The Burden I Carry Is Light...

It's been a while since I posted of much other than the sweet happenings of our little life. And much, oh so much, of it is sweet. I am enjoying watching the bond grow stronger and stronger between our two boys and I thank God every day for giving me a heavy heart for a second child and for the strength to forge ahead amidst the fear. Tyler is a huge blessing to Jack, and vice versa. They spend many hours in the day together just playing and laughing. They look for each other as soon as they wake each day. And I am happy.

Many days, I must admit, I am blessed to have such a feeling of normalcy within our home. Jack is doing amazingly well. Dare I admit that some days I barely remember that he has autism? It is true. And for this I am also happy beyond measure.

And maybe that is why, on days like today, it catches me off guard a bit, when the autism rears its head and punches me in the gut. A phone call from my parents, keeping the kids overnite, as Mom shares that Jack was uncharacteristically "not himself" and threw a toy at their entertainment center with, seemingly, no reason. He was difficult to engage at times and was, overall, just 'off' for part of the stay. And I'm reeling from the blow.

Then a reminder that tomorrow starts an entirely new program at church for Sunday School. 3 grades (1st - 3rd) together all summer for a Scripture Memory type class along with lots of changes to come on Wed. nights (including a Drama program - drama? Could he even DO drama?) and for the forseeable future...and again, I'm hurled back into our modified life. I have to find someone to attend with him at least for a few weeks (it will be me)...there will be a lot of changes, no warning, I fear the class will be way over his head...and I'm not prepared. What if he can't handle it? There is no where else for him to go...and just like that, I'm back to where I've been so often before. Hello, darkness, my old friend...

In reality, the burden that I carry is light these days. And for that I am grateful. Not happy, but grateful. I'm not a whiner, I do not wish for a life that I cannot have, and I know that my lot in life in general and in specific could be so different than it is. But when it sneaks up behind me and whacks me in my knees, I wish, just for a minute, to blink and have our version of "normal" back, whatever that is. More and more, we deviate just for a minute or two or three, and then back to our normal it goes for a spell. I'm hoping those stretches will continue to get longer and longer as the whacking in the knees never feels good.

I love this boy, and his little brother, more than life itself. Here's one of a million reasons why...how could you not love a boy who loves icing off the beater???