It’s funny to me how the little things just don’t even cross my mind as odd anymore. I suppose that means I’m coming to accept these little quirks.
T has clothing issues. If it’s anything other than socks and it’s on the floor, it’s dirty. His pajama shorts and shirts are in specific (matching) pairs and you simply can’t wear one without its specified mate. I think I have finally grasped the match on that. Over 30 shirts in his closet and he only wears about five to six of them. Each of those shirts has a matching hanger, mostly the color of the shirt. We’ll not get into the fact that the little guy refuses everything new. I don’t want to stress now over what I will do when the boxers he sleeps in will no longer fit, I’m doing that enough with the single pair of socks right now. Yeah, he has new socks that I searched forever to find and are exactly the same as the old, though new and a tad bigger for a bigger foot, but he refuses them.
He normally helps put his laundry away. He stands at the closet and says “What’s next?” I say “Socks and Underwear,” (though I have no clue why I say socks plural when it’s usually just one pair) and he opens the appropriate drawer and I toss the stuff to him in the direction of the drawer, sort of trying to get it in there and he shoves in anything that misses and closes the drawer. Then we do it all over again with pajamas and shorts. It doesn’t matter if it’s no longer folded, it get shoved in anyway. Then, come the shirts where I have to describe each shirt, no he can’t just look at them in my hands, so he can select the coordinating hanger which he then throws at me (ouch!). I put the shirts on hangers and either hand or toss back at him depending on my mood.
Anyway, he was asleep last night and I had a shirt to hang. I was feeling pretty confident earlier in the day when I hung two shirts during a mini-meltdown. I knew the green shirt belonged on the green hanger and I figured the Lego shirt with blue sleeves required the blue hanger since blue is the main color of the shirt. I’m standing at his closet staring at 4 hangers and holding a blue shirt. None of the hangers were blue, only white and black. The lettering on the shirt was white and red so I chose white, hung the shirt and walked away.
I didn’t even hesitate. I just smiled as I realized that I just “rolled with it” and figured we’d deal in the morning if needed, or whenever it is discovered.
Just a few short months ago I was always asking myself why. Why do things have to be so specific? Why the certain order, color, etc.? Why can’t he just “roll with it”?! Why are the hanging shirts so important when the rest just simply isn’t?
I’m going to take this as a step up. One more step higher on the acceptance staircase. One less worry, question, thought, whatever. It’s just part of life now.