Just gotta get it out!
**I want to preface this by saying that the last few weeks have been highly stressful and there has been much less sleep than usual. I'm a bit delirious and kind of just doing what I call "word vomit" in hopes that it will calm my mind. I apologize if this doesn't make sense in parts. **
I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. This has been my pattern for almost 2 weeks now. My mind begins to race when I lay down and while there is so much good going on regarding Kamden right now, there is so much that weighs heavily on my heart and mind.
It has hit me recently that we will never have a "normal" life. One part of me thinks, "What is 'normal' anyway?" Then there is the other side of me that watches my son live his daily life and that side's heart breaks a little every time I see just how different things are.
He has the biggest heart I have ever seen...but he can't control his emotions. When he sees someone else is upset, he does all he can to console them. If he's not successful, he assumes the blame and is so upset himself that it can take days to get him back to his level of "okay".
He has a fabulous memory and ability to process details...but the most basic of tasks are baffling to him. We have just recently gotten to the point that he's able to somewhat dress himself. If left to do it entirely on his own, it never happens. With some help, it takes about 20 minutes. More times than not, we still have to dress him. He made some amazing progress in school this year, but still can barely write or cut with scissors. He's going to get there...but to see where his peers are in relation is difficult at best.
He is so unbelievably friendly...but he doesn't understand how unsafe strangers can be. Actually...he doesn't believe strangers exist. We have tried so many times to explain stranger danger, and with the sweet innocence only a child can have, he smiles and says, "It's okay. S/he smiled and said what her/his name is. We are friends now!" Just this last week, I watched as he walked up to someone he'd never met in a church and just hugged on them. While this is safe (USUALLY) in a church, it strikes fear into me to know he would easily do the same regardless of where we are. When we go to a store, we still have to get two carts. One for items we are buying and one for Kamden. It may seem extreme, but I promise, in less than two minutes, he would yank his hand from mine and be running off. I can't carry him everywhere anymore...*sigh*
There is so much guilt...I constantly wonder if I'm doing what's best for him, if I could be doing more, feeling awful when I can't do more than I am, wondering if there was ANYTHING I could have done differently while I was pregnant or when he was small to have combated his autism. The logical side of me knows that I'm beating myself up over nothing justifiable, but convincing my heart is so much harder.
There is grief. It seems silly in comparison to having lost Kaidance, but I grieve all the time for Kamden. When I see a parent or child give him "that look" because he runs up and hugs or wants to give a kiss to someone he barely knows or someone who he knows well and feels close to but who doesn't understand him. When I notice the frustration of people in settings where we need to be quieter, but he is having what we call an "autistic day" and is talking loudly or hitting himself or hitting himself against me, jumping up and pacing or flapping or stimming... When I see him trying to play at the park with other kids his age and wanting to do the same things they are doing but physically is unable to do so.
There is anger. I hate to admit it, but there is a lot of anger. There's anger about not understanding why. There is anger about wanting to know why, after almost 4 years of active potty training that we haven't had it click yet. There is anger that there are times Kamden is left out, not usually by the other kids, but by the fact that he doesn't know how to interact so he simply plays along side them and not with them.
There is great fun. This last week I got to put on swimming goggles, lay on the side of the pool and dunk my face beside Kamden to show him exactly how to put his whole face in and blow bubbles I get to laugh so, so much. He finds joy in the way the dogs run through the house while they are playing; in the way that butterflies and dragonflies circle him in the backyard while he's playing. His laugh is contagious. Anyone who has been with him could attest to that fact.
He teaches me so, so much. I have learned to look at things so differently when I see them through his eyes. I'd not stopped and just watched snails or lady bugs since I was his age and forgot how fascinating and beautiful those things are. I never knew how special a rock found in a parking lot could be when it came from someone who had nothing but their love and innocence to give as a gift. I rarely paid attention to people around me in a line at the store until Kamden began to strike up conversations with them all. I'm still amazed that I can watch someone with the most sour expression leave with a smile after he tells them about the ambulance he just saw or how he actually IS Batman.
He is so, SO full of love. He can tell by just looking at me if I am having a tough day and he will crawl into my lap and rub his hand over my back and just rest his forehead against my cheek and remind me that we "all learn together" and "it's going to be okay" because he will take care of me. He still makes a beeline for any crying baby in a store to comfort them and check to make sure that they are okay. He's the first to notice if someone is missing from school or therapy or church and the first to notice when they are back. He works so, so hard and he is proud of his accomplishments.
It's exhausting. It's scary. It's rarely predictable as to how the day will go. It's hectic. It's frustrating. It's exhilarating. It's rewarding. It's not a "normal" life, but it's my life and I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't know how to live life otherwise.
