Chew Me Up -Part Un
There was a minor explosion after school today. This time it is my living Angel who blows a gasket. I told Blue in the morning that I will be picking him up a few minutes early after school. We have to take his brother to an appointment. In the literal mind of an Aspergers child you better say what you mean and mean what you say. There is little room for error or miscalculation.
The day does not go as I planned. Harry (our Maltese) has a groomers appointment and doesn't finish until late afternoon. His groomer is closer to Red's school, so I decide to go ahead and pick him up first. Instead of zig-zagging, waisting time and gas. This put me about 10 minutes behind to pick up Blue.
"What are you doing here so late?!!" Mind you I am still there 5 minutes before school is out, but still a whole, whopping 10 minutes after I said I would be there.
"I'm so sorry that my day didn't go exactly as I planned."
I try to explain in great detail what happened. It doesn't matter. He is livid! He no longer wants to hang out with me while Red goes to his social skills appointment. We usually go have a bite to eat, go for a walk and hang out somewhere down in Austin together -just the two of us.
We have to drop Harry off at home before we head out. By the time we get home Blue is in tears of frustration. He explains that it's not just me being late, it's how his day started with a misunderstanding with a teacher. My being late is just the icing on the cake.
Once he cries it out...he is able to calm down and apologize for going ballistic. He decides to go with me after-all. A few hours without his brother, dinner @ Chipolte, a trip to the Apple store and all is forgiven.
Spit Me Out -Part Deaux
As I am attempt to calm Blue, Red chimes in with, "I don't want to go to group today. I'm not going to have enough time on my computer. Can you extend the parental controls to 10 o'clock?"
If he asked that question once he asked it a hundred times on the way there. The answer never changes. I have to remain consistent. He can survive one day without extended hours on the computer. This group is for his benefit...not mine. He wants to make friends -supposedly. He needs the skills to do so. This is a group with teenagers who are slowly becoming his friends. I would rather stay home, finish my laundry and watch "Parenthood." I am doing this for him and spending a nice penny for it to boot.
When we pick him up after the group he starts again. He is relentless, talking loudly, repeating himself over and over and over again. I want to speed the car up and stop suddenly to make him hit his head on the freakin' dashboard. I refrain. I'm only a child abuser in my head.
"But I'm not going to have enough time on my computer. Can you extend the parental controls for tonight? Mom, why are you pushing my buttons? In your head, you are mentally pushing my buttons!"
Well ain't that the pot calling the kettle?
He works himself into a frenzie. When we get home he starts this fake meltdown where he's rolling on the floor, kicking like a toddler or an epileptic I've seen him out of control before...this is not what it looks like. I'm his mother. I know him like a book. This is controlled manipulation.
We are in my mother's room where he is sprawled across the floor, all 200 pounds of him. My mother is silently laughing at his bad acting job. The other day she told him that if he kept screaming so loud, he just might pop a blood vessel and we'd have to rush him to the emergency room. He believed her. He hasn't screamed since then.
I leave the room so that he no longer has an audience. Mom finally convinces him that he is wasting what little time he has and to go ahead and take his shower.
By the time both boys are asleep, I feel the need for something strong to calm my nerves. It's 10 p.m. too late for a martini. A glass of wine will have me up peeing all night. I desperately need self-medication.
I've been on a quest to find the perfect cupcake in Austin. Tonight, I have a red velvet from MadCakes. A Mad-cupcake for a madwoman -how appropriate. Don't you think?
I miss your comments! Give me a shout-out if you're alive out there!
There was a minor explosion after school today. This time it is my living Angel who blows a gasket. I told Blue in the morning that I will be picking him up a few minutes early after school. We have to take his brother to an appointment. In the literal mind of an Aspergers child you better say what you mean and mean what you say. There is little room for error or miscalculation.
The day does not go as I planned. Harry (our Maltese) has a groomers appointment and doesn't finish until late afternoon. His groomer is closer to Red's school, so I decide to go ahead and pick him up first. Instead of zig-zagging, waisting time and gas. This put me about 10 minutes behind to pick up Blue.
 |
| Harry -freshly groomed |
"I'm so sorry that my day didn't go exactly as I planned."
I try to explain in great detail what happened. It doesn't matter. He is livid! He no longer wants to hang out with me while Red goes to his social skills appointment. We usually go have a bite to eat, go for a walk and hang out somewhere down in Austin together -just the two of us.
We have to drop Harry off at home before we head out. By the time we get home Blue is in tears of frustration. He explains that it's not just me being late, it's how his day started with a misunderstanding with a teacher. My being late is just the icing on the cake.
Once he cries it out...he is able to calm down and apologize for going ballistic. He decides to go with me after-all. A few hours without his brother, dinner @ Chipolte, a trip to the Apple store and all is forgiven.
Spit Me Out -Part Deaux
As I am attempt to calm Blue, Red chimes in with, "I don't want to go to group today. I'm not going to have enough time on my computer. Can you extend the parental controls to 10 o'clock?"
If he asked that question once he asked it a hundred times on the way there. The answer never changes. I have to remain consistent. He can survive one day without extended hours on the computer. This group is for his benefit...not mine. He wants to make friends -supposedly. He needs the skills to do so. This is a group with teenagers who are slowly becoming his friends. I would rather stay home, finish my laundry and watch "Parenthood." I am doing this for him and spending a nice penny for it to boot.
When we pick him up after the group he starts again. He is relentless, talking loudly, repeating himself over and over and over again. I want to speed the car up and stop suddenly to make him hit his head on the freakin' dashboard. I refrain. I'm only a child abuser in my head.
"But I'm not going to have enough time on my computer. Can you extend the parental controls for tonight? Mom, why are you pushing my buttons? In your head, you are mentally pushing my buttons!"
Well ain't that the pot calling the kettle?
He works himself into a frenzie. When we get home he starts this fake meltdown where he's rolling on the floor, kicking like a toddler or an epileptic I've seen him out of control before...this is not what it looks like. I'm his mother. I know him like a book. This is controlled manipulation.
We are in my mother's room where he is sprawled across the floor, all 200 pounds of him. My mother is silently laughing at his bad acting job. The other day she told him that if he kept screaming so loud, he just might pop a blood vessel and we'd have to rush him to the emergency room. He believed her. He hasn't screamed since then.
I leave the room so that he no longer has an audience. Mom finally convinces him that he is wasting what little time he has and to go ahead and take his shower.
I've been on a quest to find the perfect cupcake in Austin. Tonight, I have a red velvet from MadCakes. A Mad-cupcake for a madwoman -how appropriate. Don't you think?
I miss your comments! Give me a shout-out if you're alive out there!
