I have stopped myself several times since school started because the urge to word vomit everything about him is….strong. I basically want to explain all the ins and outs of what makes him tick and the things he’s hyper fixed on right now and detail all of the what ifs even though a new teacher may never see or experience those things. It’s like I want the world to be totally prepared for him…even though I know that’s not realistic. The road won’t always be paved, and sometimes there won’t even be a damn road.

August marked ten years of OT for him, all at the same office with various therapists.

June marked four years of speech with the same therapist.

I guess you could say that any road we’re on- they built.

Or at least they helped us build it.

So much goes into building the kind of relationship with a kid that can continue to grow and evolve and stay productive over that amount of time. And damn these people have done it and done exceedingly well every time.

He’s a stubborn dude. He’s not going to be won over easily.

He’s a sassy mofo.

He tells it like it is, every single time.

He’s got thoughts and opinions and he’s not afraid to share them.

Early on in this current speech run, he cried almost the entire time because he lost at Candyland.

He refused to cut using a pair of scissors for multiple years at OT. Not because he couldn’t do it. Just because he didn’t want to do it with the OT.

But they roll with it, no matter what it is. They have learned to harness the power of negotiation with him, when to push and when to back off, and have learned how to push him forward consistently.

Road builders.

Having had them in our lives for so long has made me wish there were more like them. I could use one in every area of his life. It would make me way less stressed. I’d probably get more sleep.

But then today after school in the pick up line something happened for the first time.

The pick up line is long, and I was near the end. (That’s normal)

He was sitting on a bench and I saw him look over at me, so I waved

and he got up and walked towards me and got in the car solo.

Doesn’t sound like a big milestone does it?

It was big. It’s never happened.

He usually sits and day dreams. Waits until I get right in front of the line.

Waits until a staff member yells his name.

Little victories, that aren’t actually little at all.

So maybe I can hold on to my word vomit for longer. Maybe it won’t be needed this year.

Maybe he’s been the one building the road all this time.

I’m just glad he’s bringing us all along with him for the ride.