Why Can't Every Weekend Be a Three Day Weekend?

Wouldn't it be amazing if every weekend was a three day weekend? 

If corporate work weeks for low level employees like me could have a four day work week? At the same pay rate. (Obviously...)

It's Tuesday and I went to work. Yesterday was President's Day and I had the day off. A wonderful three day weekend.

As a full-time working (outside the home) mom, I feel like I'm constantly playing catch up. Now that school has started, my time is even more limited. 

But when I have a three day weekend - I feel like I get soooo much done. 

Like all the laundry. I even folded it. And I set up The Boy's outfits for the week.  

I went to the supermarket and Target. I even cooked a meal or two. 

I cleaned and organized. 

I wrote a post that made me all teary and sentimental. I got to read an A M A Z I N G book and it made me cry the ugly cry.  

I took the time to just be a mom.

We even took The Boy for a pony ride. He liked it! He really liked it! 

I even wasted a few seconds on that WeeMee nonsense. I'm not gonna lie - I think mine came out super cute. Way better than I'm looking these days...she even got to go to Paris.

And then today the madness started all over again. The tooth brush battle (The Boy fights me every morning). The rushing to get out the door. Fighting my way through the D train crowd. Trying to get through emails and setting up meetings. Then rushing back home, hoping to get to the gym - only to sit on a delayed 6 train for half an hour. So that by the time I got home, I was so hungry and cranky I skipped the gym. So just I cooked dinner. And maybe I'll wash the dishes before I go to sleep. Or I'll leave them for the morning.

When it all starts over again... 

What 4am At Our Home Looks Like

It's 4:49 am. And we've been up since 3:55. It's Monday. So today should be really fun.

Some morning when The Boy wakes this early, I lay in bed with one eye open. And when the alarm goes off at 5 am, I put the snooze button to work. This morning, I couldn't do it. 

And like the saying experienced moms like to tell new moms, "Sleep when the baby sleeps" - I wake when The Boy wakes. 

I've washed last night's dishes. I took these snazzy pictures & tweaked them on my iPhone. And now I'm going to have a cup of coffee while I put the final touches on an article that's due later today.

So what does 4am look like in our place?  

Coffee waiting to be brewed. Dishes in sink waiting to be washed.
Laptop open & ready to go.

And while I washing the dishes this is what The Boy was doing! 

And as I'm typing this, the Boy sits beside me. Puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Hey Momma. What's up?" and then kisses my cheek. And maybe just maybe I swooned a little bit.

Happy Monday!

Feels Good To Be Glam #MaryKayGlam

I can't tell you how often people tell me:  You look really tired.   As if I didn't know.  As if I didn't look in the mirror every day.  As if my tube of under eye concealer goes untouched.  As if the exhaustion is fighting its way through my make up.


But truth be told - I look tired, because I am tired.  I don't get much sleep.  (Just see the labels - Lack of Sleep or Exhaustion.)   


And even though, I go through the motions of applying under eye concealer, pressed powder, blush and painting on enhancing my eye brows.  And on a good day - curling my lashes and brushing on mascara.  I stop there.  


Even though I am a lover of lipstick.  I don't take the two extra seconds to put it on.  I apply clear lip balm to keep my lips from chapping.  But lipstick?  Not really.


And my reasons are silly.  Usually, I just forget.  Or I think, it will just come off while drinking my coffee.  I'll have to reapply it when I get to work or after lunch.  I think - what's the point?  Or - who am I trying to impress?  As if looking in the mirror and impressing myself is not reason enough to make the effort.


But it's amazing what a little lipstick can do?  


While attending the LATISM Top Blogueras Retreat, we were all pampered by the fabulous ladies of Mary Kay.


And we clustered around the Mary Kay Beauty Bar, giddy with girly excitement, trying on glosses - ohhing and ahhing over the products.  Every bloguera left with a sweet swag bag of Mary Kay products.  


