Taming my “Wild Thing”

I took Will to a sensory friendly movie a couple of months ago for the first time in years.  He protested loudly and energetically, but I persevered.  I took him to another movie two weeks ago and he was even better.  Then on Saturday our town’s sped-pac sponsored a showing of The Child King and since my husband was out of town and I wanted Bri to see it I decided to take Will even though I couldn’t bring any snacks to distract him.  I brought a couple books instead.  He was surprising good.  I was going to take him out at one point but we sat on the last row instead and he was really interested in the last part of the movie.  It’s very exciting to have a new activity for him.

I am also very excited because one of Will’s teachers at MyGym is going to take him swimming on Fridays.  This is a wonderful because I signed the other kids up for ski lessons on Friday afternoons and I wasn’t looking forward to dragging Will to the lodge with me!

This will pay off in a couple of years

I know I cooked more than Bri does when I was thirteen, perhaps because I didn’t spend all my time texting or on facebook.  Last week she “taught” Jake how to make chocolate chip cookies.  They were yummy but they made them backwards.  I asked her yesterday if she wanted to learn how to make peach cobbler.  She didn’t.  So, I decided to teach Jake.  He is more interested than Bri is in cooking and is more likely to say yes if I ask him.  He agreed to help even though he doesn’t like cobbler.  Since we were on a roll I taught him how to make spaghetti, too.

 

Bonus:  Jake tried the cobbler and liked it.

Aphrodite

Last week we took everyone to Bri’s middle school play.  Sometimes we trade off nights.  That way we can leave Will home because he doesn’t always like to go to things and is disruptive.  But I had a Ladies Night Out dinner I wanted to go to on Friday so I decided the whole family could see Bri’s play on Saturday.  I brought Will’s iPod and a couple of Dr. Seuss books for him.  We sat on the balcony where there were fewer people and Will did really well.  He took off his shoes, refused to listen to his music and started eating his books.  He clapped and “whooed” loudly at the end (and as much as I’d like to say it was because of Bri's superb acting I think it was probably because the play ended).

My husband took all the other kids home while I waited for Bri.  On the way home we talked about the characters in the play.  I told her that Hector had been my book boyfriend since I’d read the Iliad in high school.  I would have named one of my sons Hector if it sounded ok.  (It didn’t and neither did Henry.)  Bri said that a lot her friends’ book boyfriends were Edward or Jacob.  She said wanted a monster book boyfriend too.  I said that I'd rather have a heroic, human book boyfriend.  She said humans are boring.

. . . And Then My Brain Fell Out

I pulled out all the stuff to decorate the Christmas tree a couple of days ago.  I hoped that my kids would decorate it all and I wouldn’t have to do anything but that still hasn’t happened.  Maybe next year.  The kids put the lights on the tree and we plugged it in.  Only to see that half the lights didn’t work so we halted work on the tree and left four boxes of Christmas crap in the living room for two days while I meant to go to the store and buy lights.

Yesterday, I gave up and asked Bri to take the lights off the tree and put on the multi-colored lights we had, while I went to an autism nutrition thing.  It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be and that’s a couple of hours I won’t get back.  Moving on.  I came home and half a strand of lights was on the tree.

Today I went to the store and bought lights.  I was a little perturbed to see they were double the price I thought they were but standing in the line for 10 minutes for three pairs of gloves alone wouldn’t be worth it and I bought them anyway.  I returned home and started unwinding the multi-colored lights.  I opened the first box to see white wiring!  Yes, white!  I was so frustrated.  I was about to put them on the tree anyway; however, upon examination of the boxes (perhaps, I should have done that in the store – but it’s actually Jane’s fault because I was talking to her on the phone) I noticed they were icicle lights.  This is technically the point when my brain fell out of my head.

So, I put the half working strand of white lights back on the tree.  Unfortunately, Jake stepped on some of the lights, at which point they started blinking.  So, I have a tree with working lights going around twice and wide swath of darkness and then the top half of the tree is blinking.  Yea, seriously.

We decorated the tree.  I started packing up the boxes and at the bottom of one I hadn’t looked through yet, I found three unopened boxes of white lights. 

That sound you just heard was karma slapping my face.

To whom it may concern

"To whom it may concern: 

"If this letter has been opened and is being read, it is because I have been seriously injured or killed by my son, Sky Walker. I love Sky with my whole heart and soul and do not believe he has intentionally injured me. I have tried my best to get help for him and to end the pattern of violence that has developed in this home. I believe my best has not been good enough. That is my fault, not Sky's. Numerous people know about the violence and many have witnessed it. We have all failed Sky. I do not want him to be punished for actions for which he is not responsible. 

"Trudy Steuernagel."

