I had an uh-oh moment this morning while rushing my oldest son through his morning routine. About 5 minutes before he’s supposed to get on the bus, he tells me he doesn’t have any pants to wear. In a panic, I dash into his room to double-check that this is, in fact, the case. There’s nothing. Not even sweat pants that he wears as pajamas. What to do?
Then I remember that on a whim I did a load of laundry last night, which I promptly forgot about. I got distracted with my boys and never put the clothes in the dryer. Feeling nauseous, I check the washing machine. The clothes aren’t there! I swing open the dryer door and realize that my husband remembered and did it for me. What a guy! We were saved!
I reach in to pull out a pair of pants and I get a sinking feeling. The clothes are damp. Oh, crap. Monkey has tactile defensiveness and can’t handle simple things like touching anything wet with his fingers. How will he handle this? I hurriedly instruct him to get ready to go (except for putting on pants), while I flip the switch to high heat on the dryer. I do a little prayer as I’m standing next to the dryer, watching the clock and tapping my feet impatiently.
Three minutes later, Monkey’s got about 90 seconds left before he has to dash out the door to head to the bus stop. He’s happily sitting on the floor in his room, waiting. This is a surprise because he’s typically anxious about the time, and watches the clock like a hawk. Thank God today he chose not to care. This could be a good sign.
I fling open the dryer, praying to find that the thinnest pair of pants feels somewhat dry. I pull them out and feel some dampness around the waistband, but the pockets seem alright and the legs are dry. We might be able to work a miracle here. I’m explaining to Monkey that I’m sorry that his pants are not perfectly dry, but it’s as good as I can do. I try to hurriedly help him get into the pants, and he winces from the heat of the clothing. I’m batting a thousand this morning. Temperature is another sensitivity he has, and I forget to quickly “air” the pants out before giving them to him. I reassure him that he’ll be okay, and that he shouldn’t worry about the damp waistband either. You know what he says to me? “It’s OK. They’ll be dry by reading time,” referencing his morning classroom schedule.
My worry immediately disappears and my heart swells up with pride. There seems to be a parting of the clouds in our hectic morning as he runs off to the bus stop. My little Monkey will be fine. He and his body are learning how to deal with the sensitivities. Maybe it won’t always be such a finely choreographed life. Maybe I won’t have to worry so much. Well, at least about damp pants.
