It’s One of Those things
As mothers, we know when all is calm it is never a good thing.
Logan, my youngest, is cute and mischievous, and he constantly sends my husband and I into blind panic. But he does it so well.
At almost 7-years-old, Logan is the little energizer bunny in cute kid form. He’s non-verbal due to apraxia, a condition that causes a kind of disconnect between the brain and the mouth. He generally finds a way to tell us about life in a way that is equal parts necessity and exasperation.
Of course I should know that he wants a drink. He grabbed my hand and drug me all the way into the kitchen, didn’t he? (That’s his little “I don’t understand adults” face as he does it)
I should realize that endless hours of entertainment were curtailed by not allowing him to rip the carpet up one loose string at a time. He was methodically pulling that one strand from one end of the room to the other, wasn’t he? (yes, and leaving a nice trail of missing carpet in his wake, but that doesn’t really matter now, does it?)
And by now, I should realize that quiet, and Logan – they don’t go hand in hand. You would think, since he’s mostly non-verbal, that I would be used to the quiet. But the fact is, he is always letting us know what’s going on in his little head. So, when I heard an infectious giggle I knew the quiet immediately following could not be a good thing.
I was quite right.
I found him happily stuffing papers through the top of the window, and out into the yard. I should have connected two and two at the time. I should have realized that he must have happily been stuffing many other items through that open gap in the window for the entire five minutes he was out of sight, not just the minute or so I realized the giggle was a rallying cry to intercede in my child’s enjoyment of life.
I would have realized. I know I would have. But, you see, I was just a bit distracted by the fact that he was naked, in front of my front room windows, without a care in the world!
I was still recovering from my shock when my husband came into the room a moment later. By then, Logan was tapping on the front storm door (undoubtedly wanting to retrieve his treasures), still naked. Did I mention I was still in shock?
So it must be forgiven that I completely forgot about that open window as we commenced ”chasing’ one happily naked boy. In case you are wondering, in case you hadn’t guessed (boys will be boys, after all), Logan is autistic. His world and ours generally collide in hilarious and sometimes nerve-wracking ways.
Back to that window. I haven’t forgotten that I did … never mind. Let’s just say that everyone was finally dressed and a few hours later my husband and I were just outside the front door, when what did our wandering eyes behold?
- my missing headbands (six brightly colored fashion statements)
- two small round balls (from Logan’s personal collection)
- a few sheets of paper (a couple notes from school)
- two plastic cups
- one fork
- one small action figure
- one shoe
- a sock
- a few snack crackers
- some loose toilet paper
I stopped keeping track. I think, though, that there might have been some loose string somewhere in there too.
Later in the evening, I was typing on my computer when I heard Logan step up onto the wooden chest that stands before the large bay windows. He was quite disappointed that the window was tightly shut, barring him from throwing his latest acquisition, a book, out the window.
I, on the other hand, was quite happy as I turned back around to keep typing. Until that book hit me on the head a moment later.
I guess Logan knew who spoiled his fun, huh?
I am such a mean mommy!