Bye Baby Bunting

Sam has a cold today, and I was concerned about sending him to school as he can't always tell you if he is feeling ill. I rattled off a note to his teacher and sent him with this, hoping she'd read it. He has been sent home so many times for bad behaviour when he's been really quite ill. After last week's chair throwing episode I wasn't certain he'd last the morning if he wasn't well, but he did.

However, I could tell that he wasn't feeling great because he was obsessing about going to Aldi where he'd seen a parking sensor he wants. It looks like a mini traffic light and he just has to have it - we're making him 'earn' the money for it - and he wanted to check that the shop still had them. Once there, he demanded I buy various other things instead, because he knew he hasn't earned enough money for the sensor.

I find these trips very difficult. If I hadn't taken him, his anxiety about whether the shop still had them would have resulted in difficult behaviour. Yet I don't want to feed his anxieties, either.

I miss normal. I miss not being able to pop into the shop for a pint of milk without having to explain why we can't spend £55 on a portable DVD player, when he needs it, now. I miss not being able to 'pop' anywhere. If I take Sam shopping I have to prepare a visual timetable and a visual shopping list. I have to explain if we go to shops not on our list, or buy items we haven't previously drawn. I don't feel resentment, just utter sadness that our little boy is terrified of spontaneity, of freedom and impulse.

After a manic few hours spent trying to calm Sam, he spent much of this evening, following his bath, hiding under a blue towel watching an episode of "Chuggington" on iplayer eating brioche and repeating his favorite lines over and over. R thought this was hilarious and tried to hide with him, much to his horror. She then proceeded to parade around the living room with a towel draped over her, bumping into the furniture. So much for settling down quietly before bed.

When I finally got her to bed she was hyper. Sam loves watching "Horrid Henry" and R lay in her cot singing "Na na na na na!". Oh my goodness! Suddenly, I remembered the nursery rhyme "Bye Baby Bunting", and, as I couldn't bring myself to sing the "Horrid Henry" theme tune as a lullaby, I sang this, and finally she drifted off happily clutching Foxy.