A TRIing summer

I completed my last tri of the season and it feels a little bitter sweet. Sweet that I no longer feel compelled to get up at an unruly hour to swim, run, or ride. Bitter that I no longer feel compelled to get up at an unruly hour to swim, run, or ride. I could always work toward next year but then that would ruin my long standing reputation of procrastination, so probably not.
Thanks to my camera toting, supply carrying, sideline cheering, number one fan.

Anniversary

A year ago today Mark and I sat on a worn sofa in a small office while Jackson played with the toys in the corner.

"I will write this up formally but I feel that Jackson does have autism....." I don't remember much of what the psychiatrist said after that. Mark held my hand a little tighter as tried to postpone the tears that were building. I looked over at Jackson who continued to play unaware of this fateful pronouncement that would affect the rest his life and ours.

The one year anniversary of an anniversary you never wanted to celebrate. It has been a year of ups, downs, trials, errors, tears, and laughter. Usually all in the same day.

It is hard to put into words the way I feel about my sweet boy and all that we have learned from him. There is something about him that draws people in. You can't help but want to be close to him. When his little body can not hold in his giant spirit, when the radiance of his smile is almost palpable, and when he longs for affection as much as we do, those are the moments you wait for. We wade through the frustration, tantrums, screaming, anxiety, knowing that just when we don't know if we can do it any longer the reprieve comes.

I feel like I have been given a fresh understanding of life. Expectations shifted, goals realigned, tolerance amplified, and a greater love of the small things than I ever thought possible.

We have a long road ahead of us but I can't help marvel at the progress that Jackson has made in the past year, thanks in large part to the wonderful professionals that have worked with him. He is drawn to academics and loves to learn. He has long since mastered letters, numbers, shapes, all the remotes, and is starting to sight read. He speech is coming along and I love hearing his sing-song voice play with his new words.

He is often overwhelmed by crowds, unfamiliar places and people, and finds solace in solitude. It took awhile, but I have learned to join him and not force him to join everyone else, and these are some of my most cherished moments.

He will start preschool in a couple of weeks and I worry. About him, about others, about sending him into the world without his mom's constant protection. But I am also excited to discover his untapped potential in this new environment.

Life keeps going and we are enjoying each new experience.

So, happy anniversary my sweet boy. Love you.

Lab Rat

Last night I headed west on my bike in search of flat roads, farm land, and fresh air. I was thoroughly enjoying my ride with minimal traffic, freshly baled hay, and plowed fields. I was at one with nature. My zen, chi, or whatever you call it was all in balance. Or at least I thought until I realized that my communion with nature was being impeded on, if not overpowered by, technology. Let me paint the picture.

Nature: Beautiful, natural, pure.

Me: Ipod and headphones, heart rate monitor, watch, phone, and bike computer. I was simultaneously monitoring my heart rate, time in each heart rate zone, calories burned, cadence, mileage, time, max speed, average speed, current speed, listening to music and had my phone set on vibrate in case I couldn't here over the music.

I suddenly felt like this guy

Doing this

My balance between man and nature no longer seemed very harmonious and the feeling of zen master was quickly replaced with lab rat.