Ordinary Days

Last night was a bit rough. Elijah was up every 30 minutes, sneezing and coughing. Eventually, at about 3 am I decided to bring him into bed with us. Normally, being in mom and dad's bed is too thrilling for Elijah. He'll look at the alarm clock, his monitor, or anything that emits light and laugh. Laughing isn't really conducive to sleeping. We learned long ago that sleeping with us just didn't work and we stopped bringing him in our room. A blessing, perhaps, to have our bed to ourselves. But last night was different. Elijah snuggled in laying on top of me (just like he used to when he was a baby), wiped his slime all over me, and went to sleep. He slept until the morning and we did too.

Whenever Elijah gets all snugly, I get nostalgic. I remember in these moments that this will all be over soon. Elijah will only be this little once. Someday soon he'll be too big to lay on top of me in our bed. He'll be too big for me to cradle in my arms. He'll be too big to pick up and rock. He's already getting too big.

Perhaps this is a lesson that has come slower to me than most parents because Elijah achieves milestones later than his neuro-typical peers. Sometimes it seems like we'll be stuck in a developmental stage forever. And then everything changes and I realize that soon he'll be a full-fledged boy, and teenager, and then adult. It'll be here sooner than I realize. I'd better soak it up, take it all in, and enjoy every single moment. Milestones or not, Elijah will get older. Things will change.

Elijah's babyness is pretty much gone. He's a toddler, a little boy - there really isn't much baby left in him. And I wish I'd have enjoyed the baby-Elijah more instead of worrying so much (something I hear a lot of other special needs parents say too). But what I can do is to enjoy him NOW - exactly as he is. I can enjoy each and every ordinary day we have. Because I'm sure my parents look at me, their youngest, and think "Where did the time go?" (Thanks for everything mom and dad!).

Ellen shared the following video on her blog and I wanted to share it here too. It's author Katrina Kenison reading from her book The Gift of an Ordinary Day (now I want to read it!). No, it's not about special needs and some of the things the author says won't be relatable to all parents. But I think the lesson is the same...to enjoy every single moment. Milestones or inchstones, childhood is gone before we know it. We'd better enjoy every moment.

If you're a parent you'd better grab your tissues, because I can pretty much guarantee that your eyes will leak.




I'm going to enjoy this ordinary therapy-free day at home with our snotty-nose boy. I hope you have an ordinary day too.

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