My younger son is three, and my daily, fairly predictable, life has become insane. I end almost every night, recently, in tears. Either of relief that one more day is done, or of pure exhaustion. Most of the time it is a little bit of both. There is a certain amount of solace that I find, in hearing from others, that neither he nor I appear atypical. Also, it does not appear to be anything to do with my disability or my skills as a mother. It is purely that I am a stay-at-home mom, who does not drive, and my son is a smart, active 3yr old.
Similar to how a woman is able to forget parts of the agony of childbirth, our minds are able to block out periods in our life that could be classified as torturous. I have found it crucial at this stage of my son’s development, to invoke every resource I have. I have and will continue to accept all forms of help. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.
I refer to this stage as limbo because my son is not a toddler, not yet in school, very independent, but requires fulltime observation/ care. He and I are stuck in this very slow-moving purgatory or limbo. Having an older son, I know the end is near and we both will get through this, but while you’re trying to make it through sometimes the finish line becomes a blur.