Cracks in the Armour: Just a l'il cheatin'

Ok, so, I warned you that I would be away from the computer for a week. And I was. Now I am back and super far behind on my blog challenge. I have to get 6 posts done, in order to catch up- wait, make that 7 posts, because now, it is officially the 29th of July. *sigh*

So, I am cheating a little in these next few posts. I am posting notes that I had written to Facebook. Now, now, before you get all up in arms about it, I really have wanted to do this for a while. I am worried that Facebook is going to do something goofy and I will lose these little notes forever. And I like them. These notes are what got me started towards blogging in the first place.

So, I am moving them here, to a more permanent place, so that I can have them forever.

So enjoy some of my thoughts from a couple of years ago. Here's hoping they are still good and stand up.

Originally posted Sunday, July 26, 2009

Just when you are ready to give up...

So, most of you know about Sebastian and what we are going through with him. We have been gluten and casien free (well, mostly free, there have been a few slips) for about 2 months now. At first, we were going gangbusters and seeing results almost overnight...literally. It was easy to stick to, and for the first time in about 7 years, I began to feel hope...hope that things might, just might be different.

This has been a bad week/month. Geoff's home now, my job is more than uncertain, I am behind on everything, from school work, to house work. We are trying to start 2 business simulataneously, and Sawyer is teething...again. Add on top of this, a new pediatrician, new orthotics, new diet, running out of supplements and money at the same time- life is rough. Not that I am complaining- it's just a simple fact.

I have been feeling low, and discouraged. I hate that feeling. Sebastian has stopped making progress. At night, I close my eyes, and try to remember how far he has come. Then I think of a little girl in the grocery store, probably 4 years younger, describing her dreams to a mother, that isn't even listening. I think about the little boy, that ran up to the group of kids in the playground and fit right in. I think about the grown man that gave me a funny look, because of the way Sebastian sounds. I think of all that, and suddenly how far we have come becomes insignificant. I am so overwhelmed with how far we need to go. I don't want to take another step. I'm tired, so very tired.

Today, I was reading my usual contigent of autism books. All of a sudden, recovery stories make me sad. I just can't read anymore. I don't want to know about the people that have pulled their kids back. Right now, I hate them...every one of them. I want to smack Jenny McCarthy's face. Not fair, but there it is.

Sebastian came down, and asked to go to Happy Rolph's. Normally, I would be thrilled. It is something new, not the routine he has memorized, and there isn't the normal fight to pry him away from whatever he is currently obsessed with. The drive is good, the fresh air helps with my funk. Walking around, it smells like manure, and french fries. That just reminds me that I have to cut vinegar, and grease from his diet. No more packaged fries, handcut or nothing.

We finish the walk, and head towards the car. I am a little surprised when Sebastian does his goofy funny run to the playground, but he had fun last time, and he has a memory for things like that. He expects it to be fun the same way, every time. Geoff follows and walks him through, showing him how to play. What comes natural to other kids is an exercise in patience for mine.

I take Sawyer to the swings, she loves them. It makes my heart a little happier to hear her laugh. I make goofy faces, to make her laugh more. Then, all of a sudden, behind me, I hear Sebastian. He's talking. Not a big deal, except...it is. He is not talking to himself, or Daddy. He is talking to another little kid.

"Hi. Who are you?"
"I'm Ben."
"Oh. Hi Ben. My name is Sebastian."
"Hi. Do you want to play?"
"No, I want to go home."

I didn't hear Ben asking Sebastian over and over what he had said, because he couldn't understand him (well, I did hear it, I chose to ignore it.) What I heard, over and over, was my autistic 7 year old boy STARTING a conversation with another boy.

It has never happened before.

Now, I believe in miracles. I am walking my path, and while it is still far, it's not so far that I can't see the end. Even if it is still just in my imagination.