Will she ever?

Our family ate at Buffalo Wild Wings yesterday for Greg's birthday. This is nothing short of miraculous to me. In a place with multiple TVs on every wall, loud music and close seating, our family actually sat down and ate together. No one ran away. No one cried. No one did beat box rapping at our table. No one bit or was bitten. No one hid in the bathroom for several minutes at a time. And most surprising, no one stared at us. This dining experience comes in only second to watching the 4th of July fireworks together.

As I watched Brenna calmly hold the menu and choose the popcorn shrimp, I realized that each child, regardless of who they are, is completely in the realm of "wait and see".

When your child has "autistic tendencies", there are some aspects of normal that you dismiss and walk away from. You act like you don't care if you see the fireworks, like it isn't a big deal that you skipped the mall with the santa or that you may never go to Disney. You never volunteer for the Holly Day Breakfast, not because you don't care or support the PTA, but because your child would melt down in the controlled chaos within 10 minutes or less. These choices aren't driven by finances, but by past experiences with your child. After so many times of sensory overload in a crowd, one begins to avoid and stop seeking out ways to prolong the torture.

Brenna turns 12 next month and has already passed some of the projections that specialists had predicted for her. When she was small, I was the crazy mom that drove the therapists and specialists nuts.

Will she ever look at me? Will she ever use the bathroom? Will she ever talk in complete sentences? Will she ever live independently? Will she ever want to interact socially with her peers? Will she ever want to hug me, or care if I leave the room?

If someone had initials after their last name and worked with Brenna, I believed that they were like a trustworthy fortune teller, able to accurately predict what was ahead. I just wanted to know. I just wanted to be prepared. It drove me beyond frustration when I was told the elusive, "We just have to wait and see. It's too early to tell."

So many of the "will she ever"s have been answered with a firm yes. I only hope I didn't spend too much time straining my eyes, trying to squint into the blurry future, only to miss the crisp and distinct present.