Category: Communication

The Wonder of Me…..And Aaron…..And Lots of Things

I went to pick Aaron up at his day group on Thursday afternoon. I waited in the van for a couple minutes, then saw Barb coming toward me. I knew before I really knew that this probably wasn’t going to be good news. I was right. She told me that Aaron was inside after having a very rough afternoon and that he was refusing to come outside. I went in and we found Aaron laying on one of the couches, crying and very upset. After some time, and moving to a new couch where he laid down again, he told the story of how he had acted……which often starts with him thinking he’s teasing but turns ugly pretty quickly. One thing led to another and the situation became something it never needed to be.

How we wish that Aaron understood that his idea of teasing is often anything but. How we wish he could control himself when he is being redirected. All the talking and lectures and therapy in the world doesn’t seem to sink in. Maybe a little, but not as much as needed. He just doesn’t connect actions and repercussions like you and I do. Reading about the autistic brain……writing about the autistic brain…….saying that I understand the autistic brain as much as I can…….often doesn’t mean as much as it should when I’m staring at my belligerent son, hearing of his actions and trying to control my own embarrassment and anger.

Aaron is often immensely funny, but Aaron is also sometimes immensely frustrating. Thursday fell into the last category.

Aaron is seeing a family therapist every two weeks. This is a new thing for him. I had high hopes that as much as he loves to talk, he would really take to this and love talking to her. It hasn’t quite worked out that way. If she just let him talk about his things, like aliens and movies and games and eating out, then he would probably look forward to it. But he realizes that she wants to talk about his issues……how he’s doing at Paradigm and at home with relationships and anger and attitudes. To Aaron, this is uncomfortable and a waste of time, so he hasn’t been enjoying their sessions like I had hoped.

This past Tuesday she gave him a paper on which she had drawn a large stoplight. The green light means that he is doing good, so keep going. The yellow light means that he is starting to feel some frustration, so he needs to be cautious. The red light means that he is having a meltdown full of anger. At the end of the day, he is to mark what kind of day he has had…..green, yellow, or red.

Aaron didn’t want to take the paper home from her office. Then he told me several times that he thought the paper was stupid. I left it alone on Tuesday night, but on Wednesday night I told him before bed that it was time to mark his stop light with what kind of day he had. I felt like Wednesday had been a green day, so I thought he would be happy to mark the green light. But when I told him to get his paper and mark it, he crossed his arms and told me that he had hidden the paper.

Oh boy.

After some talking, he finally got down on his hands and knees, and pulled the paper out from under his bed. He rolled his eyes as he put a mark on the green light, the mark I thought would make him happy. Then he picked up the paper and as we stood there talking before saying good night, he crumpled that paper some in his hand. He was simmering, I knew it.

So after his meltdown Thursday at Paradigm, and a rather rough evening at home during Skip-Bo as I tried to talk to him, he went upstairs at my direction and brought down the stop light paper so that he could mark it. I knew that he needed to put a mark on the red light, and he knew that, too.

He came down to the kitchen table with his paper, and this was what he laid on the table.

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Well, so much for that idea. How many times I say that when we try something new with Aaron!

So often it’s back to square one with Aaron. We rarely feel like we pass go and collect our $200.00. I know there are times in his life when he needs to pull back and reboot, so on Friday I let him stay at home. He went grocery shopping with me, helping me at the store and helping me carry in the groceries at home. We went to see Jungle Book, run more errands, and get him a sub for supper. We watched a little TV in the evening. It was a pleasant, fun day for both of us.

Aaron found an Elvis CD that he wanted when we were shopping together at the first of the week. He’s been completely fascinated with the songs and with Elvis all week as we’ve listened to the CD while driving. He’s been hilarious with some of the things that he has said about Elvis, like how his voice is “jiggly” and his dancing is “rowdy.”

So on Thursday, meltdown day, Aaron turned on the Elvis CD in the van. The second song that played just left me pretty stunned and with a huge lump in my throat. “The Wonder of You.” Look at the lyrics for the first part of this song:

When no one else can understand me.

              When everything I do is wrong.