If you have stuck through and read to the end, I thank you. I know it was some rambling and likely incoherent at moments, but I finally feel like I could sleep and sleep well for the first time in weeks. That is...if the cuddle 7 year old that climbed into my bed doesn't snore too loudly.
I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. This has been my pattern for almost 2 weeks now. My mind begins to race when I lay down and while there is so much good going on regarding Kamden right now, there is so much that weighs heavily on my heart and mind.
It has hit me recently that we will never have a "normal" life. One part of me thinks, "What is 'normal' anyway?" Then there is the other side of me that watches my son live his daily life and that side's heart breaks a little every time I see just how different things are.
He has the biggest heart I have ever seen...but he can't control his emotions. When he sees someone else is upset, he does all he can to console them. If he's not successful, he assumes the blame and is so upset himself that it can take days to get him back to his level of "okay".
He has a fabulous memory and ability to process details...but the most basic of tasks are baffling to him. We have just recently gotten to the point that he's able to somewhat dress himself. If left to do it entirely on his own, it never happens. With some help, it takes about 20 minutes. More times than not, we still have to dress him. He made some amazing progress in school this year, but still can barely write or cut with scissors. He's going to get there...but to see where his peers are in relation is difficult at best.
He is so unbelievably friendly...but he doesn't understand how unsafe strangers can be. Actually...he doesn't believe strangers exist. We have tried so many times to explain stranger danger, and with the sweet innocence only a child can have, he smiles and says, "It's okay. S/he smiled and said what her/his name is. We are friends now!" Just this last week, I watched as he walked up to someone he'd never met in a church and just hugged on them. While this is safe (USUALLY) in a church, it strikes fear into me to know he would easily do the same regardless of where we are. When we go to a store, we still have to get two carts. One for items we are buying and one for Kamden. It may seem extreme, but I promise, in less than two minutes, he would yank his hand from mine and be running off. I can't carry him everywhere anymore...*sigh*
There is so much guilt...I constantly wonder if I'm doing what's best for him, if I could be doing more, feeling awful when I can't do more than I am, wondering if there was ANYTHING I could have done differently while I was pregnant or when he was small to have combated his autism. The logical side of me knows that I'm beating myself up over nothing justifiable, but convincing my heart is so much harder.
There is grief. It seems silly in comparison to having lost Kaidance, but I grieve all the time for Kamden. When I see a parent or child give him "that look" because he runs up and hugs or wants to give a kiss to someone he barely knows or someone who he knows well and feels close to but who doesn't understand him. When I notice the frustration of people in settings where we need to be quieter, but he is having what we call an "autistic day" and is talking loudly or hitting himself or hitting himself against me, jumping up and pacing or flapping or stimming... When I see him trying to play at the park with other kids his age and wanting to do the same things they are doing but physically is unable to do so.
There is anger. I hate to admit it, but there is a lot of anger. There's anger about not understanding why. There is anger about wanting to know why, after almost 4 years of active potty training that we haven't had it click yet. There is anger that there are times Kamden is left out, not usually by the other kids, but by the fact that he doesn't know how to interact so he simply plays along side them and not with them.
There is great fun. This last week I got to put on swimming goggles, lay on the side of the pool and dunk my face beside Kamden to show him exactly how to put his whole face in and blow bubbles I get to laugh so, so much. He finds joy in the way the dogs run through the house while they are playing; in the way that butterflies and dragonflies circle him in the backyard while he's playing. His laugh is contagious. Anyone who has been with him could attest to that fact.
He teaches me so, so much. I have learned to look at things so differently when I see them through his eyes. I'd not stopped and just watched snails or lady bugs since I was his age and forgot how fascinating and beautiful those things are. I never knew how special a rock found in a parking lot could be when it came from someone who had nothing but their love and innocence to give as a gift. I rarely paid attention to people around me in a line at the store until Kamden began to strike up conversations with them all. I'm still amazed that I can watch someone with the most sour expression leave with a smile after he tells them about the ambulance he just saw or how he actually IS Batman.
He is so, SO full of love. He can tell by just looking at me if I am having a tough day and he will crawl into my lap and rub his hand over my back and just rest his forehead against my cheek and remind me that we "all learn together" and "it's going to be okay" because he will take care of me. He still makes a beeline for any crying baby in a store to comfort them and check to make sure that they are okay. He's the first to notice if someone is missing from school or therapy or church and the first to notice when they are back. He works so, so hard and he is proud of his accomplishments.
It's exhausting. It's scary. It's rarely predictable as to how the day will go. It's hectic. It's frustrating. It's exhilarating. It's rewarding. It's not a "normal" life, but it's my life and I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't know how to live life otherwise.
If you have stuck through and read to the end, I thank you. I know it was some rambling and likely incoherent at moments, but I finally feel like I could sleep and sleep well for the first time in weeks. That is...if the cuddle 7 year old that climbed into my bed doesn't snore too loudly.
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