the autism in a second if I could....but...

I know.  I know we all have something.  I know this is my thing.  Isaac's autism is my thing.

I love Isaac.  Even though sometimes I want to quit, I love him.

I'm not perfect.  I try to do the best I can.  When I cannot try anymore, I try to try.  I love Isaac.  I love his brother and sisters.   I'm not the best mom ever.  I gave up being supermom the day I gave birth.  I am society's last choice as Mother of the Year.   I am God's first choice to be my children's mom.  I think that's enough.