Archive for June, 2013
My apologies. I won’t be able to write a blog update this week because we are breaking in a new type of dishwashing soap.
I’m sure you understand.
New bottles of dishwashing soap – with their intriguing shapes, alluring colors, inherent squeezability – draw Clay’s attention. We try hard to stick with the same brand to avoid these issues -we really do. But sometimes circumstances dictate a change. We are in the midst of such a change, and it is all consuming.
There is no point in hiding the new bottle. We could put it inside a paper bag, inside of a box, inside of a safe, inside of a darkened corner of the locked basement. Clay will know it is there. He will find it. My worries about his eyesight (How do you give a nonverbal kid who can’t sit still an eye test?) are generally alleviated when something new enters the house. We could place a magnet the size of an ant’s kneecap on the back of the refrigerator. Old eagle eye will spot it, as he shoots through the kitchen at nearly 100 miles per hour, and carry it off to some far distant corner of the house. Where one of the dogs will sniff it out and chew it up. Read the rest of this entry »
I don’t know if this is unusual or not, but I can pinpoint the exact lowest point in all of the ups and downs Clay, his brother, my wife and I have faced together.
No, it wasn’t the News Year’s Eve when a doctor decided a new drug treatment was just the thing for Clay, and he wound up literally hanging from the ceiling – ripping a ceiling fan out by the roots.
No, it wasn’t when Clay’s psychiatrist had to meet with us in the office parking lot because we couldn’t get the little guy into a confined area. (Looking at our haggard faces under the street lights, the doctor actually waived his fee so that we could spend the money on a sitter and take a night off – but that is a story for another time.)