After a week of being sick, with the holidays and both kids' birthdays bearing down on me, I have finally committed to cleaning the house and decking the halls, one bit at a time. Some are regular spots, like the fridge, counters and stove. Others, well, send me back a bit in time ...
When we first moved in, it was after being evacuated for a week from both old and new places because of a huge wildfire. Shortly after, COVID-19 shut us all down. Remote learning in a new house that was cramped with unpacked moving boxes and a working-from-home Mom was the 4th chaotic school change for James in about a year, after almost 10 steady years in the same district. It crashed with a divorce, deaths in the family, and the absence of his sister.
Behaviors started up that he'd never had before, and they progressed downhill and exploded. That period was so intense that I blocked a lot of it out. Attacking spots of milk, food, and tissue on the walls, furniture, and floors today reminded me forcefully that at some point I let got of trying to get everything cleaned up because he'd only do it again and again ... I had my hands full, and I was losing my mind.
These days, James' teeth have been fixed, he has been in the same school for almost 4 years and back in the classroom for almost a year and a half. Family relationships are slowly being rebuilt. Despite some churnover, ABA has been a staunch support and parter for us as well as the school. While there is still a lot of work ahead of us, we are back in the realm of much more sane and calm.
I cleaned those expletive deleted spots, and it felt good.
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