This stuff with the state is very frustrating. I'm venting, I'm documenting, but it is such a small part of our lives overall.
I know I don't post a whole lot anymore. I'm busy, I'm always tired, and the day to day life, while probably not "typical" of most families, has become our norm. So I don't blog about how Huck calls Lucky Charms cereal "My Charmings," or the day each week when our SW comes over and then Huck goes berserk, I don't blog about how much he loves gymnastics or school or Scooby Doo, I don't blog about how there are two boys in his class that Huck so very much wants to be friends with, but they've known each other since they were learning to roll over and they can't stand to play with anyone else, and how sad it makes my darling Huck. I don't mention the days he wakes me up at 5:41 whispering into my ear, "Mommy, it is time to get some foooooood in my belllllllly," or how much of an enabler I am when he pronounces "v" as "b" or "r" as "w" nor how I sometimes find myself saying, "You better get your paddow before you fwoat down da wiber," when he's pretending to canoe in the family room. All that stuff, the good and bad, is just everyday life.
My Huckle is supercool. We're used to the "specialized" parenting he requires. Most of the time, we can see the rough stuff coming. For example, Huck gets wild after our SW visits. Always has. Sometimes he throws lots of things, sometimes he scratches his legs raw with his fingernails, sometimes he refuses to talk and barks instead***, and sometimes he grabs onto the bottom of the garage door as it goes up, it lifts him a few feet in the air before I can run to him, and he falls and scrapes his knees. So now, I schedule the SW visits right before gymnastics (which is right before school) so that if he throws himself onto the ground or into the wall headfirst, as he is apt to do, at least the walls and floor are covered in thick foam padding. Plus, gymnastics and school keep him busy long enough that by the time he gets home he's mostly forgotten that, for a half hour that morning, he was pretty sure he was getting in some one's car and never coming back here.
So I guess my whole point is that -- compared to lots of people -- what we're doing day in and day out differs from the norm. For us, what we do is just what we do. Plain old living, but with a twist, I guess. And our boy is worth it, even if it means waking up 3 to 8 times a night to soothe him back to sleep.
(I really like my sleep, so that's a big deal to me, lols)
***I had an A-Ha! moment last week about the barking. He often asks why the dogs bark, and my stock response is that they get worried about something they hear or see, so they talk about it in barks. So, duh, I'm pretty sure now that he's barking to tell me that he's worried without really admitting it. (This barking that I'm talking about isn't the normal, "Mommy, I'm a furry puppy!" playtime stuff. There's plenty of that, and there's a difference.)