I'll be honest, I've never used Mary Kay in my life.  But once I tried on their Rock n' Red
lip gloss - I was hooked.

photo courtesy of Latina Bloggers Connect
Mary Kay nourishine plus lip gloss in Rock n' Red

  
It felt light and natural.  It wasn't sticky - which I love.  And the best part?  It made me feel better about how I looked.
        



au naturel - not wearing a stitch of make up
#MaryKayGlam - feeling fab in Mary Kay nourishine plus lip gloss in Cream and Sugar

  Will a smear of lip gloss take away the exhaustion?  Probably not.  But if I can look in the mirror and feel a little bit brighter and a little less worn out - that's good enough for me.  

I think as moms - especially as special needs moms - we put ourselves last.  We forget to make the effort.  We forget to put on the pretty dress that's hanging in the closet with the tags still on because we're saving it for a special occasion.  We forget to put on some blush or lip gloss or paint our nails or brush our hair (please someone agree with me, don't let me the only one...) because we're always running someplace, because we have a never ending to do list.  As moms, we make sure our kids have everything they need while we walk around looking like a hot mess.  (Or is it just me, that's a hot mess on most days?) 
So ever since coming back from DC, I've been taking those 2 extra seconds to apply a little lip gloss. Because the person I'm trying to impress, is me.  And I've decided I'm worth the effort.
What will YOU do to feel glam?

 Disclaimer: I was not compensated for this post.  I was provided with complimentary Mary Kay products, the opinions expresses are my own.  

Party Like an ASD Rock Star

Ever wonder what goes on at 3:30 am?  

Legos...

Duh!  

Norrin using his pretend play skills to recreate a scene from Disney Pixar Cars: Mac, Wingo, DJ, Boost & Snot Rod.  (Yes, even sleep deprived & super crabby I needed to take a picture.) 

the LITTLE things are a BIG deal #3

Post #3 for the LITTLE things are a BIG deal meme.  It's easy to link up and share your story. [copy/paste the button (above) in your post or sidebar.  Refer to my blog in your post & link to my current "the LITTLE things are a BIG deal" post. Link your post with Linky Tools.] For information click HERE.  You do not have to be a special needs parent to link up.  AutismWonderland is a community.  And I want to celebrate your every day wonderful moments with you.

*

Life as a full-time working mom/part-time grad student is pretty stressful.  There is always an appointment to make, a paper to write and laundry to fold.   And while The Husband and I have an 'equal' partnership, the majority of the housework falls on me.  When The Boy is sick, that's my responsibility too.  It's just the way that it is.  Not only for me, but for a lot of working mothers.


Don't get me wrong, The Husband does help.   I just do more.  And when I complain talk about it with my mother, she scoffs "Well, that's your job as The Wife."


And I guess there is a part of me that agrees with this because I do the food shopping, cleaning and cooking. I do the laundry sorting, washing, folding and putting away. 


And as exhausting as all this is, I don't mind it.  (Not really.)  It's all part of taking care of my family.  And because I love them, I want to do everything I can for them.  


But on days when I come home from work, tired and worn out from the commute and dinner is ready.  Or the dishes are washed.


All those Tuesday nights (for the last 3 years), when I walk out of class and The Husband is there, waiting to drive me home.  And The Boy is already bathed and homework completed.  


I make sure to say "Thank You."  


Thank you for making dinner.  


Thank you for washing the dishes. 

Thank you for picking me up.  
  
And The Husband will say, "Why are you thanking me?  It's no big deal." 


And then I have to explain it to him.  


It is no big deal to him. But it's a big deal to me.  


When The Husband washes the dishes, it's one less thing I need to do.  I have a little more time in the evening, I could read another story to The Boy.  I could take an extra 10 minutes to relax.  A sink without dishes makes my life just a little bit easier.  


A 1o minute car ride home from school, rather than taking a 45 minute bus/train ride - gets me home faster, calmer, safer.  And knowing that The Boy is ready for bed, I can come home after a long day and just relax.


