Batter up!

Three sweaty boys standing in a park.  Each boy with his own baseball bat and ball.  Snow-covered mountains towering in the background.  A sense of playfulness and fun filled the air.  Whose family is this?  I found myself in awe of the simplicity of the moment, of how normal this was.  For the first time, I really felt like the mom of three boys - three typical boys.  For this brief moment, each boy was acting like their respective ages.  Cheeks flushed red from their heart-pumping activity, I drank in this moment and enjoyed it as the blessing it was.  I knew that there would be plenty of moments later to remind me that things aren't usually "normal" in our family but I wasn't going to let this moment of pure pleasure slip by without my noticing. 

A few days ago, I was feeling altogether different.  I was struck yet again with how challenging it is to raise a child with autism, how unpredictable it can be and how little I still understand.  At one point, I was almost paralyzed with a desire to give up.  In my poor frame of mind, I found myself wondering what the point was of all the therapies, the work we were doing if we kept finding ourselves back in the same place yet again.  Was I fooling myself into thinking that I could really help him, that he would ever truly adopt healthier behaviors?  Instead of feeling inadequate which is a common feeling I have, I felt an even more dangerous feeling which was resignation. 

Contrasting my low feelings of a few days ago with the contentment I felt this weekend is indicative of the emotional roller coaster one rides while raising a child with special needs.  What is most compelling though is that during these two points in time my son's behavior was relatively consistent.  My perception of his behaviors was what was vastly different.  Without knowing it, my son is teaching me how important it is to still my thoughts, particularly when I'm feeling distraught, and to challenge how I'm perceiving things.  Although I may not be able to help my son in every way that I would hope, I know that I will be a better parent to him if I can accept him for where he is now and if I try to avoid judging my parenting abilities or his less desirable behaviors negatively.

As my Mammaw would tell my mom as a child, things are never as good or as bad as they seem.  Perhaps this was her way of saying that we need to be aware that our experiences are more complex than just the two extremes of good or bad.  Perhaps she was suggesting that we should find peace with all situations and not be swayed by our perception of events.  I will never know but I will say that, although the happiness we felt as we played together was only a brief moment which was then followed by other moments that weren't as blissful, that one moment when I sat back and watched my sweet, sweaty babies loving life was definitely as good as it seemed.