For the last three years, we've had a therapist in our home 5 to 6 days a week. For the last two years, I've been schlepping The Boy up and down Fordham Road in the heat, sleet and snow - shoving him on one bus, dragging him off another. We've had therapists in our home as early as 9 in the morning and at times until 8 at night. We've rearranged work schedules, school schedules and personal schedules. Our lives have revolved around therapists.
Imagine: Your kid was up all night. You've had 3 maybe 4 hours of broken sleep. You manage to pull yourself out of bed and go to work. You're standing on a crowded platform train and strategizing how you will get a seat so you can get a few more minutes of sleep. But there are delays, you stand the whole way into the city and you get to work late. This throws your whole day off. You have a crappy day at work. Then on your way back home from work there are still train delays. You come home exhausted and irritated. All you want to do is peel off your clothes, take a hot relaxing shower, lay on your sofa and not talk to a single person other than your child and spouse - and only if absolutely positively necessary.This is what the last three years have been like for us.
Except - you can't do this because when you walk in the door, a therapist is there working with your kid. And you'll need to make yourself available to the therapist should they have a request or a question. Maybe they'll want to show you something new that your child just did and that new thing will become the bright spot of your otherwise crappy day. And you'll feel a little bit better. Exhausted, but better. And once the therapist leaves, you realize there's only enough time for a bath and a bedtime story. Your crappy day is done and the only person that makes you smile, is ready to go to sleep.
So yes, I'm nervous about what September will bring. But I'm looking forward to getting my home and privacy back. I'm looking forward to coming home from work, maybe taking The Boy out for a walk. I'm looking forward to picking him from school and not having to rush him to a therapy session - maybe we'll go to the museum, library or out for dinner; maybe we'll pick up The Husband from work. Or maybe, dare I say it: schedule a play date.
It doesn't really matter what we do, I'm looking forward to it being just us.