To The Point Of Monday
Our autism journey

“Wanna milk”, Owen said, after he woke up the second time. He had gotten into bed with sometime in the middle of the night. I was too tired to even look at the clock. He struggled for a bit to find a comfortable spot, but went back to sleep pretty quickly. The second thing, the second glorious thing he said, “wanna go to the baffroom let’s go to the baffroom then we get bubbles”. Wait, what, I wanted to hear it again. I knew he wouldn’t repeat it for me. He’s been saying it all more, and more lately, but this, these words were all new when he first wakes up. Glorious words, but let’s see the action I thought. I was excited, beyond, beyond excited, but I was hoping for the next steps. So we got up. This in itself causing me so much anxiety because, one, I have to make sure my glasses are out on my face right away, and two, I must be dressed properly for sitting in my living room. That means I have to have shorts on, and a T-shirt. Plus, his new thing is to check out my right leg, the bigger one from hemihypertrophy. The one that I’ve always been conscious about. He walks up to me grinning at my leg, bending down towards it, looking at the scars from my surgery so long ago. I have to say this upsets me, and excites me all in one moment. He can’t explain why he looks at it like that, but it’s what makes me who I am. There is this wild acceptance that has to come with our own body imagine, that has taken me years to even halfway accept, and then to have my own son, who doesn’t even understand the complexity of what his actions are doing to me, stand there looking at me, and he can’t even explain what makes it all so interesting to him. He smiles the whole time he is looking at it, sometimes even embracing it. I try to talk to him about it, explain it to him, that it is different, my whole body is, but I’m not even sure that is what fascinates him about it. His words mean so much to me, because I want to know what he thinks of his world around him. One day I hope he can tell me about my leg. Sweatpants season is upon us. I wonder how he will handle that. But the next steps were important. He actually walked from the bedroom to the bathroom, ready to go, and went. I want to shout victory from the rooftops. We made it to the finish line. He still wears a diaper, but that moment is closing in, where it will be a thing of the past. Life is interesting, life is what you make it, and life can be surprising, but one thing about life is it is never boring. I look at my leg, and it doesn’t define me, but it has shaped me. Change the mold if you are not happy with your life, keep finding what makes you happy, and set your plan in motion. Smiles to all and donut daze!
