I'm going to play catch up...here are a few entries that never made it to the blog...
The magic continues…Jack’s language “burst” is still a steady stream of activity. At school today, his teacher and aide both commented on how appropriately he is talking! He picked up his art project (a face on a stick) and handed it to me, saying “here you go”. Then he said to me (as I was carrying his backpack) “zip it in the pocket”. He happily hugged his teacher, saying “Bye Miss Penni” and then “Bye kids!” He even tolerated an overpowering hug from his sweet friend Laney. He also sat well during circle time AND…tah dah: rode a tricycle at school for the first time, JUST LIKE THE OTHER KIDS! Woo hoo for Jack! You go, boy! I talked to Jack’s home team ABA consultant tonight and mentioned some of the things he’s been saying. She couldn’t believe the improvement in just 3 weeks since she last saw him. She’s going to come over tomorrow to see it with her own two eyes. It sure is impressive….
Apparently a notice was going around that high chairs are for babies, because now Jack only wants to sit in a “Brown Chair” (our wooden kitchen chair). He started out wanting to sit in “daddy’s chair” but we’ve been able to appease him with a chair of his own in his usual place at the table. So now, if you peer into our kitchen window at mealtime, you’ll see the three of us, happily gathered there, each in our own big person chair. My, what will be next, a big boy bed and big kid underwear? That’s too much to think about!
Jack’s new passion is painting. Not finger painting, of course, for our little sensory guy, but it is exciting nonetheless. Picasso he may not be, but enthusiastic captures it well. He has 10 jars of paint, and loves to use them all. He has a big brush and a small paint brush, and uses them alternating and sometimes simultaneously! Amanda, his school ABA therapist, swears he made a smiley face today while painting, but it just looks too good to believe. I need to see that one with my own two eyes before I declare it an official milestone mastered. We are proud parents around here, beaming with delight as our little boy comes into his own.
Meanwhile, autism has eaten away at my soul. It has taken my easy carefree being and replaced it with a “Mother Warrior”, soapbox in hand, attitude. I feel like I am alienating my friends, and it seems an inevitable destructive path with no alternative route. My occupation has become “autistic child saver” and it has come with a price. I am racing against time, swimming upstream against modern general medicine, and am fighting desperately to keep cynicism and bitterness at bay. I am at peace with our “journey”, and know that I am not weathering this storm alone. As the old saying goes, the footprints in the sand on my journey aren’t mine….for I am being carried. This, I know for sure. Yet, amongst the autism research abstracts, continuous monitoring of Jack’s abilities and weaknesses, and national media suppression of the Truth, I grow a little more tired each day. There is less to give to the other, less immediate causes surrounding me…family, friends, hobbies, even to my husband and, honestly, to myself. I choose to blanket my spirit with other like minds…they know this battle the best and offer support in a way no other can.