...only a year and then he's gone... (Part 2, 6 through 10)

6)

A cross country move and fresh start under our belts, we were both ready for new adventures.

And his 6th year brought plenty of them!

Kindergarten came in like a wrecking ball and threw our whole balance out of whack, as he adjusted to social and sensory stimuli and I adjusted to his absences and his emotional returns.

Already we were in the thick of it...Team Wellerding all the way!

He'd sit like this, pensive and watchful, at the playground when it was full of children. But if it was empty… Oh, the fun we'd have!

No recap of J-bug's past 10 years would be complete without a photo including Henry. Confidant of precious secrets, therapeutic assistant, educational tool, best friend, solid listener, essential cuddler and all around necessary fellow...Henry the Raccoon came into J-bug's life shortly after we left Ohio and has been a constant since. 

A few things to note:

J-bug previously had another raccoon named Joey (the name everything he named for the first five years bore!) whom he carried back and forth to preschool.

Henry was a last minute purchase at the gift shop at Space Farms Zoo after a long hot day of animal-watching.  His nose was the only one that looked 'right' to J-bug among the dozen or more raccoons displayed. He was promptly abandoned in favor of a transformer once we got home.

A week or so later we went to Build-a-Bear for the first time...what fun! Another trip followed shortly thereafter...two new stuffed friends in all their clothed, accessorized glory!?!  Little did I guess what was about to happen...

Once home, J-bug spied the abandoned raccoon forgotten in a corner and immediately retrieved him.  He came up to me in the kitchen solemnly and declared that the raccoon must have tried to run away because he felt so bad about himself.  Not quite 'getting it' yet, I inquired half-interested as to why.  Boy was I in for a surprise! In the moments that followed my son explained how the raccoon felt different and unlovable because he was the only one with  no clothes and he didn't want to be made fun of.  Aha! Now I was tuned in.  We snuggled up on the couch, raccoon between us, for a chat about how that must feel and what that raccoon must wish for.  That evening we returned to Build-a-bear with one very special stuffed animal...a newly named Henry.  And we tried on every single stitch of clothing until Henry found a set he liked.  As we left the store, J-bug checked in with Henry to see if he felt better, must have heard assent and promptly tucked him up under his arm. 

Six years old and ready to face new challenges.  Don't be fooled by the horns...the tough exterior crumbled daily the moment he got home.  J-bug continued to excel academically, though school was a challenge for his senses and emotions.  In kindergarten we soon learned the downside of having pushed so hard for a mainstream placement as other students noticed some of his autism stims and began to tease him.  Before we were a full month in it had already grown into full-fledged bullying on the playground and bus, with the scars to boot.  J-bug weathered (and continues to) the storm each day with such strength and grace but melted down when home.  And the school officials quickly learned that my 110lbs pack a steel spine, razor wit and acid tongue.  By school year's end my son had a new outlook on life based around the premise that the only people whose opinion matter are those who take the time to learn your story and walk in your shoes. And proving once again how special he truly is, he resolved not to let the frequent cruelty of others dampen his natural sympathy, empathy and generosity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7)

I've always said that I want him to have the fullest life possible. Wide open and chock full of people, places and experiences.

By the time he turned 7 we were well on our way. Any day that dawned sunny involved at least one adventure...even if it was just a nature hike.

It should be noted, we still hold hands when we walk...but these days my arm is the one that raises to reach his, as his 6'3" has outpaced me!

Tempted by all that water, but still quite unsure whether or not he wanted to go in without me by his side. Outfitted with as many flotation devices as he could get his hands on.

For as often as I suffer from single mom guilt and chastise my inability to provide him with objects and experiences he might have had, had things gone much, much differently… For each and every one of those times, there are at least five photos like this one that prove otherwise.  Not even twelve yet and his life is already so full of experiences.  A friend commented at one point here on Facebook about how it seems we are always on the go. And she was absolutely correct. I'm constantly trying to encourage growth in him by taking in new sights, sounds, places, tastes, etc... And so he's growing up as something of a young man of the world. He's walked alongside people from every walk of life: a multitude of economic backgrounds, a vast array of differing abilities and disabilities, talents of every form, colors and races and places diverse...

And as he gets older he has taken all that within himself and changed and grown...ever more accepting and empathetic, ever kinder and helpful...

Does it get any better than this?!? I still remember being shocked to read the notice that came home from school one day...that J-bug had one of the leads in the musical! To think we went from intensive speech therapy to this?!? Amazing!

I truly believe the best part of motherhood is when your child catches you by surprise...

...and boy, did he ever!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8)

Quick to help, swift to hug. By 8 years old, already the kind of person I admire. And all that despite being picked on almost daily.

What a wonder! What a marvel indeed!

