I’m so sorry to hear that..

Said the woman on the phone at Revenue Canada when I told her my son has non verbal autism.  I’m sure she was trying to be polite or diplomatic or something?  But really, he’s not dying? 

Good grief.  Instead, I replied “Its fine.  He’s fine.  We’re fine.  Thank you.”  Carry on. Deep breath, big girl panties on.  This morning was a bit of a challenge.  Timothy woke up as per usual; which means, dragging his huge blanket down the stairs headed straight for the furby.  Its become his latest favourite toy.  It may find its way to the bottom of the toy box today…just sayin…

I changed his diaper, warmed his milk and got the other two kids off to school.  This is where it got hairy.  Jake (aka Timmy Daddy) got home from work and we prepared to get Timothy off to school.  He started hitting and kicking at Dad.  Wouldn’t walk.  Bus driver impatiently waiting outside.  She has seen this before.  It happens a couple times a month.  But Daddy was tired so he waved the bus onward and waited for the storm (Timmy) to pass.  It lasted another thirty minutes.  For once I was spared from his aggression but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.  Where was this section in the parenting manual?

Dad took him to school and I started on breakfast for the two of us.  Cause bacon fixes everything right?!


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