by Jennifer Dyer
I wanted to get this up when the last storm hit, but, alas…
Snow Day Outside:

Peaceful and pristine outside
Snow day inside:

What happens inside while snow covers the outdoors in a peaceful blanket.
by Jennifer Dyer
I wanted to get this up when the last storm hit, but, alas…
Snow Day Outside:

Peaceful and pristine outside
Snow day inside:

What happens inside while snow covers the outdoors in a peaceful blanket.
by Jennifer Dyer
Bedtime, who needs it? Mommy, that’s who.
A long time has passed since I last updated this blog. Why? The best reason I can offer is busyness and the lack of desire to deal with the deeper realities of my life. Tonight is no different, but I’m hoping I will sleep better knowing I have done something productive. Even as I write this Rachel yells for a water refill, which she has spilled on the carpet. Again. Perhaps I should buy a Sonic apron and some roller skates.
A few minutes ago hubby announced that it was time to head upstairs and go to bed. Our daughter Rachel never calms down until all the lights are off and everyone else is asleep. I feel as though we are back in the early days of having a new baby who screamed until 11 pm every night. It’s discouraging. Exhausting. Maddening. There is no escaping from the constant needs of autism, and lack of sleep makes it so much worse. Hubby gets stressed, which makes me more stressed, which makes me short tempered and fearful, which makes it harder for me to fall asleep, and results in me wishing I were glued to the couch when hubby announces it’s time for bed. I want to fade into the cushions. I want to run away. I want everyone to get along and do what they are supposed to do without a huge fight. I want something to change… And I want the batteries in Elmo to die, but that would bring Rachel into our bedroom insisting we fix him. I will give in long before she does.
Alas, reality doesn’t go to happy land, Elmo doesn’t stop singing and talking in the third person, and I have to haul my carcass off the couch. I resist the urge to snarf chocolate chips as a way of self medicating. Instead, I check the laundry one last time–the same laundry that I have to rewash again tomorrow because all the clean towels were used in a Play-Doh restaurant before I could get them folded.
But, as I settle into bed, my mind flies to the other side of the world. A place far away from Elmo, eldest and her constant stomach aches that magically occur just at bedtime, away from the constant tyranny of autism, and away from my constant complaints. Watching the footage of that tsunami in Japan is horrifying. My heart goes out to all the people in Japan, but as I am a mommy, I think about the many mothers there tonight. Some of them are having to tuck their children into bed in refuge centers. Some have to tend to injured. Some… I can hardly think about what else they may have endured.
That being said, I feel better already. Yes, I get jealous when my friends talk about their kids going to bed right at eight o’clock and staying asleep until morning. However, on the grand scale of things, I am so thankful for what I have. Plus, I am about to hit the year mark for my diagnosis with cancer. That makes me think of what could not have been, namely me in the picture.
Perhaps I can do another bedtime, maybe even with a smile on my face, even if I do have a few house calls from Dr. Hershey… And perhaps Elmo will take a little journey to a better place. Namely, not mine…
Good night, friends. I must turn this off so Rachel will perhaps go to sleep.