Fighting through the fog

This morning Seth had another fit. I was anticipating it and after a while cuddling I still packed him off to school (I'm so heartless!)

Its the beginning of a new term and Seth always fits then. My belief is that it's because his brain is expected to work that much harder all of a sudden; coping with a routine again and lots of one to one cognitive and physical excercises and it freaks out. (Not that Craig and I don't do that but it's a lot laid back during the holidays!) This morning during breakfast (again, lots of Seth's fits happen whilst eating and especially during breakfast) Seth was actually incredibly 'switched on', really vocalising and moving his hands and arms and looking around. It was great but weird and I knew that a fit was inevitable. It's strange, and a bit sad, that when you're child is being more interactive you know that it's just a precursor to him spacing out and that it's going to be shortlived and that as soon as Seth manages to break free of the fogginess that must surround him all the time he's pulled back in.

That's how I imagine it anyway when I try to understand what life is like for him; when I have the flu and I'm trying to concentrate on something but my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool and everything is so difficult. That's the impression Seth gives me when he's got a toy or spoon in front of him and he's trying to move his arms and hands in order to grasp it. & that's how I think it is for everything he tries to do; think through things, walk, eat, speak. The good news is that he just needs to find a path through that fog to achieve something. The fog is very dense and it takes a long while to inch his way along, and it's very easy to stay where he is and just do what he's comfortable doing, and every so often while he's inching he gets an electrical shock (my idea of a fit) but with perseverance a path is forged and a new activity learned.