Just Do It!

"How do you do it?"... " I don't know how you do it!"

I have heard this many times, and almost as many times, I have never really stopped to think about it. The couple of times I have stopped to think about it, I have never really come up with an awe-inspiring answer.

How do I do what? I guess from what I can figure, generally, people are asking how I 'cope' with being a solo parent with 3 children, 2 of which have been diagnosed with ASD, 1 of those being quite 'low-functioning'. No wait, I REALLY REALLY hate that term! How about we say 'high-maintenance'.....but like Kath Day-Knight says " yes I'm high-maintenance, but I think ya gotta be!"

I'm 99% not offended when people ask me 'how I cope', although one time I was extremely offended and almost used B's headbutting tactic on this STUPID woman living in her own self-proclaimed-perfect bubble, who said to me " how do you put up with That?" as she gestured towards B. But you know the type....straight to A Current Affair with her pending assault charge against the 'out-of-control, tattooed single mother, living the high life on Centrelink benefits, letting her 3 sons run wild through the streets and terrorising honest upper middle-class tax-paying citizens, while she sits at home watching Oprah'. So a headbutt was soooooo not worth it.

How DO I do it? I wish I could give an answer like giving away a secret ingredient in a family recipe, or an answer that will later be published in a best-selling book. But I cannot. I'm still not really sure why people ask me anyway. I don't think it's anything amazingly difficult, my life. It certainly can have it's moments, but I don't think what I deal with is anywhere near the serious stuff some people have to go through. I'm sure everyone has the same feelings and stages in their life, just through a different set of circumstances, and with different characters. Challenges don't seem to discriminate. I see myself as a mother who wants the best for her children. I think it's quite normal...and maybe it is, or maybe it isn't. But who sets the parameters for what's normal? And damned if I'm going to be told that I'm not normal by some mustached freak with a handful of degrees and acronyms after their name, who listens to Justin Beiber, probably likes females 30 years his junior & has waitors fired if his finger bowl doesn't have a slice of lemon from fruit hand-picked by naked Balinese maidens, while he is on the phone to his cross-dressing Ecstacy dealer.


All I can say is I just do it. ......I know....what an anti-climax!