A tiny step is a step nonetheless. Even if it’s followed by a stumble?

We just had our first bandaid-less breakfast in weeks.  We just had our first SIB-less breakfast in weeks.  Granted, it was followed by SIB after about 20 minutes later, but it’s progress, isn’t it?

I knew you’d understand.

I feel pretty encouraged about it.  Never mind that I feel encouraged like a person who sees the flood rising and they discover they have a second bucket for bailing.  I am so excited I immediately sent Dada a message…in which I already told him that egg salad sandwiches for breakfast are oh-so-much-better if there’s bread.  A fly in the ointment…it was scooped out.

J slept well, and woke up happy.  He seems more relaxed.  The idea of the med seems to be helping him a great deal.  Maybe this is “ah, they’re talking the talk, and walking the walk on that whole ‘helping me’ thing they keep saying…”  I am giving him space, but I am also trying to bring him into things more.  Last night he wanted his pepperoni snack (one slice of pepperoni and one Baby Bel) and I had him sit at the kitchen counter and wait while we toasted a slice of bread (and no wonder we were out this morning, right?) and then sliced the Baby Bel (there are moments when I think “I should’ve been a surgeon!”) and made little canapés for him with that and the pepperoni.  He looked annoyed at first, but then he realized “hey, this is what they do when I don’t want to come up between Dada getting home and setting the table…these people know how to live!!!!”

Yes, we’re sophisticated like that…

And that’s what’s going on here, people: a glimmer of hope.  Instead of bringing in the noise, we seem to be slowly turning it down, and removing some cowbell…

We are far from absolute harmony.  We will never really get that because then life would be tremendously boring, but we are closer (ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, microscopically) to things being better and J being more of who he is when he is overwhelmed by the (to us) abstract complexities of his mind.  That after two pills he seems a little less overwhelmed, and a little more relaxed is a very good sign.  Correction: it is a good sign.  I don’t know if J needing medication for the long-term solution is as good as him not needing it, but we accept that this might be the scenario we’re dealing with, and as long as it’s to help J be better, we’re cool with that.

To reach our goal of something close to a thing approaching balance (look at that…it’s SO ambiguous!) we are now determined to lead a simpler life.  We have assessed our life plan for the next ten years, and a lot of things have dropped out of it.  We had, somehow and in spite of our best intentions, found ourselves on the hamster wheel.  It didn’t LOOK like it, but that’s what it was.

We are pay-as-you-go cell phone people, and as soon as we get home they are turned off and stored in the hallway closet, forgotten until we are leaving the house again, and yet we were living jumping when the house phone rang.  We were fretting about Dada’s work (which IS important because it’s how we make a living,) about TGG and his height-of-melodrama life, about relatives that cannot, will not, and do not understand the intricacies of US.  We have decided that if we’re to be an island, or an archipelago, we have to be as chill as we can, and really pick and choose our battles.

************

Good afternoon…we survived a three-plus hour outing with only one loud Ah-AAAAH! because J wanted more shredded cheddar cheese at the Chinese buffet (don’t ask…it didn’t make sense to me either, but I went along with it,) and a minimal amount of SIB when we finally got home after walking all over Wal-Mart (the dreaded place he hates to love,) Target (the place where we walked and walked so TGG would have time to fill out a job application,) and two trips to Sam’s (one to drop off the car for new tires, the second to actually buy what we needed before heading home.)

We have put on a second set of bandaids, and we are taking a break from our workout today, but tomorrow is an elliptical machine day, and a pajama day all rolled into one.  The purpose is to decompress all that was compressed today…

I think that, in spite of his ever-present love for all things Christmas, even J is a little surprised at how vigorously it’s being pushed this year.  He walked around the stores looking at all the lights and decorations, and he saw the wreaths (FRESH ONES!) already on display outside and gave me a look that just seemed “really????  We haven’t had that bird, have we?  Didn’t we just spend a couple of hours one night handing out candy????”

As it happens to every person who reaches adulthood and loses the time-control anchor of school, J has realized that the time-anchor of retail will not hold you in place as it should.  You will find that Halloween candy lined up next to the Christmas string lights, and possibly a small box of candy hearts rearing its ugly head nearby.  Like me, he is a little baffled by it all, and came home to look at the calendar and realized he’s on the next to last Marilyn Monroe picture for the year…

All in all, in spite of our concerns, we are making tiny strides that will eventually get us to wherever it is we are going.  And J seems to be OK with that, and if J is OK with that, we’re OK with that.

And, for today at least, that’s all there is…

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