It's an expression my wife uses every now and then; "Reliving the toddler years." It refers to the fact that our son, who is 9 and has autism, is developmentally stuck in his toddler years in many regards. It can be tough for a parent to face sometimes because it means that our kid is not normally developing. We didn't get the same kind of kid that everyone else got. His mind is not advancing at the same rate as other kids his age. He's 9, but he acts like he's 2 or 3. And most 2 and 3-year-olds have a much larger vocabulary and speak more clearly than our son.

But, it's not all that bad. Really, it's a blessing. Our son is a blessing from God. Braden still calls for his "Daddy" and his "Mama." I love it when he calls for me, when he needs me. "Come here, Daddy." It's a great feeling! And he needs me a lot more than a typical 9-year-old needs his Dad. It's nice to be needed!

Follow up:

This morning Braden woke up happy. He throws open his bedroom door and he's immediately thrilled to be starting a new day... sometimes at 6:30am or sooner. His smile is rich with love. What an example for so many people, including myself! He bounces around and jumps like a pogo stick. He's excited to get out of bed and get his clothes on. He's happy about going off to school. To see Braden so jovial makes my heart sing. It makes me realize that it's not so bad having a child with autism. He's excited and quick to greet Mom and Dad and the dog and cat right away.

And lately he has been a chatter box that won't shut up. Last night, while I was eating dinner, Braden was in the tubby. And he kept on trying to get my attention. "Daaaaddddy!" he would shout. "What? I'm eating. I don't want to yell down the hall." But he kept on.

His speech is far from perfect. In fact, usually, only people who know him can understand him. He doesn't enunciate correctly and he skips words. Heck, he can't pronounce some letters. Spoon comes out as soon. But that doesn't stop him from trying. Even when we know the context, sometimes he has to repeat himself three times before we finally get it. And then he chatters on.

He needs help with just about everything, from wiping his butt to putting on his socks. Bathing, communicating, and negotiating a parking lot without getting ran over. His comfort zone? Home.

Though he's not totally stuck in routine, he certainly loves the predicable. Every day before I leave for work he starts. "Daddy's gonna take the little car," Braden spouts. I always take the little car, the little fuel efficient Toyota Tercel. It 'aint pretty, but it does the job. "Daddy's going to work," comes Braden's reminder to us, and probably a reminder to himself as well. As much as I'd love to stay at home, I cannot. So off I go.

We have a respite worker who comes and spends time with our son periodically. Sarah is great with him and loves him very much. And we love Sarah! When Sarah arrives, Braden knows that's our cue to leave the house. And he's happy about that. After a few short instructions me and Mom leave for a nice peaceful dinner or whatever.

And when we arrive back home later in the evening, Braden knows that's Sarah's cue to hit the road. He helps her pack up and practically pushes her out the door. "Sarah gotta go," he says. It's funny. He knows that's the next step and it must happen. That's the way he likes it. And whenever anybody is leaving, Braden loves to stand at the window and watch them drive off. Maybe, when he watches people drive off, he knows in his mind that OK, now they're gone. Maybe he needs that solid closure to move on.

The innocence; Many kids, even typical kids, retain that innocence for quite a while. But a lot of people with autism retain that innocence all their life. It's a beautiful thing. It's a blessing in itself. For any child, I'd venture to say that innocence is often at it's peak during the toddler years. And if we're constantly reliving those years, well, you get the picture. Yes, sometimes we have to tolerate toddler fits, but we also get to enjoy the toddler innocence, the toddler love, the toddler trust.

If we have to relive the toddler years with Braden for the rest of his life, we'll gladly do it. Come on, the terrible 2's aren't so terrible. It's all in your perspective.