The boys had the best time, jumping and splashing, submerging their hands into the mud and throwing bits of mud in the air. It was wonderful to watch, they were just so free. Without me telling them to be careful, don’t get wet, stop shouting they played and played and it was great. Once they were finished they both wanted their hands cleaned and lets just say, a baby wipe wasn’t going to cut it. We found a small stream of running water and they jumped right in and cleaned their hands, they thought it was the best.
More than just Flowers.
Zachary can sometimes struggle with his emotions, especially big emotions. I know this is nothing strange when it come to five year old’s. Heaven knows at the grand old age of 32, I do too. I have learnt to ‘read’ Zachary and I have learnt to preempt what many of his ‘triggers’ are. A lot of the challenges Zachary faces due to his Autism are the same as any other child his age, however it tends to be the intensity and frequency that sets him apart. When I collected Zachary from school on Friday he came out with this huge grin, ran up to me and hugged me. He tried to pick me up and he was talking ten to the dozen. I could tell you what was going to happen next, just by those first few seconds.
I get to pretend.
To pretend that everything is OK. That we are all fine. Then I have a day like last Tuesday, where it just soccer punches you right in the gut. Where it takes your breath away and you can’t hide from it and you can’t pretend to be normal because it is plain to see for all in big, bold, capital letters.
So, March 10th. It feels like a date that should be recorded, a date that will be forever etched into my memory. It was after all the day my middle son Zachary officially received his diagnosis; Autistic Spectrum Disorder, ASD. At…