The Sweet Moments

Grace is another word for the sweet moments of motherhood.  I don't want to be one of those church-word writers, though, so I'll stick with "the sweet moments."  Everyone gets that.

With Josh gone, I'm super susceptible to picking up new obsessions (helllooo lonely, wandering mind!), and it seems that Asperger's is quickly consuming me.  Watching E interact now that I have this label to slap on him, seeing if it really sticks.  Mostly I'm seeing that it makes everything about him *finally* make sense.  And I finally don't feel guilt for making exceptions for him.  His brain truly is different, and I can soften some harsh edges of the world for him until he can learn how to cope.  That's why I'm a stay-at-home mom, right?  To teach and train and get them ready to face all of life?

Anyway, yesterday I was lamenting in the shower for our middle child.  Poor, sweet, wild Z, growing up without a typical big brother.  He's growing up with a role model who does things a little strangely sometimes, who refuses to talk about anything he's not interested in. That hurts my heart.  I don't want any of my kids to suffer, and I definitely don't want them to suffer because of each other.

Then I remember that E is leaving the athletic world wide open for Z to dominate.  Z will have his moments to shine, and like a typical middle child, he'd likely develop rich friendships outside of our family, Asperger's or not.

As I was talking myself through this and other things, I looked over at the boys who had stuffed themselves in a recliner that just barely held them both. Z had his arm's wrapped around E's middle, and said, "E-tan. Bess bruddah evah."

The sweet moments.

Then today, I rounded up the brood for E's OT session.  In the waiting area, I met yet another amazing family.  A gangly boy bounded through the doorway.  "HELLO!!"  His tired-looking mom in an Autism Awareness shirt and 7-ish-year-old little sister followed.  He asked her, about us, very loudly, "Are they friends???"  She said yes, and he asked me,

"What's your baby's name?"
-"M---"
"M---?  Great! Her nickname is McStuffins."

Totally endearing. His mom told me they'd been going there for *five* years now, that her son had autism, and her daughter was on her second round of OT, just to work on some motor skills.  You know, when you already live there, might as well sign all the kids up!  I totally get it.

(I absolutely love the therapy community.  No strange looks.  Familes full of the tired and broken, worn out by circumstances you can only try to manage but never magic-wand fix.  Parents who sit down with a sigh, grateful for someone else to push their kids' limits while they breathe and stare.  Where there are no mean looks, just a lot of howling, wild, and often over-joyed children.  I hate saying it, but it's better than church.  It actually *is* church.  Soul-feeding, encouraging, accepting.)

Anyway, Autism's sister was talking about visiting her grandma in Alabama, and Z got really excited.  "Aaallabaamaa! Aaallaaabaamaa" He loves saying that state.  Autism's mom laughed  (Just out of curiosity, I asked Z what his favorite state was.  He said, "Tekas.") and then he told her his name was "Saturn's ring."  The autistic boy perked right up.  "Saturn? I LOVE Saturn!!"    His mom laughed, said Z was really smart; I explained that he learns stuff from his brother, and she nodded.  Her son has four obsessions (space, trains, carnivorous plants and something else) and her daughter knows way more about those things than anyone should because it's all he will talk about.

My heart exploded.  Yes.  She gets it.  And as I watched her daughter, I noted that she looked completely content, happy.  She played well and talked normally with her brother, like nothing was lacking in their relationship.  They were best friends. It was obvious.  Nothing was lacking.

The sweet moments-- those filled with so much undeserved goodness.  I am so, so grateful for these kids God gave me.  Nothing is lacking.  Normal is just a dryer setting.

(And it's a good thing that God shows up all the time around here.  E just locked Z out of their room in the middle of Quiet Hour.  Ugh.  It's too bad there's no manual I could look in to know how to rightly handle situations like that.  Instead, I'll just have to run with my full heart into the chaos and try to make the best of it.  With a space episode by the "Bubble Buckies."  Hahaha!)