Owen said, “guess who’s coming”. I said, who. Owen replied, “the school bus”. I love when our conversations feel like he is telling me a story, connected to the moment. We were standing at the bus stop, after a rocky start to our morning. Owen didn’t want to get out of my bed, then he didn’t want the lights on, and he wanted to make a lot of noise about it all, but he was yelling about going to school the whole time; the bus was high on his list, too. He was happy once we got dressed. The lights have really been bothering him. I’m not sure what has changed, but his concern in the morning is the lights. I wish I knew why. It might be related to when our lights were out for most of a day, because someone hit an electric pole, near our house. But it almost feels like this is full circle, from when he was younger, wanting to dance in the shadows of darkness. When I picked Owen up after school he was full of words, as we headed home. I asked him if he wanted to go see the fish. His reply, “momma change her clothes on”. I asked it a little differently, do you want to go home, or see the fish; his answer was still the same. He wants for me to change to loungewear. He wants to make sure when we are home, we are home. As we are transitioning to summer this gets harder. He’s used to seeing me in winter attire; yoga pants, or sweatpants, and long sleeve shirts, generally. Well, yesterday I wore a tank top, absolutely no sleeves. The thin straps were almost too much for him to take. He kept lifting my shirt, yelling, “bewwee”. For some reason, him referencing belly, means I am supposed to change my shirt. If I have non-approved loungewear on he gets very upset. It took great progress for him to allow my tank top, but we got through it without a meltdown. That is a big step, bigger than huge, huger than huge. We made it. Now to transition to shorts. One victory at a time; I’ll save shorts for another rainy day. Celebrate your progress, celebrate ours. Each step forward is a step. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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