God Had Nothing To Do With This

Sometimes, well-meaning people try to give our situation a cosmic perspective.  They point out how our older son has learned so much and become such a caring and responsible child as a result of our younger boy's autism.

"He's so good with his brother.  So patient and kind.  He wouldn't be the same if his brother were different."

It's a nice idea, but I'd like to think we'd be capable of raising a caring and responsible child without this fucking albatross that is autism.  Whatever.

Sometimes, they try to ascribe certain characteristics to our boy that are a stretch, at best.

"He's an angel."
"He's a gentle giant."

If you've read my previous post, you'd know the score on that.

But the thing that really gets me is this platitude:  "God gave you the child He knew you could handle."

OK, I know this is intended to pay some amazing compliment.  It suggests that my husband and I are superhero parents and God looked down and said, "Give him to them.  They will know what to do."

Here's the problem:  He's fucking GOD.  If he can control everything, why give a kid autism in the first place?

I refuse to believe that God, if He exists, gave my child autism to prove to the world what a rock-star I am.   That's just douche-baggery.

I'd like to think that God is not a douche bag.

If I've pissed you off, I don't have time to apologize.  The boy just dumped cereal on the dog.