I had two separate conversations at church today where, after responding honestly to the question of how my family is doing, I realized my neighbors got more than they bargained for.
The answer was raw.
I don’t like lying, though. Fred and Kristen listened to me without judgment or pity, which means a lot.
Jack has cabin fever because it’s cold and snowy out and he doesn’t like wearing shoes and coats, or getting the hems of his pants wet. We haven’t taken him in the car since the two disastrous car trips last week, unless both of us go so I can drive and Dutch can sit in the back and be the bouncer.
He broke the tracks of the new train Friday, so Dutch got out the old electric train board. Jack broke that Saturday. We are running out of things for Jacky to love to death.
I don’t mean to sound all Ebenezer Scrooge-y when I say that Christmas break is for families with typical children, families who travel, families who can take all their kids places without fearing for their lives in the car.
I do have the spirit of Christmas in my heart. I do try to keep it all year through. It’s just that for the special-needs parent and her SN kid(s), Christmas Break is so lame.
After handling two separate kid meltdowns of the massive variety yesterday, I told Dutch I am sick of disabilities. The novelty has worn off.
The snow is fresh and white on the mountains. I keep looking at the vista and inhaling, exhaling.
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.”