              You give me hope and consolation,

              You give me strength to carry on.

 

              And you’re always there to lend a hand

              In everything I do.

              That’s the wonder, the wonder of you.

 

Aaron has decided that he loves this song. It’s uncanny. This song that speaks volumes to me about what kind of mother I need to be with Aaron has become a very special song to him as well. It’s not for the reasons that it’s meaningful to me, either, because I’ve had him tell me why he likes it so much. But he’s played it over and over since Thursday. We even listened to it with Gary at supper last night.

I really do want to be this kind of mother in Aaron’s life. Sometimes he’s certainly hard to understand and he does a lot wrong, but I pray that I will give him hope and consolation, strength and a helping hand.

Honestly, many times, I don’t feel like I’m a wonder. I feel more like I’m left wondering…..wondering what to do, wondering what’s going on, wondering how I can stay calm…..

I could go on for a long time about some of the ways that I wonder.

But Aaron needs me to be there for him despite the wondering and the frustrations, the tiredness and the seeming dead ends that we end up taking. He’s taking a nap right now and just had a seizure. He needs me physically, too.

But he needs me the most when, like the first part of the song says, no one else understands him and everything he does is wrong. I know he’s frustrated by those times more than we are.

All moms can relate to what I am saying, and especially moms of special needs kids and adults understand it all too well.

Aaron will probably never look at me and say, “Wow, Mom! You’ve meant so much to me. You’re a wonder!”

Just reading that makes me laugh. I’d faint if he said that and probably get hurt, so it’s just as well that he doesn’t say it, right?

But I will keep striving to BE that in Aaron’s life…..pick him up, understand as best I can, hold his hand (figuratively speaking, because he doesn’t hold hands much ), and give him strength and consolation.

But trust me, I know me, and I know that at the end of some of our days I’ll still be saying, “Yes, I’m a wonder! I’m a-wondering how on earth we both made it to the end of this day alive and in one piece!!”

And tomorrow’s a new day!

             

Monopoly On a Scrabble Board

I have a dear friend, Joyce, who has two sons with special needs. They each have significant special needs. Joyce is someone that I admire very much. I know she couldn’t handle all that she does apart from God’s grace. One day over lunch, she said the most profound thing to me. We were discussing some of the unusual ways that our boys function in their daily lives, and how we must function as their moms.

Joyce said, “It’s like playing Monopoly on a Scrabble board.”

That’s just one of the best descriptions I have ever heard about living with a child with autism, or many other developmental issues.

How on earth DO you play Monopoly on a Scrabble board?!! At first glance, I might say that you DON’T!! But as parents of our special children, we must. We have to be creative……flexible……think outside the box……and be very patient when all the pieces just don’t fit.

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The bottom line is this……we just don’t have a choice. So we take the Scrabble board and figure out our version of Monopoly, often writing the rules as we make the plays……and changing the ones that don’t work.

Aaron has been doing so well lately that I’ve felt like I’m mostly playing Monopoly on a Monopoly board. Imagine that!!

Oh, we always have our Aaron moments because that’s just how it is. But he’s been unusually happy and kind lately, both at home and at his day group. He’s even wanted to help more around the house, including in the kitchen.

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There are mornings that he hasn’t wanted to go to his day group, just like we don’t always want to get up and face our day. One morning he was getting upset about having to go to Paradigm, saying that he just doesn’t have a good time there.

“But Aaron,” I countered, “every time I pick you up, you say you had a good time.”

Not missing a beat, Aaron replied, “Well, the next time you pick me up, I’m gonna say I DIDN’T have a good time!!”

So there!!

He didn’t see my smile as he huffed out of the room. He ended up going that morning and having a good day, by the way.

This past Friday, however, was just the reverse. He left the house happily. We enjoyed listening to our oldies on the way to Paradigm. He was looking forward to some shopping and pizza at the end of the day, after I picked him up.