Maybe The Husband thinks along the lines of my mother and me.  Maybe he assumes it's part of his job as The Husband.


But the truth is, we don't have to do anything.  These are the little things we choose to do for each other.      
      

I Need(ed) a Time Out

I haven't posted a blog in over a week.  I haven't read any of my favorite blogs.  (I've missed you.) I haven't spent much time on Facebook or Twitter.  And I haven't sent out any emails unless absolutely necessary. 

I still have 2 short stories to work on for one of my classes.  I still have one last book to read. My last day of class is Tuesday.  And Tuesday can't come fast enough. 

This semester. Kicked. My. Butt.  

I purposely missed registration for next semester. I'm only 4 classes away from graduating with an MFA. But I'm going to take a semester off.  I'm trying to tell myself that I'm not quitting or dropping out.  I just need the break.  I know that I'm too close not to finish.  There are just other things going on that need my attention.

Yesterday, we took The Boy to see another developmental pediatrician - we're trying to get another evaluation done.  And start the headache of the medicaid waiver.  The doctor also asked if The Boy is on medication.  He isn't.  I know it's a conversation we may need to have.  But that's for a whole other blog post. 

Do you know there are only 15 days until Christmas Eve?  We haven't put a tree.  Waiting until next weekend for that.  We just started our holiday shopping.  Will I send out cards?  I'm still undecided.  But even if I don't send out cards, it's not that I don't like you.  I just didn't have time this year. 

I don't know about you but we LOVE watching Charlie Brown's Christmas. 

"I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel." ~  Charlie Brown

*

Play along! Don't know how?  Check out Mrs. 4444 at Half Past Kissin Time for more Friday Fragments.

There May Be Hope For The Sleep Deprived

 

See it's really National Sleep Comfort Month and there's a whole article about how to celebrate.  HA! As if I needed an article to figure how to celebrate...

How will you celebrate National Sleep Comfort Month?

The Witching Hour

The Boy wakes at 3 am for the second day in the row.  And when he wakes in the middle of the night, it's often after midnight, usually between 3 - 4 am. The Boy wakes with giddy excitement.  Ready to play.  Turning on lights.  Pulling out books to read.  Singing songs.  Dumping his legos or magnet letters out of their bins, clattering on the hard wood floor.  He is talking, giggling, making eye contact.  He uses 6 - 8 word phrases, pronoucing every word clearly.  He, in fact, does so well that I often want to praise him for "good talking."  I do not.  

And on these nights that he wakes, I am up.  Sometimes letting him play, laying in his bed or in mine with one eye open.  Mindful that at any moment, he could run into the kitchen or open the front door. And other times coaxing him back to his bed.   

Is it the change of routine that sets this off?  Is it the quiet of the night? I have no idea. 

What are your kids up to in the Witching Hour? 

All You Need Is 10 Minutes

The Boy had me up at 3 am this morning.  I am not even half way through my day.  I.  Am. Tired.  There's another word that I can put between Am and Tired but I try not to be a potty mouth on my blog.  I was supposed to write my blog post on the train this morning.  But I was nestled in between two strangers.  And I'll admit - the extra body heat was just what I need to take a little train nap.  Complete with my head rolling, dreaming and maybe just maybe a little bit of drool.

So needless to say, not a blog post was written this morning.  But it was supposed to be on motivation.  I had a discussion with The Husband over the weekend and I had this whole post written in my mind.  Anyway, I'll just cut to the chase.  

Motivation.  If you want to do something.  You do it.  We all don't have 3 hours a day to do what we want or love to do.  I certainly do not.  But every day I give myself at least 10 minutes.  Don't believe me?  

This post took me 10 minutes.  

Have you taken 10 minutes for yourself today?  

 

We are what we repeatedly do. 

Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.

