Still fighting the tide. After work the other night I took my car in for an oil change. My lovely boy availed himself of the TV in the kids’ corner while I sat next to him, on a child-sized chair, reading an article written by another mother of a son with autism. A son who is nothing like mine, now, but maybe once was. Before he grew into a violent young man. The monster inside my son is a horrifying read. I can’t imagine such a fate for my sweet boy. My child who still hugs me daily and never tires of repeating the same silly knock knock jokes and curls up with me to check out the latest on cute overload. His psychologist has been prepping me for changes that may come as he matures but hopefully nothing so extreme. Hopefully nothing more than some surliness and power-eating. Those I’ve been getting glimpses of and am prepared to deal with.
Our Friday was a mixed bag. We were both looking forward to seeing Monsters vs. Aliens on opening day, in 3-D even, and the boy asked who was going to join us. I rounded up some lady friends for an early evening showing. It was most enjoyable. Afterwards I’d planned to see Cryptacize but they canceled at the last minute. So I opted to stay in for the evening, despite other happenings happening around town. My heart wasn’t in it, thanks to the same old frustrations weighing heavily on me in the romantic realm. How many different ways can I say the same thing? If he didn’t get it the first half dozen times, why would he now? I took some risks and I’ve been paying for it. So I’m finally throwing in the towel. For real this time. But I prepped for this bout by watching Redbelt last night. Nothing like a David Mamet film to remind one of how bad choices can be amplified and go spectacularly wrong. And now I will be shadow boxing my way into (or maybe out of) a different kind of fight.