Last Updated on July 20, 2012
A few months before Rachel was diagnosed with autism, I was having one of THOSE evenings. My husband was late. Dinner was still a mystery. The phone was ringing. Our oldest child wanted attention and was jabbering so fast my exhausted brain couldn’t follow. I hadn’t put on any makeup yet, and the cat had taken residence on the piles of laundry waiting to be put away.
The phone rang again. I ignored it and stepped around the corner to check on Rachel. I could hear her hooting and making other happy squeals, but I hadn’t seen her in five minutes. Plus, the tissue box was missing.
I rounded the corner between the kitchen and living room and gasped. I’d found the tissue box … empty. The remains were shredded around Rachel like a big white nest. She squealed and threw the shreds into the air like confetti. “Whee!”
“Well, it’s a good sensory activity,” I said. “That’s therapeutic, right?”
I started to walk away, but something was bothering me—a funny smell. I squinted at her. Rachel had strange white blobs on her arms and legs. I stepped closer and landed in something mushy. Ugh! Bananas. At least they had been bananas. Now they were toddler war paint.
My eyes teared up. This was not what I needed! I lunged for the massacred peels, but Rachel was faster and jumped on top of them. Then she squealed again. Woohoo, Mommy wants to play.
No, Mommy didn’t want to play. I wanted to run and hide. I was tired of constant mega messes like these. Why couldn’t my house be perfect like so many of my friends’? Why did I have to buy carpet cleaner in bulk?
Regardless of my feelings, I stuffed some chocolate chips into my mouth, grabbed the oxygen carpet cleaner, and went to work. After I scrubbed the carpet, bathed Rachel, did the resulting laundry, and cleaned up the trash the dog had eaten while I was cleaning up Rachel’s fun, I called my sister. As I told her the story, I found myself accentuating the humor, and we had a good laugh. In fact, when I later told my mother the story, she laughed so hard my dad got on the phone to see what was going on.
Along with chocolate, laughter is a healing gift from God wrapped in a gold bow. Next to prayer, I believe laughter has been one of my best coping strategies. So, I hope you can find something to laugh about today—just make sure you have some good cleaning agents on hand. Oh, and keep the bananas out of reach.
Jennifer Dyer has an M.S. in Communications Disorders, which served her well in her professional career as a speech-language pathologist. Never did she imagine that her education and career were God’s way of preparing her to be a mom to her own daughter with autism. Today, she enjoys reaching out to other families who face similar diagnoses. As a cancer survivor, carpet-cleaning veteran, and originator of the “Messy House Ministry,” Jennifer feels blessed to share joy, peace, and humor with others facing life’s challenges. She is mom to two beautiful daughters and is thankful to be raising them, serving other families with unique needs, and using her gift of writing and speaking to minister to others. Jennifer is also the author of a youth fiction book series and is trusting God with His timing on publication. Jennifer has been a mom for 11 years. She and Brandon have been married for 13 years.
Thanks for sharing this! It is easy to lose track of that sense of humor, when it is often the very thing to save a situation. My sweet mom always used to tell me, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” In your case I guess it could have been banana bread…
A typical day in the life of an autistic child’s household. I sometimes forget about the laughter part of the healing balm that God has given us. Thanks for the reminder.
Yeah, to the banana bread comment! Of course, in our house it'd have to be gluten free. Ha! Thank God for laughter.
Such a great post, Jenn. I had a day like this yesterday and my husband started laughing (I had yet to see the humor in the poop on the floor in Wal-Mart), and he said, "Sounds like a great blog!" I think it will take a week or so before I'm laughing that hard. 🙂
This only goes to show how important sharing is. An event that seems so overwhelming turns into a laughfulble memory when shared with a friend. It is also the reason having a blog site, where Mothers can share there experiences, is such a good idea.
Great post! Do they make gluten-free vanilla wafers for another sensory activity? She's got the pudding down already. Thanks for writing with such heart and humor.