It’s been a while and my life has not slowed down in the least. Seems crazy to me that there was a time when I was able to write weekly on this blog, let alone when I posted multiple blogs each week.
My older son finally was able to say “Dada” last night. I captured it on video and have already watched the video at least 50 times. This stupid milestone, which has crushed me for years, has finally been checked off. I’m not even sure I can get him to say it again but I’m so thankful I have proof he did it.
I’ve been having a hard time with social media lately. All my friends humble-bragging about their kid who was born with his first novel already written are hard to take. My experience is always going to be so different from theirs and while my head accepts that, my heart does not.
It is a very lonely road and every time I try to bring it up, no matter to whom I’m confessing, he or she always tries to make me feel better. But that’s not what I need to hear. Being told your feelings don’t matter because [insert cliche here] is the worst. Reaching out for that understanding and then having your worries negated sucks. And it happens to me each time I try to talk to someone about what I’m feeling. I honestly don’t know the answer. Other autism parents are dealing with their own troubles and on their own timelines. I keep hearing about others building their tribe, but I never see any signs I have started to find my own.