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Magical Moments

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Yesterday’s post was all about the poor hand that life has been dealing me lately. I feel as if the Universe read my post and decided to make some recompense, because today has been absolutely amazing.

It started with a run early this morning – a run that, funnily enough, I was a hair’s breath away from bailing on. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I woke up feeling – to borrow a wonderful phrase from a book I read – rough as a badger’s arse. I certainly didn’t feel up to running for 18km. But I knew that if I didn’t go, I would regret it. I would go through the entire day feeling a sense of incompleteness that would only be satisfied by running.

So I dragged my badger’s arse out of bed, blearily had some coffee and peanut butter toast, and hit the road. As soon as I started running, I felt better – helped no doubt by the perfect autumn weather. I decided to just enjoy the run without caring about my pace, and perhaps because of that, I clocked one of my best-ever times for a run of that distance – 1:59:43 for 18.23km. My legs were killing me, but I felt absolutely fantastic. I’d lost quite a bit of confidence in my running in recent weeks, and this run was just what I needed to restore some of that.

Later on, when I was showered and fed, I lay on my bed with my husband watching TV. Usually this doesn’t last for very long: I tend to be all antsy and wanting to get up and get things done, but today I was content to just relax. My husband and I sat there for ages, drinking cups of coffee and chatting about the contestants on The Voice, which we both enjoy watching. Neither of us was in any rush to go anywhere or do anything. We were content to just be with each other. With all the stress that’s been going on lately, there has been some inevitable discord, but today our frames of mind were in perfect harmony.

Eventually, we got up because the kids wanted us to put up their bouncy castle in the backyard. This involved first finding the bouncy castle, which hadn’t been used since March. After some rooting around in the garage and the garden shed, we located it. Miraculously, we found the motor in the same box, and then we were in business. For the next hour or so, the kids happily bounced around, and I basked in the sound of their laughter.

It’s the best sound in the entire world. How could I not be happy?

Since this morning, there has been a series of magical moments strung together to make a perfect day. It is impossible to dwell on the negative on days like this. Instead, I find it very easy to feel truly grateful for all of the richness in my life.

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit: Ali Smiles 🙂. This picture has a creative commons attribution license.

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Moments of connection

Last night I had a hot date with the vacuum cleaner.  The boys had come home with a frightening amount of sand in their shoes, which had of course ended up on the carpet.  When I walked into my living room, I had a moment of severe dislocation.  Had I accidentally wandered onto a beach?  The sand was actually getting between my toes and making them all gritty.  Hence the unscheduled quality time with the vacuum cleaner.

I was moving at speed, like a crazed woman.  Before I could vacuum, I had to ensure that toys were picked up and put away, that there were no socks or other items of clothing littering the floor, that there were no cups lying around (my family uses an inordinate amount of cups, most of which get left under beds, beside the couch, or at random points on the floor).  I was barking out orders to the kids to tidy up their things, and they were so startled by this flurry of activity that they actually did what I asked.  Things were picked up, vacuuming was done, linen was laundered and replaced.  While all of this was happening, Gerard was in the kitchen cooking a very nice dinner.  I have to say, it’s great having a man who can cook!

Finally the work was done.  The floor was clean, the sheets were fresh, the vacuum cleaner was unplugged and put away.  Then George caught sight of a tub of Playdough high up on a shelf and wanted it.  I told him he couldn’t use the Playdough on the grounds that I was in no mood to have bits of Playdough ground into my freshly cleaned carpet.  I should mention at this point that I was somewhat cranky last night.  I hadn’t slept the previous night and I was beyond exhausted.  I was afraid that I would not cope with the idea of getting down on hands and knees to dig Playdough out of the carpet.  Besides, it was so close to the kids’ bedtime and it would have been a bad idea to allow George to start a new activity.

But George was not taking no for an answer.  One thing about autistic kids is that they can be very focused on what they want.  We once endured a four-hour tantrum because George was trying to spell a sentence with his fridge magnets and ran out of the letter “a”.  So I was a little worried about the possibility of the Playdough issue escalating.  George kept repeating, over and over, “I want Playdough, please.  I want Playdough, please.” His use of the word “please” was tearing at my heartstrings.  It sounded so plaintive, so imploring.  It made me feel like I was being mean to my child.

Then George, who is nothing if not resourceful, dragged over the little red plastic kiddies’ table.  The table has a gammy leg that keeps coming off – not to be deterred, George reattached the leg, stood on the table and tried to reach the Playdough.  Needing a quick diversion, I decided to turn this into a game.  I ran to him as he stretched up and grabbed him off the table.  I ran with him through the house and dumped him on my bed.  George, it must be said, was quite surprised and momentarily startled.  Then he saw the laughter in my eyes and started giggling.  “Tickle,” he ordered.  I obliged, and was rewarded with the sound of his laughter.  It is the best sound in the world, that laugh.  George has one of the most infectious laughs I have ever heard.

Next thing I knew, he was off the bed and pulling my hand.  He dragged me all the way to the kitchen, him giggling so much he was almost out of breath, me feigning reluctance.  In the kitchen, he pushed me right up against the counter, then he slowly backed away, making sure I was staying put.  Then he turned around and ran away!  I chased him through the house, following the sound of the giggles, and finally caught him on the couch.  I was tickling him, hugging him, and giving him lots of the deep pressure sensory input that he craves.  Then James joined the fray and we were all tickling each other until we collapsed in a breathless, giggling heap.

As I lay on the couch with my two boys, I glanced up at the shelf and noticed that the Playdough had disappeared.  Gerard, taking the opportunity provided by the distraction, had removed it and put it out of sight.  The Playdough was forgotten, a possible crisis had been averted, and my boys went to bed smiling.

This is why parenting is the best thing in the whole world.  All of the stress in the world dissolves during those moments of connection.