Sometimes I almost forget that my kid has Autism.
She rattles off a few clear-as-a-bell sentences.
She looks me straight in the eye and laughs.
I start to think... maybe she's just delayed socially.
Maybe we're all overreacting.
or in a magazine.
I watch two young kids about her age have a real conversation with each other.
She has a screaming fit because we have to bring out the broom
to sweep the kitchen,
because apparently it's just as frightening as the vacuum these days.
And I am forced to remember.
Abby has Autism.
And that sucks.
I love her just as she is,
but it sucks.
This isn't the way I imagined my life as a parent.
Sometimes I cry about it. And he cries, too.
And after the pity party,
And I am so blessed to be her mama.
We can do this.
We've only just begun.