A very quick and somewhat frantic update, in response to Wendy's most recent (and much-appreciated) comment.
This is a busy weekend for us, as we are about to embark on a three-day whirlwind of festivities to commemorate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Siblings, inlaws, cousins, and friends are flying in from hither and yon to join us and though we've done our best to prepare Bud for the onslaught and give him lots of options for opting-out, it's hard to know how it'll go.
Here's how it started:
Last night I left before bedtime to pick up my sister and her two kids, who were flying in at 10:00 p.m. Bud knew that they'd be here when he woke up. As I climbed into bed around 12:30 a.m. I could hear Bud in the next room talking (loudly and at length) in his sleep. It continued for about a half hour, at which point he woke up and climbed into our bed. The talking continued, though now he was wide awake (and so was I.) At 2:30 a.m. I gave him additional Melatonin and he fell into a very restless sleep, tossing and turning and kicking my husband mercilessly until 6:00 a.m. At that point, we all threw in the towel and got up.
Bud was reluctant to greet his cousins. Instead, he pointed his miper at them, pressed a button and shouted "Be gone!" It didn't work. Luckily, my niece and nephew are older than Bud, understand him, and don't take those kinds of things personally. Bud eventually warmed up, especially when his cousin joined him (read: watched him) playing on the PBS Kids website.
Then it was time for school. I was relieved. It would give Bud a break, and a brief return to his normal routine.
When I brought him to the classroom, his aide let me know that Mrs. H had a meeting at the end of the day and would not be there at pick-up time. The substitute teacher is a woman he knows well and likes very much, so I thought that though this would be a bump in the road of his day, it would likely be a very small bump.
Warning: frost heave ahead.
When I walked to the door of the school to pick him up I found a note directing me elsewhere. It seems there was a septic back-up of some sort and the Kindergarten classes - both of them - had been evacuated to the school library. I walked in to find most of the children sitting together, and Bud at the far end of the room, in fairly good spirits, but pacing and talking a mile a minute. I told him it was time to go home; he asked if he could hide in his room. I told him he could.
We're home now. A handful of guests are here. The rest arrive in an hour. Bud's got the computer, the iPod, and the portable DVD player ready to roll. He's scoped out some hiding places. I'm just taking deep breaths and crossing my fingers.
Wish us luck. And stay tuned...