He left in the wee hours of the morning on Friday. At some ungodly hour. Which is why I told him not to wake us...
I regretted that later.
Off to celebrate the marriage of his youngest brother. Practically on the other side of the country. Louisiana. We've been there once. And that was enough!
My emotions were mixed.
On the one hand I wanted him to go. And celebrate. Eat. Drink. And be merry.
On the other hand. We have three kids. And I really don't think it's fair to count Trevy as just one. Because by golly...caring for him takes the same amount of energy as caring for five.
I sense that eyebrow raisage.
I know you think it's just me being dramatic. But cross my heart it's true. Ask Grams. Ask Miss. CNA. Ask Jonathan even...who has taken to lovingly calling Trevy our one year old three year old. They'll all assure you that behind that cute crooked smile and delicious curls and heart of a lion...is a little boy whose needs are utterly endlessly exhausting!
So if you honor the Trevy factor - that makes eight.
And because the selfish part of me clung to that fact I didn't want him to go.
But I let him. Without too much guilt tripping.
We survived. With tons of help from Grams. And friends who are always there to schlep Toby to various sporting events when we can't. And lots of fast food. And restless nights. And Toby getting bitten by "the bug". On the way home from a tournament. A tournament that was an hour away. An hour of which we were only half way through. When I happened to notice his blanching face in the rear view mirror. No sooner did I crank the wheel towards the shoulder than he lost his lunch all over the backseat. By the way...many thanks to one of his buddies for sharing that Chirico sub with him. Pleasant.
::smile::
But we survived.
Jonathan is floating on wind currents somewhere between here and Atlanta.
And I'm feeling kinda proud that we survived. Almost.
I may even kiss him hello before plopping two kids and The Trevy Factor on his lap so I can head immediately out for a private pedi/mani/massage followed by a trip to the Apple store where the perfect iPad is waiting just for you know who.
::smile::
I regretted that later.
Off to celebrate the marriage of his youngest brother. Practically on the other side of the country. Louisiana. We've been there once. And that was enough!
My emotions were mixed.
On the one hand I wanted him to go. And celebrate. Eat. Drink. And be merry.
On the other hand. We have three kids. And I really don't think it's fair to count Trevy as just one. Because by golly...caring for him takes the same amount of energy as caring for five.
I sense that eyebrow raisage.
I know you think it's just me being dramatic. But cross my heart it's true. Ask Grams. Ask Miss. CNA. Ask Jonathan even...who has taken to lovingly calling Trevy our one year old three year old. They'll all assure you that behind that cute crooked smile and delicious curls and heart of a lion...is a little boy whose needs are utterly endlessly exhausting!
So if you honor the Trevy factor - that makes eight.
And because the selfish part of me clung to that fact I didn't want him to go.
But I let him. Without too much guilt tripping.
We survived. With tons of help from Grams. And friends who are always there to schlep Toby to various sporting events when we can't. And lots of fast food. And restless nights. And Toby getting bitten by "the bug". On the way home from a tournament. A tournament that was an hour away. An hour of which we were only half way through. When I happened to notice his blanching face in the rear view mirror. No sooner did I crank the wheel towards the shoulder than he lost his lunch all over the backseat. By the way...many thanks to one of his buddies for sharing that Chirico sub with him. Pleasant.
::smile::
But we survived.
Jonathan is floating on wind currents somewhere between here and Atlanta.
And I'm feeling kinda proud that we survived. Almost.
I may even kiss him hello before plopping two kids and The Trevy Factor on his lap so I can head immediately out for a private pedi/mani/massage followed by a trip to the Apple store where the perfect iPad is waiting just for you know who.
::smile::
Comments
Hoping you are past 'almost' to complete survival by now, and that the Apple store was still open.
Barbara (both eyebrows unelevated)
Bethany...yikes! But you'll make it!
...danielle
It's work. A lot of work. Add two more kids in the mix? I don't know how you women do it. Jen does it a lot, takes both kids to her sister's (2.2 hours away). She's never had a night to herself since Bennett has been born I think. And yet she goes it alone without me again and again.
Women are mentally stronger than men, I don't care what the male dominated society thinks.
At any rate...
I think you "get" it in a way many can't. When you have a kid who on the surface looks SO typical...it's hard for others (even those with special circumstances) to wrap their minds around the pointing out of the deficits. Trevy's deficits are NOT mobility. They are cognitive. And probably because he's still SO young...it's hard for those deficits to be clearly seen. Unless you happen to be standing behind us in line at the local ice creamery...and notice me physically lifting him from his prone position multiple times...and preventing him from banging the garbage can flap over and over and over and over and over...and maybe try to ask him his name...and ask about the binky and leash...
Although many times even those things go unnoticed.
I worry often that people think I'm over stating things. Or that they see his cute face...which is REALLY cute...but in doing so they miss his needs. I think that's why I refer to his having half a brain so often. Because that's tangible. They can touch his scar if they don't believe me.
There's obviously a post in those thoughts somewhere. If I can ever find the time to gather them together in a way that makes sense.
...danielle
kt x
Ugh.
It's a post. Someday...
In the meantime...I'm dying to get my hands on another book "My Baby Rides the Short Bus"...just the intro I read on Amazon sold me!
...danielle
...danielle
I know the feeling!!! It's scary going it alone!!!
(And I am trying to make all of you guys feel sorry for me! Sniff Sniff!)
Cyndi