Spinning of sky winds.

"Let me feel the heavy, silting, sucking mud, the spinning of sky winds. Give me nothing fixed, set, static." D.H. Lawrence

It is hard to remain in the present reality. Life is a constant meditation: see, listen, feel, smell, celebrate, cry. The mind drifts: But here, look, a Worry! It is Important! Bring it back to the snoring dog, the house finch, the 4pm sunlight on the painted brick, the wire of my bra pushing against my chest.

Last night my son snuggled next to me on the couch during our family silent reading time. He is just learning to read, so "silent reading" is interpreted liberally. The physical touches of C and our dog Alice were holy. C does not always need touch - it must be on his own terms - so these moments, while not rare, are cherished. He leaned against me while we read Hooray for Amanda and Her Alligator by Mo Willems. My daughter read her book on the loveseat, and my husband browsed on his phone in the recliner. In that moment, I reflected, as I turned the pages, This is exactly, what I want. This. This is it. This is what I want in life, what I have always wanted.

The memory cushioned my heart today. This morning my husband and I attended C's first annual IEP review. The last academic year was a year of crisis. The expression "clawed your way up" is used frequently but is apropos to our special education journey. There was a point in November of 2021 when we considered whether or not C needed in-patient hospitalization. We even drove to the ER. It was my worst nightmare. There were significant safety issues at school and home, and the boy I knew was in hibernation. His Id was wild and screaming in pain. He could not access his intellect, his processing speed was handicapped, and he did not believe in himself. I will never forget, even though I want to push those memories away. There are many kind and helpful individuals at C's school, but we also faced a buttload of bullshit.

I anticipate major events with an expectation that seems to have a presence not quite physical, not quite purely of the mind. Like a plutonic liquid of emotion -- I wonder if Emily's Wonder Lab could illustrate such a thing. My expectation is a Thing. It is like a shadow that swirls around me and keeps me in the fog of its shroud. Ephemeral. Today I played pump-up rock and pop, emailed our talking points to my advocate, and straightened my hair and swiped on mascara (a significant event in and of itself). I brought my notebooks, my printed-out emails, the IEP draft, last year's calendar and this. I texted my friends and posted in my support group.

The meeting was a success. It was collaborative, we fought to maintain the services we believe C still needs, we expressed our fears and we heard about his progress. The IEP document, like a foreign language last year, made more sense this time. His teacher, who is excellent, told us that he is exceeding grade-level expectations in math, literacy and writing. EXCEEDING. He could not access the entire alphabet last year. Apparently he routinely asks his teacher how her weekend was and compliments something he notices about her appearance (I like your blouse, Mrs. C!); he makes friends easily; he is intrinsically motivated by the academics and peer interactions. He is fucking thriving. HE IS FUCKING THRIVING! It was a team effort, a huge effort, from his equine therapist, private occupational therapist, school team, BCBA, teacher, and aide. And us. His family. I've been out of the workforce for a year and a half, and we are in debt. We needed a HELOC to afford our bills but goddammit our son is fucking thriving.

I was giddy after the meeting. J and I got food from Five Guys and watched trashy reality television. I updated my friends and thanked my support team. I picked C up from school while B stayed late for the Civil Rights Club. C and J skateboarded in the road, boarded on both sides by rulers of snow. And then, not 5 hours after the meeting and the elation, I started on my next worry: money. What will I do next for my job? Am I irresponsible because I'm not currently budgeting? Also, my children eat too much sugar. Also, I should cook a real meal tonight instead of frozen pizza.

I'm not sure what shook me out of it, but at some point (no, it was taking out the trash that the dog had started to munch), I mentally held up a hand. Stop. This is ridiculous. We just celebrated a major, MAJOR victory. It's not all pretzels and beer, but we've come a long way. I am going to enjoy this night. Even if I let myself off the hook for one evening, I am going to revel as best I can and try to bring my mind back to the present and the beauty that is in front of me.