I am back! After four months of healing from falling fourteen feet off a ladder and fracturing two vertebra and shattering my heel, I am beginning to reshape my life and getting back to writing on the Parenting Autism blog. My first professional step forward... many other steps taken (literally), with help of physical therapist, I am learning to re-walk.
While laying on the couch (my bed for eight weeks since I could not climb the stairs) my parenting plan of organic, whole foods and after-school activities like swimming, Lego club, art class, gymnastics, and karate exploded into hours of watching movies and eating cereal and toast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Our after school plan was simply:
1. Roll my walker with one foot while sitting on the bench, that clearly states "Warning DO NOT attempt to sit on seat while moving", from couch to front door.
2. Get coat on and open door.
3. Roll walker out on the front porch and sit in the frigged, Vermont Fall.
5. Wave at kids and moms that are helping Tristan and Dylan off the bus.
6. Kiss Tristan and Dylan.
7. Inquire about their school day; trying to pry-out more than what they ate for lunch.
8. Open door and roll back into our house while reminding the boys to pick-up their backpacks, coats, and shoes off the floor, so I can get back into the house.
9. Sit at the door, yelling, "I can't get through with your stuff all over the floor."
10. Roll through the living room dodging any dropped toys, books, food, and collapse on the couch.
The above mission would take me about forty-five minutes to execute. After an afternoon nap I would lift my head long enough to help Tristan and Dylan with homework-- no executive functioning plans on how we would set-up our afternoon, straight and simply-- survival.
At first, the voice inside my head screamed that I was ruining my children-- Tristan would slip into his old patterns of reciting entire movies and only eating Veggie Bootie and pepperoni, Dylan would not learn to read by the end of kindergarten, and Liam since he was only two (almost three) would turn into a swearing, punching, kicking preschooler with the corruption of Stars Wars and Harry Potter.
Well, I can report four months later that Tristan, Dylan, and Liam did not spiral down into children that were feared by me and every other person. Instead, Tristan learned how to put the dogs "away" in their crates (so, not to eat their food) and how-to pour cereal and milk into bowls. They all learned to put away their clothes, dress, bathe, and brush teeth independently. Liam learned to sleep next to me instead of with me.
And I learned more in the last four months about life than in my prior thirty-five years and I hope to scribble some of those thoughts to you.
Pause your life, right now. Take a deep breath into your soul. Thank yourself for all you have done and inquired. Be grateful that air can pass through your lungs and that you have this moment. Namaste.