The bad days {& when they become fewer and further between}

Thursday was a bad day for little K.

He was tired, I was tired. He had a friend over and from the time he woke up he was becoming increasingly over-stimulated and frustrated.
He was doing his laps, he was stuttering his words. He was closing his eyes tight and growling. He was screaming and squealing and with every word he spoke, his voice went up an octave and became louder and louder. I was exhausted, so was he. By the end, he collapsed in his bed in a fit of tears and anger and fell asleep.
An hour later he came down the stairs, one by one.
"I'm sorry Mommy". He said quietly and came over to me when he embraced me in a great, big bear hug. The ones only he can give.
"It's okay Buddy". I said back, enjoying the hug and thinking back to just two short years ago when it was hard to get him to give even the smallest hug, let alone have him linger there for longer than a few seconds.

Some days, most days, I forget that we have a child with Aspergers. On most days, we are so stuck in our routine and our adapted way of dealing with everything that is thrown at us that I don't notice that our Kaleb is just a little bit different. A little bit different in a totally awesome way.
Most days, he just seems a little louder, a little more stubborn, a little more obsessive than most kids.

Then there are days like thursday. Days when I just want to throw myself down on the floor like a child and hug my knees to my chest and cry. Days when he is so emotionally exhausting that I just want to throw my hands in the air and stop trying.
These are the days that I have to stop and think. When I have to remind myself what it was like just one, two, three years ago, when he could barely put a sentence together, when we couldn't understand what he was trying to say and he would hit himself. When he didn't even call me "Mama". When I would cry at the thought that I was doing something wrong.
I need to stop and think about those days and never, ever forget how I felt at that very moment, because that's when I realize that I will never be there again. That we are all improving with every passing day. That the tantrums and the running and the frustration gets thinner all the time and we continue to see such a difference in our boy.

I mean, how lucky are we?? We get to experience this journey with our son. And even though there are a few "Thursdays" thrown in the mix, even though there are plenty of negative feelings and sadness and emotions that we can't even begin to articulate, we are a family, and we are amazing.

And so is he.