As I settled in to sleep last night after a long snow day – knowing school was cancelled again today, and the hubby is gone and leaving with the two wonderboys and one snow blower – I entered that loving, dreamy state called Counting Your Blessings.  it’s when the bed is warm, drowsiness makes you stop the obsessive to-do list making, and you look back over the day in gratitude that the problems you have are yours, and no one else’s.

J. spent much of yesterday’s snow day with a new favorite blanket wrapped over his head.  OTs I know have said this is a move likely to intensify whatever sensory moment he was enjoying.  I worried at first when I saw this, then noticed the grin on his face, and an almost ethereal look of peace.  There’s a fine line between the ease of a day that has white space in the margins, and the confusion of too little structure and not enough to do for the kids who lack the ability to jump-start recreation on their own.  But really for much of the day he was in that zone – calm, relaxed and going with the flow.

Flexibility.   It’s an asset supreme for those of us with kids on the spectrum, and something J. showed in spades yesterday.  It’s something I didn’t think I had in my growing up years, but certainly get to practice now.  W. has the flexibility gene, too, although he needs more structure than J.  I watched W. drift from computer to beaded string play and back to his iPad yesterday as both parents struggle to mind the kids while doing the work across myriad time zones.  And as he ran upstairs to disrobe after dinner, W. even dressed himself in shorts before emerging from upstairs – a sign that all those social stories and repetitions of the household rules are sticking, at least sometimes.

Today especially, I vow to use my assets and those of my kids creatively, to meet the day and make the most of it.   Both boys’ generally easygoing nature and ability to learn, at however slow a pace, is a gift. So too, are my own abilities to creatively assemble the components of the day into just enough structure to meet needs – and my ability to flex that structure as time passes, and organizational skill enough to stuff 10 pounds of life into a 5 pound bag always.  Their love of something new which we often call a Car Trip, but is more than that – their desire for adventure from within the confines of the known – is something I cherish and not every autistic kiddo has.   And thankfully their love of sleeping in lately, like typical young adults, is a blessing for the overworked mom who is already spending way too much time blogging and not back on the work tasks.

Rather than sitting on those (ass)ets, I’m hoping to be mindful today of all that they are – to call them out, if I’ve forgotten them in both my kids and myself – and look forward to tonight’s dreamy Count Your Blessings moment where wrapped in the blanket called family, I smile at what the day has brought.