notice and feel understandably resentful of that at times.
Homework must be worked in between the free time needed to unwind from the socio-emotionally exhausting school day and that magical hour when all focus has completely left the building. Instrument practice too. On the worst days, getting to school on time is an obstacle, no matter how early we wake him up. Extra people around at the same time on the weekends makes getting ready for church and managing a bathroom schedule almost impossible. If certain “in-your-face” personalities sit at his workspace at school or are present in Sunday School, there is panic and shutdown.
Family games cannot be played past medication hours. He talks over all of us, and impulsivity holds him captive.
His bedroom and any room he functions in look like the clutter that is his brilliant but scattered mind.
Tasks need to be given in no more than three sentences and often repeated.
Papers with small print and many math problems have to be blocked to show one problem at a time.
November through end of February every year present seasonal challenges to his mood. It’s a wave we are learning to ride with greater success each year.
If a shirt has had a visible germ (dirt or toothpaste, etc.), it is on the “I can no longer wear” list, even if washed. Socks have to fit right. Elastic pants only.
As he matures, we encourage greater coping. We are moving forward. Progress is measurable in small increments.
So, is this a list of complaints? Actually, no. It’s a list of blessings. Because whether we like it or not, our family has grown in flexibility, compassion, making room for each other, problem-solving, and communicating. Both