In seven days, he turns eleven. 

And he’s been counting down the days til his birthday for awhile. He loves them. He hates cake, but loves birthdays. It’s one of my favorite things about him- he’s always got to have a birthday cake. He never touches it. He will take a picture with it, but he’s never eaten it. Even on his first birthday- he stuck his hand in icing and immediately started screaming. (I probably should have seen some sensory issues coming at that point.) 

When he was little we did the whole “invite the entire class” thing. And they’d show up and they loved him and weren’t offended when he didn’t really engage in play with them but it was always fine and I think he felt celebrated and it was fun. 

As he’s gotten older we’ve backed off the big parties. To be honest- I’m not sure how much of those were for him and how much was what we felt like we had to do- an attempt to create some level of normalcy or trying to prove to myself that he wasn’t really that different,or  that despite the differences birthdays were going to bridge the gap.  And I think it worked, for a while- and so I continued to plan these parties and make favor bags and all of that. But this is a kid whose ultimate happy place is the wave pool at Great Wolf Lodge or at home with access to all of his “Stuff” and where he can get apples without having to ask someone and he just can just…be. No expectations, no forced social situations where he may or may not know how to respond or how to react.

Last night I asked him if there was anybody he wanted to invite to celebrate his birthday with us at home. 

“I’M REALLY NOT SURE.” 

I asked more questions until I finally got told I was asking “TOO MANY QUESTIONS PLEASE GO AWAY.” 

I want my kids to be loved, I want them to feel safe and secure. I want them to know that I would do anything for them. I want them to have a room full of friends on their birthdays and a crowded photo that you can’t hardly fit all of the friends into. I want them to look back and fondly remember their birthdays- the core memory type of thing. 

But that’s what I want. 

He wants to chill. He wants to play his video games. 

Probably check out some YouTube videos. He definitely wants Kinza. 

Parenting is a crazy journey.

Autism parenting is this additionally crazy journey where you never really know when to let go and when to keep holding on. For so long it was easier to assume he’d go along with whatever we planned or wanted to do. But now- all of that work we’ve done, the hours of work with therapists to teach him how to communicate, how to be a kid, how to work in classrooms- has brought us to a point where he’s got no problem telling us no. He will suggest a dinner location. He knows what he wants, and he has the ability to communicate that- which is one of our greatest accomplishments. 

In seven days he turns eleven. 

And it might look different than other eleven year olds. 

In seven days when he turns eleven, I’ll be reminding myself of this: 

Different, not less.