This latest stage of strange and wonderful behaviors is driving me batty. Sure, it isn’t publicly humiliating, but it is exhausting.
We time everything. Brushing teeth. Going to the bathroom. Eating yogurt and med. Everything is timed. Not race/timed, just timed. I guess it beats accosting neighbors for their GPS co-ordinates, but it is truly exhausting. I hadn’t realized he surrendered the stalking for the timing until Big Son pointed it out.
“At least he isn’t making us stop strangers, Mom.”
The little guy has ALWAYS been okay alone. A few days ago, he insisted on being on the same level with us all the time. Now, I had to sit in the room with him until he fell asleep. The Big Son had this from birth to about the age of 8. Still has it sometimes. But Mr. Independent? Never.
Have I mentioned that I’m really tired of these non-stop Bartonella herxes? It seems as if they are one unended Pop-Singers rehearsal (reference GLEE, but the 80’s version). Flashy, pretentious drama that gets humanity no where. That’s what it feels like. Herx, herx, herx. . . . and worse, worse, worse.
Somebody tell me this will get easier. Please?