There Goes My Heart

Call me Mother of the Year.

The first stage of the process is now complete. Back in September, I alluded to Peanut's preschool misadventures and mentioned that we were following up on different resources. Those resources have taken Boomer and I to pre-K screenings, the doctor's office, and most recently, a child psychologist. Now, after three months, we have a diagnosis.

Asperger's.

For those who are unaware, Asperger's is a mild, high functioning form of autism. It's more of a focus on the social/behavioral issues. The good news is that Peanut, like many with this, is intelligent to the point of awe. The bad news? It's still autism, complete with all the stigma.

So there's the facts. And we go to stage two. Stage two currently involves finding a pediatrician that specializes in the autism spectrum, another meeting with our school district, and figuring out if Peanut will have a place in a pre-K that will be more suitable than our first attempt. We know they want him; it's now a matter of do they have room for him.

The facts are cut and dried; my emotions are not.

When Boomer and my doctor put that kid in my arms nearly four years ago, I swore that I would be there for him. He would have the childhood I had. Loving parents, friends, grandparents to spoil him rotten, and every opportunity possible. He still has that, but the friends part is getting a bit more difficult. Thank God for Partner-In-Crime. And his parents.

Right now I feel like I've been kicked in the teeth. I want to know what I've done wrong. I want to keep him close to me. But I can't. And I know that I haven't done anything wrong. But it still hurts.

I know now that my son will always have an uphill battle ahead of him. More so than the other kids in his class. And no parent wants to hear that their precious baby's path isn't paved with gold.

I want to keep him safe from harm, from stares and comments. But I can't.

What I can do, however, is be his biggest fan. I can be a passionate advocate for my son. I can ensure the best education, learn his life, troubleshoot for him now, and (most importantly) teach him to deal with this crazy world. I can whisper words of love even when his temper makes him scream at me. I will make sure he knows he is adored by Boomer and me.

After all, isn't that what parenting is all about?

Call me Mother of the Year.