Roller Coaster

You know that movie, Parenthood? The one with Steve Martin, etal, about how life is like a roller coaster with a series of ups and downs? Yup, I get it now. Up, down, up, down. It seems like we get more of our fair share around here!

This week was difficult for us. Ian wasn't feeling well, then Luke had some bowel issues (a common side effect of his anxiety). Darling had a stressful couple of weeks at work. Ever since his promotion a few weeks ago (more money, but increased hours) he has been moody, distant and generally miserable and unavailable. It all came to a head on Wednesday.

Darling heard yet another "scare the pants off of parents" report about Autism on the radio so he called me in a tizzy as soon as he got in. Mind you, it was less than ten minutes before the kids had to be on the bus to go to camp for the day. I was running around like a chicken with no head. Darling started in on how he has had it at work, he wants me to look into new schools for Bugaboo, we need to move, yadda, yadda, yadda. Talk about ripping the carpet out from under out feet! I mean, we just got settled here, the kids are FINALLY happy, finally getting the services they need, and he wants to MOVE? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FREAKIN' MIND???? Needless to say, the conversation did not go well. When he arrived home that evening, we ate dinner in stoney silence and you could cut the tension with a knife. We put the boys to bed and talked.

Darling is under pressure at work, but what we finally arrived at (after many questions) is that he is depressed. He did not say he was depressed, but after he told me how he doesn't understand why he is happy, he doesn't want to get out of bed in the morning, he has so much to be thankful for and can't even appreciate it, it all made sense. Then the real truth came out. My husband has been strangely calm and accepting about the boys and their diagnoses. It finally hit him. Our kids have some significant challenges. Yes, they can reach their potential with work, work, WORK. But I think it finally dawned on him that there is a chance Ian may never talk. There is a chance that he won't live independently. And while I want to believe that he will be a functioning adult, we have to be prepared for the alternative. So Darling was stressing about it.

It is very frustrating that our beautiful gift-from-God cannot speak. He refuses to communicate. He has good affect with us and is loving and affectionate. He even plays little "tricks" or "jokes" on us, and smiles and laughs. A more pleasant child I have never met. But we've never heard his voice call us "mama" or "Dada". He has never said "I love you." He hasn't sung his ABCs. He barely eats, holds his ears in public when there is crowd noise and screeches in places with high ceilings to hear his voice echo. We wonder if we will ever know what it is like to see him write his name or to play a board game with him. We don't know if he will ever learn to ride his bike. The majority of children with his type of autism are pretty much written off by society, viewed as a drain. Treated like caged monkeys in low-paying, low-functioning jobs. Expected to become janitors or dishwashers.

We want so much more for him, not because of the lack of prestige in those positions, but because we know how intelligent he is. We know he has a smile that lights up the room and causes little old ladies to comment on what a beautiful little boy he is. We know that he is motivated, strong-willed and energetic. We know how much he can focus when he really wants to, playing with something for over two hours. I've never seen another little boy play with things the way he does.

I keep praying for all of this to be revealed to me. I want to know what I am supposed to be doing. I need to know how I can help him, I am being as patient as I can possibly be. I know the answers will come soon but at the same time I am exhausted from playing damage control around here. There are days where I feel like the luckiest woman alive, with two beautiful and happy boys, a fabulous husband who works twelve hour days so I can stay home with my boys, a cozy home and a spoiled doggie. I'm just waiting for the next "up" on the roller coaster, we sure could use it!

(Please don't view this as a "feeling sorry for myself" post, for I certainly do not feel sorry for myself. I know no other life, this is all NORMAL for me. It is just difficult to see other children the same age as mine who are doing so much more...)