There was something about the holidays that was magical. The snow falling softly. The warm cup of coffee in hand as we critiqued neighborhood Christmas lights. The gatherings of friends and family.
I have to say, the holidays no longer feel magical. I think a lot of the “magic” of life is gone now. These days, my world revolves primarily around C’s health, therapy and feedings. Everything else just kind of…happens.
Our first holiday party was tonight. I dreaded it. It’s not that I didn’t want to see anyone, but I didn’t know how C would react. Would he gag or spit out someone’s food? Would it offend them? Would he hit someone? Would he break something? Would he have an accident because he didn’t want to go to the bathroom somewhere new? Would he have a tantrum? Would he freak out because they have dogs?
He did not have an accident or break anything, and he did do quite well on his dinner (by his standards). Did he hit someone? Yes, he hit his sister repeatedly. Did he tantrum? Yes, he full-on tantrumed, hitting me, kicking me, clawing at my face. Thankfully only one other person saw it, but I was still mortified. Did he freak out because they have dogs? Kind of. He happened to walk into the room where they were gated. They barked, he didn’t scream but he did get angry. He threw his water bottle repeatedly.
It was less than three hours, but I am exhausted. He and Baby Jo were the only children present and I find myself very anxious about the rest of our holiday functions, where there will be plenty of other children. Will he try to hit them? Will I ever be able to take my eyes off of him to actually be present in a conversation and enjoy myself?
Then there’s the guilt for feeling this way. He is such a darling boy with a loving heart. Will anyone be able to see that? Why am I expecting the worst from my sweet boy? Logic and experience tells me that I need to, but oh the guilt!