We
are really lucky. In the last few months life has gotten a bit easier. Asher
and Abby Kate are rocking school and Amelia’s ABA therapy has really started
making a difference in how she interacts with the world around her. If you take
out me breaking my leg, life would have been pretty amazing and even with the
broken leg it has still been so much better than life was this time last year.
One
big change happened when we started receiving respite care. 40 hours a month of
babysitting thanks to the US Navy almost makes up for the premature wrinkles
and gray hairs the same Navy has given me over the last 9 years. Enter K, our
amazing respite provider. I knew when I talked to her on the phone the first
time that it was going to be a fit and my kids freaking adore her. I thought I
would feel guilty leaving them to go do my own thing, but they’re more excited
than I am to have K time, which makes dates even more enjoyable.
Today
was my first day using respite time to do my own thing instead of going out on
a date. Husband is on duty which means he works overnight so I thought it would
be a good time to have some me time and do some studying.
There is no fear quite like when the phone
rings and it’s the babysitter. We text back and forth most of the time, this
was actually the first time she ever called me when I was away from the house.
My heart was racing.
“Don’t
panic, everything is okay”
K
is a mom, she knows I was panicking from the moment her name popped up on the
phone.
“What
happened?” because I knew she wouldn’t call if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Amelia
figured out the locks on the door. I was sitting at the table playing with
Asher and Abby Kate and she went and very quietly got a toy to stand on and
unlocked all the locks. She was so quiet but Winnie started freaking out so I
got up and she was on the front porch getting the package that had been
delivered. Winnie was right with her and barking for me.”
She
had only gotten up from the table a minute before.
I
couldn’t help it, even knowing it was all okay, I started crying.
What
if Winnie hadn’t been with her? What if she didn’t just want to get the
package? What if K wasn’t so on top of it and didn’t get up right away?
What
if…. What if….
I
thought 3 locks were enough. I thought it was high enough for her not to reach
it standing on anything less than a chair (which I would notice if she was
dragging through the house). She’s never been too interested in elopement, so I
thought we were safe. The only time before today she’s wanted to go outside was
when Daddy was out there and she wanted Daddy. Now? Now I “What if”. I also
went and bought a child lock for the handle and one of those magnet alarms that
screams when the door/window/whatever is opened. It’s even got a 4 digit code
so she can’t mess with it without it going off.
I
know that all parents “What if” but I never have done it with my two
neurotypical kids the way I have since I had my little neurodiverse girl. I “What
if” everything I do, because deep down I “What if” if God knew what He was
doing when He gave her to me.
At
least tonight I know the answer to “What if she manages to get through the
child lock on the knob and all three of the other locks?” is that there will be
120 decibels to let me know… and a dog named Winnie.