And what a testament to that steel spine of his and the piping hot furnace of a heart.... Nothing yet, nor ever will I hope, cool down his sympathy and empathy.

See now, that's what I'm talking about!

That smile right there…and those twinkling blue eyes...despite having just spent the better part of the morning being poked and prodded and tested.

What a sweet reminder of the strength found in love...just look, Henry is dressed for battle to defend his beloved J-bug from harm during the blood draws!

Of special note...every time J-bug goes for a round of testing or procedures, Henry is by his side and most often, partakes. To this day Henry wears a bandage on his tail...a fresh one with each experience.

There is an absolute cacophony of white noise that fills your head when a doctor's phone call diagnoses your child with autism.  It's as though you're hearing the definitive words through a tunnel filled with the sounds of other parents' experiences that you, suddenly, won't have. Or so you think.  The part of your brain still present in the moment and clutching the phone listens to the litany...the list of things you are being told your child will likely never do.  But drowning it out are the voices of all your personal worst-case scenarios. All those things that you dreamt up while you were expecting suddenly vanish into the ether with the sound of explosives going off. 

(Tangentially-you do recover)

And it takes a moment in time to sit with this stark knowledge.  Or perhaps it's a moment out of time, with no real limit or passing.  At some point you move forward and embrace the new reality. And as time passes you let go of those naïve daydreams, and start focusing on attainable accomplishments. 

Then suddenly out of the blue, long after you forgotten you ever wished it so, one of those naïve daydreams sneaks up behind you and surprises you by coming true in its own way and time.

Pictured here is one of mine.

Because pictured here is the moment that I became a Soccer Mom.

And this one thing I can absolutely guarantee you…

No mother has ever been prouder to carry that title.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9)

By nine years old, his smile had changed permanently.

Instead of that open, trusting grin he offered the world a shy sliver...hoping for a warm welcome but nervous. In our quiet moment alone, his smiles would reach all the way to his eyes. But they never made it out when others were around.

My heart broke...daily...

And still we persevered, finding "our happy" in each and every day. Working ever harder to create a soft place to land, and holding fast to each other and our hopes and dreams.

This first decade of J-bug's life is drawing to a close, quickly! By tomorrow he'll be someone else altogether....an 11year old!

Whether it's the single parenting or the autism parenting or any other of a myriad of reasons, our little family is based first and foremost in a conscientious focus on teamwork. Making each of us stronger individually by working together.

Never is that more clear than in the crisis-moments we've come through. 

It is a lucky mother indeed, who can say her child genuinely inspires her. His strength and fortitude are simply amazing. But it is his ability to maintain his sweet and cheerful disposition, even in the hardest of times, that serves as inspiration for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10)

The big 1-0 was a year for the record books for sure! The social skills therapy group afforded him a veritable crowd of likeminded buddies to take a midweek brain break with on Wednesday evenings.

And surrounded by a group of boys who genuinely thought he was "the coolest", he started to branch out a bit.

At his birthday party, we bounced ourselves silly and dove into some serious laser gun competition.

It's a boy's life after all...he totally wiped the floor with me!

Those first few heart-stopping moments of early diagnosis have been so completely eradicated by these past 10 years.  It's as though when we hear the word "no", what it translates in both of our minds as is "go forth an wage battle". In the past few years I've often spoken about the warrior side of my son in terms of school problems and health problems.    It's his ability to withstand hurt and pain that caught me by surprise.  As though hidden inside the very depths of his being is this steel spine that encourages him to jump right back into the fray, even when he knows he'll likely get hurt again.  Does he suffer from disappointment and anger and depression? Absolutely. In that, he is oh-so-typical. But it's his willingness to, with encouragement and support, keep trying and trying that have gotten him so far.  The boy who was 'not supposed to' talk, interact, learn self-help skills, etc...   That boy.  He ceased to exist. 

This boy. This one. He plays soccer. He's learning the cello and virtuosically self-teaching music. He brings home A+ exams. He had the lead in the school play and joined the musical theatre club.  He just auditioned and was accepted into the performing orchestral ensemble at school (mind you, he just picked up the cello in October).  His teachers describe him as the most empathetic child they've met....the first to offer a hug or helping hand.

This boy. This one. Loves his Mami with an active heart.  He made me a lobster!

Cares for his pet, Katja Noel, with all the concern of a loving father.

Cares for his friends, encourages their joy and shares in their griefs.

And as you can see...creates beautiful art!

One final shot as this tenth year closes...and a personal favourite.  A beautiful picture of a beautiful boy.

But more than that.

A beautiful picture of a moment in childhood...normal, typical, in no way defined by any diagnosis or deficit...just...

J-bug. At 10. At the beach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Leanna