“Your husband spends hours, days getting ready for his annual hunting trip. Researching the perfect location where he will get that prize buck. He spends so much 💲💲 every year on new gear and tags you want to cry. There went that new Kitchen Aid you wanted. But he assures you that it’s a good investment because he’ll bring meat home to feed the family all winter.”
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“When our son was almost 5, he suddenly would have days where he would sleep 20 hours in a day. I would wake him up and take him to Preschool for 2 hours, pick him up with a sippy cup of milk and something to eat and in the 10 minute drive home he would be asleep. He would sleep until about 5 be awake for 2 hours and be out for the night. He’d have 2 1/2 days of this and then his sleep would go back to normal for awhile and then we’d get another few days of sleepiness.”
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Every morning I wake my son up at 5:45 am and push him to hurry, hurry, hurry. He needs to be able to make the bus at 6:45 am. Mornings are not his thing. Hurrying is almost impossible for him to do. At least it seems that way, and I’ve had various teachers and therapists nod their heads in agreement.
This morning as I snuck back to bed while he was in the shower for a few minutes, the thought that pressed on my mind was, “I need to tell him to hurry up. He’s already been there for 20 minutes.”
But then I stopped. There was singing in the shower. He was happy. He was calm.
This is not something that usually happens during our mornings. He’s not happy and singing. He’s moving like a sleepy turtle that can barely walk and often refuses to head into the shower.
I looked at the clock. He had 30 minutes until the bus came. I could give him 10 more minutes in the shower. He had time. I could calm down my urge to make him rush.
Those of us with children with Special Needs often find we are rushing them. Trying to make appointments, trying to make developmental milestones, trying desperately to get everything accomplished we need to in the very short 24 hours we are given.
Today made me pause. It made me say to myself, “Breathe. It’s been a good week. It’s okay to take your time this morning. He’s going to make it.” I don’t do that enough.
For this morning,
Brought to you by the children of An Ordinary Mom.
