“You must trust and believe in people or life becomes impossible.” ~Anton Chekhov
I changed my links page to add a few fun sites I found. Please don’t take offense if yours was removed. I may remove all the autism blog links and just link you over to fun and general mayhem. Or make categories, or something.
Speaking of mayhem, I was in NYC last weekend. I’d won a sales contest at work along with office/teammate ‘Sister Sledge.’ It was to see a Yankee/Red Sox game, which was rained out.
The cool parts to me were the view from the Top of The Tower Restaurant at the highest floor of our hotel. And the fact that I got to have a four-day weekend. And also there was a U.N. meeting and we got to see all kinds of diplomats and limos; secret service, police escorts and that kind of stuff.
Down the street were protesters with signs we were too far away to read.
I think some of the UN peeps even stayed in our hotel. The place was nice but not THAT nice. Maybe the diplomats got the kick-ass rooms. But staying in a hotel, having a day off, traveling – they’re treats in and of themselves.
I love coming home. Every time, without fail, I breathe deeper and easier once I know we’re headed back. I’m just not a city mouse, I guess. I’m too trusting to live in a big city – especially New York.
I have to trust. With my boy so far away from me, I don’t really have a choice. Andy is there and can take Jonah to his apartment, give him bubble baths and look him over. If Jonah has a rash or his toenails are getting too long, Andy can report the rash and cut the nails. Of course they won’t take care of him the way parents would – they have other kids to look after. It’s as if Jonah’s suddenly the member of a family of several kids with autism and their many caregivers. It could be a damn good reality show. If nothing else, I doubt it would be boring.
I’ve been trying not to care that I don’t get to do all the little things with him anymore: the everyday rituals: cutting his little nails, giving him lots of bubble soap in his bath, singing songs with him as he gets dried off and dressed.
I miss watching him sleep.
In sleep, especially, he is indistinguishable from any other child.
Sweet dreams, mommy’s boy. I’ll be there on Saturday with grandma and daddy to see you!