Distracted

Life with children is....hard. Not in a bad way, nor a poor pitiful me way. It's just hard to balance it; to get it right. They don't come with instructions, there is no one there really to fix what you break, or erase your mistakes. It is just is what it is and having two special needs children, in my most likely jaded opinion, is truly hard.

My youngest son fell asleep tonight, after his meds kicked in, well before his brothers. As he laid there in my arms and I sang our song to him and kissed his soft, sweet, little forehead, I thought of everything I miss with him. All the things I let slide between the cracks, while I coax my oldest into trying something new (i.e. doing what's "normal"). I watched him breathe and thought of all those times I've taken him for granted while I worked on calming my oldest son down. I held his little hand and thought of how many moments I've missed because I was focused on how to adjust my teaching style to adapt to how my oldest son learns. I held him and felt his heartbeat and realized how blessed I was to have him.

Despite his communication faux pas, his frustration when the lines of communications break down or his struggle to make sense of things, he's still such a great boy. He's always happy for the most part. He's the first one to offer a cuddle - granted it's ad nauseam some days, but at least he voluntarily hugs me. Lets me kiss his soft cheeks, and hugs his small little body back. He laughs at butterfly kisses, give me regular mohawks with whatever pretend thing he has on hand and wants to fix everything all the time. Even if it's not broken!

I think life with two children is like this anyway. No matter if you have special needs children or not. Inevitably you feel like you're failing one, neglecting one, getting...distracted. Before you know it, time has somehow just flittered by and the child before you is no longer a baby; a toddler.

I've sat here for hours now wondering how I can keep him involved, engaged. There are just no easy answers. When my oldest son meltsdown, my youngest needs to latch on to me. Only, he can't because I must get my oldest out of the room for everyone's sake. Or if my oldest meltsdown minorly (by our standards of course), but loudly, my youngest covers his ears and either disengages from all of us, or simply leaves and goes off on his own. Usually not wanting to be disturbed.

I hear the statistics too, you know? How this generation of "neurotypical" children will live with their parents until well into their 30s. How special needs children don't even graduate highschool until on average they're 21. So, in reality, I'm sure I will have plenty of time to make it up to him, to both of them. It's just tonight, laying with him snuggled next to me, out like a light, brushing his soft hair to the side, I felt bad.

I'm sure, since they are so young right now, I will work it out in time. Tonight, listening to him hum in his sleep though, I wished I'd had this figured out now. All I could do, was bend down and whisper in his little ear, that I loved him always and no matter what. I kissed his small, warm cheek and carried his limp, sleeping body to bed and tucked him in. Hoping that somewhere in there, that just this once language doesn't get jumbled up and that my heartfelt words made it to where they needed to go. I hope he heard me, I hope he knows and always remembers.