This is going to be short because I am enjoying a drink and cheese with Jason and don't want to spend any more time than I have to writing nonesense.
But I need to do something, because lately I have lost a bit of my grip on what is important in life.
You see, I vowed to myself that I would never let a medical condition or diagnosis define my children. And on that front, I have been holding my own rather well.
But lately, I am starting to find that something I didn't predict has happened. I have started to allow a medical condition to define me.
I can't remember the last day that went by when I wasn't researching autism, desperately trying to find ways to give Sam every opportunity in the world to be all the Sam that he can be.
And somehow, despite my best efforts, this word, this ill defined concept, has slowly taken over my brain.
It's all I think about.
Sometimes, it's all I talk about.
And when I'm not talking about it, it's still there, like a rat gnawing away at my subconscious mind.
I need to get a grip.
Autism doesn't define my life. It doesn't control it. It is part of my parenting journey, yes. But it should not be the biggest part.
I am letting this word rob me of just enjoying my life as a mother.
So I am issuing myself a challege: The BIG AUS CHALLENGE to be precise.
For the next 72 hours, the word "autism" and its evil cousin "developmental delay" will not escape my lips.
I will remember the parent I used to be and start enjoying the journey again.
And when I lapse, as I am sure to do, I need to hug my son and tell him that I love being his mom.
Because really, that's all I should concern myself with: being the best parent to Sam and Charlie that I can be.
And there's no DSM V definition for that.