I woke up hyper and happy. My husband chased me out of the kitchen to eat breakfast in peace–I had been annoying him with songs about how wonderful his hair smelled. From the TV room, I bombarded him with dish towels and woos. Egor harumphed off when I did my recycled pepsi can dance, so I performed for the kitty instead. I need to remember that good moods do have a downside. An abnormal happy morning mood usually precedes abysmal afternoon anxiety.
I was excited and nervous over Tyoma’s upcoming day at the beach with our respite worker. At first, I balked at a beach outing, but I reconsidered. If Egor and I took him, we would be burned out by the end of the day. Ashley is a professional skilled at helping kids on the spectrum do new things. She has the skill and brain wiring to turn the day into a success.
Nevertheless, twenty minutes after Tyoma and Miss Ashley left, anxiety set in. Images of car accidents and tragedy invaded my brain. Ugh. The thoughts stubbornly circled as I folded laundry and picked up toys. I zoomed around the house, cleaning till it sparkled, hoping for distraction. Heh. I only managed to conjure more elaborate images of catastrophe. At last, I told my husband about my worries. “Ashley is a better driver than both if us. Tyoma will be fine.” This satisfied me and I quit obsessing.