As much as I want my children to accept and embrace what life gives, I don't want them to feel guilty for wishing that their sister could tie her shoes or write her name or talk to them about how life can be so mean and unfair. I want them to know it's OK to love their sister, while not loving that she has autism.
I didn't handle the transition from one to two kids very well. I've been trying to figure out why. Maybe it was just more overwhelming than I was prepared for. Maybe I needed more Zoloft than I was willing to admit. Maybe I was too rigid in my expectations. Maybe all of this has made me softer and more willing to bob along in the chaos.