Aristotle



www.planetofsuccess.com



I Needed To Snooze Just A Little Bit Longer

Yesterday morning at 5 am, I jumped out of bed, showered, wrote a quick post while drinking my morning cup of coffee and made pasta so that I can make lunch for The Husband and myself. 

This morning?  Completely different story.  The alarm went off at 5 am and instead of waking up, I walked into the bathroom (because that's where I keep my alarm clock) and hit snooze.  I snoozed for about an hour.  And I would have loved nothing more than to keep right on snoozing.

But I had to wake up and get ready for work.  Get The Boy ready for school.  Make the beds and clean up a bit so that when my mother comes over later she doesn't yell at me for leaving the apartment in a complete disaray.  Yes, at 36 years old I still live in fear of having my mother yell at me. 

Last night I started a blog post about the importance of family in our lives.  But then I looked at my syllabus for the semester and realized, I am way behind on my work. I have at least 2 short stories to write - one for each class.  I'm taking American Gothic Literature and a Fiction Writing workshop.  A ton of reading to do catch up on.  And a presentation paper to start.

I've been struggling a lot with school lately.  More so than usual.  It's not easy, working full time, being a mom and a graduate student.  I'm tired of doing it.  There are nights when I sit in class, listening to the kids talk about how busy they are, I just want to laugh.  So many of them work part-time, are single and without kids.  They don't have a clue.  And there are nights when I sit in class, thinking about The Boy and everything going on in our lives that talking about the symbolism in Poe's The Black Cat seems pointless.  I'm a different kind of student.  Don't get me wrong, I care and I want to do well.  I'm just in a different place. 

So last night, I really started thinking about fiction writing and I began working on my short stories.  This is what a got so far ~

Gothic:  The black water of the Bronx River...

Fiction:  On the nights that I woke up screaming...

I actually wrote more than this but I obviously I can't post it all here.  And this morning instead of sleeping on the downtown D, I wrote.  And one short story for my fiction workshop is almost complete.  And I have an idea of how to approach my presentation. 

So instead of writing something sappy and meaningful about how much the help of my family means to me, you get this.

This Too Shall Pass

There are days when I just try to keep my head above water.



And days when I feel like I am drowning. 



But I know that I will emerge, stronger than before.




*photos from Flickr: Creative Commons

To Blog or Not To Blog

When I walked out of The Boy's school this afternoon, I wanted  to write a follow up to this.

But I won't.  Right now, I just don't feel comfortable writing about anything - good or bad. 

According to my blog stats my words have been viewed 40,862 times.  By friends, friends of friends, therapists, family, even strangers.  And lately, some of the people reading are over at The Boy's school.  I didn't think much of it, until this morning.  When I caught a glimpse of my AutismWonderland header tucked inside a folder labeled with The Boy's name. And the folder belonged to the woman I met with.

If it's one thing I've learned about writing is that it's subjective. And writing a blog, so personal, leaves my family vulnerable. Words can be easily misconstrued and opinions may be formed. 

I really realized this when a statement was made about my kitchen.  Huh?  Rewind to this "Wordless Wednesday" - photos compliments of Flickr Creative Commons. (Because when it comes to taking pictures, I kind of suck.) Ergo, not my real kitchen.  Not my real living room.  Not my real desk.  And definitely not my real laundry room - I don't even have a laundry room (but a gal can dream can't she).  And let's be for real, those of you that really know me and know Carmen (aka my mother) know that she would not stand for that kind of mess. 

I started this blog as part of a class project and during that semester, I was told 2 things: 

1. In order for a blog to be successful, you need to be consistent; and  
2. Latina writers have a harder time becoming published.

I've been writing this blog for 1 year and 2 weeks.  And I'm wondering: what kind of success am I trying to achieve?   

As for being published...well, that's kind of pushed to the back burner too.  And honestly, our family journey with autism is no more special than the next families.  Our struggles and our joys are no different.  I may be a good writer, but there's a whole lot of other really good, great, fantastic writers out there. 

