The roller coaster that is Autism

Let me be straight forward. This is not meant to be pretty. Just thoughts, frustrations, aspirations, goals. It's hopefully insight. And maybe a bit of an outlet for the moment. The autism that we deal with day to day is not full blown, low functioning autism. But a much higher, no one even knows it's there until you get to know him kind. Asperger syndrome. It's the different little things he does. Completely covering himself in blankets and lying there for hours if we let him. Obsessions over quirky things: one dinosaur. A train. A pirate, or how something is arranged. It's monitoring his temper as he tries to play with other kids, or reciting over and over how to talk to someone. The random rules to a game that only he knows, but you better follow them. We do have our good days. Even our good weeks. He is happy, cooperative, and kind. Things are good especially if we have things to do to occupy his boredom. A garden to weed. Flowers to plant. Busy work. I have learned over time that this is the climb at the start of our roller coaster. We wait in anticipation, knowing full well that somewhere beyond what we can see is a drop. And it will be a sudden change. From here I know we will plummet faster and faster, hands in the air and out of control. Only it won't be a pleasant, heart pumping rush filled with excitement and laughter and anticipation of the next thrill. It will be the beginning of days of tantrums brought on by nothing and yet everything to him: the wrong food, the wrong temperature, the shoes that are harder to tie, a paper for school that has words he can't spell, the battle over homework, or getting his things for school, someone touched his toys and he knows this because they are not exactly where he left them, I ask him to put his clothes away. He can't find the clothes he wants to wear, he doesn't want to go to the grocery store, or something completely simple is not how it usually is. Winter is especially difficult with so few sensory outlets. You just never know what it will be. I can feel the change coming in him. Or maybe it's just that it's been such a smooth ride for so long that I know it's all about to end. It has to. We've had it too nice for too long. I rely on his teachers. I know that they have a lot to do already. But the outside influence makes a complete difference. Our gratitude to them is immense. In his defense, he is such a sweet boy. A great helper. Smart!! And lots of fun to be around. He loves his siblings, and at times watches over them with loving care. So in this we are blessed. Blessed beyond measure to have such a wonderful boy in our family. And so we keep pushing forward, trying, exploring new ways that might work. Praying every day. Crying many days. How do we do this? What to do next?!!... And sometimes wanting to give up...And then we look at this sweet young face, with all this potential and our heart swells with that overwhelming love that can't be explained or contained and just know that giving up is not an option. We are overwhelmed at the opportunity and seeming mountain before us to get him ready for life ahead. To carry a job, serve a mission. To one day marry and have children. To learn to control his temper. To want to succeed. To finish a paper without having someone tell him every step. Just to brush his teeth without 20 reminders during the process. So we try to breathe. And try to think. And we let the tears flow. All of us. And then start again...maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow the coaster will begin it's ascent again. Climbing with cooperation, climbing with understanding. Climbing with hope. Maybe there won't be a descent the next time. Next time. There always is. So maybe it will keep getting better. Less dramatic. Easier. There's always hope. And I think that is what surrounds the spectrum of autism. Hope.