My son excels at imaginative play, of all things. (He hasn't been officially diagnosed, but I suspect he is neurotypical.) I love him dearly, but he is mentally exhausting. His sort of play is utter chaos and requires getting ALL HIS TOYS spread ALL OVER THE HOUSE. I don't mean a pretty magazine picture or television show scene of a "messy house" with a handful of trucks and stuffed animals tossed around artfully. I mean his room, the living room, the hallway between them is a veritable minefield of scattered building blocks, train tracks, pretend food, foam letter pads, and a million other things. Walk through the house at your own risk. Why can't he just line up his toys in neat order, like I did when I was a kid?
I've just given up. I can't deal with it. I pick up one box of stuff, turn my back, and something else has been dumped out. There's no benefit to cleaning. It just comes back, worse than before. He needs all his toys out at all times. I'm exhausted. I have a couple square feet of counter space free for my projects, and it's all I can do to keep that available.
Every thirty seconds I hear "mommy, mommy" and it's like nails on a chalkboard. I have no energy reserves left, physical or mental. I am empty.
I've just given up. I can't deal with it. I pick up one box of stuff, turn my back, and something else has been dumped out. There's no benefit to cleaning. It just comes back, worse than before. He needs all his toys out at all times. I'm exhausted. I have a couple square feet of counter space free for my projects, and it's all I can do to keep that available.
Every thirty seconds I hear "mommy, mommy" and it's like nails on a chalkboard. I have no energy reserves left, physical or mental. I am empty.
