Hubby and I will never know what it’s like to raise TWO typical kids with a 3 year age gap . . .’cause we’ll never know. But this weekend, one of our friend’s boys took a ride with us and sat in the back with our little girl. The conversation that ensued between them was . . . LMAO funny. At least to us it was, probably because we are so unused to it. You know, usually it’s one-sided conversations that are met with howls, growls, and ‘love jabs’ – Maria being on the receiving end of those jabs.
So M was saying silly stuff and basically being herself and her new friend, a boy the same age as her brother, was being the older, wiser of the two. And no, M did not see a lion riding on an airplane but she said she did and her new older friend was certainly amused. When hubby turned and said to me “Can you imagine all the conversations that would’ve taken place between M and P by now” I knew that this ride, the images and the words we’d hear along the way would stay with both of us forever. For the whole 20 minute car ride, the content feeling and bittersweet happiness that overwhelmed me was met with, of course, GUILT.
So that put me, and my self-diagnosed mild depression, into a spiral of what if’s and why’s . . .
Our boy is going to turn 9 in just a short while. He attends a Special-Ed school where the majority of the children are mild to severely autistic. I know I’ve said this time and time again, but it’s just mind-boggling how little the school board does to integrate these kids.
And it’s a shame.
P takes one med for epilepsy, another for his mood swings, another for his hyperactivity and a new one for psychotic behaviors. All these are standard meds for autistic kids like P, I’ve been told. How sad . . .