Tonight I cried, as I often do when I think about the sensory nightmare that my kid and each of our kids must be enduring through.    I was lucky to still be in the car, my best place to weep and grieve.

I hate that I have to be such a strict mom.   For I am.  I have been trained to be that.  It haunts me that his impulse-control choices will only have larger and larger consequences.

At the end of a 7-hour school day, my son pines to decompress like this.   I wait until he says he is ready to go.  It’s quiet freedom, bleeding off everything that accumulates.   I watch quietly, sharing in the pain and victory from afar.  He sometimes wants an audience to appreciate his new tricks.

So, honor your children when they try to show what they need at the end of an endurance.   How they find their serenity now.

They are our heroes, braver than we are.  And we think we are pretty brave ourselves.

Best,

Gayle