Blindsided by a sippy cup lament....

One of the things Chandler does well is travel. He could sit for hours in the car simply watching the cars and trees roll by. Armed with my stash of cereal, ipad, and stim toys, we can take him anywhere. This weekend's venture was a trip to Minneapolis to recertify his therapy dog in public. Because he is older now, I don't notice stares anymore. If he has a meltdown, I have a service dog next to me, and my arsenal of choppy sign language to let people in on the fact that there may be something a bit different about my son. I am the mom with the IEP books under my arm, my IDEA laws in my back pocket, and my mom degree in autism. So when he is flapping on the way to the pool, or crying because the elevator door opened on the opposite side, or the mall is crowded and he plugs his ears and nose...That is not when I notice the autism. When I noticed it was at a quiet breakfast with just him in his buzz lightyear pajamas and I, in brand new pajamas I bought on the way due to remembering all things for the dog and Chandler and leaving my own bag behind on my bedroom floor. We got up early and followed the smell of waffles and bacon down to the lobby. There was your typical continental breakfast crowd who gets up by 8, grandparents feeding babies yogurt, the businessman in front of CNN with the paper, the elderly couple with rolls and coffee.... Chandler sat across from me with his strawberry yogurt, fruit loops, and milk. He wasn't stimming or talking, or wandering. Just quietly eating his breakfast. Listening to the grandparents next to me talk about how big their toddler granddaughter is, and the mothers lament about how she tried THREE sippy cups to finally get her to drink out of one, she just didn't know if she could take it anymore....I can't believe the unexpected moments when tears will come to your eyes. Chan got up to clean up his breakfast, and followed me upstairs. I promised him a morning swim. (Just a cheer moment here, Chandler learned to say "swimming" instead of just water.) So while he dressed for the pool, I took the dog outside. Three children loading up into their minivan made a beeline for her, I released her to visit with them. She sleepily allowed them to pet her, and rub her ears, and their grandma commented on what a nice, quiet dog she was. I explained to the oldest girl, who looked about my sons age, that she was a therapy dog who helped my son, because he has autism and doesn't talk. She looked at me in wonder, and then said "Well, he'll learn to talk eventually" in a very matter of fact voice. I went back up to the forth floor, rounded up my son in his new robot shark trunks, and on the way down he began to stim. He gets so excited when he knows its about swim time, and he can't help jumping and flapping. There was a fiftiesh age couple in the elevator on the way down. I started talking to Chandler in the "explaining there's something different" way that I do, "Are you excited Chan?" "We're almost to the pool", etc. The couple smiled and the man said "Go get 'em buddy". The world is full of people both supportive and ignorant, and navigating the waters of acceptance is my job. Some days are rougher waters than others, and even when things are going perfect you may get blindsided and cry from the thought that some parents worry about sippy cups, and some parents won't ever have the struggle you have, but some may have longer, and tougher struggles, and worrying about the future is important, but not today....today we just keep swimming....