Miles To Go

As we neared the end of our time with the developmental preschool, I was finding myself frequently overcome with fear. In the preschool he was safe, loved, growing, thriving. He was getting speech and occupational therapy of a really high caliber. He was accepted by his peers and comfortable. His teachers, paraprofessionals, and therapists were not just people whose job it was to help our son, they became much like family. They would send text messages to tell me how Miles was doing or worried when he would regress and check in to see if things changed. Their love and caring for my son was more than I could ever have dreamed. The thought of losing them as a daily part of Miles' life was not only sad, but terrifying. How would he handle that transitions when even small transitions were a struggle for him? Would the next set of teachers and paraprofessionals and therapists have the same interaction with Miles or would we end up in one of the horror stories you read about online whe...

    The next several months of our life revolved around weekly OT and speech therapy appointments. All of this was happening while I was managing a PT clinic and working 50+ hours a week. The strain was really beginning to take a toll on us as a family. Aside from the constant busyness that our schedule was providing, more concerning behaviors were coming to the surface. His emotional outbursts were not on the same scale as an age appropriate temper tantrum, and we were beginning to see him have real meltdowns, some lasting close to an hour. As his mom, they were scary to witness, and there was little that I could do to console him during these times. Often I would end up crying with him.      As a family it had been a tradition for us to go out to brunch on Sundays after church, but Miles was becoming increasingly more disruptive and struggled to sit still for a meal. His food choices were starting to narrow and rarely would he eat when we were out. Of...