My gal has been away at camp for close to two weeks and we will be picking her up on Saturday to bring her home. Now, if I were to be politically correct I would tell you all how much we missed her and how I could barely stand it as the days were passing so slowly.
Here's the truth. This is her fourth year of camp and this is the first year that I have enjoyed every minute...and I haven't felt terribly guilty about it.
When we dropped her off at camp, she ran off quite happily. We've spoken on the phone to both her and her counselors (she asks one question, I answer, and then she is finished) and we receive email updates. All of this had lead me to be content in knowing that she is happy and healthy.
The first weekday that she was gone, I had a routine physical procedure that would have been beyond complicated to do if she were home. After the procedure I felt sick, but was able to sleep in the peace of our home. Hubby was the best caretaker ever. The next day we took a mini vacation to Boston and Cape Cod and we stayed for 5 days. I cannot begin to describe the fun and relaxing time we had, but suffice to know that it was awesome and included a Red Sox game, many hours at an art museum, and grown up restaurants! We were supposed to leave on Friday but changed plans and stayed through Saturday.
This second week has been different. We've both gone to work but after work the time is all ours. We can do whatever we want. We can change our minds and it's fine. We can eat late or early. We can go out with friends at a moment's notice. We can do errands that require concentration and time. We can exercise together, talk to each other, watch our own shows with no interruptions or distractions, sleep in the dark AND wake up in the same bed (without our gal pulling my hubby out so she can get in).
Now this may not all seem like a big deal, but trust me, it is.
Here is how our exercise at the gym usually works with our gal home:
I leave from work and go to the gym. He picks up RJC from her program, brings her home for a snack, then they meet me at the gym. Depending on how cooperative she is, I may wait 5 minutes or 30 minutes for them. They get to the gym and hubby goes off to exercise while I have RJC so we walk a mile around the track - no more, no less. She then likes to ride the bicycle so we go down to that area of the gym where she rides and I stand behind her to prompt her if she gets too loud. Hubby comes to find us when he is finished or when my exercise class is about to start (which can frustrate him because he isn't finished with his own exercise routine) - whichever happens first. They head home and I head to my exercise class before going home. Personally, I find this anxiety producing.
Here's what happened when hubby and I went this week alone:
We met home and went to the gym together. We worked out. We went home.
Now I feel the need to say none of this means that I don't love and adore my child or that I wish I had a different child or any of the other crazy things I've heard people say when somebody states the facts of their life with a child with autism. I am simply saying that a two week respite has been needed, appreciated, and taken advantage of to the max.
For parents of children with any special needs, or for those who are caretakers for their parents or partners or anyone else - it's ok to enjoy time alone. It's important to enjoy time alone. It's imperative to enjoy time alone. It does not make you a bad parent, partner, or person. Do I still struggle with this in my heart, even if I know it in my head? I do. But as time goes on the struggle is less and I am able to relax and enjoy without feeling horrible that I am doing so.
It should be perfectly fine to say "I need a break. I want a break. I have a break and am enjoying this break immensely" without fearing that we will be labeled as uncaring or selfish. I have loved my gal from the day she entered this world and I will always love her. Just the way she is.
But politically correct or not, I have come to terms with the idea that I need my two weeks.
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