There are two kinds of tired: the kind that sleep fixes and the kind that it doesn’t.

This was supposed to be our respite weekend – Kiran was signed up to go spend his weekend at Easter Seals. Since his bio dad moved to a different state, it has become the one weekend a month that we get a break from constant caregiving.

But he was gunky, stuffy, coughing, on Friday. The report from school and how he presented after school led us to make the decision to keep him home to rest. But that means our weekend of rest this month dissipated.

We should be sleeping. It is Saturday night. Kiran went to bed around 7:30, his usual, and we are still awake. It’s after 11:00. We know that we should have gone to bed two hours ago, but we are holding onto our “break”.

It is a constant trade-off we handle: Do we sleep or do we have time to do the things that bring us joy? Even if those things are watching cooking shows (Master Chef season finale; first episode of Hell’s Kitchen) and Password.

Tomorrow morning will come at us sooner than we want it to. It always does, whether it be Tuesday or the weekend. But sometimes, we have to choose us time.

There’s a saying: “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” – and sometimes, we cling to that truth.

Yesterday, at Kiran’s Miracle League baseball game, we saw him do something he’s never done before: He held the bat by himself while hitting! Both times! His coach was his buddy yesterday, and he expertly moved the wheelchair back and forth so Kiran’s bat could come in contact with the pitched ball. It was really cool to see, and I *almost* caught it on video.

This is one of those milestone moments that I never even considered or thought would be a big deal. But I was SO incredibly proud of Kiran. He’s been playing Miracle League baseball for years, with this same coach (who is amazing with all of the kids), and it just seemed like something clicked for him yesterday. I hope it continues.

I think about people like Coach, who pour into Kiran year after year, with nothing but love and patience and meeting him where he is. I saw that man wait patiently for what felt like minutes with the ball bucket held up until Kiran finally let go of the ball he was holding and put it in. He has been a quiet, encouraging voice in Kiran’s ear for years and has just poured his love into him without condition.

Kiran doesn’t necessarily gravitate toward men outside his family (He really does just love women, but to be fair, most of his caregivers and teachers thus far have been women), but he adores Coach.

I am so thankful for the community around us who love Kiran and give him these experiences. And I can’t wait to see more of his baseball skills this season!