Really, if you change a few details, that could be us. Our problem isn’t a shopping day. No, ours stems from the fact that we had a fun weekend. Pathetic, huh? Some family friends celebrated their 10th anniversary this weekend by having a lovely party at an old dance hall in the Texas Hill Country. It was perfect! BBQ, country band complete with fiddle, children running around dancing and playing. And all three of my kids did wonderfully! They played and had fun just like everyone else!
The next day we went to an amusement park for J’s company outing. Again, a great time was had by all. Amusement parks are very successful for Jett, I think in part because every kid acts excited and gleeful, and in part because they are really just big expensive OT obstacle courses. A kids seeking sensory input loves all the rides. Add the junk food we don’t normally eat, and it’s a fantastic experience for the smalls.
Our course, we paid the price of all that fun. Lots of meltdowns and tantrums yesterday. I won’t bore you with the details, but we had lots of shouting, lots of “your the worst mommy ever!”. (Want to see me get really mad? Call me the worst mom ever.) I’m tired too, so I don’t react very well (understatement of the year, perhaps).
Like Fi, I also tried to take them all to the park yesterday just to get us a break and kill some time before I could put them all to bed. And what happened? Jett fell off his bike and skinned his knee. Of course he did.
So this morning I thought it’s a new day. Until we all woke up late and had to rush. And the weather changed, it’s getting cooler. I thought I had been smart last night to find his jacket and hang it up by the door. I mentally gave myself big props for thinking ahead. So he puts it on this morning, and the zipper is broken. And he can’t wear a jacket that isn’t zipped.
I really am surprised we both survived the walk to school.
The hardest part for sure about parenting an Aspie is the emotional roller coaster. I get so caught up in his emotional drama about shoes, or jackets, or whatever. And then he’s fine. He’s moved on to telling me about the latest math game he’s made up in his head. Or about a car he wants to drive in his racing game. And I’m still reeling from him telling me how horrible I am or how horrible he is or how much he hates his life. I feel raw and exposed, and he seems fine.
Does this get better? Will he (and I) be able to regulate better as he gets older? Will I become more accustomed to the rages and fits? Will I learn more about his triggers and what to do about them?
Maybe I’ll just start making up math games in my head too.