A little old lady in an elevator told me when I was pregnant with Alex to enjoy every moment, because in a blink they start to walk, in a blink they graduate high school, and in a blink they have families of their own. As we left the elevator, I thanked her, and thought to myself how easy that would be, he was my baby.
Having a child with special needs- especially one who wasn't diagnosed for so long- is hard, I'm not going to lie. Having a child who's smart is hard, too. One way or another you're looked at weird. Your child is different. As a mom, we encourage our children to be different, but when they're born different, most try to shelter or hide that. Why is it?
I love my kids. All three of them are so unique and so special.. They all have different strengths and weaknesses, they all have different features and different voices. Different attitudes, and different skills. I can't wait to see how the baby grows up and the little person he becomes.
But I can.
It seems that it was just a few months ago, when I held Abbie to me as an infant. She's now going into first grade. She's got a brand-new-to-teaching new teacher. She seems very sweet. I'm not bothered by the fact that she was only hired a week ago. She's still young enough, and new enough to have that passion for teaching, to not be burnt out like so many teachers we've crossed paths with, and is still excited about teaching. That excites me.
Alex has the same teacher he had during the last semester last year. This is our first full year in a self-contained ASD class. I'm excited for him, but nervous. He adores his teacher, and actually seems excited that he's going back there. I think he's more excited that his buddy Jonathan is back in his class.
This is the first year that I'm not up, literally making myself sick over worry because of his placement, since he started school.
None of my family and friends understand it. Heck, I don't even think my husband understands it. For the first time since the first day of Kindergarten, I'm excited for back to school.
But then I step back, and watch the both of them get ready. They get their shoes on, make their hair perfect, eat some breakfast, and kiss me good bye as they climb on the bus. And I stop. I remember them little, holding my hand while they drank their bottles, promising them I'd love them forever, and treasure every moment always.
Sometimes it's hard, but I think that's truly being a mom.