If I Didn't Love You So Much, I'd Give You The Day Off!

Since Christmas, Grace has been adapting to going to college two days a week and having a long, busy day out with the home-education group once a week as well. This adds up to THREE very long, busy days out for her in a row. I always let her sleep in the following day and she has plenty of time to de-stress, recover, potter about in her room and draw, which she does rather manically as a way to process information and experience, and to sing, a soothing activity for her. She really needs this decompression time. It is very stressful on her to be out of the house for three long days in a row each week.

But on Fridays, I've been insisting she do a full day of home-ed work, to keep things ticking over for her and to ensure her education is still full-time, according to the law, if not for any other reason. If Jamie is on a late shift, he'll do Maths with her durig the morning, which she enjoys. Doing stuff with Jamie, not so much the actual Maths! Or we'll get on with ASDAN projects. I really want her to achieve an award through this, so she has something to take into college to say, 'See what I can do!' I want a sense of achievement for her to feel too, that she carried on working on her education full time until she gets a job. It's also important that she realises that learning is an ongoing process and continues for most people into adulthood.

Of course, *I* can see the larger picture when it comes to still encouraging her to continue learn at home, but sadly, she can't. She doesn't 'do' larger pictures. Her autism means she can only accept and process the immediate and right then she wanted the day off.

Yesterday morning, when she realised I was (yet again) insisting on her working that day, she stomped around in her pj's, outraged I should have any demands on her time at all. Eyes were rolled, doors were slammed, loud sighs continued for some time. Eventually, I called up the stairs after her:

'If I didn't love you so much, Grace, I'd give you the day off!'

Sometimes, I don't know if I make sense even to myself, let alone to Grace. It seemed such a ridiculous statement. I turned and looked at Jamie and we laughed. It was a sad laugh. But at least we can see the absurdity of our lives.

I think that sentence will go down in the book of Odd Things I Never Thought I'd Hear Myself Say, along with these other gems,

'Don't expect those children to know how to take turns nicely, they go to school.'

'Yes, we actually believe all that Christian stuff,' and my personal favourite:

'Owl pellets, anyone?'