Things have been kind of quiet on my blog lately, I know. Let me assure you, that’s far from the case in our offline life! There are probably a dozen or more half-composed posts in my head and a smattering more in my drafts; life has been moving too fast for me to collect my thoughts, my words and my energy at the same time to bring everyone up to speed.
Suffice to say, school is not great but it’s not entirely awful, either; it’s just not a good fit. Everyone recognizes it and we’re working to remedy the situation as soon as possible. Meanwhile, there are sensory and behavioral ramifications to the poor fit— all of which have kept Niksfamily hopping.
We’re still fighting too many sleepless nights and dysregulated days, wondering about possible metabolic causes and going through multiple rounds of blood-letting blood tests. Toss into the mix a bout of bronchitis and an ear infection which have just cropped up and, well, yeah. Exactly.
Somehow, though, if I look closely enough, I can see the glimmers of progress amidst the chaos of dysregulation and I am left stunned, speechless and in complete awe of my child.
Yesterday, the worst of the illness was taking hold and my little one was a mess. His fever spiked to 103F as he sat on the sofa, restless and uncomfortable.
Nik: Fix, Mama. Fix.
Me: Fix what, baby? Your toy? (Nik always brings his broken toys or the ones which need new batteries to me and I tell him “Mama will fix it, sweetie.”)
Nik: (Vigorous head shaking to indicate no.)
Me: Your music? Do you want Mama to sing for you, lovey?
Nik: (More vigorous head shaking accompanied by pathetic whining and tears now) Fix, Mama.
Me: Oh, baby, I wish I knew what you need me to fix. I want to fix it, I do.
Nik: Fix. Fix. Fix (reaching near-hysteria and beginning some mild self-harm)
I gathered my boy onto my lap, cradling his hot little head in the crook of my neck so he wouldn’t see my tears of frustration. His speech device tumbled onto the sofa next to him. He squirmed in my arms; I thought he was just trying to get comfortable. He leaned over and dragged his talker onto his slender legs.
Fix. Ear. Fix, Mama. Doctor.
Words I had begun to think I might never hear. I’m not sure, but I think my heart filled to overflowing before it shattered.