Dear Caleb

Caleb's room isn't much of a masterpiece.  

I am not a lifestyle blogger, a designer, or even a collector of nice things.

My childhood bedrooms consisted of hand-me-down furniture {I was number four out of five kids}, not to mention I shared my room with my little sister until I was seventeen.

I guess you could say that Caleb's room is pretty similar to what we had as kids.

I've always wanted to photograph this space when he's away at school; when he leaves his toys in the middle of play and nothing has been picked up.

We aren't bed makers in this house.  Only two out of the four of us have beds to actually make {we technically just lift ours up every morning}.  Maybe one day we will, but for now I have no time to instill this chore.

Thanks to The Lego Movie, Caleb's obsessed with Lego's, which is a pretty awesome thing since it encourages pretend play and helps with fine motor skills.  I'm officially the mom who steps barefoot on a Lego and wants to scream...but alas, everyone's asleep.

With his other obsession {watching California Screamin' at California Adventure} being so costly, we've built five different K'NEX coasters together.  FIVE.  

And he still loves maps.  And streets.  And anything with a sequence.

We hardly read from this stack of books together, because now I read from our bed, but they always stay here, waiting to be returned to.

My mom was on a mission many years ago to find him this BRIO train set.

He recreates California Screamin.

And he'll leave it there until I pick it up because I'm tired of tripping over it.

Apparently he wanted to look at pictures from when TJ was gone; found this little album I made TJ in his room.

I can literally tell you where every one of those stuffies came from... 

that the tiger is the only thing he's slept with since his crib days {from Uncle Paul/Aunt Jo}.

that his Brown bear is more than loved {from Uncle Sean/Aunt Shannon}.

that the out of focus blue elephant doesn't play twinkle twinkle anymore {Ellie the Elephant from Uncle Pete/Aunt Eileen}.

that the faded green turtle still shines starts {from Auntie Christy}.

that he used to drum as we'd chant "We're Not Gonna Take It" {from Uncle Paul/Aunt Jo}.

and that I splurged on that Sonic at Target this summer {thanks for the thumbs up, man}.

And then in this little container, just some water and leaves...or fish to Caleb...to show me that our house is "kindof like a pet store, mom!"  Awesome.

Off in this little corner, amongst forgotten toys and the dust collected on an old coffee table, are a few books.

Things I had reserved for decorations that have been pushed aside for things that are of more interest to him.

The most important one being this.

I wrote a little blurb about this journal a while ago here.  

I bought it when I was pregnant and began writing to Caleb, even before we knew he was a boy.

I recorded milestones and thoughts I had.

I wrote every time he met an out of town family member, I wrote about the Dodgers, and I wrote about how blessed we were by our families.

It was easy for me to write because TJ was gone for five months at boot camp and a-school.  

It was a great distraction.

I even shared the best card game ever {if you're a Gresch}.

Shanghai.

I guess this was turning out to be a little like his baby book {minus the newspaper from when he was born, his first haircut clippings, and pictures}.

I wrote just about every month for three years...

And then I stopped.

A lot of autism parents find themselves in a hard spot when they talk about pre/post diagnosis, and I am one of them.  It's interesting because you can't look back at pictures of Caleb and immediately "see" his autism...technically you can't at all.  But you can see it in his lack of expression, in his far off gazes and in his interest in stemming...so there are always those thoughts {as small as they are} that creep in when I'm feeling nostalgic.  

But then there's this book, this journal where I poured out my hopes for him.  I can look back and read where autism was present and I hadn't realized it.  I read how Caleb wasn't talking a lot, but he loved to repeat things over and over.  More than a few mentioned that we weren't at church again because he couldn't handle the noises the other children made.  And of course I mentioned Lilly's grand entrance into the world and how he greeted her with "ADIOS AMIGO!"  

I've mentioned before that I felt like I always knew he was autistic...but there's something about this journal and this Welcome to Holland moment that had me caught up...for three years.  I'm not going to beat myself up about it {the early years of autism are rough, rough}, but I really wish I had kept writing in there for him.  Part of what kept me away were my own thoughts: what's the point; he might not ever want to read it let alone understand what I wrote...but that attitude was doing nothing except limiting my Caleb and all of his strengths.

So today I threw that attitude out the window and played a little catch-up...

I love you with all of my heart and I'm SO PROUD of you.