What will tomorrow bring?

I woke this morning to low level chatter from the room below where Smiley sleeps.  Don't ask me what time it was, I just go into automaton mode to find out why she can't sleep.  Thirsty, check. Nappy, check. Temperature, check.  Music, check. Positioning, aha!  Smiley has a new sleep-system - an arrangement of pillows and brackets, designed to stop her wind-sweeping turning into scoliosis - except in her case it seems to be a non-sleep system...once again I had to remove it and put her on her side so she could go back to sleep.  A better solution is obviously needed, memo to self, add to list of phone calls when get up properly!

It turned into a bitterly cold but sunny day and the snow gods seemed to be gently sieving snow over the city, which just made everything look pretty.  A little last minute Christmas shopping was on the agenda so off I went in my woolly hat and sun-glasses.  All was going well until I got the regular daily text message from Angel at 12.43..

Her: What's for dinner?

Me: What would you like?

Her: I don't know, something nice, today has been terrible.

Angel is not normally given to dramatics, so I was a little concerned, but she is a teenager and she hadn't mentioned any actual disasters, so I just added her favourite dish to the shopping list  and kept on going. 

First home from school was CD and he literally bounded up the garden path looking like an extra from a Steven Spielberg.  He was wearing these funny little white cardboard specs: rainbow glasses borrowed from 6th class.  I was ahead of him by about 5 minutes and grumbling about my lack of lunch, and he actually heard me and processed what I said - progress for a kid with Asperger's.

"Mum, I want a hot chocolate, but you can have something first as you are so hungry."

(note the empathy, but he's still needs to work on appropriate language!)

Smiley came in gently snoring in her wheelchair...so here's hoping she sleeps tonight.

Last to arrive was Angel, with a weary droop to her shoulders.  Apparently the teachers are  increasing the workload, significantly.  This may not be a bad thing with her Leaving Cert exams only 6 months away.  But my girl felt it was all far too much: I rarely see her like this - tetchy, miserable and angry - typical teenage behaviour perhaps?  So I did the sympathetic Mum thing.  I listened, gave her the good laptop, lit a fire and provided mugs of tea whether she asked for them or not.  Dinner wasn't wanted after all, and now even Christmas is to be worked through not enjoyed: that's how bad she felt.  The only (short-term) solution she could think of was snow.  And I think she must have been doing a snow dance when I wasn't watching, because within the hour the first flakes began to fall.  

This time the snow stuck, and while the radio resounded with tales of traffic hell the world outside began once again to look like a winter wonderland.  Angel has rallied and is hopefully happy of a school closure tomorrow.  Now at 11pm they're all asleep.  Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

8 comments Aspergers, cerebral palsy, hot chocolate, parent teacher meetings, rainbow glasses, snow, The Leaving

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