I’ve thought, possibly obsessed, about Will’s future for years.  At a dinner, with three other moms last week, the topic came up.  One mother said that she thinks about her son’s future daily.  As do I.  Another mom said she doesn’t think about yet.  The elephant in the room was aggression.  All of our boys are pre-puberty although it’s getting closer and some of the boys are aggressive to varying degrees.  And from what I’ve heard puberty can bring on aggression.  I wouldn’t classify Will as aggressive necessarily; but he pinches and occasionally bites and disturbingly, he is starting to use his size and strength to make his way to things he wants.  He’s only ten but he’s a big ten and I think he takes after my side of the family.  I think he’ll be over 6 feet tall and I can already see that he’ll weigh more than 200 lbs.  I realized this day was coming quickly last summer when I tried and failed for the first time to put medicine in Will’s eye by myself.  He still sits on my lap and wants me to give him a piggy back ride down the stairs.  I don’t think either of us are quite ready to give that up but he’s huge and it’s absurd when he sits on my lap as thankfully my lap isn’t really large enough for him.

I remember judging other parents, when Will was an adorable three year-old, for putting their children in residential care.  I decided that Will would live with me until I died.  But I’ve learned a few things in the ensuing years.  I don’t judge anyone anymore for making those kind of choices.  I have a friend who is occasionally frightened of her son and I know someone whose daughter had to move to a group home after she broke her mother’s leg, back and ribs.  I can’t imagine Will turning into someone dangerous but what if my other children were threatened?  There is no easy solution.

I changed my plan for Will’s future.  I’m going to set up a group home for him; one where I can choose who works there and one that he will never have to move from.  I can’t put him in the position of losing a parent and losing his home at the same time.  If placement ever becomes a crisis compromises are often made.

Will is like the sun in our family.  Everyone orbits him.  Most of what we do is for his benefit.  We live here because it’s better for him.  My husband has sacrificed aspects of his career for Will.  Where we vacation, our activities, most of what we do takes Will’s needs in consideration.

He’s worth it, of course.  He’s funny and lovable.  Bri and I often exchange delighted looks over his head.  But I can’t parent him the way I want and it’s really hard for me to wrap my head around that.  I encourage independence early on.  Bri started making her own lunches when she was in first grade, Jake in kindergarten, Lizzy, well, Lizzy is so slow in the morning I make half of her lunch; hopefully eventually she’ll do it herself!  And Will will make his own lunch eventually as well, even if it takes me years to teach him.

My heart breaks for Sky Walker and all the future Sky Walkers.  They are out there.  I’ve followed his story and I’m frightened about all the potential pitfalls in Will’s future.  Imagine a huge man having a temper tantrum in public or pushing his way past crowds.  Most policemen don’t know how to interact with children or adults with autism.  Some people with autism can be aggressive and violent without understanding they can really hurt someone.  Will’s infrequent temper tantrums are a little funny because I think he’s trying to get a reaction from me.  The first time he threw himself down on the ground he carefully started banging his head on the floor.  He’s become a little more enthusiastic about it now.  What would I do if he was seriously trying to hurt himself?  I don’t know.

“I love my phone! It’s immortal!”

That’s a direct quote from Bri.  She lost it on Friday on the way to the bus stop.  It’s too bad that she didn’t lose it the same day she left her violin at the bus stop because a kid that rides her bus brought the violin home when he got off the bus that afternoon.

She came home from school today and said that while walking to the bus stop this morning she found her phone and was surprised that it still worked after she chipped the ice off it.  It snowed on Saturday.

* I wrote immoral instead of immortal.  That's definitely not what Bri said! 

It’s Better Than Christmas

My husband went to the library on Saturday and brought me home a stack of books.  I have admittedly lowbrow tastes and enjoy a daily murder mystery with the occasional decent book thrown in.  I figure, I read enough that even if I don’t count most of what I read, I still read more than the average person.

My husband is pretty much a non-fiction reader and he has a talent for finding interesting books.  I passed on Kant but I’m very interested in A Saint on Death Row, Living in the Age of Entitlement:  The Narcissism Epidemic, Three Generations, No Imbeciles, and Our Lot:  How Real Estate Came To Own Us.  I started reading Born to Run last night and it’s interesting!  Interesting enough that I briefly considered running for pleasure; naturally that idea passed quickly but I give credit to the book that it influenced me to think running could be enjoyable.

My running history is painful.  My dad liked to jog and I remember our family running together.  I would try to keep up with my older sisters and would get horrible side aches.  My dad told me to belly breathe.  (Note: that never worked!)  Well, about five years ago I found out why jogging was so unpleasant for me.  I was trying to keep up with my older sister who was trying to keep up with our dad!  Basically, a nine year old was trying to keep pace with a man in his 30s.  There was no way that was going to end well.  And it gave me a lasting hatred for jogging.