So what is the point of this?  And is it worth the risk?     

It will take 2 seconds for this blog to be deleted forever.  But just as one woman pressed print, how many others have done so?  My words are out there.  Whether they've helped or harmed, I can't take them back.

I want The Boy to really have a chance.  And he's being offered one.  I don't ever want my words, opinions, thoughts or emotions to get in the way of that.         

You Know You're Doing Too Much When

Your kitchen starts to look like this

 

And your living room resembles

 

 You have months of paperwork & bills that you need to sort through

And your Friday & Saturday nights look like this...

 

instead of this.

 

And your Saturday & Sunday afternoons are spent here

 

When you really want to take your kid here

 

The thing about trying to do it all, is that you really can't.  I'm learning that this week.

 

 It's exhausting.  I need to start slowing down.

How do YOU know when you're doing too much? 

Dream Catcher (Weighted Blankets) Giveaway!

If you've been following us for a while, you know that we don't get much sleep.  The Boy tosses and turns, wakes up often, staying up for hours and almost always finding his way into our bed.

It's exhausting.  I'm exhausted.   

Anyway a few weeks ago after a FB status update proclaiming another sleepless night...the amazing woman behind Dream Catcher Weighted Blankets reached out to me.  And she was sweet enough to offer The Boy a complimentary weighted blanket.  (I had been thinking about buying a weighted blanket but not sure whether or not it would be helpful.)

The weighted blanket sent to us is well made, durable, comfortable and a beautiful bright blue (they come in an assortment of colors, sizes and fabrics).  I was really impressed with it.    

Now that we've been using the weighted blanket for about a month, I'm happy to say that it's really made a difference.  We use it throughout the day.  If The Boy's sitting in his beanbag reading a book.  At night, when I'm reading The Boy a bedtime story.  Sometimes I roll it up like log and place it over his lap or wrap it around his shoulders while he's sitting on the sofa watching TV.  And there are times when The Boy isn't using it, that I like to snuggle up with it, it really is relaxing.   

The Boy still wakes up in the middle in the night.  But on the nights he does, he's not as frantic, running around wildly.  He'll walk into our room, climb into bed and go back to sleep.   (That's fine with me, so long as I still get my sleep.)  And sometimes, The Boy will bring his weighted blanket with him.

For more information on the Dream Catcher Blankets click on the following links:
Who do they help?
How do they work? 
How to use? 

Would YOU like to WIN a 

Dream Catcher Weighted Blanket?

Yeah.  I thought you would.

How to Enter and WIN: 

Mandatory entry:  Leave a comment below. Feel free to share why you would benefit from the weighted blanket.

Additional entries:

1.  Follow this blog

2.  Follow me on twitter - @LaliQuin (and don't be shy - say hello) 

3.  “Like” the AutismWonderland Facebook page

4.  “Like” the DreamCatcher-Weighted-Blankets Facebook page

Every time you enter, you MUST post a comment. It is very important that you post a comment* for each entry.  If you are already signed up for any of these, no problem. Just post a comment and you’re in the giveaway!

This giveaway will end Sunday, October 2nd at 11:59pm EST. Winner will be announced on Facebook & Twitter on Monday, October 3rd.  I will contact the winner via email and you will have 24 hours to reply. 

Feel free to contact me at autismwonderland@gmail.com with any questions.

*Comments will be numbered in the order they are listed and a random number generator (random.org) will be used to select the winner. If you combine entries into one post, you will only have one chance to win rather than up to three. Give-a-way is open to U.S. residents only. 

**Dream Catcher Weighted Blankets provided me with a complimentary blanket.   The opinions expressed are my own and have not been influenced in any way. 

If I were really Wonder Woman, I'd have a much smaller waist.

This morning I woke up in a crabby mood.  But after taking a "vacation" day yesterday to stay home with The Boy because he was sick.  I was happy to get up and get dressed to go to work.  Eight hours at the office is much more relaxing than eight hours at home with a sick kid.  


