
At long last, I think I have figured out the cause of the weekend meltdowns that M has been having almost every Sunday. I couldn’t figure it out – we’ll get to some point in Sunday, usually early afternoon, and he will go into a decline. He starts worrying about both of us or just him being thrown out of the house and telling me he doesn’t know what he’s doing “here.” I can never tell if “here” means in our house, in this situation, in this room or exactly what he’s talking about. And, of course, he can’t tell me either. Continue reading “Stop That Cleaning!”