Today was one of those days…you know the kind - where nothing seems to go right? From the moment I woke up, at 6:15, to the ear-splitting scream (via baby monitor, which apparently sits WAY too close to my ear) of “MOMMY!!!!!!!!!” to this moment of going to bed, typing hunt and peck style due to the bandaged and very sensitive finger, it has been a rough one.
After hurling myself out of bed and running across the house expecting giant aliens to be coming through the windows or at least some blood, I entered C’s room and found him sans UFOs or major injury to life or limb. “What?” I asked, not altogether nicely, yet still expecting some unseen disaster to appear before me. “Ummmm, I can’t sleep. Will you snuggle with me?” Now, darn, if this isn’t just adorable, and sometimes might even work, but not today. After a brief, few sentences with choice words about when it’s appropriate to yell at Mommy in the wee hours, I went back to bed. It was short lived, however. Only mere minutes after I fell back to sleep, came the next most pleasant way to be awakened, which is “I NEED A WIPE!” This one is a constant occupational therapist’s nightmare as it’s particularly difficult to teach a body unaware, fine motor skills challenged, can’t place hands on something unseen even if it is part of one’s body, and still doesn’t wash hands very well little person how to wipe his own bottom.
This was day two of C staying home with a cold. He’s not particularly sick, but if he overdoes it, he will be. So he’s been home hanging out with his humidifier and doing his best to drive me to drink. Today, however, determined to do something productive with him, I decided we’d do a craft together. We searched the Highlights magazine craft pages, and I picked out two crafts that seemed doable and for which we had supplies. Naturally, when presented with the two options, C picked out a third. I reiterated the two choices and he picked yet another one on the page. This went on until he had chosen every single craft on the page except the two I said we could choose from. At that point, I left him in his room.
Once he decided to participate, I asked him to get four pieces of recycled paper. Predictably, he said he wanted new paper, and I repeated the request for recycled paper. He went and picked out new paper anyway. Then he went back to his room. This went on for quite some time, during which I had the usual argument I have with myself while in the midst of these episodes. I recognize the need for bending to C’s idiosyncrasies, but I also recognize the need to have a child who is capable of completing a task I request. This is a difficult balance, and one which causes great struggle for me. C is so high functioning that at times I wonder if I’m too hard on him and am forgetting the challenges he faces; that recycled paper (with printing already on one side) likely bothers him on a deep sensory level. It sounds silly, but I suspect it’s true - the writing on one side probably distracts him, catches his eye, annoys him. And the constant need to debate, discuss, and argue is probably not only resultant of his feeling crummy, but also an effort to exert some control over his environment. So I feel like Bad Mommy lady, but I know giving in at this point will make all future debates and discussions far more difficult, so I hold my ground.
When he does come around, we happily sit down to make our cut out butterflies, and my punishment for being Bad Mommy is quick to come. I promptly send the scissor blade right into my index finger, and while the blood is dripping down my arm, I am reminded of this morning’s worry. It has come full circle, and I expect the UFOs to be landing out in the backyard any moment now.