when I'm 18

Peaceful morning swinging often lures the philosophical from Trevor. Earlier this week he was laying back, arms behind his head, while I gently pushed and chatted with him. Somehow as were talking the number 18 was mentioned.

He sighed, "I'm just thinking about me at 18."

"Oh? And what are you thinking?"

"Drive a car."

He craned his head to make eye contact and observed my facial expression, which was probably a mix of sad surprise.

He turned back around and continued, "Yeah, I'd love to drive a car when I'm 18."

At that precise moment we heard a rumble in the sky above.

After a pause he said, "Or an airplane."

What am I going to do with this boy? First a car? Now planes! It's the sweetest thing that he's grown very aware of his "special needs". In fact, if he likes a person, the first thing he wants to share with them is "my special needs". When we meet random strangers in our daily ventures and someone is especially kind, he'll often whisper to me, "I think they must know special needs". One day last week he found my Infantile Spasms Awareness shirt in the bathroom and wore it all day. I'm sure I'm only aware of a fraction of his feelings about his "special needs".

I swear he's a little bit magic. There is untold beauty in the way he embraces his diagnosis but doesn't let it become a barrier to his dreams.

Now, if he could just teach his mom how to do the same!

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