Luke had a hard day on Tuesday. His Developmental Specialist came to work with him at 8 in the morning. This is his usual therapy time, but he just cried the whole time, so we cut his session in half. He followed me around all day wanting to be held. In the afternoon I dared to use the restroom without his help. I could hear him crying, but the wails abruptly stopped and I thought he had been distracted by something truly wonderful like a bottle of lotion or the toilet plunger. Twenty minutes later (no, I was not still in the bathroom), when I hadn't heard a peep out of him, I sent the girls to check on him. They came running back yelling, "Mom! You have to come see this!" Poor baby.
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