The prince of routine

Some may define structure as a plan or an organization strategy that is consistent. Though I agree with the definition, I find it difficult to implement it in a concrete form at times for Sawyer. The thing is, his type of structure is very black and white and as he is getting older, it can change without a narrative that has any rhyme or reason to it.

Living with Sawyer has certainly taught me that whatever I think I know about what he needs tends me to discover more questions than answers.

I do know the basics right now. He likes to do EVERYTHING by himself. He wants to pick his own clothes. He wants to fill the tub. He wants get his own water. He needs to open the door for anyone who comes to it. And most of all, he needs things to go his own way. If not, the ripples of his distaste are felt throughout the household.

Sometimes this is cute. Sometimes it’s charming. Sometimes it’s maddening. The thing is that Sawyer needs to learn that Sawyer isn’t the only one in a house or in the world.

From the outside, many see how much he has changed. I agree. However, as much I do celebrate his growth, I still want him to learn. I mean there is a huge difference of cuteness of running towards the refrigerator to slam it shut at near 7 years old between the possibly of doing the same thing at age 12.

It’s these social parts to him that I do worry about. I don’t want his world to crumble for the day if his pencil breaks at school, which could cause him the fear of using a pencil for 2 months or more.

Now this hasn’t happened but as Sawyer gets older, it could.

So for now, the prince continues to be consistent. However, the prince’s father searches for ways to add flexibility and understanding to his routine. It’s a never ending adjustment that redefines the structure for all.

Dear 2018

Sawyer,

Many spend hours upon hours creating their New Years resolutions. The range of what these new goals come from is about as predictable as your reaction to when the WiFi goes out. Everyone is just that different and in being different, I find more ways to relate to you. This is one of the gifts you have given me as I no longer crave for you to be anything but who you are.

I think I learned this in 2017. It wasn’t until I saw you with your peers on stage for your kindergarten graduation. You were so cute in your suspenders and bow tie. Even if someone didn’t know you, they would know that you were someone just from your presence. You just put a lot of smiles on people that day.

What a day that was. I finally found myself closing my eyes and feeling calm. If it was a movie, the camera would have pulled away from my expression and some sort of happy melody would have played in the background. Or the credits would roll with the text of a lighthearted epilogue.

The great thing is that this isn’t a movie. This is reality. I got to see you change in ways that I didn’t anticipate in 2017.

You gave me moments of conversation even though it wasn’t daily. It happened. It’s there inside you and nobody can take that away from you and nobody can take that from us.

You showed an interest in having play dates. Even when it happened, you had a tough time playing but you tried!

I even heard rumors that they are working with you on tying your shoes at school? Incredible!

So 2018 is here, Sawyer. I don’t know what I want as my resolution. It took me 365 days to really understand what I wanted in 2017.

Just know that I promise to learn with you and love you, your brother, sister and mother with all of my being in 2018.

It’s because of you that I’m understanding how important each year truly is.

I love you,

Daddy