"Not ideal"

I have a scar on my nose. Most people probably don't even notice it but to me it is blatantly obvious. I got it a couple of years ago when it was discovered that I had a basal cell skin cancer growing there. Not a dangerous type of skin cancer but one that needs removed or it will continue to grow, so they remove it as soon as they can. It was originally found by my brother in law who, when I said that I had a funny little spot on my nose, become concerned and asked if he could do a biopsy of it. A couple of months later my dermatologist was removing it and stitching it back up. I hate the scar and the reminder that it brings me of my severe imperfections. As I shared this experience with Ryan his quote that has always stuck out was, "Well, it's not ideal". "Not ideal" has become a slogan of ours since and the beginning of Garrett's kindergarten year has been just that, "not ideal".

The "not ideals" began at drop-off on the first day. I was all prepared to walk my little man in. Fighting tears, I told Ryan where to park and wait and started the walk up the sidewalk. I knew that we were supposed to meet one of his aides at the door but I felt disappointed and slightly crushed when she told me not to come in. I know routines are important and it was best for Garrett but my mom-heart ached as I watched the other moms walking their kids in and waiting in the bus room. I prayed he wouldn't be the only mom-less kid and I walked myself back to car and said we could go. It was "not ideal". I wanted the experience that everyone else had. Having a special needs child requires sacrifice in a way that I don't always expect. Ryan and I say that we feel sometimes like we live an autistic life. Every aspect of our lives is affected but some hurt more than others.

The difficulties didn't end there but, then again, I knew they wouldn't. When I picked my little man up he seemed upset and uncharacteristically  aggressive. I even pulled the car over for a bit until he could get self control and find his "kind words". His complaint was that he wanted to ride the bus which isn't really a great option for us because his school is quite a ways from our house. He was argumentative and just not his normal self. After I got him calmed enough that I could drive, I prayed for peace and clarity and we went home. He had a rough few hours but we worked with him and got him chilled out and back to normal. We talked about it, wrote a note to the teacher about the bus thing and prayed that the next day would go better. Drop-off was good but when I went to pick him up the same hostile G look-a-like waited for me. His wonderful teacher told me just to keep it up and it would all work out but it was looking bleak from my point of view. The next couple of days have brought a little change. He is still not himself but he does seem able to calm himself more easily as each day passes.

He struggles with several issues that aren't ideal including wearing shoes outside, staying awake in the afternoon, and adapting to this new routine. The "not ideals" scream to me, just like the scar on my nose but maybe, to the outsiders looking in, they are hardly noticeable. It may not "not ideal" to be autistic or to have an autistic child. It requires changes to expectations and an unpredictability that is difficult to adjust to but the best blessings are often wrapped in sacrifice and heartache. I could never and would never want to imagine my G in any other way. Yes, it may not be ideal to struggle as he does at times, but his victories are always worth the pain. Do I cry when I think of how hard it is to transition him to kindergarten? Absolutely, but the first afternoon that I pull up to that sidewalk and see my happy-go-lucky, sweet, little boy waiting for me my tears will be from my deep joy and appreciation for him. I will gladly accept the heartache for now knowing that God will see us all through to completion, even the "not ideals" are perfect in His eyes.