tuesdays are the new mondays

I must tell you, I am in Heaven. I begin this post in a parking lot.  Micheal is out of town and today felt like a marathon.

And now, I steal a moment of pure euphoric rest. My car is parked, a movie plays on the DVD player and Greyson, Parker and I all have shiny, happy, greasy, salty french fry fingers. I'm not really a Fast Food Restaurant and French fries on a Tuesday kind of gal. I try to eat healthy Monday through Friday but tonight I said, screw healthy, bring on the fries. I assume I'm PMS'ing because I just ate part of a ketchup packet in an attempt to quickly shovel fries into my mouth.



It's 74 degrees and there is a coolness in the air that smells like Fall, swirling steadily into my cracked window. The sky glows a midnight blue with charcoal gray clouds swirling in front of the sliver of the moon. Everyone is strapped in and contained. Quiet and happy. Someone remind me to do this much more often.


Back to back Behavior Therapy (9-12 and 1-4) makes for one incredibly long Tuesday at home. When Grey first paved the way in Behavior Therapy I was frightened. How much can one little 2 1/2 year old take? I felt cruel having him work so many hours doing ABA. But it's up to me to help when I can, and even to make it more fun when I can too.

Today we did part of our therapy at our favorite frog pond down the street from our home.

And Grey desperately needs ABA to navigate the world. And because of it, slowly Greyson...my Greyson comes back to me in little pieces.



Fleeting moments of magical eye contact. Happy. Unsolicited hugs. An understanding of the world I can see in his eyes. Parker receives about half as many hours as Grey does, and his programs aren't as demanding yet. 




Every time we go to our magical nook, we find new and hidden corners to explore.




Who's that Indian in my tee pee? It's me! It's me! Old Saturday night Live- remember? Now I guess it would be who's that Native American, I suppose.



We tried to go into the old house there to explore, but unfortunately it was closed... And don't bother trying to explain that to a two and four year old who don't really understand words much. Many tears. Open! Open! They both said pleadingly- numerous times. It broke my heart. Maybe someday we can just live there. Or at least stay in the tee pee.



The LOVE to play the old piano inside. Here we are last Tuesday.





And I watch him now, and I see him work his little now 4 year old butt off. And I smile...because my son showed me that he can work through anything...and he taught me-- If Greyson can do it, than I can too. That's often my Tuesday mantra.





Tuesdays are long but they really do go by fast, just like the phrase goes, The days are long but the years are short. Go get 'em today, Friend. If the day gets long, think of all the kids with Super powers and how hard they work. 

Love,

Chrissy

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