Bittersweet and brothers

The Batsman is making progress. He is making amazing progress. Every.Single. Day.

Tonight he said to me, "Mummy, you proud of me" and while he may not understand exactly what that means, he knows that it means something pretty cool about how I feel about him.
Immeasurably proud.

The Bowler is growing and developing too. At lightning speed it would seem. It's amazing, after the absence of the Batsman's speech in those early days, to watch the words just spill out of the Bowler like a waterfall. He's two years old and there are big long sentences. Sometimes I turn around when he speaks, stunned to hear this kind of speech.

It's bittersweet to witness the Bowler's developmental path. Things that the Batsman struggles with, the Bowler picks up in a snap. Skills that the therapy team spend hours teaching the Batsman, the Bowler learns speedily and seamlessly. It feels like, in some things, the Bowler will overtake the Batsman sooner than we might expect. In age, they are two and a half years apart. In reality, so much closer.

I feel lucky to witness the Bowler's development. I feel lucky not to be worried about him having an ASD diagnosis too.

I'm lucky, but it's bittersweet too.

They are so different in so many ways but when you see them together, they can't be anything but brothers.