Spring Break is over.  We have enjoyed our “Stay-cation” this year.  We were in need of a break and we had a good one.  But it’s time for reality…..Back to School.  As the kids got ready for bed, I could tell that something was on Ethan’s mind.  He started to tell me something about school – but then stopped. After MUCH prodding, he finally let it out.  “I took a test.  I was confused.  My Teacher wrote X’s on it.  She kept writing X’s.  I told her ‘NO, NO, NO’.  I don’t want you to write X’s!”  I explained that if he didn’t write the correct answer that she has to mark it wrong.  He replied “I am tired of bad grades.  I ALWAYS make bad grades.  I try real hard (tears in eyes).  I am confused.  It’s hard.  I want it over.  When is Summer?”

I explained again that he does NOT always make bad grades.  He has made good and bad grades.  I reminded Ethan that we have Miss Carol, his Tutor (ABA), to help him with the things that confuse him.  I reminded him of how well he is doing in all of his other subjects except in the dreaded subject of math.

Lots of encouragement, hugs and kisses followed. I reminded him that we will always help him get through the tough times.  He seemed relieved.  He fell asleep and is resting easy now.

Oh I hope that one day Ethan can know the depth of my admiration for him.  The little lost boy is worrying about his grades.  He has come so much farther than we could have ever dreamed.  It took so much to bring him ‘back to us.’  And now – he worries about his grades.  The fact that he cares.  That he understands it is important.  That he tries.  That he studies.  That he wants to do well for his Teacher and for me and Freddie.  That he gets disappointed.  That he can be reassured.  That he gets it.   That he feels….. He feels.

When you ‘lose’ your child to autism, it is as though someone comes in and steals the very soul of your child.  For us, there was a child there, but the Ethan we knew was gone.  What was left was a child that responded to the World in a fight or flight mode.  Raw nerves and raw emotions. Fear on full throttle.  But no real human connection.  Fleeting moments of eye contact and acknowledgment.  We would shout it from the roof tops if he had any meaningful interaction with us, versus ‘at us.’  

And now, just a few years later – He worries about a math test.  He worries that we will be upset.  He squints his eyes to hold back the tears as he tells me.  Eyes that look straight into mine.  Oh my Dearest Ethan.  May you one day know.  May I be the kind of Mother that shows you every day just how proud I am to have you. I am sorry that you did not do well on that test.  I appreciate all of your hard work. But in this thing called life, you are a Winner.  You have fought your way back to us.  We have the boy we once lost.  In the scheme of things, nothing else matters.  We have you…. I am forever grateful to God.