Let's take a break

We don't watch TV. We don't go out to eat. We don't play video games. We don't go out dancing. We don't go to movies. We just don't.

We sleep, go to work, have therapy appointments, do grocery shopping, clean the house, do the laundry, cook (and occasionally eat), deal with appointments, research, and play and interact with the kids. That is our life. We are OK with that - because we are taking care of business.

We tried being social and had friends over the house for dinner and a playdate. Zach would not disconnect himself from me the whole time. This was not conducive to conversation or me cooking or any of the things I intended. This made me and Steve crazy. Who is going to want to hang with us under these conditions?

Zach's current speech language therapist (SLP) will have her last day tomorrow. She is a nice person - and we hoped things would have worked better with her. Despite his lack of progress under her tutelage, I always felt she was trying to help us. She is the one who gave us the "yeah, he probably is autistic" affirmation when no one else would, giving us that early start on our journey. She is also the one who just yesterday told me that through Early Intervention, we were eligible for respite care. Huh? Why did the county never mention this to us? Do they not see us pulling our hair out over my mother's illness, Sophie and her OT, and Zach and the autism? (Which they have been notified of all those things going on in our family.)

Needless to say, I called the service coordinator right away and asked. She is drafting the paperwork. 25 hours of respite for the next 6 months. I'll take it. I don't know when it will kick in, but it will certainly be appreciated.

C. has helped us in ways beyond the SLP role. Let this be another lesson in the good ol' "Life Lessons Handbook" I am writing: Never write off anyone for not meeting certain criteria, adjust the criteria and see if they meet those, while finding someone else to meet the original criteria.