Our first year with him was rough. Really rough. Like 2 hours of Max screaming on the floor every day rough. It’s funny to think back on my approach during this first year. How I parented him the way I parented my other children, even though I knew he was a totally different can of worms. How I wish I could go back to that mama and show her exactly what she was doing wrong. Because she was doing it all wrong.Our second year was better. We had a team of specialists hop on board to help us make sense out of this kid’s quirks. We were able to get some diagnosis that made a big difference in how we responded to him.
So now we’re at year three. And I feel like we’re settling in. At year three it’s not so much about standing our ground against the endless meltdowns or figuring out why we were having so much difficulty getting this kid to do anything. This year we can be more about pushing the boundaries that we’ve clearly established. Figuring out which boundaries are safe to push on and which are not. Which boundaries may never be ok to push on.We don’t know what the future holds for this special boy. We don’t know that he will ever be able to set out on his own, fully independent from his parents and siblings. He may always need someone by his side ready to step in when his boundaries get pushed the wrong way. That’s ok.