After tidying up the kitchen, I had an out-of-body experience.
Unbeknownst to me, while I was clearing the dishes and emptying the garbage bins, T tidied up the entire living room.
The tornado debris of his Hot Wheels and blocks were all cleared into bins. I had almost forgotten we had brown carpet underneath.
When he started to vacuum, first time ever, I thought, yup I was unconscious somewhere and this is the afterlife tempting me to step towards the white light.
The next morning on Sunday, after breakfast, T looked out at the fall leaves in our backyard and declared that we should rake them up.
It confirmed to me that I had landed not at the penthouse in the afterlife but in the basement.
Yard work is the hubby’s responsibility, he was still in bed, but I couldn’t turn down an offer from T to help with housework.
T did a great job. He was focused for 15 minutes, helping make big piles. Then he decided to run around the backyard. He circled back in the last 15 minutes to help me scoop leaves into bags.
I was thankful for this hour spent together in the brisk autumn air and disconnected outdoors.
It’s been three weeks since we’ve changed T’s medication.
While we’re having some challenges with daycare in the afternoon and meltdowns in the evenings, he seems more consistently focused and regulated during the day.
I’ve written in the past how it’s important for me to help T build a work ethic; to cultivate a work hard and work first before play hard attitude.
T likes to feel useful. It’s a matter of helping channel his endless energy in purposeful activities that motivate him.
He is motivated when he knows there’s play after the learning and work.
To reward him for having a super weekend, T went on an afternoon movie date with the hubby to watch “Ghostbusters: Afterlife.”
My reward was three hours of child-free time and I met up with friends inside the same mall as the movie theatre.
It was my first time seeing this wonderful group of friends since the pandemic started.
Laughing, catching up and having grown up conversation with childhood friends. It felt like heaven.