We have it good, you know. Others, not so much.

I know I’ve been sort of down lately, and worrying a whole lot about P and his bloated tummy, and my being broke and little Maria’s christening coming up and me wanting to be able to have everything I have in mind and being good at my job, and everything really! It’s been sort of a tough couple of weeks for me, psychologically and physically too because sometimes the demands seem to literally weigh me down.
But, today, on my name day, I spoke with someone and all of a sudden I got to thinking that it’s not that bad. And that it could be worse, and there are people out there that have it much, much worse than us, and all that which we all think when we’re down and complaining about this and that and all of a sudden we’re faced with someone, something, some person or persons living and facing obstacles that seem like little tiny ant hills compared to what you’re dealing with. P’s autism is no molehill but at least he chews his food and uses the toilet and UNDERSTANDS. I came home from work today, and everyday, and he runs to me and wants me to take him up in my arms and hugs me really tight. He does this every day, he’s so darn happy to see me. He smiles this really wide smile and it makes me so happy to see him so happy. I don’t know what I would do if my kid didn’t react this way. I think I’d be really sad. Yet, there are moms of autistic kids out there that don’t get this, this connection, this bond and that must be really upsetting.
I just really appreciate moms of special-needs, special-capabilities, kids today. I really, truly do. I think they’re heroes.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s