An iPad, Glow in the dark bubbles, and a trip to Bora-Bora

Those are just a few of the items on Wyatt's birthday list-- or rather, his animated powerpoint presentation.  He was rather offended that I wouldn't give him birthday spankings (some traditions are just unwise when you live with a highly literal autistic child!), but he reveled in his special day none the less.  Birthdays with Wyatt have always been like my boy himself-- a little off the beaten path, but a genuine celebration of life. 

Wyatt's first birthday had me panicking about something completely stupid-- my toddler was not toddling.  I remember trying to help him take steps while holding my hands-- he wasn't having any of it.  I had no idea at the time that my son was autistic, I just assumed that he needed a gentle nudge in the right direction.  By the time our guests were arriving, I let my agenda slide for the first time all day and admitted defeat.  "Oh well," I thought to myself, "I'll just let him play with paper and bows and smash cake all over his highchair.  I'm sure Einstein wasn't walking by his first birthday, either."

When I let go of my plans for the day, I enjoyed watching my son reveling in the crinkling paper (while ignoring his presents).  While the cake was mysterious at first, once he got going, he coated everything within his reach in frosting.  Because I let go of his lack of walking, I was able to enjoy my son.  

We've had our share of "unique" birthdays.  We had years when we had to whisper the birthday song (while facing the opposite direction), just so Wyatt wouldn't get overwhelmed and cry.  To help Wyatt tolerate people at his parties, we let him watch movies while we opened his presents. He had cake and Veggietales-- what was not to like?  Again, this is probably not in Martha Stewart's "how to entertain" manual, but Wyatt loved it.  

Now that he's a big eight-year-old, he enjoys the birthday song.  He still loves having control of the remote on his birthday, but he also loves being with us now.  Also, I wouldn't dare attempt to open his presents now-- he enjoys it far too much!  

That being said, we still keep things low-key.  Not too many friends, no pinatas (again, an ASD can of worms I do NOT wish to open) and Chuck E. Cheese is always warned to stay FAR AWAY from my mascot-loathing son.  And just when I think I've got this all figured out, Wyatt starts fretting over the weather forecast (even though his party will be INDOORS) or asks for a trip to Bora Bora for his birthday.  Perhaps the only thing I should expect on June first is the unexpected-- which, as I have learned first hand, can often be quite wonderful.  

As I stroked the sweat-dampened hair of my youngest son tonight, I thought about what a gift my son has been to ME for the past eight years.  Unexpected?  Always.  Frustrating?  Often.  Worth every minute of it? ALWAYS!!!  

My precious little boy, thank you for changing my life in ways I never knew I needed.  I can't give you Bora Bora, but I promise to continually fight for you, love you no mater what and bathe you in prayer as long as I have breath in my body.  Happy Birthday, Wyatt!