December is almost here, and you know what that means. Trips to the mall. Holiday parties. Christmas concerts. Family gatherings. School vacations. Hustle and bustle. And 31 solid days of out-of-control behavior from any child with a less than sturdy neurological constitution. Oh yes, the end of the year is near. The end of our rope, too.
My son is starting to react to the upcoming disruptions like a tuning fork. It hasn't helped that the last few weeks have hardly been routine, with his grandmother in the hospital and his Papa running off to visit her when he would normally be home keeping things steady. Mama's been taking up some slack with extra-curricular transport, and has had less time for the boy. The boy does not like having less time. And so scooginess is already setting in.
The month ahead will only increase that, exponentially. He's had some good weeks in school recently, saving the out-of-control behavior for us at home, but yesterday his teacher brought him to the door with that wide-eyed, shell-shocked look I know so well. It's starting, all right. And they're not even doing routine-busting Christmas program rehearsals yet.
All a parent can do, really, is hang on and pray for January. It's like being in Santa's sleigh when the reindeer have had too much eggnog. We'll try to keep things as routine as routine can be. But oh, how we'll long for the dull days of mid-winter.
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