Couch

I have a confession:  I sleep on a couch.

Tomjon has had many difficulties sleeping without a parent.  I fear to reckon the number of times I have slept the night through in my own bed since his birth.  Less than 20?  These days, night-time crises see me and my boy camping out on our gloriously large couch.  I insist on getting the longer leg of the L.

Last year (year 1 of his diagnosis), we saw some great strides forward.  1) Sleeping for most of the night.  2) Single wakeup, not multiple.  3)  Occasionally sleeping the night through.  4) *Calm* wakeups, because he has become able to verbalize pain and fear.  Escalation has disappeared from our daily vocabulary, even if not entirely from our life.

We have had a ‘friend’ helping, it’s true.  His pediatrician prescribed melatonin, as many children with ASD have a deficiency in it.  So since that time Tomjon has been enjoying a nightly instant-dissolve “chocolate paper” … truly a friend to his parents, and calming for Tomjon.

Things were improving.  I got madly hopeful that I might be able to see regular use of a grown-up bed.

But.  (“But” is the prelude to most bad news.)  Since we started pushing him to use his bed, Tomjon has started coming downstairs to the couch midway through the night, blankie in hand.   At first, quietly.  Later, calling for Daddy or crying the house down.

So I am back on the couch again.

First post

I like to write things down.

But this won’t be a blog about the usual suspects:  politics, religion, sports, or even - despite my name - crafts.  This is a blog about a dad and his not-so-typical family.

Who we are:  Mom, Dad, Tomjon, and Cookie.*  Tomjon is 4 and has been diagnosed with ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) for a little over a year.  Cookie is almost 3 and appears “neurotypical”, which means that she doesn’t show signs of autism.

Our life has narrowed sharply in focus these past couple years.  Before the diagnosis there were the endless sleepless nights that meant we rarely showed up anywhere.  There was also the odd quirks and embarrassing behaviours we couldn’t quite explain.  Since the diagnosis we still have sleepless nights, but now our lives are consumed with the unending quest to help Thomas overcome his hurdles.  And yet still keep a semblance of a family.  More on this theme later.

- Cd.

*Names have been and will be changed to protect the innocent and their privacy.