There are those moments when I realize that I am truly living in the moment with Kannon.
I am in it for him...not for myself.
I watch him run through the park hands flapping, words flying out of his mouth at a very loud volume, people staring...and I just smile.
I just smile at his energy and desire to be free.
I watch him see a little girl who has a balloon, his eyes light up and he just watches the balloon sway around in the wind...
I watch him roll around on the floor at stores searching for "treasures" and it makes me chuckle every time no matter how many glares I get...
I watch him stare at himself in the mirror making silly faces at himself and laughing...and it makes me smile.
I watch him draw scenes that are only in his imagination...they are truly beautiful...he takes such time with them, such care to make sure it is just perfect.
I sit next to him while he watches Scooby Doo, and I just hold his hand while he is lost in tv land...
I look at his feet, his hands, his eyelashes...I just stare at him being silent and still.
These are rare moments that I take advantage of.
I absolutely must freeze my conscious and allow myself to simply watch Kannon in times like these.
I must let him have these moments for himself.
Because when he does have an hour long tantrum, screaming...crying...yelling...
I must be able to take him back to himself when he can't.
Today was one of those days.
He was exhausted.
He had a very long tantrum that lead him to a very real meltdown of emotional levels.
His therapist could not get him back to good...he could not even regulate his emotions, he could not reach down deep enough to get himself back.
These moments are truly the most heartbreaking for me.
I stood in the corner of my room peering around and watching my boy lay on the floor in emotional exhaustion, pain and frustration on not knowing how to calm his body.
He kept saying over and over, "I promise"..."I promise"..."I'm so sorry momma"...
Mind you I had not been in the room at all, I had been in my room just listening to the therapy session leading up to his meltdown.
I decided to intervene and walked over to Kannon.
I picked him up in my arms, and for a brief moment I had the strength to carry my 75 pound son to the couch.
I laid him down next to me and put my hand on his head.
He immediately looked into my eyes and I immediately teared up seeing the pain he was in.
I gently rubbed his belly as I told him this:
"Baby, it's o.k to be sad...we all get sad every now and then. But you have to know that you are surrounded by people who love you. No one wants you to be sad, no one wants to see you cry."
He just nodded, he didn't say a word and he was still looking me straight in the eye.
"Kannon, you have to calm down...it's not good for you to be so upset."
He nodded his head again and said "I know mamma"
I then concluded by saying, "You are such a good boy Kannon, mamma is so proud of you and all the hard work you do and I need you to come back to me, o.k?"
"I need you to calm your body."
He took a few deep breaths, then put his hand on my chest and said "I promise mamma...don't be sad...I promise"
This is why I give him his moments in life, no matter how small or "weird" they may be.
Because today when I needed him to come back to me, to my moment, he did.
Life is about balance.
Even in regards to emotional warfare.
If you give, you truly shall receive...even in the smallest of victories.
But in a world surrounded by Autism, these are all that matter sometimes.