I pulled up to Paradigm and saw him sitting outside with his friends. His face was red and he was minus his glasses. I just knew…..and I was right. It had been a meltdown day for Aaron, and who knows why? He had broken his glasses….again…..but thankfully this time I was able to pop the lens back in. His staff was talking to me as Aaron sat in the van beside me, red faced from crying. So instead of shopping we just went to get his pizza and then head straight home, where we continued to sort out what had happened. His behaviors were wrong on several levels, and dealing with it would take a long time, I knew.

Hand me the Scrabble board.

And that rule book that I’m working on, continually.

Yesterday we took a walk in Swanson Park, stopping at the recycling bins on our way. The bins were full, so we couldn’t drop our things off then. We enjoyed the park, the fresh air and sunshine, and the deer that we saw. Aaron had a good time, despite complaining of a sore throat.

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Last night at bedtime I told Aaron that we might get some rain, and maybe some thunder and lightning. Aaron loves rain and he loves storms. He followed me up the hall after I delivered the hopeful storm news to him.

“What time?” he asked.

I told him that I didn’t know what time the rain or storms would come, but that if it happened, it would be later. As in not this very minute.

“Like when?” he asked.

I repeated that I didn’t know just when.

“Will it be later?” he continued asking.

Deep sigh……which he totally didn’t notice.

“Yes,” I affirmed. “The rain and possible storms could be later.”

I hoped to finally be finished.

Aaron followed me still.

“So we might not hear it?” he wondered.

The Scrabble board! Where’s the Scrabble board?!

Today Aaron is home with his cold. He is home with me, snorting because he doesn’t blow his nose.

I am re-reading the Monopoly on the Scrabble board rules about patience.

I was in the bathroom. Aaron stood on the other side of the door, happy because he had asked if we could try the recycling bins again. I had said yes, and had also told him that we would run an errand as well while we were out. Aaron sees all sorts of possibilities in the word “errand.” Most of which are in the form of food.

So there he was outside my bathroom door.

“Mom?” he began. “Are we going to recycle?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I said we’ll run an errand and do the recycling later.”

“What do you mean later?” he asked.

I wilted a little.

“Just later,” I replied.

A moment of silence.

“So what time?” he asked.

A Scrabble board in every room is what I need, with all the Monopoly pieces. Certainly in every area of life with Aaron.

 

 

The Detour

Aaron and I were in Dillon’s last week, where I told him to pick out some items for his Friday snack bag. I usually have his goodie bag all ready for him when he comes home on Friday but this week had been full of unexpected things that had made it impossible for me to have his bag done beforehand. He never minds picking out the items himself even though he also loves it when his bag is full of surprises. His treat bag is a reward for a week well done by Aaron…..or at least done, sometimes not all too well.

Better behaviors = bigger bag. Or so that’s how it was meant to go. Like his former teacher, Mr. Z, used to say – “Sometimes you have to make it worth his while.”

Aaron, ever the clever one, sometimes calls it bargaining. Nothing much slips by his awareness.

Anyway, it’s fun to give him something to look forward to and to work for at the end of his week. On this particular Friday, he had already walked fast and eagerly toward the bakery aisle where he knew there would be a container of croissants waiting for him. I gave my permission as he held the treasure up for me to see, but I said no to his hopeful request for TWO packages as he held up the second one for me to approve. Aaron just laughed, not at all surprised to be vetoed on that one, and then he lunged past the meat section toward the candy aisle……but not before stopping to loudly point out the lobster and shrimp like he always does. I could really just have a recording of my comments as we walk through the store on most days. He’s so predictable in many ways. In other ways, not so much.

Aaron turned left down the candy aisle, seeming oblivious to the sample lady standing nearby. This pleasant young lady had my attention, though, so I stopped at her little table to acknowledge her offer. I was distracted for a short time with little Twizzler samples and water flavor enhancers, chatting away as I am prone to do. We finished our brief conversation, said “Have a good day!” with our smiles…..and I noticed that her eyes darted down the candy aisle that was just behind us and her smile grew even larger.

I turned around and instantly knew why as she said, “Looks like he’s found some candy!” There was Aaron, getting down and personal with the Starburst Jelly Beans.

