Second annual newsletter (sort of)
I am not sure why this has been so difficult for me to write. I keep thinking that this year’s newsletter will be rather anti-climatic after last year-maybe that’s why I have been putting it off. The constant and often painful change of 2008 made it very easy to point to exactly what happened that year; an ordered checklist was easy to compile. 2009 was much sneakier and quiet. But now that I am looking back on it, 2009 seems like proof that 2008 happened.
This past year was about committing to the changes I had made. This past year was all about settling into the person I had become. 2008 forever changed me- old habits and ideas fell away and I got a chance to re-define how I wanted to live. 2009 proved to me that I have changed. When all the drama and conflict subsided I found myself calmer and more centered than I have ever been before. Here’s to growth and maturity continuing in 2010!
The Spawn, on the other hand, spent 2009 changing and healing and growing at an incredible rate. If you came to my house today and met the chatty, imaginative little boy who lives here you would find it impossible to imagine that he was the same little boy who’s tantrums and struggles I have detailed in this blog. He has more than blossomed- he has exploded! The changes in his diet and his new therapy have made it very difficult to spot the remaining traces of his disorder. We fully expect him to enter “normal” kindergarten next year, and though that brings with it a new host of challenges we are confident in his ability to continue to thrive.
And then there’s Mr. President… That crazy man moved The Spawn and I into his home, was patient during the job search, helped to find daycare and a nanny and even attends school meetings on a regular basis. He is more than my squeeze; he is my partner. I am starting to think of The Spawn as ours rather than mine. When you find yourself being a single mom (autism or not) it seems ridiculous to think that you will ever have a relationship again. It seems ludicrous to imagine that anyone will love your child as much as you do or that you would let them if they wanted to. Obviously Mr. President’s love for him is different than mine, but I am amazed to discover that it is perfectly complimentary. We have built a family- and it was easier than I thought it would be.
