I Wake up to screams. He wants his special milk. While he sips, dress him for special education preschool. He still wears a diaper, and I struggle to change him as he lays there like a limp rag doll drinking from a sippy cup designed for a baby. I pay special attention to his clothing, avoiding things like shirt tags and sock hems. I get a special greeting, as he flaps his arms and nods his head, then sinks into my chest for cuddle time. Next comes hair and teeth, as I pay special attention to his aversions to these tasks. Spend some time feeding and dressing little brother, but not as much, since he is more independent. Trade spots with my husband so that I can dress. The day is planned with special care and consideration. Off to school and therapies, then back home to do chores and spend some special time with little brother. Time for school pick up at his special designated time and location. Snack time with special foods approved with his special quirks in mind. Encourage playtime with brothers so they can develop a special bond. Work on special tasks to help develop everyday life skills. A special dinner, spoon fed to to him, a calming bath after a 2 hour meltdown, and finally, bed. It is midnight, and I can only think of how special the day ended up being. He is almost 4 years old, and he said his first word today. As routine as this day was, it was also special. I cannot help but feel weary, drained, elated and hopeful. Tomorrow will be special too.
I wrote this several months back, and I thought I would share it with you. I can remember thinking as a young teenage girl... " I will NEVER lead a boring and mundane existence!" And you know what? I my life isn't anywhere near boring or mundane. :)