Just Today

Tonight I decided I was tired of being mommy. Tired of answering questions, "Mommy, what are we going to eat? When can we go fishing? Why is there bird poop on your car? Why can't I play with the water hose? Why do I have to take a shower? Why can't I sleep with you?" Tired of the crying because they can't sleep with me, because they're grounded, because they can't have another cup of milk. Tired of not being listened to, tired of being ignored, tired of being mean, tired of giving baths, tired of pretending that made-up jokes are hilarious...just plain tired.

But then I stop....when the questions, the jokes, the crying all stopped... and I thought tonight about 7 years ago. When I couldn't complain about any of that. When I didn't have anyone TO ignore me. When I didn't have anyone to tell me silly jokes that made NO sense. When I didn't have anyone to teach. When I had no one who wanted to cuddle and be my "snugglebug". When I had no one to love so much that I would sacrifice a few minutes of my life and be the bad guy.

So now I'm stopping. And not feeling bad about feeling tired...because who doesn't? But how many of us take the time to stop and realize how great tired can be?

The testing day arrived. I had actually forgotten about it, put my concerns behind me, allowed Milo just to "be". And then the day arrived, and I tried to remember why we were going. We met with the team of experts who began questioning me about my concerns. "I'm not sure anymore." "Well, things are better." "I don't want to waste your time." These were my answers that kept coming out of my mouth...while Milo hid under my chair with his blanket over his head for 30 minutes. It became obvious, through no fault of my own, why we were there. While 2 of the therapists laid on the floor behind me trying to coax Milo out of his comfort zone, I began to relax...and I began to talk about our life. Our life that had become normal and "okay". One that I had accepted. I knew that Milo was not autistic, and I was pretty comfortable saying I didn't think he had Asberger's. So what was it? What was it that made my mommy instinct tell me I needed to keep going? That my almost 4 year old was not comfortable in his own skin? And then the psychologist said, "Imagine your skin crawling all the time. Imagine your ears burning every time you heard a noise. Think of your eyes being so sensitive every time there was a light that was different than the light before. Now imagine being 3 years old and not having the language skills to communicate that." And THEN I felt what my son has been feeling. For a second, I felt all his frustrations. And it was heartbreaking. As adults we overcompensate all the time for pain or discomfort that we feel...we overeat, we lash out at others, we cry, we pray, we drink, we smoke, we talk with friends/family. We COPE the best way we can. But to physically feel uncomfortable and anxious with anything that is not a daily routine at the age of 3 (when there is a language/speech delay as well), what other way to cope than to act out, to talk about things incessantly, to run into inanimate objects as hard as you can? What other outlet could he possibly have? So, while I am so thankful and blessed to have a son who is healthy, who's mind is 101% capable of functioning in a normal fashion, who can show me he loves me and know I love him back, this journey has opened my eyes and my mind and my heart to the many mothers who will never have that. And it's so incredibly painful. I felt just a beginning of their pain a year ago when Milo was much different, much more reserved, much more detached. So I'm lucky. And I'm blessed. We will begin several different types of therapies on a weekly basis. And I believe we will get through this without medication. That is the goal, anyway. Thank you to everyone who has prayed for us, who has given me comfort and advice. I still need it! But now I can move forward knowing that professionally speaking we know what we're dealing with. And that's all I wanted.

Why we'll be okay...

