Unexpectedly expected answers.

"I have no doubt that he is on the autism spectrum. Are you available to meet with the social worker today? I know we've been in here a long time, but the social worker will be able to direct you to enroll him as soon as possible in a special needs preschool and start ABA therapy."

It is so weird how this thing that I have known in my heart, in my mom-gut, was suddenly A Thing. An Actual Thing. Greg and I were expecting to have to tip-toe around the question until we couldn't stand the vague non-answers from the evaluators and have to ask, yet again, "Is he autistic?"

We prepared ourselves to hear: "It's hard to determine at this time/in this facility/setting, in 2 months, take him to xyz evaluation." Just when we had given up hope on getting an answer anytime soon, it was there.

The first 2 days were disorienting. It felt like I was walking around in a haze, imagining all of the difficulties he very well might face, and wishing I could make things easier for him. At the end of the 2nd full day I had my first, and so far only, cry. It was ugly. It was absolutely what I needed to clear out of the haze and start getting things done. It was time to start learning the acronyms, researching what health insurance covers, reviewing the materials provided by the social worker, trying to narrow down a few preschools that have autism programs.

The thing is, autism is part of Cooper. While it does not define him, it IS part of him. Some of the great parts, some of the challenging are influenced by autism. While some might see the arm-flapping as an alarming "red flag!" I see it as an indication that he is really happy or excited by something. How many of us can express our happiness so openly? The challenging parts can be really difficult to deal with on a bad day, but a lot of his challenging behavior patterns make so much more sense to us now. Hopefully with parenting therapy we can learn to calm him down and reduce the stress that leads to meltdowns.

Lots of learning ahead, but feeling grateful that our feet finally hit pavement. Time to move forward.

Waiting.

I was trying to get Cooper to look at me this morning when I was explaining something to him. He kept refusing to look at me. I was about to give the "look at me when I'm talking to you or [insert consequence here]" reasoning to him but then it hit me. What if he gets really uncomfortable looking at someone when they're talking to him if he's autistic?

Sure, maybe it's just him being stubborn and deciding he doesn't want to look at someone, but what if I was about to get irritated over something he has no control over?

I don't know what kind of road is in front of us. I do know that I am one hundred percent burnt out on waiting. Most days are okay, but some days it feels impossible to wait another day for another evaluation that will very likely leave us with no more answers than we walked in with. The same routine we've been participating in since he was 18 months old.

We hear, "I get this feeling that something is off but I can't quite put my finger on it" from his doctors. Do you know how frustrating that is to hear as a parent? It's basically saying, "Your son might need help but we don't have enough information to actually get him the help he might need. Instead, book this appointment that will take 3 months to get into. Maybe they can help."

Most days tick by and we know that it doesn't matter if it takes a couple more months for an answer. He is our son, we will love him regardless, and he will absolutely get whatever help is available IF he is autistic. Days like today, where he spent an hour and 15 minutes sorting his colored pencils one by one, dumping them out, and doing it all over again are frustrating. His sorting and flapping and "red flags" aren't frustrating. It's the constant worry that we're not doing everything in our power to give him the tools he needs.

Today is hard. Tomorrow will be okay.

Calm in the craziness

Whew. I forgot how insanely stressed I was last time I updated this thing. Things were stressful on the parenting front for a few months. From what I've heard, this is a pretty common thing for just-turned-3-year-olds. Add on Cooper's frustrations from his speech delay and it kind of collided into this mess of stress.

Like all things parenting related, things evened out. We got through it. I need to remember that going forward.

Things are still pretty chaotic in our house right now. Greg very unexpectedly lost his job last month. We are extremely lucky because he was re-employed almost immediately. However, there is still a gap between paychecks we're currently scrambling against. His new job pays significantly less and I have to insure all 3 of us now. My employer's health insurance rate just skyrocketed. Money is tight, it sucks, but we will get through it like we always do.

Cooper is still struggling with sleep anxiety. The going-to-bed routine on average lasts 2 hours. It is daunting, but at this point it is so expected that it isn't as overwhelming as it was. On those rare nights he falls asleep instead of crying/talking/shouting forever, it is bliss.

Cooper's appointment with the developmental specialist is finally only a couple weeks away. It is just an intake appointment so we won't have "answers" but to finally be closer to another step forward is a relief.

So, rambling aside. Things are kind of crazy but for once it doesn't feel impossible. I have my family, we have our imperfections, but we move forward.

Real talk.

