Grandparents in town

My parents came into town for a visit today. So far Sam has coped with their presence better than I ever could have expected. They aren't complete strangers to him, but as they only visit a few times per year, he doesn't know them well.
When my mother asked for a kiss he went up and kissed and hugged her, then (upon request) to my father as well. They can't believe the difference in his speech and behavior in just a few months and say that his eye contact seems completely normal. Then he asked my mother to watch him play a new game he'd come up with, sliding down the stairs on a boogie board. "Watch me, Grandma!" and "I went really fast!"
Then, when I told him he was crazy, he answered back, "You're crazy, Mom!" then for good measure, "You're crazy, Grandma!" and "You're crazy, Grandpa!"
Thom made his presence known in his own way by proudly walking five or six steps, then collapsing to the floor.
On the not-so-great side, (the bad part being the reason) the co-sleeping arrangement may, thankfully, soon come to an end. My husband watched Sam pinch Thom's nose closed in an attempt to halt his loud breathing. He's going to start rocking Thom to sleep in Sam's room, then putting Thom to bed in our room once Sam has fallen asleep. Let's hope it works out. Sam needs to start sleeping in his own bed, in his room.

Good words

Sam enters the room while I am cuddling Thom, who is awakening from his nap.

Sam: Hi Mom! Time to get up!

Me: Honey, first I need to cuddle Thom, then I'll get up.

Sam: First cuddle Thom, then get up. Ok!

--pause--

Do you need five minutes?

Me: Yes, I would love five minutes, thanks.

Sam: Ok! I'll be back soon!

(Shuts door behind him, then reopens it less than one minute later.)

Sam: Time to get up, Mom!

Mom: (sigh.)

Different life

I've been pondering lately how I've managed to forget how much autism changes even small every day activities, especially since I've had a second child, who has recently made the passage into toddlerhood.
We went into our favorite local yarn store today, something I would not have dared do with Sam a year ago. On the way in, I reminded him that he was not to touch any yarn. Well.....he was great! He didn't touch any of the yarn. Instead, he touched the fountain, and the mannequins, then entered the employee area, then stepped into the front display windows. But he didn't, once, touch any of the yarn. What can I say, except that maybe I need to write some social stories about how to behave in public places? He also did a great job of listening to the store owner and helped to wind my balls of yarn. He got a lollipop when we got back to the car for doing exactly as I asked. (GRAPE lollipop! THANK YOU, Mom!)
Even with Sam on his best behavior, it was still a big hassle. I forgot exactly how difficult it can be to hold a toddler on one arm while simultaneously shuffling through my purse with the other, fending off little hands and the odd bid for freedom (arching his back) as I went. And of course, the toddler will heed no such admonitions to keep away from the yarn and was snatching everything he could reach. The shop is small and it was hard to keep an adequate distance away from one shelf without moving directly into the other.
Lest I rest too heavily on my relief that a four year Sam is so much more biddable and better behaved than in the past, my husband today called to inform me that the reason my car stereo had ceased to work was due to a nickel that had been inserted into the cd slot. Removing the nickel cost an extra $100. And, while the stereo works now, apparently the only way to turn it off is to turn off the ignition; the power button no longer does the job.
I feel as though I'm moving past the grief into a better acceptance of Sam's diagnosis and have been more willing to talk/think/write about it recently. It's still hard, but no longer overwhelming. So, more to come.