Someone should report me
Yesterday was a rough day. Joseph was just so ..... autistic.
Most of the time I think people would look at Joseph and think that he was neurotypical. Maybe a little quirky but certainly not autistic. Then he has days like yesterday that just kind of slap me in the face and say "You think things are going well? Haha! Not so fast lady"
The day started off badly when Joseph did something that upset Elle and made her cry. He didn't do it with the intent of hurting her feelings but it did and he just didn't care. He didn't even look at her as she stood next to him whimpering with big tears rolling down her cheeks. It broke my heart to see her so sad and it broke my heart to see him so indifferent. See, it's not that he's a mean kid (and really he's just crazy about Elle) but in this instance it didn't even seem to register with him that she was upset. Or rather, he realized it but it didn't matter to him.
After I had cheered Elle up I pulled Joseph aside to have a Big Talk with him. "Joseph, does it bother you that you made Elle sad?"
"No."
"No?"
"I mean yes."
"Yes? Why does it bother you?"
"Because now I'm in trouble."
"Honey, you're not in trouble but I want to to understand why what you did was not ok."
"Ok, but I need to build more Lego creations now!"
It just went downhill from there. All day long he acted rigid and intense and just plain odd. He wouldn't look at me when I talked to him. If he talked to me he would do it with his face six inches from mine, staring into my eyes, unblinking. His voice was loud and sing-songy. One minute he would claim to be starving but if I got him something to eat he would eat one bite and run away from the table. He talked non-stop about Legos and repeated silly, made up rhymes over and over and over.
The big kicker came when I asked him to go to his room and get dressed. That simple request resulted in a melt-down of massive proportions. Yelling, screaming, shrieking. It went on and on. It sounded like he was being beat. If you know me in real life or if you read my blog you know I don't hit my kids. Ever. Yesterday the melt-down went on for so long and was so intense though that a couple of times I found myself thinking "If I could just smack him, just once, maybe that would snap him out of it."
Not logical thinking and not something I'm proud of but I was sort of at the end of my rope. (By the way, I didn't hit him.) I also found myself thinking that at some point some neighbor was going to call the police. I thought any second a cop was going to pull up and check on us because some well meaning neighbor had heard Joseph screaming at the top of his lungs for 40 minutes.
But I guess I must have the most sound proof house in the world because no one came. I don't know. Maybe it's just me. If I heard a child screaming the way Joseph was screaming yesterday I would call the cops out of concern for what was going on in that house. And I really don't think that it's possible that no one heard what was going on.
Is it weird that it bothers me that no one did anything? Maybe it's because I've heard too many stories of children dying at the hands of their abusive parents and then the neighbors saying "We always heard terrible screaming coming from that house but no, we never called anyone."
Anyway. Yesterday was rough. Today will be better. If I hear your child screaming bloody murder (and I don't already know that there's a very good reason for it) I'm going to call the cops. I would appreciate it if you would do the same for my children.
9 comments:
Is it bad that I chuckled just a little bit that you're ASKING people to call the cops on you? :) I hope tomorrow is better for your family!
2 things.
first, we all have moments when we would like to smack our kids. but the moment between the thought and the act is what defines you as a parent.
second, i feel the same way about reporting things
*Sigh* This sounds like every day of my life. Except for my son is only 3 and has no diagnosis. Maybe I'll blog soon about how he gave me a black eye last week.
I always wonder when the cops will show up here. After 30 minutes? 1 hour? 2 hours? So far never. Not sure how I feel about that.
I hope tomorrow is a better day. Hang in girl!
Be strong. This too shall pass. Hope tomorrow is better!
I hope tomorrow is a better day.
Could it be the weather that's setting him off a bit?
Some people think theyre jammy
But I know they must be crazy
Cant see their misfortune
Even if theyre lazy
Walk throughout the fire
Drive throughout the smoke
See my enemy at the end of the rope
Walk on piles of needles
See what they can do
Walk on gilded splinters
With the king of the zulus
Kon kon, the kiddy kon kon
Walk on gilded splinters
Kon kon, the kiddy kon kon
Walk on gilded splinters
Here I go, now
Til I murder, til Im dead
I rode out my coffee
By drinking poison from my chalice
Propped against my faith
I drink oil for my malice
Meet me on your doorstep
Soon well be in the gutter
Melt you just like butter
Ill make you stutter
Walk throughout the fire
Drive throughout the smoke
See my enemy at the end of the rope
Walk on piles of needles
See what they can do
Walk on gilded splinters
With the king of the zulus
Kon kon, the kiddy kon kon
Walk on gilded splinters
Kon kon, the kiddy kon kon
Walk on gilded splinters
Til I murder, til Im dead
Ben, wow. I oves me some Paul Weller.
Jen, I'm sorry it was such an awful day. You are a saint and probably the best mom I know. Hang in there... I learn from you by example and so far you're keeping up your end of the bargain. *HUG*
I'm sorry. We have days like that too.
I know what you mean about no one calling the authorities. One night my sister had a seizure at her apartment. Her girlfriend called the paramedics and then me, so I was there when they took her away in an ambulance. Because she had just had a seizure and was not very rational, she was in the hallway shouting, "No, I don't want to go with you. Don't take me! No!" Not a single door opened. No police ever showed up. No one—and there were three other apartment doors within 10 feet—did anything. Sort of appalling.
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