I wasn't planning on blogging again this early. But, seeing as how this blog will be a journal of our family, there probably will be spur of the moment posts born of frustration, sadness, fatigue, joy...and probably even anger. So. For the following post, back story is coming. I'm just posting in the moment.
See, my son is autistic.
This is very hard sometimes. He's come a long way. In many ways he's a delightful, sharp little boy.
But he's still autistic. One of the worst things about autism is how it interferes with communication. He's three years old, and very bright...but almost too bright. Why?
Because he knows he can't tell me what's hurting him, I think. Somehow, that's worse. To be smart enough to know what's missing. That, and he's a three year old with the emotional range and control of a one year old.
This is also hard. It makes me fear that emotionally he'll always be that way, and I don't know what I'm afraid of most: the toll it'll take on him...
No need to know the particulars. He's calmed down now, but what should be a normal event that might make any three year old a little sad made him distraught this morning, and - not to make a mountain out of nothing - but it always hurts me to see him like this. Makes me think things will never get better.
Probably what makes it harder is knowing he's sad because he misses us, and has to spend all day at a special school. He's three. We put him on a school bus in a car seat. He rides a bus to school, which lasts all day, runs five days a week...with no naps. For a three year old.
We've done this for over a year. Since he was two. A two/three year old should be at home, running and playing, not having to worry about school yet.
That's hard, also.
Anyway. He's settled down, and I need to get him dressed and fed. His little crisis has passed.
I just wish ours would.