Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The uphill battle worth fighting

I posted recently on the difficult, often painful journey through autism that we are taking. Sometimes, when we are in the middle of the climb, it's hard to see the destination. The peak. We can only see what's directly beneath our feet, and each step seems more daunting than the last. It's easy to forget the reward at the top - the breathtaking view. And now that I've hammered this metaphor to death, I'll move on to my point.
I'm honestly starting to believe that the end of this journey can be joy. That, along with a wonderful team of therapists, teachers, and of course me and John, Perrin has a true chance of greatness. That all of my hopes and dreams for him may actually come to pass. I will never give up. Never back down. Never forget that with every day that passes, Perrin learns a little more, talks a little more. I am starting to see the traits that seen in a 5 yr old are frustrating and exhausting can actually be strengths for him as an adult. He's bright and tenacious and knows what he wants in this life. I wish I was a little more like that actually. So I suppose what I'm saying is that (returning to my little metaphor) I am at a point right now where I can look up and see the beauty that is around me while I continue the climb.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Knitting and Life

So, most of my life these days has revolved around autism. Since the Christmas break, Perrin's behavior has been very erratic and sometimes very aggressive. He simply cannot cope with a huge change in his daily routine, and the 2 weeks he was at home with me, though very fun and pleasant, really threw him off, and he's still recovering. However, in the process of getting him back on track, we're dealing with a lot of unpleasantness. Autism is a thief that steals from my child. It takes his joy, his feeling of safety, his progress and leaves behind a child who doesn't yet have the language capability to express his frustrations, his anger. It's heartbreaking to watch your child struggle, to constantly be on the outside, never quite understanding how to play with his friends. My family lives in a bubble, and Perrin seems content most of the time to exist inside that bubble, never leaving the safety and comfort of his home, but the longer we stay inside, the harder it is to leave. I've returned to a sort of hermit-like existence, and I myself am slowly losing my ability to interact with my friends. It's almost easier to not even try to be a part of the world that doesn't understand what our life is like. I know my friends and family care and love us, but with a few extraordinary exceptions, they will never get it. I see the pity and confusion on their faces. I've been told "He'll grow out of it." I haven't yet lost hope that one day Perrin may live what we might consider a "normal" life, but I'm not delusional enough to think that one day he will suddenly wake up and no longer be autistic. I have the same hopes for Perrin that all mothers have of their children. I want him to be happy, fall in love, have a career. But right now I'd be happy with him writing his name, eating with a fork, having a conversation. Things I wish I could take for granted. Perrin is hilarious, affectionate, and has a great personality. He is my whole world. I have to force myself to not make autism my whole world. It is a daily battle.

Now that the bummer portion is over, I am still a knitter. And this is a knitting blog, so now for some yarny goodness. My current project is a lovely cardigan for myself.

I've got the entire body knitted up, currently working on the 1st sleeve. It's been going rather quickly, as the yarn (NaturallyCaron Country in a gorgeous charcoal gray) just flies off the needles. It's a luscious merino blend that is uber soft and should be very warm and toasty. It'll likely take me days to sew up all the pieces, b/c I suck at sewing, but I'm excited about getting it completed. That's all I'm working on right now