All We Need is Love by Heather Meade

I made a pretty big decision recently regarding my 4-year-old autistic twins - everyone is putting too much emphasis on the material things, and that has put a tremendous stress on our lives, an unnecessary stress, at that.

What do I mean by that? Well, I'm glad you asked! What I mean is everyone keeps asking me "What do the twins need? What do they want for their birthday/Christmas (birthday usually gets left out of that question for the obvious reason that it's a week apart). The answer is love. Not a big birthday party with gorgeously wrapped gifts they won't open or care about, anyway.

When the boys can express, or I can comprehend, that a big birthday celebration is what they want - then that's when we'll put forth that energy. But for now, that energy is better spent toward them - experiences that we can share, rather than toys that will ultimately get used briefly and discarded because the twins have chewed it beyond recognition/safety, or because they've abused it until it no longer works.

The thing with my kids is that unlike typical kids, they're not simply placated by things that hold no meaning to them - at least with my two, they're more likely to get upset that you wanted them to stop what they were doing to not even open the present you bought them. I don't think that the people in our lives quite grasp this concept.

It's along the same lines of why I quit my job to be a stay-at-home-mom, regardless of the financial strain. My kids need me, not a paycheck, not things. They are currently almost completely dependent on their father and I. I looked at the approved definitions, and they qualify as severely autistic, as much as it hurts my heart to say that. Their needs are significant, and

they're mostly being met by one parent.

Think for a moment, if you will, about all of your typically developing child's needs - the strain and stress of raising multiple children, regardless of their needs - now imagine that your child couldn't speak for himself, couldn't grasp the concept of potty training no matter how many different ways you'd tried it for whatever duration your child could handle without being stretched beyond his limits.

My uncle (we'll call him Old Soul) came to visit today, and I heard his 3-year-old son say, "Daddy, I love you." And I almost cried. I looked at him, and I said "Every time you hear that, I want you to do something for me."

"What's that?" Old Soul replied.

"Remember just how precious that is. Because I've never heard those words."

"I do, anyway," he said.

No matter what anyone says about him, I can learn much from Old Soul - there's a reason I chose that name to represent him - he was born in the wrong era, for sure. I'm hoping that he and I can both get things sorted out in our lives to help make spending more time together a possibility, because our visits are awesome and much needed, at least for me.

But that interaction between all of us, that was priceless. It was also exactly what Pricklypants and I have been so frustrated about not having in our lives. It's what's been missing in my life, specifically, for far too long. It's something I'm working to change. I miss my family, and I hate that autism has made this huge divide that no one feels comfortable enough to bridge.

Growing up, I didn't necessarily get everything I wanted, though if you ask my stepsisters I surely must have! But that just makes me better equipped to deal with the life I lead now, because my wonderful mother gave me all the love I could handle, which over the years has ranged from feeling stifling and overwhelming to what can only be described as pure love, and everything in between.

For all her faults, for all the mistakes that she and I both know were made, I know my mother never once stopped loving me, and that she always made sure that I was taken care of, even if she wasn't the one doing it. I don't really remember playing with my mom much - because, to be honest, many of my childhood memories before the age of about 10 have mostly been repressed, and the things I think I vaguely remember are almost entirely from hearing stories rehashed at family gatherings over the years. My childhood wasn't pretty, and that gives me that much more determination to make sure that my children don't go through some of the things that I went through. It makes me stronger.

I was just telling a friend how I can't be mad that I've gone down the path that I've gone down, I can only use the trail of breadcrumbs that I've left behind to remember where I've been, and to remind myself that those mistakes cannot be repeated. Not just for the sake of my children, but also for my own sake.

So this holiday season, please remember, especially if you have loved ones with special needs dependents - it's not about what's wrapped up pretty in a box, it's about making memories, it's about knowing what people really need.

Heather Meade - A newspaper reporter turned stay-at-home-mom, Heather Meade is still exploring all the beauties and downsides of autism parenting with her 4-year-old twin boys, Gamble and Gage, both of whom are on the spectrum. Learn more at chockfullasd.blogspot.com and follow their shenanigans on Facebook or Twitter

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