I read a lot of mommy blogs.
I am most moved by women who can tell you their darkest parenting moments and still come back to write the next day.
That takes guts.
Occasionally though, even the grittiest blogs seem annoyingly sugar-coated to me.
We all love and cherish our kids and we revel in their triumphs, but somehow the perfect stuff isn’t as compelling to read.
Usually I become impatient with the look-at-my-super-kid kind of posts.
If I had a dollar for every time a mommy wrote “I am blessed,” I’d never have to work again.
Today though? Today, I am the one whose lenses have gone pink.
I am the one in awe of my super, beautiful, smart, funny, growing, autistic kid.
I took him to McDonald’s this morning, a little respite from the boredom of our pajamas-only Saturday.
We parked, we got out, we held hands and we walked toward the door.
On the way, I sneezed. Kind of loud.
And my son said “bless you.”
My autistic son, who sometimes can’t even tell you his name, said “bless you.”
If you know us, then you probably have some idea how important this feels to me.
My smart little boy uttered a completely spontaneous, socially appropriate response to something that happened to another person.
This is huge. HUGE.
I asked “what did you say?” and again I got “bless you.”
Miraculous. I got instantly teary and thanked him profusely.
Obviously, I say “bless you” whenever he sneezes, but it bothers him.
He usually becomes agitated and wants me to take it back, but I don’t, because I desperately want him to be blessed.
I knew at some point he would get it, that his agitation would subside and he would know what to do.
I just didn’t realize how amazing it would make me feel when he did.
I’m not naive enough to believe he actually understands the prayer that he is saying. I don’t think he’s there yet.
Certainly the idea that “God” is implied and should really be said before the “bless you” is something else we need to teach him, but that’s for another day.
Right now, he has mastered a common social interaction.
He has tuned his subconscious to hear something and act in a manner that hasn’t come naturally to him.
He is growing and changing and I get to see it.
I am the luckiest mommy in the world.
I am blessed.
And I am blessed.