OK is relative

One of the first things that "they" do when your child is diagnosed with a disability is to try to strip away your hope.  They do this by telling you that your kid won't have a "normal" childhood, they won't be a "normal" grown up, they will falter and they will not learn, and you will not be able to control them or yourself.  You will not be able to love them, they will not be able to love you, and you should disconnect from them.

For some, the battle is lost at this point.  For others, it never is.  For most, we veer between the two, mostly residing in one camp but sometimes sliding into the other.

Really, all we want to hear, all any of us want to hear, is that everything will be ok, whatsoever you perceive "ok" to be.  This may mean an "ok" where your kids learns to use the toilet, or an "ok" when your kid knows when they need the toilet, or an "ok" where you get funding for incontinence pants for them. For me, an "ok" would be where The Boy's violence ceased, and Lid could control her temper. 

When people ask me how things are, if The Boy has had a "good day", where I have only been a hit a few times, I will tell you that everything is ok, because for me, it is. Relatively.  If Lid has only had a few violent tantrums, it is an "ok" day.  Relatively.

I can overlook a week of bad days for one good one.  Two good days in a row can make my heart soar, and make everything seem better.  Three good days? I'll tell you when it happens.