I've spent the better part of my life running a short race. A sprint. Flitting haphazardly between what I'm doing now and what's next. I couldn't wait to get out of high school to go to college, couldn't wait to finish college to start my "real life," couldn't wait to have a husband, house, etc. And yet, once I got all of those things, I was never enjoying it, but merely looking toward the "next." It didn't even stop when I had Eric. I couldn't wait for the smile, the laugh, the first time he rolled over, crawling, walking, talking. But, when we started to miss some of those milestones, my life slowed. At two and a half he was diagnosed with autism. I wanted time to slow down so that he would have time to catch up. And I believed that he would rapidly catch up. Six years later, time has done anything but slowed. I cried on his eighth birthday because eight years has so quickly passed me by. While we have each made tremendous strides, we haven't reached the summit of our abilities. The landscape is ever changing and there are new challenges and obstacles every day.

"When you improve a little each day, eventually big things occur. When you improve conditioning a little each day, eventually you have a big improvement in conditioning. Not tomorrow, not the next day, but eventually a big gain is made. Don’t look for the big, quick improvement. Seek the small improvement one day at a time. That’s the only way it happens – and when it happens, it lasts." ~ John Wooden

Eric still can't hold a conversation with me or his peers. I know he loves me. I can hear it in the way he says "hi" time after time to me. Hi (I love you). Hi (so glad you are here). Hi (I am so exicted!). Hi (come play with me). He packs more feeling and emotion into his limited vocabulary than the greatest writers and poets. I know he's happy and while he gets his needs and wants met, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss the back and forth banter of parent and child.

"The difficulties are indeed numerous and great, and cannot be overcome immediately. Making progress is like miners' work: it doesn't advance as quickly as one should like, and also as others expect; but faced with such a task, patience and faithfulness are essential. In fact, I don't think much about the difficulties, because if one thought of them too much, one would get dazed or confused."  ~ Vincent Van Gogh

I stay very optimistic. Things will get easier as they grow. Adolescence won't be as tumultuous as I have been warned. More language will come and the tantrums will decrease. They will go to college, have jobs, etc. But the truth is, I don't know that. No one knows the future of their children, thus adding to the thrill and roller coaster ride of parenting. It is blind faith that guides my gut-need to believe that my kids are going to be fine. And while in my eyes and in the eyes of those who know and love them, they are fine. They are perfect. To society, they are outsiders, a bit strange at times.

"My theory is that everyone at one time or another has been at the fringe of society in some way: an outcast in high school, a stranger in a foreign country, the best at something, the worst at something, the one who's different. Being an outsider is the one thing we all have in common." ~ Alice Hoffman

I have learned more from my children than any class, book or lecture could teach me. They have taught me the true value of slowing things down. They have given me the gift of the present. They have shown me that miracles are everywhere if you just open your eyes to see them. And though I may not have planned on the road I’m traveling, the diversion has been one I would never go back and change. I'm making the most important journey of my life, and I am blessed to have them as my companions and teachers.

"Motherhood is about raising--and celebrating--the child you have, not the child you thought you would have. It's about understanding that he is exactly the person he is supposed to be. And that, if you're lucky, he just might be the teacher who turns you into the person you are supposed to be." ~ Joan Ryan, "The Water Giver"

On October 15, family and friends are joining Rob and me in running the Buffalo Creek Half Marathon to benefit the Organization for Autism Research. Running a long race seems to be the perfect metaphor for my life. I used to be racing, sprinting in fact, to feed my own need to progress rapidly and get through life. Now I'm competing with Father Time and finally enjoying the slower, steadier pace.

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity." ~ Gilda Radner