And then I walked into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. 


And there they were.  Taunting me.  Staring me down.  And all like, "Yeah, we're still here.  And what?"


Damn you, dirty dishes!


So while my coffee was brewing and before taking a shower, I washed a sink full of dishes.  From the meal that I cooked the night before.  All the while cursing out thinking of The Husband (my sleeping beauty still snoring in bed).


This led to a mild morning argument  discussion.  I won't get into those details.  Feel free to use your imagination.  Or if you're married, you probably won't have to imagine too hard. 


In all fairness, The Husband is a pretty great guy.  And he does help me.  And The Husband would have washed the dishes - had I asked him too.  And that's my problem.  I don't ask him.  I don't ask him for help until I'm annoyed that he hasn't helped me.

My other problem?  When he attempts to wash the dishes without being asked?  I shoo him away because he doesn't do it right.  But in my defense, The Husband has very delicate skin (bendito) and can only wash dishes with cold water.       

But dirty dishes isn't really the problem.


My biggest problem is: I don't know how to ask for help.

I am not the kind of person to ask for help when I need it. And even if help is offered, I don't take it.  I always think that I can do things by myself.  I take on too much.  I don't know how to delegate - not that The Husband is one to be ordered around.  But you know what I mean.  For me, asking for help seems like a sign of weakness.


Because I'm a wife. A mother.  My job is to do everything.  And help everyone.  It's what I'm supposed to do.  Isn't it?


Um...no.  Not really. It isn't.  


Because I am not Wonder Woman.  I am human.  I cannot do it all. This year especially I've taken on a lot of extra responsibility - with The Boy's Turning 5 drama and all.  So while I may have felt I was on my own.  I really wasn't. 


Yes, there were things that The Husband could not do or be a part of.  Not because he didn't want to be, he just physically couldn't, due to the demands of his new job.  But, there were a lot of things he could of helped with.  I was am just too stubborn and too "strong" to ask.


And when you are pretend to be strong and front like no assistance is needed - people kind of stop attempting and offering. 


Well, I've been strong for too long.  And it's showing.


I am tired, frustrated, mentally and physically exhausted.  Working full time, going to school and raising a child with special needs - is not easy.  And maintaining our little abode.  And signing The Boy up for therapies.  Filling out paperwork, scheduling appointments.  And on 4 to 5 hours of sleep a night.  I need to stop pretending that this is normal.  I need a break.  I DO need help.  And I do have someone willing to help me.  If only I were to ask for help.      


Unless, I pranced around in this little get up - then I wouldn't need to ask a thing.  Dinner would be served and the dishes would be washed.  But that's a whole other adults only post...




"Wishes won't wash dishes." ~ American Proverb


This post was inspired by a Kick in the Blog prompt:  When was the last time you asked for help? When was the last time you should have asked and didn't?

Just One of Those Days

I've been up since 3 am (It's 6:27 pm right now).  If you regularly follow this blog, you will know that I do not sleep.  The Boy does not let me.  But this last week has been out of control.  Every single night, he's been up at 3 in the morning - dumping out Lego's, turning on lights, ransacking the kitchen.  

I'm TIRED.  And maybe it's my fault.  Maybe instead of staying up until 11 o'clock watching The Food Network, I should have been asleep.  (Damn you Guy Fieri & The Best Thing I Ever Ate!)

So this morning as I stood waiting with The Boy for the school bus (that came 15 minutes late), I burst into tears.  For no reason other than sheer exhaustion.

And then there were train delays.   

And then I got to work and just had a bad day.  

And then there was a torrential downpour.  And I had no umbrella.  So I took an alternate route and met The Husband at work so he could drive me home.

And in my alternate route, I yelled at a lady sitting next to me on the train.  (Because I'm tired and cranky.)  In my defense she was drenched from the rain and brushing the mud and other god awful city debris off of her - in my direction!   

