Every once in a while, I let my mind wander into my son’s future. I have visions of what his future could hold, but then reality sets in, and I usually don’t like what I see. I remind myself that he’s only 6 1/2 years old, and he’s going to be who he is meant to be, weather I like it or not.
There’s no skirting around that subject whatsoever.
But in truth, I can’t let it destroy me as much as I do… because when reality rears its ugly head, I need to face the facts that my son has Autism! He stims vocally and physically (sometimes), he’s smart, but his behavior gets in his own way at times, and when he over reacts to something in his control, it kills me that he doesn’t see it… because he’s the one who can change it.
And then there are those times (I know you have them too), where you just look at your child, and you see the progress! You see how far they’ve come in a short amount of time. You can see how hard they work, and you just want to shower them with love, because you’re so proud of them! And at the end of the day, you snuggle them, and you look into their eyes, and you just know that everything is going to be all right. And you cry because you’re so happy, and you cry because you’re so scared at the same time.
As a mom, I feel victory and let-down about 100 times a day, just about every day. I wonder if I’m making the right decisions. And then I wonder if the “right” decisions that I’ve made will come back slap me in the face later on in life, because maybe in fact they weren’t the right decisions at all.
We all want what’s best for our children, and as parents of typical or nontypical children, we try to be the little voices inside their heads. We hope that when we kiss them and send them off to school each day, we hope and pray that they make good decisions. We hope that they think twice about their behavior. We hope that when something is bothering them, they go to the right people for help. And we will always hope that they are kind and respectful to those around them… because we taught them to be that way. They’re a mini version of us, and sometimes even they surprise us with the unexpected.
This morning as I put my boy on the school bus, I gave him extra kisses… because he looked like he needed it. It doesn’t matter how many times I reminded him that if he needs help, he can ask for it. Willy is perfectly capable of asking for help, but it’s asking for help in the right context that confuses him. I know that it will take time for him to fully grasp that concept, but you know what? I don’t care. He can take all the time he needs. Because anything worth doing for my boy, is worth doing right.
My fingers are crossed that he’ll have a good day at school today. I think the extra kisses helped. Have a good one everybody.