One Day a Time

I remember years ago, in the final week of school before Christmas, when my son with ASD was failing several classes in middle school, I couldn’t get him interested in anything but video games, and his favorite pastime was kicking his brother down the stairs, I hit overwhelm! The crowning blow came at 5:30 a.m. one morning as I scrambled to pick up the clothes, dishes and garbage from the floor of his bedroom before the cleaning lady arrived to clean (in itself it is immensely frustrating that he won’t keep his room picked up, but in my world this issue has been consigned to the category of picking your battles. As a working mother, I just didn’t have enough capacity to fight the clean room issue every day). I was on parental max-out.

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