Sunday, April 18, 2010
But I hate it when the holidays end.
For all the practical reasons, I totally get the 'thank God the holidays are over' cries. I do definitely look forward to having more clear time in the day... but...
I love seeing Billy relaxed. It's so lovely, especially as he grows, to see him choose his own amusement, and to see his attention levels and stamina expand, to hear his growing opinions about who he is and what he's doing. It's lovely to see him not overwhelmed.
I know they do brilliant things at school. They really do. Billy's school is amazing. It gives me faith in so many ways that the world (never mind just Billy) will be fine. I know he is safe. I know he is loved. I know he is OK... but...
I miss him. I miss the stuff we do together. I miss being the one who knows everything about him.
I worry about him. I worry that he's such a solo player, that he's all alone in a sea of sensory overload. I worry he's lonely.
It struck me recently that this whole special needs thing brought with it a special bonus. It meant I had an excuse to keep my boy close for a bit longer. I don't mean to sound like a crazy over-protective Mum, it's more that I am charmed by him, entertained by him, inspired by him. He's really good company, always has been.
I like to work. I really do. I'm really lucky to be able to do something that I can do from home, fairly flexibly. (Though I'm sure lots of the people I work with don't see my availability as very flexible... sorry about that). I love what I do.
Billy, though, is like a gift. I still can't believe he's mine. To be honest, I'm still amazed that he-who-thinks-blogs-are-stupid wants to keep playing, so Billy's quite the bonus. Even Scruffy adds his own flavour to our little family.
I know our family is very different to other families. I know we do things differently, see things differently, act differently... but we're us, and we make me proud. In our own odd way.
Which brings me back to the fact that tomorrow we must but up against reality again and go to school.
Maybe I'm just struggling with the idea of getting up early and being organised. Or that I have no excuses now, and will have to buckle down and work.
All of a sudden, this 'I love my son' business seems a bit shady doesn't it...
Posted by Valerie Foley at 11:01 PM