Turn away if you are not ready for some honesty. 3 is tough. It is such a bipolar age. The tough part of it came on so suddenly, right in the midst of me feeling like I was rocking the mom thing (about a month before he officially turned 3). 

3 reminds me of those newborn moments where I felt like I was in the impossible, nerves on edge, jumping at loud noises because my anxiety was sky high from all the screaming.

3 is amazing. It is play-do, nursery rhymes, laughing at fart jokes. It is a lit-up face when he hears we're going to the children's museum. It is him pretending to read, pointing to words on the page and trying SO hard to figure it all out.

3 is defiance, rage,  and compromise. It is sleep anxiety. It is constant assertion that everything must be done his way. It is seemingly endless tantrums even when things DO go his way. It is feet-kicking, red-faced, wailing insanity at times. 

3 is creative. It is putting a paintbrush to paper without worrying about the final outcome. It is wanting to color all the time. It is singing, and the occasional head-bop to a song. 3 is love. It's how excited he gets when he gets to see the people he loves. It's him saying "I luh you too, ma." It's reading in forts and always wanting to use a flashlight and binoculars.

I know this is all part of the process. I know the capabilities to deal with emotions aren't immediate. They take time. Hell, I'm not sure I'm one to talk on that front. We will get through this, even if both of us end up crying on the floor some days. 

Good things!

My mind has been tending to drift towards the negative (more than usual!) as of late, so I thought I would take some time to jot down the good things that happened today:

I was leaning out the door saying goodbye to Cooper and Greg this morning. I said "Goodbye, Cooper! I love you!" and he turned around and smiled at me and said "I luh you, ma!" He's been saying "I love you" back for a month or so now, and I don't think it will ever get old.

First full week that my work schedule is back to normal!! There are not enough exclamation points for this. I never realize how much goodness comes from a more or less regular schedule until it is thrown off.

I decided to stop decorating outside for Halloween. I know this sounds like a bad thing, but honestly, I am pretty relieved about it. There is definitely a bit of sadness about not having a crazy yard, but I am so looking forward to not being tied down to my house on Halloween (to hand out candy) for the first time in the last 5 years. I am thinking a Halloween camping trip will be in the works! Also, less clutter and less money spent.

My house has been clean for a few days in a row! Okay, so you still need to close your eyes and pretend the nerd room and my craft room are clean, but the rest of the house has actually stayed clean!

Take that, Monday blues!

Clutter

I am having a really difficult time managing the clutter that is involved with crafting. I have been leaning very heavily towards getting out of the business side of things, and much of that is due to the clutter.

I don't want 20 rolls of vinyl hanging from my wall, a printer that's the size of a microwave, huge craft machines, thousands of plastic bags (for craft fairs), 40 bubble mailer envelopes, boxes, stacks and stacks of paper taking up space in my home. The problem is that I truly love to craft and create. I love that I can make all of Cooper's decorations for his birthday party. I love that I just made Greg a shirt to wear tomorrow. I guess I have to find that balance and figure out if all of the clutter is worth it.

This is the same problem I ran into last year with Halloween. The magnitude, both financial and physical storage strain of being an overly enthusiastic Halloween decorator hit me like a ton of bricks the night of Halloween. I wondered if it was worth it. My decorations sat outside on the back patio for months.

I'm wavering in terms of whether or not either one of those ventures are right for me anymore. I have no regrets about trying the business side of the craft world, but I just don't see it working out. Even if financial success does start to emerge from it, I just don't see how the time away from my family or the complete chaos that a craft business entails is worth the financial gain.

Oh, and Halloween? Even if my yard isn't decked out I will absolutely continue to celebrate the season. There are still pumpkin patches, apple orchards, haunted houses (maybe not mine!), Halloween camping, and so many other ways to celebrate it. I just feel like both crafting and Halloween cultivate a constant sense of "need to buy more things." It's something I am trying desperately to get away from. I want to experience more, not acquire more.

3 years.

In just over 2 weeks I'll have a 3 year old. Just like last year, birthdays are tough. It's really difficult knowing I want another and knowing that's never going to happen. It's difficult not having the person closest to me be on the same page to empathize with and to understand what I am going through (and yes, he knows I'm writing this...there is no bus-throwing or secrecy going on).

I wish it was easier, but I'm not blind. I know how lucky I am to have such a wonderful kid. While it is sad (at times, enough to feel like the wind has been knocked out of me) to know that I'll never get to experience this again, maybe it's just a way to reinforce to look closer, to appreciate all of the little moments and milestones. It's so cliche but it really does go by too quickly.