It is Sunday. That means sleep. Most Sundays we go to church so he sleeps most Saturday nights. Routine is everything. After Owen woke up he asked every few minutes when we were going to church. The reply was in a few hours. He wants my reply to be “in a little bit.” Routine is everything and that is routine. I sat there thinking about everything, every single thing. The tears fell down my face thinking about all the things I cannot change and the past that has been written in stone. He walked up to me and said, “happy happy” and proceeded to talk about the video he was watching. It was a picture with a yellow wall and a child. He said, “purple wall purple it’s purple.” My tears fell harder. How do you convince a child to say the right words when the reaction you make is what he is looking for? For years now he will say the wrong thing first, no matter what it is. He finally said, “you sad” after my tears wouldn’t stop. I said you’re right that’s a purple wall, knowing it wouldn’t help if I disagreed. I could feel a change in him as the day moved forward. I could tell he was trying to say the right words. Maybe my tears that I wasn’t crying for this moment helped to change the tide for another day. Time will tell. Everything felt like it was in slow motion to get to church but we got there. He told me he wanted to have his face painted, go down the slide, see the insect -it was a bounce house he didn’t go in, and hunt for Easter eggs with his friend. I told him as I told him last week they aren’t there now because Easter is over. He said in October. He’s plotting and planning for his days ahead. When we got home from church I gave him some new medicine. I talked to his doctor about trying to get him to take pills instead of always having to do liquids or shots when he has to take antibiotics or something else. He struggles with all of it and the older he gets it is even harder on him. I am trying different ways and his doctor suggested taking the pill in applesauce. This did not go over well. As soon as he realized there was a pill in it he started crying and told me he was angry and I needed to wipe the sad off his face. Now that all put the sad on my face. He told me, “I cry like a baby” and I cried like a baby hearing his words. I’m always thankful when he has words but this was hard on him and I was hoping that it would help him to make the connection for taking medicine. He wanted to drive by the depot so off we went hoping it would distract him from his “angry face.” We got to the depot and he was much happier and the “sad went bye bye.” And so was I. When we got home it was raining. He didn’t want to get out of the car. I made him go after several minutes and he ran to the front porch. I can’t wait until we have a garage. Moving won’t fix everything but it will surely help situations like this. Living in a house that is more than one story is difficult for him. Every floor has a feel, a motion, a sensory experience that makes him move in different ways and makes it difficult for him to process sometimes. He heard a noise in the floor as he walked and he had to go back over it five times before he could walk out of the room. He scrunched down the last time and he could finally move. The night ended with him asking to go to the “depot dentist” because he knew where she worked was close to the depot. He is back to judging me for what I eat and laundry on the bed so that will be steps we have to walk through. I was glad that he didn’t have a fourth meltdown because there was plenty. He fell asleep fast with a lot on his mind. I’m thankful for the song he sang to me when the tears were flowing and the song he put in my heart because of these moments. Find joy in the miracle of the day. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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