I ask for hope. I pray for hope. I seek hope. We want something that keeps us looking for a brighter tomorrow. Sometimes that means being still and listening to our own soul. Owen was awake at three. And I know because I heard screaming. It wasn’t his real scream, it was his fake scream. There is a difference. His fake scream is one he has learned and now is mimicking exactly what he hears. And he does it constantly. It’s like a cross between a scream and a soliloquy. Almost like he is needing to express his feelings through a poem that tells the story only by screaming. I told him that we were going to a new doctor and we were going to grandma’s house so that we could all ride together. This immediately started him thinking we were going to “uncle wichard’s house.” At this point, we had about an hour until we needed to leave. And at this point, it meant everything that I put into action had an opposite and equal reaction for Owen. I had set out extra clothes to take for him and things like his tablets, charging cords, and snacks. I need a zippered bag. Anything and everything that I put down or in the bag he put away or he put someplace else that wasn’t obvious to me so off I went looking. He didn’t want anything on my bed and I still can not figure out why my bed has become a problem for him or why he needs to stick food under the pillows in the living room. It’s all a mystery to me that I’m trying to get him to focus on so I can help him through it. We were able to get out the door about five minutes later than I planned but it still felt like pretty good timing. We got to my mom’s and we quickly started our journey. Owen asked a couple of times about “uncle wichard’s house” and we told him we weren’t going today. He then would bring up “uncle wichard’s vacuum.” “Wanna vacuum,” he said. I’m not sure why he decided he needed his vacuums but he asks about them all the time. I told him we could look at them the next we went. Before our appointment, we ate breakfast and when we walked into the restaurant Owen immediately pointed out to everyone he saw if they were wearing blue pants or not. It gets hard knowing that he will tell everyone he sees about this. Plus, we drove about three hours to the appointment, his routine for the day was completely gone, and he didn’t get to see his teacher or therapists. This was already going to be hard on him. We got to our appointment and I had hope. Owen was happy because our intake person was in blue pants but he was not happy because the doctor was in grey pants. This led to a very complicated evaluation where he pretty much the whole time was screaming or telling the doctor she had to leave because she had the wrong pants on. I want to cry. It is so incredibly hard on my baby. From there we had no answers. No changes or anything different for his sleep because we are trying everything anyone has suggested to us before and the only other recommendations were to see other specialists for his behaviors. Plus a whole lot of screaming. He kept asking for “the man that cares blue pants” as we were in the room for the doctor to come back with our follow-up papers. We left there and when we got back in the car my mom had found a Spider-Man blanket for him when she went to one of the stores nearby. He was very excited about it. We got back on the road for home. “No internet please ask your mom or dad for help,” he said as he once again turned off the wifi connection. He handed me the tablet and I selected the wifi one more time. He learned this phrase from one of his apps that always tells the kids to check with their parents. When we got home I talked to him about our day and I explained that if he kept yelling at people about their pants we wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. I had laundry sitting in a basket and he wanted me to put the pants in the hamper. I explained that I was going to put them in the dresser. There were black pants in the mix and I told him I was going to wear them tomorrow. He then asked me about my camo pants. I told him I might wear them tomorrow and he said, “next time.” He was ready to go to sleep almost as soon as we got home but he had too much playing to do. He ate a big dinner of the requested pizza and it didn’t take long until it was the real “nighttime” that he had been talking about all day. He asked me if I was going to pick him up on Thursday for his therapy. I explained that tomorrow was Friday and it made me sad that he missed his favorite day’s routine but at least he gets to go to school tomorrow. I learned a lot and even though I have no answers I will take this experience from today and grow. Push through the challenges and open your heart to the beauty in this world. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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