It snowed last night. 20-25" fell on top of the other 5" that fell after Christmas. And so, we are home and will be home again tomorrow. Another quiet week.
These days together bring out the best in my son. He snuggles under the blanket with me. He says, "I'm playing footsie with you." We read. We build a fire in the fireplace and watch the flames. We bake. We drink hot tea (his has 1 lump of sugar and 2 ice cubes). Is he mimicking me when he lays his head back against the sofa and closes his eyes as if to dramatize how soothing a cup of hot tea can be.
Today he helped his Dad — he really was helpful as he helped — shovel snow. He cleared the table. He played games with his sister. And of course he plugged in for a few hours with the iPad.
Over these past few weeks, in the hush of the snow days, I've seen my son in a too rare light. He has been perfectly at ease in the rhythm of our home, secure in the embrace of our entire family without a hint of anxiety. The only thing I've noticed at all is that he has begun to baby talk more. I make him aware of it, he repeats what he said and corrects his tone, I respond to his comment then and life moves on at such a wonderful relaxing pace.
With the snow has come a rare hush, almost as if we never knew how autism filled his school days.
Silver Lining: Like the snow, my silver lining came in abundance, 20-25 inches deep.