Thank you so much to anyone who has read my blog. I am struggling to find ways to share difficulties I have in my life while still being fair to my son. There’s so much I don’t want to write about just for the sake of “content” that I find myself too blocked to write anything. I am finishing Mums Highs and Lows and hope to be able found a new blog just about my writing.
I came home from town the other day, totally exhausted. We had followed his lead and done just a few chores. It was a very simple outing but I was on edge the whole time. The adrenal fatigue left me needing to lie down but there’s little chance of that unless I convince he needs to as well. Being in constant hyper vigilance depletes you but that is often the reality. Recent minor infractions while Mum tried to go to the bathroom
1. Wee thrown out of potty on the floor
2. Ripped book
3. Toy chucked out the window
4. Mega sketch toy stepped on and broken
This excellent blog explains what it can be like;
Headaches and strained necks. Not only does my son clamber into bed with me every morning (generally between 4 & 5) he also takes up a considerable amount of bed. If he is not jabbering away about washing machines (current favourite) he lays back, both arms behind his head like he is on a sun lounger. This leaves me cramped into half a foot for a couple of hours.
Sometime soon we will learn what school place, let it be sooner not later.
Worrying in the middle of the night is just one of the low points that I face as a mum.
You know if you get a thread on your clothes, you’ll get a letter? Everyone knows that, right?
There’s some lores that you just live by. This is one I have taken into my being and rewritten into my script so I really do believe it happens. As time goes on and I don’t receive post, I receive promotions (hello 20% off L’Occitaine) this lore has taken on a new level of significance. A thread means I will receive an important personal piece of mail. This week a very important and weighty letter came about A and I had been wondering what news was coming.
So do you just pay more attention to the coincidence of the event because you have seen a thread and made a connection to it? Or does little incidental magic exist? Somewhere in between probably.
We have been working double time to get everything unpacked, throwing out stuff we don’t need and panicking about the stuff we don’t have room for.
Little A has coped well with the help of WidgitOnline (such an amazing resource) and a social story. His grandparents looked after him for two days and prepped him well too.
They prewarned him what it would be like so he keeps telling me “still lots of boxes” and then last night “we need to tidy the boxes”. Everyone’s a critic!
My favourite echolalia of the moment…Bella Lasagne from original Fireman Sam “Mama Mia” offered today when I said “Mummy just going toilet”.
We have been in a whirlwind of decision-making since last Tuesday when finally finally finally we received the expected diagnosis. Apart from the few surprise tears as the paediatrician confirmed autistic spectrum disorder with sensory modulatory behaviour, I have felt relieved. Relieved to be believed, believed to be knowledgeable about our own child. Now it’s just a small matter of a new school nursery, new house and new world? Mama mia!
Somehow I end up dragged into a soft play this week and although it’s sunny, the little man is only just over his cold, and these places are like hell on earth I somehow agreed. (Mummy got played)
He loves the little ones area. It is intended for 2 and under but all the kids love it.
Little man loves pressing the button to make the balls whizz round a tube. Well, two six year old girls threw me some serious shade. He had pressed the button before they wanted. They slammed their balls to the ground and scowled at me spectacularly.
As usual he needs a few prompts to get up on the big person section . I tempt him up, sitting on the step. He has been here before but always needs to be reminded how you get around. Up I go to relieve his anxiety, he looks at me and says, “Mummy going down the stairs”. Top communication skills there; I know when I’m not wanted.
He did let me come and play in our favourite part: the lights room. Can’t beat a bit of sensory experience to make my little man happy.