Samuel was horribly cranky this morning.
Actually, he wasn’t simply cranky, he was cranky on steroids.
It may come from several sources: a lack of sleep because he has been wracked with anxiety lately, a lack of sleep because his chapped lips are bothering him, a lack of sleep because he is anxious about being anxious. I am not sure of the genesis, but I do know that for the last two mornings when I went to wake him he was wide awake.
I have no idea how many hours he is sleeping.
I emailed his teacher to let her know.
Samuel would not be successful if it wasn’t for her and for me, working with him as a home-school tag team.
I wonder if he feels stress because of the approach of Valentine’s Day. Last year this caused him sadness because he felt no one in his class liked him enough to give him a valentine. I remember the time we spent preparing the valentine cards. I remember he forgot them and I delivered them to school so they would be distributed. I remember the bag of carefully prepared cards returning in his backpack.
I remember Samuel being unwilling to talk about it.
I remember him crying daily in school.
This morning I thought he was tired enough to offer him a day off from school to rest. His face fell, immediately, “I don’t want to skip school!” he growled. “Look, you made me cry!”
My empathetic tears stayed perched behind my eyelids.
When I cry it upsets him so I have become quite adept at holding tears back even when the salt stings me.
These are the moments I rarely share, choosing instead to share his triumphs, his loveable “Samuel-isms.”
I take a moment within my busy morning to pray for him, silently.
I close my eyes to “see” him. I pray no one is poking fun at his chapped lips. I pray he is able to focus.
I pray he can feel, even underneath his grouchy exterior, how much he is loved.
I pray for other mothers, sitting in their kitchens, their boardrooms, their minivans and behind their desks: each of us worried we will get that call we pray we won’t get. That call saying our child is suffering, that something has happened, that when we weren’t there, he needed help we weren’t able to provide.
I have two neurotypical daughters. I worry for them as well, but it isn’t anything like this almost namelessly consistent worry that lives in my gut for Samuel.
I watched him walk to school yesterday morning and a thought entered my witnessing mind. “He will change the world.” I paused to reflect on the thought.
“He has changed mine all ready.”
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© 2012
Julie Jordan Scott









I had horribly chapped lips growing up and was very self conscious about it. My dad once bought me Chapstick to help with it but I hated the stuff and thought it was pretty worthless anyway. I did discover other brands later in life that did work for me. My favorite is Burt's Bees form of chapstick and next in line is the Wholefoods brand peppermint flavor. Both of these feel very healing to me. I also noticed over the years two things helped them not be as chapped during the day; brushing my teeth first thing in the morning and drinking plenty of water so that I wasn't dehydrated.
I am not sure if this applies but I love this website, Single Dad Laughing, and this is one of the blog posts that this wonderful man wrote in hopes of helping to stop kids from being bullied.
http://www.danoah.com/2010/10/memoirs-of-bullied-kid.html
I didn't fit in at school growing up and I never figured it out for myself. My oldest daughter also didn't fit in and things finally changed for her when she went to middle school; she was very bright and qualified for the GATE program. I thought that might make things worse but for the first time in her life she found other kids that were like her and she really started to blossom. Unfortunately she was having so much fun her grades slipped a little but I was really happy she was happy at school.
Even if the info is no help at all, know that my heart goes out to you both.
Peace,
Morgan
Posted by: Morgan Dragonwillow | February 08, 2012 at 03:23 PM
This is such a great post... it almost made me cry...
Posted by: Marie Noelle | February 08, 2012 at 06:38 PM
What a beautiful thoughtful post.
Posted by: carol anne | February 08, 2012 at 07:22 PM
It's inevitable that you worry about them as a parent. It's as involuntary as breathing. That Valentine's Story is heartbreaking. I hope that he has a better experience this year.
Posted by: Dawn | February 08, 2012 at 07:40 PM
Julie this is beautiful. I pray Samuel has a wonderful Valentine's Day this year and is sleeping soundly tonight. I also pray that writing these word can give you the same comfort of spilled tears. You are a wonderful mother.
Posted by: Nicole Rivera | February 08, 2012 at 07:45 PM
Julie this was so sweet I have tears in my eyes. Thanks for sharing. I have a friend who has an autistic son and he is the sweet soul I have ever meet.
From #commenthour
Posted by: Michael | February 08, 2012 at 08:11 PM
He is already changing the world. You are writing about him, and your experience raising him and enlightening people like me who have not been exposed to s special person like him.
#commenthour
Posted by: chasing joy | February 08, 2012 at 09:35 PM
P.S. Somehow I blanked on the title and went right into the post. I apologize if my comment seemed inappropriate. My first thought really was how miserable I had been being a kid with chapped lips and that I wished someone had told me about my options.
Raising children to be happy and healthy is a challenge but loving them is the most important part. You seem to have that down perfectly.
Morgan
Posted by: Morgan Dragonwillow | February 09, 2012 at 09:06 AM
Hi, Julie.
I love how you speak of your son. In my son, I see similarly awesome things. I don't post about them as often as I probably should. Or the days that are hard because the tag is making his neck hurt, the dry skin on his elbows snagged a his shirts...
I understand the joys and the grief. The way we wish our lives could be more "normal" but then how lucky we are that they are not.
This was beautiful Julie. Treasure them all. Not having any neurotypical children, I can only speak of my son, but I know I wouldn't change him for the world.
Posted by: Eden Mabee | February 10, 2012 at 07:42 PM