I started training for the April 18th, Bridgeway House 2010 Run for Autism on April fools day. Was I a fool for attempting? I survived the 5K and kept up an easy jog while pushing a stroller (with some help with two of Jackson’s biggest fans, and my encouraging friends, Jaymie and Nakita). Jaymie’s words, “Pace yourself. I’d rather finish well than not at all” kept me steady until the end. It was not pretty: the red face, the huffing and puffing, Jackson losing a shoe somewhere before the midway mark, his annoyance at wearing only one shoe finally reaching a fevered pitch before I could hear it above my labored breathing, more huffing and puffing….
But just before rounding that final bend, the breeze caught Jaymie’s last encouragement, “Go, Sara! This is for you, Jackson!” I nearly lost it then thinking, Yeah, this is for you, Buddy. My next thought nearly sent me into hyperventilation, I wish it were this easy: Run a 5K and you’re done. There’s no finish line for me in real life…. I sucked three huge gulping breaths and sobbed thinking, I’m 50 feet from the end, and I am going to crash. Then I came around the bend, saw the gigantic “FINISH” sign and Jaymie’s earlier words “Finish well” snapped me back to sanity. A deep breath, a burst of speed, the announcer’s enthusiastic “Number 215: Sara Hague and co-pilot!” and I made it across the finish line.
So while this journey with Jackson doesn’t have a definable end (what parental adventure does?), each day is kind of like that race. It’s not about progressing quickly, conquering the next target skill, or utilizing every teachable moment. Goodness knows that didn’t happen today: Jackson still refuses to poop in the potty, could not be enticed to paint, forgot how to ask for water, ate his brother’s gluten- and dairy-filled cereal while I was in the bathroom, spilled his blueberry/spinach smoothie on the carpet, and I had to apologize to my children more than once (for “Mommy’s bad attitude”). Not the stellar performance I was hoping for.
Each day is like a Run for Autism, and the only thing that really matters is finishing. Finishing well. So tonight, I left the dishes in the sink, sat down on the kitchen floor, and took advantage of Jackson’s end-of-the-day exhaustion to get in a precious sing n’ snuggle time. Tonight I finished well.