And then while driving home with The Husband - there's traffic.  Due to the torrential downpour.  

And then I get criticized about how I make chicken by my mother.  Who also wants to criticize the new OT therapist but I had to cut her short.  Because I've decided, she just doesn't like male therapists.

But all through this crappy day, I kept thinking about The Boy.  

As I lay in his bed last night/early this morning, with one eye open I heard him playing.  Pretend playing, using his imagination, creating a dialogue.  And then he's standing beside me, singing "If you're happy and you know it..."  He sang the whole song.  Clapping his hands.  Stomping his feet.  Saying "hooray." 

And even at 4 am, in my sleep deprived state, I appreciate it. 

I remembered when we first started teaching him that song, 3 years ago - when he first started ABA therapy.  At the time he had no language, so we sang the song for him.  We had to hold his hands to make him clap.  We had to move his legs up and down so he could stomp.  We had to lift up his arms and say "hooray."

I was so tired, trying to sleep with one eye open, I can't remember whether or not I said, "good job."

I've been thinking about how far The Boy's  come in the last three years - all day long.  I've been thinking about how he resisted his hands being clapped.  I've been thinking about how stiff his little legs were, as we tried to move them up and down.  I've been thinking about how  heavy his arms were as we said "hooray."  I've been thinking about how as he developed language, the words and movements were difficult for him to do simultaneously.

As I write this, I realize how silly this may sound to some parents.  How some parents may be so sick of hearing or singing - "If you're happy and you know it..."

But I'll never get tired of it, no matter how tired I am.  And while I'm happy I can appreciate The Boy's achievements, I just wish that I didn't have to appreciate them at 4 in the morning.             

    

One More Week of CPSE

I've been up since 3:30 this morning thanks to The Boy.  Tossing and turning in his bed, drifting in and out of restless sleep, listening to the sounds of legos clicking together. Too tired to argue, hoping he'll fall asleep on his own.

At 6:05 he falls back asleep and I know I have to wake him up at 6:30 to get ready for school.  And then I realize it's Friday.  Another week of his ESY is over.  And there's one more week left.  And then...he's done.

And after next Friday, all of The Boy's home based services will be done.  No more SEITs.  No more Board of Ed funded OT sessions at the sensory gym.  And I want him to continue at the sensory gym, which means I'll have to pay privately.  Which means a LOT of money.  It shouldn't be too bad, insurance should cover some of the cost.

But for the first time in three years, we'll be on our own.

It'll be our 3rd major transition.  First EI.  Then CPSE.  And now...CSE.  

And The Boy will be starting a new school.  With new teachers,  new students.  A new bus driver.  New routines.  Come Setember - EVERYTHING will be different.

So in addition to sleep depreviation, depression there's a side of anxiety thrown in - you know, for good measure.

It's NOT the most wonderful time of the year.  Not for me. 

I'm Not Ready.  Is The Boy?  I think he is.  Maybe that's why I'm so nervous.

    

Sleep Issues, Bedtime Routines and Special Needs

Best of the Best, Edition 8: Sleep Issues & Bedtime and Special Needs 

"Over 20 bloggers have shared their personal experiences, provided sleep resources, and outlined tips for helping children, teens, and parents find sleep. This incredible group of bloggers have experience with many different invisible special needs, such as ADHD, anxiety, sensory processing disorder, and autism. There’s something for everyone!" 

I have to say this is my favorite edition so far.   I loved reading everyone's experiences, especially the older kids.  It gave me an idea of what's in store.  I also picked up some great tips and techniques.  Not sure if it will work but it's all about trial and error with our kids.  

Hope you all have a good night's sleep tonight!

Lisa Quinones-Fontanez presents This Bed Ain’t Big Enough for 3 posted at Autism Wonderland. Prior to becoming a parent, Lisa had many ideas, “One of my ideas was: I would not let my child sleep in our bed.” Discover why Lisa has changed her belief on this idea and what her evenings often look like.