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And there was a man coming right toward him, pushing his cart and just looking at Aaron. I’m used to Aaron sitting down in store aisles when I’m not there to tell him no, but I imagine this man wasn’t at all sure of what was happening here. I was telling Aaron to stand up, but Aaron doesn’t stand up quickly from a sitting position…..and it’s quite a sight to see when he does……so now this man just swerved around Aaron and gave me a kind smile as he passed us.

I smiled back, thankful that he didn’t scowl or stare awkwardly.

At times like this I just need to have a sign that I can hold high. A sign that in bold letters says – DETOUR!!!

Aaron is truly completely clueless that he has done something a little strange or that he is disruptive. We face these moments constantly in his life. It’s just who Aaron is, and it’s who we must be as well.

We often must take a different route to our destination with Aaron, and hope that we arrive there…..and in one piece. What worked for our other two children didn’t work with Aaron and often still doesn’t. When our children were younger there were many moments of frustration from them as they tried to understand their unusual brother. They both went through times of questioning, as did Gary and I, about why Aaron acted the way he did. Even after the diagnosis of autism, we still struggled to understand what made Aaron tick.

There were times that Andrea and Andrew thought that Gary and I didn’t discipline enough. That we gave in too much. That we let Aaron have his way too often. Now that they are adults, things have settled down a lot and they really do understand their brother. They love him to pieces. It just takes time, education, and a little maturity to come to grips with a brother who can be disruptive and annoying……and super embarrassing in public!

We could be rolling right along in life and before we knew it…..DETOUR!!

A detour because of Aaron’s behaviors or actions…..a time we were forced to recalibrate…..to try to understand and to work through a situation. Or to be uber patient or thick skinned, despite the red on our faces or the words we wanted to say but couldn’t…..to Aaron or to insensitive others.

After all these years, when I turn and see Aaron sitting on the floor like he did at Dillon’s, it makes me laugh. He does look pretty cute and funny sitting there. I think people now are more aware, too, of these special needs. Their smiles and looks of understanding are more encouraging to us parents than they probably realize.

To you parents of special children, just keep the lines of communication open as much as possible with your other kids. Let them vent without judgment. Understand that age, hormones, peer pressure, and so many other things weigh into their reactions to their special sibling. Things WILL settle down with time. And in the meantime, try to spend some one-on-one time with your children, a time where they know they can safely talk to you and that you will have empathy.

And remember that we often have to take a detour, going around issues in a different way than we normally would, because that’s just how life is in their world……and we can’t change that.

Later Aaron shared some of his jelly beans with me. That’s the way it is. Understanding and love lead to sharing and sweetness.

Sticky and germy sometimes, but still it’s sharing, done Aaron’s way.

The DETOUR way.

A Little Understanding, Please

I shouldn’t have let Aaron go to his day group on Monday.  His mood was pretty foul at home, but he wanted to go and so I let him.  He only wanted to go because he knows that having a special meal on Friday night depends on him going to Paradigm every day.  Funny how these rewards can come back to bite me.  He was pleasant on the drive across town.  But the way he slammed the van door when he got out was a sign to me that it might be a rough day.  And it was.

I knew when I got the phone call from Paradigm that afternoon, and Barb said a quick hello before putting her phone on speaker.  That’s usually what she does when she wants Aaron to also talk, and wants him to hear me.  Aaron was yelling, very upset and belligerent.  It had been a no good, very bad day…..and was soon to get even worse.  At this point, Aaron didn’t want to ride home with his driver.  Last August, we hired an agency to bring Aaron home from Paradigm in the afternoons.  Aaron likes going from point A to point B, with no stops in between.  But the route includes other clients that go home before him, so this had become a trigger for Aaron.  On his no good, very bad day….Monday….he did NOT want to ride anywhere but home. 

Once Aaron is upset…really upset….he’s like a volcano that must erupt until the flow of anger is over.  His autism prevents him from calming easily.  It prevents him from listening to reason or being reasonable.  He has very few filters, so words fly when he erupts, and some are inappropriate.  He decided on Monday to go ahead and ride home with the driver, knowing that he really had no other choice.  But he promptly told her to shut up when he got in the car, and he refused to put on his seat belt.  The whole way.  Not good….not good at all.