After the past counseling session last week, and the 20 minute pre-evaluation we had today via phone - this is why I know we will be okay. Question after question was asked today...very specific questions relating to, I'm sure, a plethera of disorders. There was no feedback based on my answers, so the questions contined and I began to question what our life has REALLY been like the last 3 1/2 years we've been blessed with Milo. The "things" that I didn't realize were "things" were coming to light. To paraphrase: are there food/eating issues? yes. does Milo spin in circles? yes. does Milo have his own language (jibber jabber)? yes. is Milo intolerant to pain? yes. is he sensitive to sounds? yes. And the list goes on and on and on. So tonight, as I watch Milo spin in circles 5, 6, 7 times throughout the evening...I realize maybe he's been doing this for a while. Maybe I don't notice just how often he soothes himself by spinning. Maybe I don't realize he's soothing himself, because he doesn't act as though he needs soothing. As I listen to Milo say a fragmented sentence followed by "bcha bcha bcha bcha bcha bcha" several times throughout the evening, I realize how much more aware I am now of these "things". But this is why I know we'll be okay. This is our life. This is what we have grown accustomed to. This is our life that we consider "normal". To an extent, of course, considering I have known there was "something" for a while. Our abnormal life is normal to us...it's normal to Milo. And this is why we'll be okay. So if there's a label placed upon my son's amazing traits...we will be okay. Because we have been for 3 1/2 years now. I may get frustrated and cry sometimes. I may be exhausted all the time. But he is happy. For now, he is happy. And so I guess that means that we've been doing an okay job of being okay.

Progress...

My Milo...my monkey Milo. We are starting a process with Milo. We attended a counselling session yesterday for an hour and a half. About midway through the session, the counsellor began to ask specific questions relating to Asberger's syndrome. My hands began to sweat and I felt my throat swell and my eyes well up with tears. If you know me at all, you know I have always felt there was "something" with Milo. There was always something just a little off...maybe only something a mother would know. I'm not sure. But I have known since he was 1 that Milo was a special kind of special. As the session continued, Milo stayed in rare form (which for him is normal). He was his perfectly normal crazy awkward self. At the end of the session, the counsellor referred us to an Autism testing center. I don't know what will come of all this. I don't know if Milo has Asberger's. I know I do not want my child on medicine...I don't want them to take away his "specialness". But I need to know how to be a mommy to him. So whatever diagnosis they give him...whether it has a name or not...I just need to know. His life will be so much GREATER when we can all adjust our lives to his needs. I would like to ask for prayer. Pray for Milo to continue being a wonderful little boy. Pray for Isaac to continue to have patience. And pray for Kary and I to accept whatever God has in store for us and for Milo.

My Milo

I love my little 3 year old. His personality is larger than life. He has a joy that is infectious. I am envious of his enthusiasm for EVERYTHING. When I come pick him up from daycare, he tells me "Mommy, I miss you all day." or, "Mommy, I love you the most." He wants butterfly kisses and eskimo kisses and big kisses and big hugs. Everything is so BIG to Milo. He is the extreme 3 year old. When he colors, he picks the brightest colors he can find and colors an entire picture one color. When we sing the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme song, he sings (yells) it the loudest. If we are pretending to fish in our yard, he will find the biggest stick and tell me it's his fish he caught. He loves being tickled until he can't breathe. Milo could drink milk all day long. He could eat butter and ranch and ketchup out of a bowl. There is no in-between smile with Milo. It's the cheesiest, widest grin you could ask for. This is such a small portrait of my Milo. But these are the things that I love...and that I try to remember when his "bigness" is overwhelming to me. 

He's Got the Whole World in His Hands

Isaac asked me at dinner how God's little tiny hands could hold the whole huge world. I told him that because he's God he can do anything. He then asked why God made tornadoes and storms. In lieu of delving into a theological discussion with my 5 year old over Breadeaux cheese pizza, I decided to go the safer route...literally. I told him that God just protects us during those times. But Isaac didn't stop there...he asked why God, if he was so powerful, couldn't just stop the tornadoes. Well... The question we've all asked, and here it was phrased by a 5 year old. I don't know. I don't know why God doesn't just stop bad things from happening. So I'll concentrate more on what He does for us when they DO happen. Because I've had a lot of bad...and I've created most of it. But the 2 boys sitting at my table tonight are the direct result of what God can do for us if we are willing to have faith and believe in what we know is right. I don't deserve this goodness...but I'm so thankful for God's tiny little hands that hold me everyday.

Tree Climbing

Isaac's first tree climbing experience...with the help of some metal pegs that daddy inserted into the tree. And the entire time he was climbing and we were cheering, I just knew he was going to fall and break his arm. Isn't that how every kid breaks their arm when they're little?