The One Where We Meet the OT

It’s 2:30 on a Wednesday.  PX has refused to nap all day and is sitting on the couch, blinking back sleep.  Rizzle has just finished having a complete sensory overload meltdown, hair all frizzed about.  Everyone looks like a zoned out hot mess.  Naturally, this is the start of our first OT consult. 
Luckily, she came prepared with a bucket full of Playdough and Playdough toy sets.  PX’s eyes lit up and, as the Thomas the Train table came out for activity time, his second wind kicked in.  Our services lady had also come prepared with a pressure/squishy vest.  PX didn’t resist one bit when we decided to give it a whirl.  And then he stood, like a typical two-year-old, and played.  At the table.  Surrounded by 4 adults and 1 birthday girl.  For almost 10 minutes.
Vest – 1.  Sensory overload – 0.
And so we spoke of hyposensitive sensory seekers and heavy work and creating a diet high in proprioceptive and vestibular activities.  All the while, I was thanking myself silently that I’d read more than just the checklists in “The Out-of-Sync Child” and have spent my nights pouring over blogs and SPD websites; special needs parenting, you really do have your own language.  I feel as if I’m preparing to defend my doctoral thesis, trying to become as fluent as humanly possible in SPD.  But there.  Is just.  So much.  And even more “trial and error” learning, and discovering your kid can be sent into overload before bed from one wrong move.  Oy.  I will be the Popeye of parenting, SPD my spinach, if it doesn’t all kill me first.  (It won’t…hopefully…)

The Sleep Issues (How am I Not Bald?)

I have to admit, I hate bedtime.  I dread nightfall with every fiber of my being.  (This is probably payback for when I had a snarky reply to my ex’s “Kids mean you never sleep again!” comment/argument against having children.  Fucking karma, you’re a bitch.)  Bedtime is obviously inevitable and sadly the extreme issues come in waves.  Right now, we’re smack dab in the middle of the WORST WAVE EVER. 
8pm rolls around and Rizzle, the youngest, is fairly ready for bed.  After a couple of stories and fluffy mama snuggles, she puts herself to sleep (typically with no protest) with her dolly and musical seahorse.  Nice, right?  Well, it’s all downhill from here.
Px, the terrible two-er, is visibly tired.  He woke up from his nap 6 hours ago.  We’ve done sensory activities throughout the day.  He’s in his squeezy/pressure vest and has been for half an hour.  But he’s two, and stubborn, and probably on the spectrum, so he stims.  He runs back and forth a thousand times, or digs a car out from under the couch (the ONE FUCKING TOY WE MISS), or plays throw the lovey across the room.  Every time he begins to relax, his eyes all heavy and sleep seconds away, he launches himself off the couch and into a stim.  Daddy and I are frazzled (hah.  understatement of the year.) by 10pm, sometimes 10:30pm, when he finally lets sleep come.
If we’re lucky(!), Rizzle stays asleep until 11pm.  But then, it’s 1-2hours (maybe more!) of pure insanity.  She wants bottles, and Tylenol, and her coveted fluffy mommy pillow.  No, Daddy will not do even momentarily so mommy can take 30 seconds to pee.  Don’t try laying me down without proper cuddling or I will SCREAM and SCREECH for-ev-er.  And definitely wake up my brother.
By this 1am time, my sciatica is flaring up.  My entire left leg is in throbbing pain, I feel hungry, and wind up awake for another hour or so.  But we best not breathe the wrong way or Rizzle will wake aaaaaagain.  For who the hell knows how long.  And occasionally wake Px, who will then be up for an hour.
What time is it now?  Oh hell, it’s probably best not knowing considering they will be up by 6am. So it’s best to just roll over, curl up, and dream of sleeping for longer than a minute at a time.
I think I may be permanently a sleep-deprived zombie now; cross in front of me and I will eat your braaaainz!  Mine is long gone so I need whatever I can get, with a side of coffee.  May no one ever make the “Oh she’s still not sleeping through the night?  She should be sleeping through the night BY NOW” comment to me ever again, I cannot be held responsible for my reaction.  I am a zombie now, after all.