There is an autistic young man at kiddo's school. He is somewhat engaged with the world and from what little I have seen him he seems like a likeable young man. Whenever he sees me in the hall, he pretty much always says "who's mom you are?" Yes, that's the syntax, yep, as accurately as I can record it. I always say "I'm kiddo's friend, not his mom" or "I'm the mom to three cats, and the friend of kiddo." The autistic guy has no reason to know better; he's never seen kiddo's mom at school and probably will never see her. After all, she doesn't even know how to get to kiddo's school without my getting her directions...arrgh.
But I AM a parent, and so is hubs. We have poured thousands upon thousands of hours into kiddo, and at least six figures worth of money to educate and care for this precious cargo God put on our doorstep eight years ago.
So I think we qualify for this job description. If you are a parent, or just play one on TV like we do, you should read this. God appreciates what you do, even if you feel kind of ignored or unappreciated at times. Remember that, okay? :-)
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