Tomorrow, there'll be sun.

{stream of consciousness}

Memorial Day is winding down, and I am able to finally reflect a bit on all that our Armed Forces have done for our country, and feel appreciation and heartbreak for some many men and women who lose their lives, fighting to make our country safe for my son. PJ, my sister and I attended the small Memorial Day parade in the next town over. It was tiny, but so sweet and respectful and heartfelt. I could feel a small bloom of thanks open in my heart for these men and women I had never met.

The past week was a difficult one. Poor PJ was sick for much of last week, and while he had a GI bug of some sort, the pyrotechnics of it all didn't slow him down a bit, so I had a very spirited, very cranky, very bored boy on my hands while I wiped and Pedialyte-ed and cleaned and laundered. Pete has been helping out as much as he can at the hospital and taking advantage of the overtime pay available. It's all a huge help as far as our wallets go, and I am proud of Pete. He is a hard worker and very good at his job. But it's been a long, lonely week for PJ and I and I'm thankful that tomorrow night is the last of a very long stretch of work for him. We find ourselves rowing the same boat but using two different oars (ahemstupidmetaphors)- drivng the same ship but doing our own thing to steer it. We need one motor. Pete and I desperately need to find a way to reconnect.

PJ has been having a rough time, aside from being sick. He seems to be plagued with allergies (sorry, Dude. That's all me.) and is constantly swiping at his nose. I don't know if it's the nasal discomfort, but he's had a hard time controlling his little body. He's been hyper and prone to tantrum. Yesterday, during a huge town fair, he screamed while I carried him home. For five blocks. Through a crowd. Screaming. I know that he is not the first child to tantrum, but I find myself in that same abyss where I don't know if it's just a typical little boy episode or a phase that he will never come back from, courtesy of Autism.

We have been through stretches like this before, and we always come out okay on the other side. His speech has been coming along so beautifully lately- a milestone that has been keeping me afloat while I try to sort out his other needs. I know we'll be fine. I know he'll be fine. It's just been...difficult, and tonight I am allowing myself the luxury of hashing it out instead of bucking up.

And tomorrow is coming. PJ will be back at school and a day closer to being fully ensconced in his routine again. I will clean up the mess that has accumulated over the past week. Pete will have a few days off and I will remind myself that I can engage him and our marriage.

Annie did say, "The sun'll come out, tomorrow."

Preach, sister.

2 comments

SMD @ lifeaccordingtosteph said...

I hate being disconnected from MFD. Even though you know the reconnection will come, it just seems bleak at the time.

Brie Latini said...

Night work, among other things, has been rough on our marriage. Hopefully, we'll figure out a way to capitalize on the time we can get and unearth some quality out of it.