The J-Man’s lack of pre-occupation with Christmas reduces some of the craziness of the season, but I can’t imagine trying to observe anything else during it. The last thing we tend to be is introspective during the holidays!

As adventurous as the past 3 1/2 years have been – and even with almost 3 years of various therapies under our belt – this first year after this diagnosis has truly been that extraordinary ride. Plus, we have this blog and a stack of evaluations, IEPs, and various notes to remind us where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. That’s one positive about all the paper and stuff you accumulate in this – it’s easy to go back and see the history and remind yourself of where you’ve been and where you are.

I think the image of diving into the deep end of the pool is about the best metaphor we have for all this. It can be scary beyond description or it can be exhilarating or both or anything in between. Personally, I can barely swim, so such imagery has a fearful edge to it! But like with everything else we do, it’s a matter of perception. Does staring down at that deep end fill you with fear or make your skin tingle with excitement and adventure? I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer to that, but it does say a lot about how all this is largely a matter of how we look at it.

And it helps when others can hold on to that excitement and energy for us during those times we can’t do it for ourselves. That’s what I enjoy about reading everyone’s blogs. On any given day, things are great for some of the bloggers I read and falling completely to crap for others. And then it ebbs and flows and changes shape for all of them as each day passes. Joy morphs into despair and vice-versa. But on any given day, you see a little of everything and find encouragement and honesty and support within the whole of it. So in that way, every day turns into Diagnosis Day I suppose as we check in with ourselves and the outside world and rediscover what this is all about.

We’ve never really celebrated diagnosis day at our house, though I think you’re on to something. It’s definitely, as you said, a good day to stop and just consider a bit of the extraordinary ride we’ve been on since the diagnosis was actually spoken. It was, after all, that day when we walked to the end of the diving board, scrunched our toes to the very end, bobbed a few times in the air, and then dove right in to a whole new world. Great post.