He woke up this morning smiling and playful. He came into my room while I was telling his older brother about the spider I had just killed. He kept trying to engage me, then leaned over and hugged me. The little one walked into my room and he began relating a conversation that he and she had last night, before bed. She was asleep when he went on his tirade, before that she was downstairs visiting with her Grandfather and his girlfriend. They didn’t have a conversation before bed. His younger brother was still upset with him this morning and he couldn’t understand why. I left his therapist a long message this morning. They made the choice to take him off his meds. They made the choice to put his services on hold when he was at Grandma’s. Now, we are suffering the consequences.
The other day someone asked me if I wished he was little again. Without thinking I said what the hell for? He was the same as he is now, just smaller. I don’t know him any other way. If he was little again, we would still have to take this same journey. We would still have to face these hurdles. No way in hell I want to put him or I through all this again.
This roller coaster ride is exhausting. I’m afraid to even guess which one of him will come in after school.

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