Post Worthy Emotion

Last week, my very first baby turned six.

You say, "*le gasp!* You cannot be a mother to such a maTOOR child! You look only old enough to have just entered college!"

...stop... you'll make me blush...

But seriously. It's insanity how my kid isn't five anymore. He's entered the first stage of childhood. You know, the one where you start making your own friends and doing things like sleeping in tents all summer and getting ridiculously dirty and trampling in all over the house and getting grounded.

My son is old enough to get grounded. He's old enough to know better than to strip naked outside in the yard in front of the neighbors. Heck, people, he's old enough to pick up his baby sister and carry her to the living room when she's getting into trouble.

He's so grown up to me. Consider my point of view here: three years ago I had a child who was non-verbal. He said a word here or there, but life with Bear was a guessing game. Did he want juice or milk, and if I get the wrong one is he going to spiral out of control because the stress puts his brain on overload? Is today going to be an awesome day or a day where I need to put everything on hold and do his squeezes ad nauseum? Is he not eating spaghetti because he doesn't like the squish or is it that the acid in the tomato sauce burns his mouth? How do I get him nutrition? He doesn't eat. Is he hurt? Is he happy? Does he want to hug his grammie? How do I know when he's stimming or when he's just being three?

Those were daily questions for me. I struggled every day knowing what the right thing was. I couldn't communicate with this beautiful Bear that God had given me and it was because of a neurodevelopmental condition that wasn't ever going to go away.

Fast forward three years.

Today, I had a conversation with Bear about what he did at school. He'd made a card and colored the person on it orange. He'd given the person web shooters. And he wrote "From Elijah" on it. And he made it for me. How did I know that? He told me.

Bear.
Told.
Me.

He tells me what sounds good for dinner. He tells me why he doesn't want to eat tomatoes ("They're squishy, mom") and he tells me that he doesn't like feeling dirty. He tells me that he doesn't want to build legos, he wants to build Baymax instead. He reads words like "avalanche" and "emergency" and knows exactly what they mean. He tells me about his friends at school. And when I pick him up from school, everyone around him tells him "bye, Elijah, see you tomorrow!" His teacher tells me that he makes a lot of friends and is very helpful. His typical education classroom is, developmentally, the perfect place for him.

I never imagined his life this way. To be honest, the "special" mom in me always imagined that he'd require intensive special assistance. I always imagine that adults around him won't understand him and will make him feel excluded. I always imagined his life difficult and beaten down. Don't judge me, because I'm just being totally honest here. I really hoped he would thrive in his life. But I never felt bold enough to expect anything but an uphill battle... for him and for me.

Every year, on his birthday, I think on how much has changed. And every year, at his birthday, I can't make the perfect speech to tell everyone in our lives how much their help and assistance and genuine love of my Bearface Gorgeousbrain means to me. Personally.

So, to those of you who are in our lives: to those of you who have been in our lives for a season and then God put you somewhere else; to the paraprofessionals and professionals who have brought my Bear so far; to those of you who have been, are, and always will be my friends and help me in this daily life; to those of you who are family and are so supportive and have taken time to understand Bear's autism and his personality: I don't know how to thank you. I consider you all part of the woven tapestry God is making out of our journey. You will never know how grateful I am for each and every single one of you.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I bless you in the name of my Savior; may He richly prosper you for the work you have done with us.

I love you all so very, VERY much.

...and so does Bear.

My Big Bear Hero is 6 :)