Choices

We started Colin on an anti-anxiety drug last week. I don't think any parent says, "Hooray! Drugs for my tween!" It has never been something we wanted to get into with Colin. For one thing, there aren't any drugs for autism spectrum no matter what Jenny McCarthy tells you will "cure" them. For another, Colin is so high on the spectrum, I suppose in our first born heart of hearts we hoped we could just handle it.

And really we did. Colin has done very well up until now. The early childhood special educator told us at the time we found out that there was nothing more to be done for Colin that we had not already done. Of course once he got to school there was more, and I am thrilled to say we have been very pleased with our rural special education program. Colin really flourished with their help.

But now. He's just gotten crankier and crankier and many of the tantrums I remember him having as a three-year-old we have relived again in the past few months . . . only now he's bigger . . . and stronger.

So Friday we began a half dose of this medication. On Sunday he ate an entire waffle. Colin has not eaten an entire thing -- ever. Monday and Tuesday homework went so well I put sunshiny happy faces next to where I am supposed to sign my name in his assignment notebook. Me. Smiley face. Today he was a little grumpier, so he took ten minutes in his room and came down rested and ready to go. This was huge. Two weeks ago, he would have gone up there and worked himself up into a lather. Kicking. Stomping. Not today.

And last night. Last night. Colin hugged me and said, "I love you, Mom." I can't recall a time when he has ever done that without prompting from Brent.

Friends and loved ones, here comes my son.