If a scream was an echo I heard it numerous times this morning. Anxiousness set heavily on Owen’s heart and he was ready for his day to be exactly like it should be immediately when he woke up. He slept all night but woke up in a mood. Every single thing was up for debate even though I was not debating anything. The screaming to wake the world is not my favorite thing. I finally got him calmed down with our breathing exercises and he started talking about next Saturday, not this Saturday, so I got him focused on today through this Saturday.
He asked to go to Diehl’s on Saturday. I told him we would have to ask Grandma and I told him he could text her. He then started screaming “No Diehl’s.” I told him that it was fine if he didn’t want to go but he was the one who suggested it so he didn’t need to scream about it. Once again we went through our calm down exercises. The screaming is so emotional. With his processing and communication skills, they are not always where he can explain it to me to get his point across so the screaming begins.
The bus app was not working so this probably made him a little happier because I make sure we go out extra early so he doesn’t miss the bus. It was “trash day trash day” so he knew he had to help me with the bags first. He has learned so much through this process but it isn’t a matter of my saying to him pick up the bag and let’s go out the door. He will get to the point where he can do it on his own but it is not a quick process for him to learn. There are so many steps to just one bag of trash.
The bus came and went with a very happy Owen. Thankfully by the time the bus got there, he was still in a focused mood but excited to be going to school. I know he had a lot on his mind because today was a big day for him after school. His physical therapist returned from “eternity leave” and he couldn’t wait. He was concerned with what she “generally wears,” using a phrase he has heard me say over and over, and if she was still going to have “lon yellow blon beautiful hair.”
Pre-cancer I had long blonde hair albeit mine was from a bottle, Owen didn’t know that. When he was little my hair had to be just so and there was no changing it. No pulling it back, no hats, no clips, no changes at all, or the meltdowns would roll through our house like a thunderstorm that couldn’t escape being in a cove. If I moved my hair from one side of my body to the other he would come screaming from the other side of the room. He didn’t have the words or communication skills to express any of his emotions so it was hard for him. My heart would sink knowing how hard just moving my hair out of my eyes would be for him.
To say he was happy to have routine back is probably a big understatement. I picked him up from school and talked with his teacher for a couple of minutes. I love hearing about his day and the things they do. He was full of stories and asking about the days ahead on the way to his therapy. His big question still remained as to how his therapist would look. I talked to him about change and that I knew it was hard but seeing the people we like is more important than what they are wearing. I know he struggles with that because he has these snapshot pictures in his head of how people should look.
We got there and he wanted to “sit on the steps you can sit on the steps.” I told him that as soon as I called to let them know he was there he could sit on the steps to wait. It wasn’t long and his speech therapist came to get him. He was so happy to have all three sessions. When his physical therapist brought him back out she said he did great with her. She took it slow because she could tell he was overwhelmed with seeing her again. Thankfully he was able to handle what she was wearing and then did some of the exercises. And she looked exactly the same.
When we came home he got a little upset because our neighbor sidetracked us for a few minutes talking before we could go inside. He was calm and happy to be home so he could stay home, go to school tomorrow, stay home, and see his grandma on Saturday and not go to Diehl’s unless he does want to go to Diehl’s. We ate our dinner and watched some videos.
The morning screams had faded and he became Laughy McLaugherson all night long. His silliness and laughter filled the air mixed in with a few serious talks about people and places. When bedtime called he said, “Mommy love laughing like a boy” and I told him I loved to hear his laugh because it made my heart happy. I tucked into bed and we said our prayers. I love it when I walk to my bedroom and from his room he says “Goodnight sweet boy I love you goodnight mommy I love you.” I say, “Goodnight sweet boy I love you” and he replies, “Amen.” Let the challenges you face be softened by the knowledge that you are not alone. Smiles to all and donut daze!
He asked to go to Diehl’s on Saturday. I told him we would have to ask Grandma and I told him he could text her. He then started screaming “No Diehl’s.” I told him that it was fine if he didn’t want to go but he was the one who suggested it so he didn’t need to scream about it. Once again we went through our calm down exercises. The screaming is so emotional. With his processing and communication skills, they are not always where he can explain it to me to get his point across so the screaming begins.
The bus app was not working so this probably made him a little happier because I make sure we go out extra early so he doesn’t miss the bus. It was “trash day trash day” so he knew he had to help me with the bags first. He has learned so much through this process but it isn’t a matter of my saying to him pick up the bag and let’s go out the door. He will get to the point where he can do it on his own but it is not a quick process for him to learn. There are so many steps to just one bag of trash.
The bus came and went with a very happy Owen. Thankfully by the time the bus got there, he was still in a focused mood but excited to be going to school. I know he had a lot on his mind because today was a big day for him after school. His physical therapist returned from “eternity leave” and he couldn’t wait. He was concerned with what she “generally wears,” using a phrase he has heard me say over and over, and if she was still going to have “lon yellow blon beautiful hair.”
Pre-cancer I had long blonde hair albeit mine was from a bottle, Owen didn’t know that. When he was little my hair had to be just so and there was no changing it. No pulling it back, no hats, no clips, no changes at all, or the meltdowns would roll through our house like a thunderstorm that couldn’t escape being in a cove. If I moved my hair from one side of my body to the other he would come screaming from the other side of the room. He didn’t have the words or communication skills to express any of his emotions so it was hard for him. My heart would sink knowing how hard just moving my hair out of my eyes would be for him.
To say he was happy to have routine back is probably a big understatement. I picked him up from school and talked with his teacher for a couple of minutes. I love hearing about his day and the things they do. He was full of stories and asking about the days ahead on the way to his therapy. His big question still remained as to how his therapist would look. I talked to him about change and that I knew it was hard but seeing the people we like is more important than what they are wearing. I know he struggles with that because he has these snapshot pictures in his head of how people should look.
We got there and he wanted to “sit on the steps you can sit on the steps.” I told him that as soon as I called to let them know he was there he could sit on the steps to wait. It wasn’t long and his speech therapist came to get him. He was so happy to have all three sessions. When his physical therapist brought him back out she said he did great with her. She took it slow because she could tell he was overwhelmed with seeing her again. Thankfully he was able to handle what she was wearing and then did some of the exercises. And she looked exactly the same.
When we came home he got a little upset because our neighbor sidetracked us for a few minutes talking before we could go inside. He was calm and happy to be home so he could stay home, go to school tomorrow, stay home, and see his grandma on Saturday and not go to Diehl’s unless he does want to go to Diehl’s. We ate our dinner and watched some videos.
The morning screams had faded and he became Laughy McLaugherson all night long. His silliness and laughter filled the air mixed in with a few serious talks about people and places. When bedtime called he said, “Mommy love laughing like a boy” and I told him I loved to hear his laugh because it made my heart happy. I tucked into bed and we said our prayers. I love it when I walk to my bedroom and from his room he says “Goodnight sweet boy I love you goodnight mommy I love you.” I say, “Goodnight sweet boy I love you” and he replies, “Amen.” Let the challenges you face be softened by the knowledge that you are not alone. Smiles to all and donut daze!
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