Shortly after he got home, upset still but calming some, my phone rang.  It was the agency that provides his rides home, telling me that they were very sorry but that Aaron would no longer be allowed to ride with them.  I understood, but I tried to do some explaining and then I asked for a second chance….but two days later was told there was no second chance.  Good luck with finding a new driver….it’s been nice working with you…. 

Back to Monday.  After the phone call, Aaron looked stricken.  He decided to try to rectify things by offering to help cut the ends off the asparagus I was fixing for supper.  I let him.  And during supper, out of the blue, he asked if he could write a get well note to our friend, Atha.  She’s been very sick and is in a rehab center.  I got him a note card and he wrote her his succinct get well wishes.  They were words of gold to me that night.  I think they will be for Atha as well.

Later, though, as Gary and I tried to absorb the events of Aaron’s day – especially the loss of his ride home, which is huge – things went downhill fast.  Aaron ended up realizing that we were trying to bring up the recurring subject of him moving out one day….living in a residential setting. 

“You could live with some friends, Aaron!” we said.

“I DON’T WANT TO LIVE WITH FRIENDS!!” he yelled.

And he stormed up the stairs as he told us how much he hated us.

But within seconds he was stomping back down the stairs, sitting in the recliner and rocking furiously.

“You just want me to leave!” he said, with tears coming down his face.

We tried to explain….tried once again to reason with him.  It doesn’t work.

“Aaron, Rosa lives with her friends and comes home on weekends.  And Shauna, and Natalie….”we told him.

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT ROSA OR SHAUNA OR NATALIE!!” he again yelled…..and again stormed up the stairs.

This went on for a long time, until finally he….and we….were spent and there was nothing else to say.

Tuesday was a better day at his day group, for the most part.  I drove to Paradigm in the afternoon to pick him up, fighting my frustration.  It didn’t help me at all to see and hear Aaron being rude to another client.  I was distant and silent as we started the drive home, finally responding some to Aaron but being rather cold.  That wasn’t a good choice for me to make.

“Mom!” Aaron said.  “You’re ‘iknorin’ me!”

The volcano erupted once again when we got home.  Aaron kept saying over and over that I had ‘iknored’ him.  He was crying hard, and my heart was breaking.  I tried to explain, but to no avail.  He pulled a large picture off his wall, taking some paint and dry wall with it.  He ripped a dollar bill into pieces.  He very loudly slammed his door several times.  And he told me that he was going to put a sticky note on his door that said, “Mom is an idiot!!” 

I sat on his bed.  He had his headphones on as he looked at a video.  I told him again that I was sorry, and I asked him to forgive me.  All he could do was cry and say, “You were ‘iknorin’ me!!”

So I said the words that always reach his heart.

“Aaron?  Would you like to go get a Slushie from Sonic?”

Without even a pause he quickly said yes, and so we got in the van and got his slushie.  I parked in the Dillon’s parking lot, away from others, and he slurped while I talked.  He calmed and I tried to explain things, knowing full well that Aaron doesn’t relate to most of our explaining sessions.  Finally I was done.  There was quietness before Aaron spoke again.

“Mom?  There’s a reason why you shouldn’t watch Alien Vs. Predator 2.”

He didn’t notice my deep sigh or the shaking of my head.

Oh, if only Aaron could convey to us his hurt and his anger with reasoning words instead of hard and hurtful words!  Or curse words.  Or just totally ignoring the situation and talking about aliens. 

Aaron often doesn’t even know why he’s frustrated.  He just is on some days.  As he escalates, so do others around him, and that only further compounds the issues.  I reacted with ‘iknorin’ him on some of the drive home, which I really shouldn’t have done, so he reacted.  Did he ever!  But he was afraid that I didn’t love him anymore.  He’s terrified of losing my love, but he can’t verbalize that.  So he reacts with anything that comes to his mind that demonstrates his deep fear and hurt.  That usually means that he breaks something, like his watch or his glasses or his picture on the wall or the dollar bill.

Why am I telling you all of this ugliness?

