We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started, And know the place for the first time. ~T.S. Eliot Four Quartets

25 March 2010

Its hard work

Today I was exhausted before I even left the house. The same morning routine of getting ready for school, the same for the past three years for my son is still not easy depending on the day. Depending on where the planets are aligned, what phase the moon is in, or where the tides are. For my daughter it is still pretty good. She wakes up most days eager to get dressed, have her breakfast, let the cat in or out, and go to nursery.

My son at 9 still struggles with the mundane tasks of life, tasks he says are boring or pointless. Most parents look forward to the increased independence of their children as they grow up, finding things getting somewhat easier. You taught them how to dress themselves, brush their teeth, have a bath, and at a certain age they do this on their own, and you no longer have to think about it. Having aspies however, I wonder when will we reach that point? Will we ever reach it? Things like brushing one's teeth, having a bath, still requires reminders, prompts and very often arguments ending up with me brushing my sons teeth or leaving the bath for another day. The entire personal hygiene routine is like this. And I love the admonishments that say don't do it for him, what you do for him he'll never do for himself. Yes, true, he won't. Ever. Left to his own devices I'm fairly confident my son's teeth would rot and then fall out, the bathtub would never know him and I dread to think what state his bowels would be in. Its not a case of something once learned, it is continual relearning . Even more difficult at times, baths at age 3 were more fun.

But as today wore on, and I worked in the school, and my son received a star pupil award, I'm reminded of the ways in which he is maturing, taking on new responsibilities at school, walking home with friends, using his mobile and remembering his watch. These are not things to be taken for granted.

And finishing this tiring day with my daughter asleep, my son laying next to me on the bed asking me about death and dying, worrying that I may die too soon. We talked about reincarnation, about our life together in the future, imagining me as an old woman of 80 and he in his middle age. What will that be like? Will he have children of his own? How many jobs will he work in his lifetime? Will I live close by to him? How lovely when all that tension releases and the love pours out. When at times like this I can still see my baby in my 9 year boy, and how we laugh at the loud snores coming out of my daughter, how I love them so.

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