The great white hope

Sometimes I have a glimpse of what Devon will be like once he is not an insanely bizarre three year-old. It only lasts for a second or two but there are times when he is actually human and we have a normal exchange of words. Today has been a good Devon day. We went out in public and he didn’t throw himself under tables or have too many melt downs or too many conversations with invisible forces. Then we came home and he napped and woke up as an actual human. Freaking amazing.
I don’t know how many people have high maintenance or high needs kids. I don’t even know if Devon technically qualifies as either of these. But he sure kicks my ass hard enough and efficiently enough on most days to make me suspect he is either one or the other or both. Love him to pieces. But these days where there is some peace and something that resembles normal? They give me hope that he will either grow out of it or that I am learning to deal with him better.