I took Owen to the doctor yesterday; he has an ear infection. We are home once again until he can go back to school, but all he wants to do is to go anywhere. He’s asked to go to all of his favorite places. And when I mean asked, I mean every five seconds. As soon as the words are out of his mouth he asks again. Distraction is a fine art that doesn’t really work with him. I have tried to convince him that we want to talk about something else, and that works for a minute, but then the words start up again. We’ve played games, worked on his school apps, and had lots of cuddle time, but his repeated words are what he clings to. The only thing that really stops him is when I do something that he doesn’t want me to do; like laundry. I was trying to sort things that no longer fit him. Every time I moved an article of clothing he would start squealing, in his voice I could hear a meltdown forming. I stopped for a few minutes, trying to work with him on something else, but his only concern was me sitting, leaving the laundry far away. I left it for awhile. When I went back to it, his anxiety was even worse; yelling “nopedy nope no pants”. As much as he wants to go places today, he also needs the order in what we are doing. We are home, and I didn’t say we were going anywhere, so me moving clothes means we are supposed to go someplace, but without my words telling him we are going someplace clothes are not supposed to be touched. There are home looks, and there are outside looks. I have to be the picture he needs to see. I have a shirt on that almost didn’t pass the test today. It’s a long sleeve shirt, but the sides are much shorter than the front, and the back. The side of my shirt rests right on the top of my pants. I feel like the kid, and my parent is telling me to go change my clothes, because Owen will yank on the side of my shirt trying to make it come further down over my pants. One night Owen had gotten sick, I had to change my clothes. It took me three pairs of shorts, and two pants before he calmed down enough to let me wear something. And this isn’t a matter of telling him to get over it, and us move on, this is him screaming, and upset for hours if he can’t find a calm inside himself with his surroundings. This is when I feel like my brain has to become an octopus, telling myself to put the right clothes on, rapid firing questions to him to distract him from the meltdown he is about to have, holding him to bring him comfort, trying to maintain my emotions, and several other things, to keep the meltdowns at bay. Breathe, I tell myself. So the laundry awaits, and that’s fine. We are both learning, finding our way, and together we will keep moving forward. Take one day at a time, and breathe. Smiles to all and donut daze!
RSS Feed