The Joy of the Little Things

Two weeks ago, my autistic son went to his younger brother’s baseball game for the first time.

He stayed 15 minutes.

A few nights after that he went for the whole two-hour game.

A few nights after that we brought our youngest daughter with us.

And then most recently, Spider-Man (our 5-year-old) came too.

Which, if you add it all up, means all six of us were at a baseball game together.

It was not effortless. Not by any means.

It was work. I don’t think me, or my husband sat once.

We chased and wandered.

We opened fruit snacks and wiped off hands with baby wipes.

Bathroom breaks.

Wiggles.

Smiles.

Tears.

But we did it.

And I’m sharing it because I had this moment during the game where I thought…

Not many people know how hard we worked for 13 years to get to this moment.

And they may never know. And that’s fine.

But it’s not lost on me. How hard we have to work for seemingly simple things.

And how amazing the victories feel after.

You think it’s going to be the biggest things that will make the most impact when you step into the secret world of autism.

Like speech. Or sleep. Or eating something besides a chicken nugget.

And yea, those things matter.

But when I add it all up, all the parts of our autism life…

It’s these moments that rise to the top.

A baseball game as a family.

A high-five between brothers.

Watching my eleven-year-old sliding into home. Knowing that I didn’t miss it. That I was there. That we were all there.

Life is funny like that.

The big things are little.

The little things are big.