Snow Days

For the past couple of days the entire country has been on shutdown because of snow. Schools have been closed. Shops have been closed. Everyone was advised to stay indoors during the country's red weather alert. I'm happy to comply. I have no desire to be out in blizzards. It's cold enough indoors without crossing the door into sub-zero temperatures.

My hubby, however, is not like me. He LOVES the snow. He loves to drive in the snow, walk in the snow, make his own skis when he is in work to walk around in the snow. He really has been happy these past couple of days simply because we have had snow. When he arrived home from work on Wednesday he was just beaming like an excited little child and I immediately had to tell him that there was no way the children were going outside to play in that. It was just too windy and far too cold. I could tell he was disappointed.

The next morning, 5am-ish, he ventured off to work again in the snow. It wasn't long before the decision was made to close down the country and so he made his way back home again, stopping to get groceries so we were stocked up for the bad weather. He talked about the snow when he got home. We watched snow reports on the news. Social media was filled with pictures and updates on the red weather alert. My hubby was constantly looking out of the windows to give me the latest updates.......even though I was right there beside him.

Eventually I gave in! "Ok, take the kids outside whilst I get dinner ready". His eyes lit up! Coats, scarves, hats, boots were all fetched in record time. Out into the backyard they went. I watched from the warmth of the kitchen. I watched Lexi be very unsure about the snow. I watched her nervously choose her steps on the snow covered decking. I watched my hubby make snowballs and throw them at the shed. I watched him hold the children's hands as he showed them it was safe to explore the snowy land. I watched him start to roll a snowball to make it big enough to become the body of a snowman. I laughed when he told me how cold his hands were but I told him he wasn't coming back inside until the snowman was finished. And I watched Kal-el walk up and down the garden making footprints in the snow. He wouldn't touch the snow. He wouldn't throw a snowball. He wouldn't touch the snowman. He was happy. He was commenting. He was intrigued. But he wasn't taking part. That's just Kal-el. That's just our normal.

From the warmth of our kitchen, as we sat over dinner, we admired the snowman through the window and named him Stanley. Stanley Snowman with the corn-cob nose and the small stone eyes and mouth and of course buttons.

The next day the snow was even worse mainly due to the gale-force winds that had been blowing all night. Cabin fever was setting in though. I was stuck indoors for yet another day. I would have given anything to find a coffee shop that had risked their workers lives just to be open so that I could get out of the house for an hour with the family. We settled on visiting my brother who lives close instead, you know, just to save all of those barista lives. After lunch, we packed up the kids and I drove us on the snow and ice to their home. My brother and his wife have a three-year-old boy, my nephew Josiah. Our kids are similar ages and so they all just love to spend time together playing....and fighting....as little kiddies do. Kal-el just adores spending time with Josiah. He can be himself around him. He interacts with him. Talks with him. Plays with him. Apart from his sister Lexi, Josiah is the only other person in the world that he can do this with.

Whilst I was more than happy to curl up on the couch in the warmth and watch tv while drinking tea and eating biscuits, the kiddies had other ideas. There was snow outside and they wanted to be out in it. The coats, scarves, hats and boots went back on and out they went with warnings of not throwing snowballs at each others faces. It wasn't long before my hubby was outside with them. After all, he is just a big kid himself. I watched from the kitchen window. Another snowman was under construction. Josiah was delighted. He was talking with Derek about the snowman and what they would need to build it. He was helping Derek gather snow and asking questions about how they would build the body and then the head. Josiah was running into the house looking for all of the things he would need to make the nose and the eyes and how he would need arms and a hat. When he would collect what he needed, he would race back out to Derek excitedly.

My brother made a comment about how good Derek was at all of that outdoorsy stuff with the kids.

I choked.

Yes he is. My hubby loves to play outside with the kids. In the summer he loves to take a football outside and kick it around with the kids. In the winter he loves to go outside and build snowmen and throw snowballs with the kids. When he's building things he loves to spend time showing the kids what he is doing and how to do it. He is just naturally great with the kids, with involving them, playing games with them, teaching them.

It just breaks my heart that it always has to be other people's kids though.

You see, my hubby doesn't get to do any of that stuff with his own son because his own son's autism means that his own son has no interest in kicking a football with Daddy in the garden, or being around the noisy drill when Daddy is putting shelves up, or helping Daddy pack the snow together to make the snowman.

I choked because I know that my hubby would give anything to be able to do all of these outdoorsy fun things with his own son, but instead he can only do them with his nephews.

Daddies and sons have a special bond. Daddies take sons to football matches. Daddies take sons to build go-karts, climb trees, build forts, wrestle on couches. My hubby is this kind of Daddy. He wants to do all of the Daddy things with his son. I thank God my almost adult son (his stepson) does all of the Star Wars and superhero movies with Derek. That's their thing. But as for doing all of the Daddy things with Kal-el, well he can't. At least not yet.

But he would never say anything or complain. Instead, he takes every opportunity to do these things with the other kiddies , the nephews, who want to do these things with him.

As I stood watching from the window, I choked as I remembered all of the times my hubby had tried to initiate games with Kal-el and how frustrated he was when all Kal-el would do is screech and tell him to put the game away. I remembered all of the times the football would get kicked to Kal-el but would never get kicked back. And how, instead, Kal-el would want the ball thrown into the air, over and over and over and over again. Yes, it was a game, but it wasn't the game my hubby had wanted to play.

I choked because I wanted to sob. I wanted to tell my hubby how sorry I was that I didn't give him a son who would do all of these outdoorsy fun things with him. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was that our little boy has autism, that he's different, that he will probably never play football or climb a tree or build a fort. I wanted to tell my hubby that I know when he reads this he'll want to tell me he never thinks this way and that he wouldn't change a thing about our lives because he's happy. But I know. I know what he is missing out on. I know that the dreams he had for Daddy and son time when he first laid eyes on his baby boy seem so far away now. I know that there's a grieving process that comes with an ASD diagnosis because you have to let go of so many of the aspirations you had. I know that my hubby loves Kal-el more than words could ever describe and that he wouldn't change him for anything, but I know that their relationship will be different that what he had imagined. I know that he'll feel the ache when other Daddies talk about what they did with their sons over the weekend. I know how he'll wish he could say the same back to them. I know he won't know what to say sometimes just because other Daddies won't understand.

I know. And I'm sorry.