To everything turn, turn, turn...

It's been quite the month, now that it's almost done, it's been quite the week. A total whirlwind of emotions swirling around here. I have NOT been easy to live with the past few days. This is bubs' last week of school. It's also his last week of therapy. No more therapy (at least for the summer, and so far, none is slated for the fall). My bubs has been in therapy since he was six months of age. He had torticollis at birth, and he got pt pretty early on. That was our 'intro' to 'the system' which has so lovingly nurtured us along all these years. It really is wonderful, and something to celebrate, but it also has me a little mushy, a little frightened of the unknown territory headed our way, and nervous to be leaving our cozy little nest.

When bubs started his aba preschool, he was three. He didn't talk, and was quite a handful. I didn't know what was going to happen with him. I was crazy into biomed, and if you wanted to see what perseveration looked like, a picture of my face should have been plastered in webster's underneath the word. I was obsessed with autism. I had to be. It was the only way I could think I had control over the insanity that was our life. There wasn't any peace for me at that time, the closest I could come to peace was exhaustion. I didn't want to send bubs to that school. It was intense, it was one on one for six hours a day, bubs would be in his own room (some called them cubicles) doing discrete trials. Plus the fact that the school had the word 'autism' in it's name, and I just wasn't ready to go there. I didn't want him to have to go there. I agonized. I looked into other options. But the honest to God truth was that aba worked for bubs. It really worked. If I wanted aba for him, I had to send him there. They were aba experts. The only game in town, and actually people moved here from all over the place to send their kids there. So, we sent him there. A baby. In diapers. It was rough in the beginning.

I really dreaded the whole thing. But a surprising thing happened. We got better. Not just bubs, but me and subsequently my poor husband who had to put up with me. Bubs loved it there, and it wasn't quite the horror show I imagined it to be. We found our peeps. Just walking in there, surrounded by people who were in the very same boat I was, was soothing in a way I had not known. While that is not enough of a common bond for me to be friends with someone, it does lead you to opening up, and I found my way to people who I consider my true friends. I also think bubs made some really tight friends, and that is no small thing to consider. Two years ago, I didn't know if he would talk, or be able to even hold a conversation. I am floored by everything that comes out of his mouth. Everything. Even the bratty stuff.

So, we are moving on. Like I said, it's a complete mix of extreme emotions. We are ready to move on to the next step, but we will really miss where we came from. It's all good. On to our next set of challenges.... bring it on, I am ready, I swear!

Thank you to all my bloggy friends for your kind words and condolences. It really means a lot to me.