Walking the tightrope

In past posts, I've compared the day-to-day living with my spectrum boys as a roller coaster, and the frustration of being optimistic in an often gloomy situation as a flume ride. But here's another.  Now that my boys are progressing and learning new social and coping skills, living with them is like walking a tightrope between hope and reality.  Unfortunately, my balance has never been very good, so I regularly fall to one side or the other.

Hope is a wonderful thing. I firmly believe that my boys have done so well because DAD and I have held on to the idea that all things are possible for them.  Sure, it takes a tribe of professionals and a few tired chiefs (us), but it would be impossible without hope.  The problem, though, is that all the mountains my boys have climbed have done nothing to level the terrain in front of them. They still falter. And, as tempting as it is to make believe that a good day is the beginning of a new dawn, a good day is just one good day.

So, in some ways, their progress makes the road more bumpy. Would I have it any other way? Of course not.  But, more often than a year ago, Dad and I find ourselves looking at one another during WINK's or SMILE's tantrums with dumbfounded expressions. "But..." we regularly say, "where did this come from? SMILE was fine sleeping in his bed last night!" or "WINK made a decision without much prompting at all yesterday!" or  "I thought he was over that!"

And then comes the moment of harsh reality. My boys are still autistic when the sun rises.  They are living with their variations of the same disorder on a day to day basis.  Sometimes, Dad and I make it easier. Sometimes, frustration and inflated expectations get in the way and...we don't.

But tomorrow is another day and maybe it will be a good one.  I hope.