Our Boy is Back

Eliot slept through the night last night. He played on the floor. He painted. He ate food other than bow tie pasta with red sauce, cut in half with cheese on top on his red plate.

He laughed. He walked a lot more today than he has in days. He went to bed at his normal hour (not 4:30 in the afternoon). He giggled. He goofed around. He helped me cook.

He put a pinch of salt in the salad we made today and it was the sweetest, tiniest, most wonderful little gesture I've perhaps ever seen. Just a simple pinch of salt thrown into a salad. And he has never done that before. And he mimicked what I did. And it seemed so natural. And after the month he has had and we have had to see him throw his first pinch of salt into a salad was something. I don't know what. It was something.

Eliot is coming back to us. He is back. Eliot.