It was a rough morning and Emmett was not easy to get off to school. He woke up in what's amounted to a horrible mood. He said he was tired and I'm not here to say he wasn't. The problem was all the fricking screaming.
Lizze was making lunches and I was trying to get Emmett dressed. The operative word in the last sentence is *trying. *
He was very anti-clothing, which usually means he's struggling with sensory issues.
I eventually succeeded in getting Emmet dressed, but to be completely honest, I'm not sure how I survived this morning. Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful that he made it to school but no I'm completely drained.
