Help Me To Remember This Too

Last fall I wrote a post, Help Me To Remember.  I wrote it during a very, very difficult and trying period.  Upon rereading this post I am immediately taken back to the stress of that time, although it was just short months ago, it feels like an eternity ago  We were having a rough go, we had just moved house, which was humongously stressful to our little man.

But now, some months later, we are, in a word, settled.  We are floating on the tranquil ocean of routine.  We great each day knowing what to expect, what`s to come.  Home is a peaceful, enjoyable place to be.

Our boy surrounds himself with his art.  He skips in and out from the backyard, freshly revealed since the winter snow.  He loses himself in his interests,  his little sister is quickly growing into a cherished playmate, he has discovered the computer... and even more amazingly, the cat has decided that he loves him back!   

Our boy is joyful. Our boy is joy. So often these days his sweet little face beams, his whole body jolts with excitement.  We look at him and just know we are doing right.    His differences feel more like a source of joy and pride than a source of stress.

And I need to remember this too.  This feeling that all is right with the world.  This feeling of truly enjoying our days.  Help me to remember each sweet day, each broad smile, every day that things just feel good.  Because these are the days that will carry us through the harder times.  These days are the ultimate goal for us...a happy boy and the unmistakeable feeling that we are serving him well. 

Going Up

If I had to use an analogy for parenting a child with autism, I'd compare it to a creaky staircase.

Chances are, if you've got a creaky staircase, along with the creaks, your staircase has some beautiful features, intricate woodwork, tonnes of character...in short, it's well worth a few squeaky treads.

Over time, with a little practice you learn to sidestep some of the louder squeaks in your travels, with experience, this doesn't even seem like work, you catch yourseld deftly dancing upwards, a little to the left or a little to the right with hardly a thought.  There's even been a few times you found yourself stumbling, but luckily you have that lovely railing to lend you support.

You even decide that a lot of repairs aren't all that necessary.  There's something rather fetching about some of these little creaks and groans, they've grown on you, it's become impossible to seperate them from the beauty of that stiarcase.  You no longer want to.  They are your stairs after all.

You probably have friends who bought houses about the same time as you.  Some of these homes have sleek modern staircases.  Upon visiting them you often marvel at their efficiency, and how easily you can make your way up and down.  But you can't help but feel that they're missing something, perhaps a little too mainstream for your taste.

The great thing about your staircase is that its charm has become as much a part of your travels as the journey itself.  A journey that always gets you where you need to go, even with a few obstacles along the way, a journey that has somehow taught you how to dance... and a journey that is always going up.

Lost

On Saturday, my little family released colourful baloons.

That night, we let a blue light shine over our door.

I posted relevant links of facebook, and changed my profile pic to the World Autism Awareness Day symbol.

But none of these actions helped to stop a small 3 year old boy in Quebec, with autism, from wandering off.  Or help people know how to find a child who cannot cry for help.

The ground search has just been called off for sweet little Adam.

And my heart screams.... for another little boy lost. 

Despite the passage of time, let's all continue a vigil of hope, and pray for the miracle of his safety.

World Autism Awareness Day 2011

Today marks World Autism Awareness Day.  Last year I marked the day with thanks,  today I will mark the day with a wishlist....

It's my wish that a day will come that the effect autism has on families is recognized by those who are in positions to adopt policies for change.

That someday when a child decides to throw a meltdown in public, that others will be more compassionate, maybe even helpful.

That families feel that they have valid options for intervention.

That waitlists for vital services dissapear.

That autism families will stop becomming the target of a huge marketing machine.

That the telltale signs of autism will be known by all...

That when a new family gets a diagnosis, the fear is less and the hope is more.

Thick skins for all.

Community.

That people will notice our blue lightbulbs, colorful balloons and puzzle piece ribbons today, and take time to ask what they mean.

And lastly an abundance of blessings, love, support and tolerance for my little boy, and all the other children on the autism spectrum.  That you all continue to shine, and amaze us with your beautiful, unique way in this world.