They

I appreciate our ABA person. He came into our lives, into our home, going on about a year ago now I think, though I can't really remember life before ABA. Having him here kind of reminds me of the brief period in which I had a personal trainer: I dreaded the arrival of my trainer, and deeply appreciated the experience afterward because I knew I could feel the benefits. However, when my trainer moved to Australia, I gave a huge sigh of relief. By contrast, I dread the end of ABA, and I know I'll hate so see JT go. Honestly, he feels a little like family now.

JT has pulled my kids in the wagon around the block with me so many times I finally started to realize the neighbors might suspect me of polygamy. He reads to both my kids, plays with them, has carried them out of my car when they were sleeping, has fed them, has given many high fives and knuckle bumps. He disciplines them. He is super nanny plus some.

JT has a son, too, about the age of Peaches. We talk about our kids.

Tonight, Rooster had a pretty major meltdown when we got home and met JT for ABA. Rooster became aggressive and JT became all business, enforcing the rules just as I wanted him to, but it hurt to watch nonetheless. JT asked me, "Are you okay?" I assured him I was, but we have kind of a standard dialogue every so often in which I ask him for a pep talk, and so I said, "Can you just humor me and give a 'Things will get better' talk?"

JT always complies with this kind of ridiculous request while still walking the "I make no promises" line. He finesses it well usually. Tonight he said something like, "Sure. Some things will definitely get better, because they get better as they grow. They mature, and they get more control of themselves. They become more independent, and that will help. Other things will be difficult, sure, but some things will get better."

I had managed through Rooster's screaming, his thrashing, his food throwing, his whole meltdown, and the aftermath of tears. I had managed while tending Peaches, unpacking lunch boxes, making dinner, repacking lunch boxes, cleaning smashed banana from the floor. But tonight sweet JT's well meaning speech did me in.

Of course, it was the "they." He said it at least a half dozen times, and with each one I felt like something bit me. For a few times I tried to tell myself he meant "kids" by "they." But he didn't mean kids. He didn't mean his kid. His kid and my kid don't fit into the same pronoun.

JT loves my Rooster. I know he does. And Rooster has kind of a love/hate thing going on for JT. It's all kind of familial. Except for the they.

Hey, I know. But still.