By Tracy M
Hi everyone. I’ve been so AWOL I bet we have readers who don’t even know who I am. I need to apologize to my co-bloggers and give them some big loves (not Big Love) for being so kind and so forgiving of my utter laziness and slackerishness. Oh yes, that is a word. At least in the Blogger’s Unabridged Dictionary it is.
Abby turned three yesterday. Holy cow, how did that happen? My youngest child is now old enough to talk back and pee in the potty. I said she’s old enough, I did not say she is actually DOING it- but that’s the goal for this upcoming week. Usually when I have a three-year old I also have a one-year old. I don’t even know what to do with myself. Well, that’s not entirely true…
Beanie is continuing on with the AIM program for Autistic kids for Kindergarten. After a few days to process that, I’m fine now, but at first I think I was mourning a little bit. It may be taboo to say, but with an Autistic child, I think you may have to go through a period of grief. It took me a while to come to grips with the fact this is not something that can be “fixed”. He goes to this special, awesome school, and they’re helping him tremendously, and I suppose I kind of thought they would give him therapy for the year, then he would be fine and ready for Kindergarten. When I met with his “Educational Team” and they told me they would be keeping in the AIM program for Kindergarten I struggled with wanting to cry “But wait! I thought you guys were going to make him OK…”
Suffice it to say, he is more than OK. He is doing fantastic in the program and we are blessed to have it. I understand now that this review will happen every year, as we and the Team decide how best to serve him for the next year. Autism doesn’t go away. It doesn’t get cured. It’s just how my son is made. And I’m going through the process of being OK with that.
Jeffrey is almost 8 now, and has the sassy mouth to prove it. Does anyone else have a sassy 8-year old? Oh my, he’s too big for his britches lately. I can see him moving from little-boyhood to being more of a young man, even at eight. He is aware of himself and how others perceive him more than ever before. Once upon a time, I thought 8 might be too young to be baptized (adult convert here, for those not in-the-know) but now that I actually HAVE and 8-year old, I think it’s probably just right. Go figure.
Sixteen months of unemployment carries on. *sigh* We are out of funds, and officially in the free-fall mode. Hooray! *gulp* Somehow, I still hold onto the belief that all will be well. No idea how that will happen, but I do hold tight. Anyone want a painting or a diaper bag? My previous flakiness will be railroaded by the desire to make my mortgage payment for May. *gulp*
And me… well, I’ve been trying to figure out how to be a good wife to an unemployed man. It’s different, you know. It’s been a trial unlike anything I could ever have imagined. I also know that more good will come of this than I can imagine as well. Still waiting on that though….
Much like The Wiz, prayers are very appreciated.
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