It’s been over seven years since I started writing about parenting. In that time, so much has changed.

Both kids have grown up before my eyes, going from the growing pains of elementary school to the turmoil of the teenage years. Rereading some of the things I’ve written feels like going back in time.

When it comes to my non-verbal son, Lucas, those old stories are like hearing tunes from your youth. The feelings rush back, and you can recite all the words, but the music feels different now. Its meaning has changed.

For example, Lucas was a runner when I started this blog. We’d go to a mall or amusement park, and it took all my energy to keep him from disappearing. I lived in fear that he would bolt off, and, being non-verbal, he wouldn’t even understand that we were looking for him. It was terrifying.

The best answer was to let him get his energy out in a controlled setting. I’d load him up in our little red wagon and roll him around the neighborhood. We’d stop at the schoolyard near our house, and he’d run to his heart’s content. I can still see him smiling as he took off. It was adorable and a major part of his life.

Today, it’s a part of his life I almost forget even happened. Lucas isn’t a big fan of running anymore…or even walking, for that matter. Most strolls are forced, and he only does them to appease his poor old dad.

Don’t get me wrong, he moves around. Give him an iPad with YouTube Kids, and he’ll hop through the house, clapping, jumping, and spinning. That’s his jam now. The days of running away without warning are gone.

Food was a major issue too. I wrote post after post about that for years. Nothing could stop my little Hamburglar from grabbing any munchies he could find. You couldn’t trust a plate around this kid. He once shoved a giant handful of my salad into his mouth, only to disgustedly spit it out onto the table. Fun times.

This was the norm until I took him to a birthday party earlier this year, where I saw he had developed incredible self-control. It was like a switch flipped, and he suddenly figured, “Oh, I’m going to eat too. I can just wait.” It was one of my proudest dad moments.

Keep in mind, this is a challenge I never thought he’d overcome. I pictured him perpetually addicted to snack-stealing, destined for a lifetime of trouble. As many people on social media warned at the time, stealing food “would land him in jail.” People can be dramatic.

At the time, though, it didn’t feel dramatic. I read those comments and worried for my little guy. I never thought he could conquer that temptation. My assumption was that, with autism, impulse control would be unmanageable. Like running, it would be a social fear forever.

But it wasn’t. Lucas managed it. I see that now, though I remember how impossible it seemed back then.

These pages are full of challenges he once had but eventually overcame. Whether it was constantly falling asleep, waking up in the middle of the night, or haircuts, I’ve watched my boy prove time and time again that he’s capable of so much.

He doesn’t toot his own horn or sing his own praises. He’s the least squeaky wheel and grease is often allocated elsewhere. If attention isn’t paid, his achievements could easily go unnoticed.

One of the best pieces of advice I received when Lucas was first diagnosed was to track what your child does today. Then, in six months, look at how they’ve changed. Otherwise, you may never see it.

Ironically, without these pages here to remind me, I might forget that these problems ever existed. I’d be so caught up in today’s challenges that I wouldn’t remember how different yesterday’s were.

Those issues weren’t just major parts of our life. They were challenges Lucas eventually defeated.

And that gives me the assurance that, over time, he’ll defeat today’s challenges too.

That’s why it’s so important to remember what your children have been through and the concerns you once had. No one thinks about how their kid used to constantly try to run away in public…until they’re not doing it anymore, and it never crosses your mind. When they are running, though, it’s all you can think about.

Today’s obstacles will be tomorrow’s distant memories. My boy will beat them in due time. How do I know? I know because he already has.