Pieces of the puzzle.

Last week was my baby’s birthday, I say that lightly because he turned six. He’s not ok with being six, he wanted to stay five forever- who wouldn’t right? He decided at his birthday party he would turn six, he is not getting any older than Seven though- apparently that is where the line is drawn.

The huge thing is that we’ve made it six years, it may not seem like a lot or a big deal to many people, but it is to me. It’s been him and I for six years, sometimes people step up and help but mostly it’s him and I.

He never wants to grow up, he wants to stay with me forever, he legit doesn’t want to ever become a man or have me grow any older. I bought him the I’ll love you forever book because maybe it would show to him that he will always be my baby no matter what doesn’t matter if I am 31 or 89.

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I remember being terrified and pregnant, funny I have spent chunks of time, terrified with this child. At first, it was because I didn’t have a clue how I was going to raise a baby alone while raising a child and keeping a home in order. However, I did it. I sold all my personal belongings except for my tv, couch, and bed to be able to buy things that he needed as a baby, I had a few angels in disguise as people who dropped off diapers and second-hand clothing.

When he was 2ish and we spent several hours in the doctor’s office, pushing for referrals, pushing for answers. Him sitting on my lap or trying to escape and run away- blabbing about nothing in his own language. Myself- sitting there hoping this time that the damn Dr. would listen to me, that I wasn’t being a paranoid mother, I wasn’t being ridiculous, that something was different about my child that he needed further help. Wishing I could understand what he was blabbering about and read his precious mind, praying he wouldn’t take off again and wondering if I remembered all his favorite things in my bag so that he wouldn’t have an epic meltdown that could end us both.

When he was around 3-3.5 and he was diagnosed with Autism and I couldn’t grasp that it wasn’t my fault from the way he was acting. I sure did blame myself that this must be my fault, the thing with the diagnosis is they tell you, hand you a Giant binder filled with info and send you on your way with a list of appointments for therapy. It is one of the heaviest things I have had to deal with, the family was of little help, friends didn’t understand, the biggest way to feel so fucking alone? Single mom handling a diagnosis, I mean with the diagnosis you have a better chance of resources and help; in those weeks when it is fresh, you grieve. He is high functioning and I know I am lucky compared to others, I wouldn’t change the way he is at all, but you just grieve for the child you thought they would be, the printed letter stating the diagnosis catches you off guard, breathless and crying again.

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Then you spend a year in therapy prior to school starting, every week either speech or Occupational therapy, social workers, forms, meetings. Setting up everything for school to start, he was a runner, he still can be but then he was for no reason, nothing I could understand he would just up and run. So, I sat in the meeting room with therapists, teachers, resource people fucking terrified that they would lose my child, how the fuck were these people going to take care of my baby when he could flip in an instant? How the fuck were they going to keep him safe from running away? It worked out but that meeting and the months leading up to school- scared the fucking shit out of me.

I know that I blog about inspiration, motivation, fitness, health and well parenting, sometimes I just ramble, I’ve been told I am too raw, too much, too much swearing. Isn’t that life though for some people? They are all over the place, they have so much going on that they must talk about everything, they have the mouth of a sailor and a heart too big for their own fucking good.

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4 was the age he finally said he loved me, he found a reason, a benefit in telling me, those 2 years waiting? Were hard af.

5 was the age he finally potty trained, mid to late five but hey I am just fucking happy that diapers aren’t on my list of things to buy, that there aren’t accidents and I won’t be changing any diapers again until I have grandchildren. FUCK YES. When I got pregnant with him, his brother was just finishing potty training, I had approximately 9 months free of diapers and than had 5 years of diapers, almost 10 straight years, and I understand that many people have diapers for a long time but fucking right I am happy that’s not a thing anymore.

6 is the age of brand new struggles, things will roll up and we’ll adjust we will bend and move in ways that make sense to him. I’m doing my best to get him ready for grade one, he doesn’t wanna go, I’ve expressed I am also scared to go into my second year of college, but we are tough, so we can brave the storm and do it together.

 

This past weekend was his birthday party, he wanted a cake that had a river, a throne for King Louie to sit on and a desert. I did my best to accommodate all that he wanted. Saturday, I heard the words “When are the humans coming?” approximately 300 times in 10 hours. He’s been in a repeating kick, there is a word for it in the autism community and I would generally google this, but I also have a booming headache.

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We hit 3 meltdowns over the day, one because the humans were not coming quick enough for his liking, as well we had several cancels, one that he was looking forward to. Kisses and cuddles from mommy on the kitchen floor helped a bit, along with a kickass fitness family a country away sent messages via the internet which made him smile.

Another was a sensory meltdown that one day I hope we will pass through and see the other side, but until then I will keep buying and making him shirts because he can’t have wet clothing without losing a gasket.

 

The last came after everyone left, it was the end, it was overstimulation at best, it was a cuddle with mommy again until it was safe to go to sleep.

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I have no fucking clue what the next years will bring, I know that we will survive them, we will keep pushing forward, because as hard as it gets, as hard as the days seem to get sometimes? We have each other, we always do and always will, we have the giggles and silly things, I have the magic of watching his innocence and how he doesn’t give a fuck what people think which in life? Is really a master tool.

 

Mama’s everywhere- I see you

Keep doing the best you got for your kiddo’s

With the intent of your best, you will never steer wrong.

Be The Inspiration

Self-love~ Health~ Change

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