It's a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a habit of speeding up. ~J.K. Rowling
Just the word time builds up an overwhelming anxiety inside me. As a child I worried a lot about different things. I worried about the "what ifs" of life. Growing up as an only child I would imagine my parents being killed in some horrible car accident if they went out to eat without me. I worried about the house burning down or someone breaking into our house and killing my parents, but not me.
Now my worry is time.
Now my worry is time.
Today, I'm better able to mask that nagging little thing called worry. As an adult, it isn't becoming to walk around crying for mommy. Don't get me wrong, I've been tempted. Having children has a way of changing your whole outlook on life. You no longer worry about yourself, but rather you have this little human you created, who totally depends on you for all of life's needs. Worrying about children is a different dimension of psychosis. I've had the pleasure of having those worries magnified 1000 fold. When you have a child born with special needs or you have a child who doesn't develop normally, your world tilts slightly.
Time is so important when you're a special needs parent.
Time to get to each therapy session.
Time to speak to therapists.
Time to write down questions to ask the therapists.
Time to try new foods.
Time to throw away foods and supplements that never worked.
Time to research a new therapy or supplement.
Time to make a phone call to that world-renowned developmental pediatrician.
Time to find a dentist who works well with autistic kids.
Time for your child to socialize. (Even though he has no desire to do so.)
Time to engage and redirect. Usually at the same time.
Time to decide how much TV time is too much.
Time to teach appropriate play, when all you really want to do is sleep.
Time to simply play with my kid, cook, clean , work (ha), watch TV, read a book, take a stroll, get a manicure, go on vacation, go on a date with my husband, take a cruise, or book an all-inclusive vacation to a deserted island. Sorry, my imagination got the best of me...
Time to let my mind wander and think about the future. Will he be independent? Who will take care of him when we die? Will he ever speak or have a friend? What am I going to do about Kindergarten? Will he be ok in a regular classroom?
I need to know what it is going to do with my child. The need to know consumes my mind sometimes. Since I have no way of knowing, I will remain hopeful. I will continue to push Drake to be all he can be. I will lean on other parents who have similar fears and worries and most importantly I will pray.