The storm

Some days I just feel like a storm has taken hold of me, and I just have no way of getting out. This morning I woke up, and immediately headed to the bathroom with stomach pains, and after what will become several shower (this the first one). I tired to encourage Ms. Priss to scoot along, she is like a slug some mornings. Little man was still asleep and slept until ten. Yesterday, after a four day weekend at his dads, he came home hyped up and now today will be the crash day. I try to prepare myself, I start this new online course and am just finishing when he finishes breakfast. I let him play the xbox for a bit, and I start to work on the laundry. That's when the crying begins, it starts little at first like the drops of rain. Not enough electronic equipment not playing at the same time. He wants S's going in our room, while his ipad and tv blar in his, and then Mrs. Priss ipad blars something else. In the middle of this chaos he wants to try to feed his turtle. So I scoop what we are now calling "blue toad" into a tupperware container and try my best to encourage the thing to eat. I can see the rain start to pour faster as the turtle doesn't eat. I pray to every turtle god there is, and offer the thing lettuce....nothing. That's when the crying starts "why won't he eat" he says through the tears and screams and stomps down the hall. "He's scared," I try to say kindly. "Let's put him back in the tank and see!" The word that follows echos through the house, and it almost feels like it could shatter glass "NOooooooooo!" So I don't and we wait he goes back and forth between the turtle and the noise in the rest of the house. Finally, two hours later and lunch time we can put the turtle back. So we do...and he sits on his rock while sissy's turtle eats the food. That's when the pouring rain because a thunderstorm. "No! Stop her! That's blue toad!" It takes a hour and a honey bun to calm him. We get distracted after lunch and I get some more things done, while taking my second shower of the day. I warn him about 2 that we have to go to the grocery store and get syrup...his response of "Then we get sissy?" means he is feeling alright about this idea. I say a prayer and hope that the storm has passed. We make it to the store and to sissy without a meltdown. Then snack and xbox time for sissy. Little man has one incident with xbox where he literally tears his sister down verbally, but knowing the storm that's just waiting to fall out on me I use harsh words and end the time soon to duck and dodge. They separate after that for a bit, and I breathe and just sit down when S comes in.   Now, S wants to talk...and I'm in no mood to talk I want to tune out the world so I can prepare for the coming storm. We end up in a fight...suck! :(  Sometimes I think she really thinks I do nothing all day. That's about the time it happens. Mrs. Priss hears the fight and creates one of her own, she wants little man out of her room so she can have "privacy". Which normally means she just wants to cause a fight to then go back and play with him. It's a vicious cycle, and I don't know how to deal with it. He hits her or screams at her, she wants him out, I spend a hour getting him out through his meltdown, and a hour later she wants him back.  Anyway I clear with her that she can't go back, and she promptly tries to boss him around. So then I have her upset because now I have to ground her for doing my job and little man in the room screaming and refusing to let go of the wii remote. So I get him out, and that's when the lights go out. His eyes roll to the top of his head and stares at the ceiling while tears run down his face. All the while he is screaming and kicking  and hitting anything within reach. In this moment my baby boy is gone, and I am helpless. I try to call him back to look at me, I try to talk him through it.....but the little man who holds S and my hand's at night is no where to be found....and what I am left with is turmoil and anguish and no way to fix the chaos he has inside his mind. It kills me and drains me of all I am.....Finally I talk him through how to fix the problem, you see her wii on this game has the characters he wants to play. So I have to switch both wii's while hearing how he needs to eat. The list just goes on...S tries to distract which I am thankful for while I try to make something for dinner. There is more yelling from little man, and he's back invading my space while I am trying to use the bathroom.....and now aunt flow is here on top of everything else. I get his wii and computer setup, and then back into the shower. Just long enough to hear my phone beep...damn I was suppose to do that stuff for my club website tonight. Thankfully she passed it off....

and now I sit in the dark on the verge of tears that I can't release because he keeps coming in my room....and I am just not sure.....can I really do this?

Autism sucks.....

THE TRADE

On Friday, my daughter got to pick three items out of her teacher's treasure chest.
"Look what I got!" she said proudly the minute she got into the car. She held out two fruit-flavored Jolly Ranchers (hard candy) for my inspection.

"Excellent choices," I replied. "But I thought you got to pick three things," I continued, slightly confused. My math skills are not so good, but I can still count up to ten. On occasion.
My daughter told me that she gave her third Jolly Rancher to the girl standing next to her in the parent pick-up line.

"That was very nice of you," I said proudly. I commended my daughter for doing something that I probably wouldn't do myself. When it comes to candy, I have a sharing problem. "Look what she gave me in return!" my daughter replied, opening up her backpack. Inside was the contents of an entire pet store. It was hard to keep the car on the road.

"You made a very good trade, but you are going to have to give all of those animals back to your new friend," I told her. Everyone the car had a hard time understanding why I would demand such a senseless thing. "I don't know what to tell you other than that I am a mean mom," I told the angry mob. "You owe me a piece of candy then," my daughter said as she handed over the booty.

I nodded my head. That request seemed rational. "Actually you owe me fifteen Little Pet shop animals," she said, changing her mind. I shook my head ever the negotiator.

GIFTED

Yesterday, the school guidance counselor pulled my kids out of class and gave them all IQ tests. "Their academic performance indicates that they are strong candidates for the gifted program," the woman told me a few days ago on the phone.

"I am so mad at you for making me take that test," snapped Drama Girl when I picked her up from school. I pretended not to know what she was talking about. "The guidance counselor showed me the papers that you signed," she sneered. "I answered all the questions wrong on purpose!" barked Mrs. Priss, "And I got up to use the bathroom seven times during the test."

"Well done," I replied. "I do enough work at school," Drama Girl complained. "Why would I want to do more?" She made a good point. Early this morning, the guidance counselor called me with the results of the exam.

According to the test rubric, Mrs. Priss has below average intelligence. Drama Girl is bored out of her mind at school, but she probably doesn't notice because according to the IQ test, she only has three brain cells.

I seriously don't know whether to laugh or cry.

The Spider and the Fly

Today my kids found a spider. It was black and white and completely harmless. The poor guy was stuck inside Mrs. Priss’ hood to her power wheels. We opened the lid to move the battery from one toy to the other. (Yes I know I am the worst mother for not having two batteries. I have been told this already!)

I yell “SPIDER” and the three girls scrambled. My son turned with plastic sword in hand and went into his best defender mode. “Mom!” he yelled, “I save you”. Plastic sword in hand he went swinging at the grass in a failed attempt to kill the thing that scared me.

I laughed I couldn’t help it. Leave it to the boy to be the fearless one. While his mother, teenage sister, and 5 yr old sister run for the hills. “Just leave it alone,” I told the brave boy. Ever since he could walk I would playfully raise my voice and proclaim “Little man save me.” While Daddy would tickle me. As he grew I taught him not to hit girls, that girls were to be hugged and kissed, and that he was the “man” when daddy wasn’t home.

Now at almost 3 he shows me what I instilled “I save you girls” he recites to me. I look over at my teenage daughter who I have taught to be independent and not rely on a man. I sigh to myself and she shakes her head. “We could take it to the zoo," my daughter proposed distracting me from my guilt.

I pat her on the head. “I am sure it’s gone sweetie,” I say. “I know someone who once ate a spider,” says the teenager as she walks into the house in disgust. The younger ones eyes widen and Pandora’s box has been opened. I thanked the girl for her knowledge and pushed my children toward the inside with bribery, “Let’s have ice cream.” They run inside and I sigh with relief for avoid yet another disaster.