I’m sitting here listening to Aaron’s monitor….listening for another seizure which may come.  He had a long seizure at 5:30 this morning, and only one seizure means that usually more will follow during the day.  He’s napping in his room and I’m on alert as I go about my day. 

I tell you the ugliness of his behaviors because really, those behaviors hold him down more in life than do his seizures.  It’s a raw, hard reality for many parents of special needs children.  Those sudden, awful, interrupting, exhausting behaviors.

I can explain seizures.  Other parents can explain various visible special needs of their children, or even special needs not seen but understood.    But behaviors?  So frustrating….so embarrassing…..so condemning for both child and parent.

But we need those behaviors to be understood as well.  And we as parents need to always work to understand them, too, especially in the heat of the moment. 

I have friends who would say to others, “Please, please understand my loud and uncooperative and bizarre and hateful child.  Please just try to understand, and not judge and not condemn and try to give advice or lectures.  Just understand, a little even.  Sometimes that’s all we can manage, too.  A little.”

And love a lot.

Tuesday night, as Gary was going to bed, he said, “Hey Aaron.  Come here.” 

I thought that Gary had something cool to show Aaron, so I looked around the corner of the kitchen to see what it was.

And as Aaron walked toward his dad, Gary held his arm out and gave Aaron a hug.  Aaron even responded!

I blinked back the tears.  Sometimes it’s hard to love Aaron, honestly, but we must….and we do.  I was very thankful for that sweet picture that ended our second no good, very bad day with Aaron.

One more thing.  I went inside Paradigm yesterday when I went to pick up Aaron.  What a lifter-upper that was!!  Those wonderful clients, with so many needs, have so much love to give….even on or after the bad days.  Love for me and more importantly, love for Aaron.  We could hardly leave for all the hugs and talking and smiling. 

Every day is a new day, as Barb says.  A fresh new start.

“This is the day which the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it!” 

But sometimes I AM glad when they’re over.  J 

Playing Skip-Bo at the end of one of those rough days

A Fight to the Finish

I’ve written in the past about how much it means to me when someone “gets” Aaron.  You know what I mean.  It’s when a person out somewhere in a public setting reacts to Aaron in a way that makes me know they totally understand him.  Or at least partially understand him.  I don’t know that even Gary and I on some days totally “get” Aaron.  This past Friday night was an example of both. 

Aaron and I went to Subway to get our special Friday supper, as per Aaron’s request.  One of the girls who began with our order was very nice, but I could tell that she was nervous with Aaron.  She was unsure of what to say to him, and very unsure of what he was saying to her as he robustly placed his order. 

“Can I have a sub?” he bellowed, with me standing close by patting his arm in an effort to soften his tone. 

“And can I have extra cheese?” he continued bellowing.  “My Mom says I can’t have extra cheese!” he rambled on as she was just saying that he COULD have extra cheese, and so she glanced nervously at me. 

I told her to go ahead with the cheese, which caused Aaron to bend over and rub his hands together as he laughed in delight…..which caused her to attempt an uncertain smile as she placed the extra cheese on the meat, all under Aaron’s watchful eye.  I wanted to tell her that it was OK….that Aaron was loud but harmless…..but I didn’t do that with Aaron standing right there.  I just hoped my smile would convey to her what I was thinking.

Just then, the manager appeared and began helping with our order.  I remembered her and she remembered Aaron.  This girl’s mother worked with special needs and so she grew up around other Aarons.  Therefore, she was very relaxed and affirming toward Aaron. 

“What you need, Buddy?” she asked Aaron as she waited for him to complete his order.  Nothing he said or did from that point on phased her in the least.  I think the other server was as happy for her to take over as I was.  Aaron was just very happy to finish his requests, figure out the mayonnaise issue, and watch as his sandwich was wrapped and labeled. 

Yes, we deal with watching others try to understand our Aaron nearly every day.  I wanted to hug the two who were on duty at Papa Murphy’s a couple weeks earlier.  They completely engaged Aaron on his level as they made our pizzas.  Aaron stood there in total happiness as he loudly talked to them about aliens and spaceships and rubbed his hands together like crazy as they responded to him as if he was talking to them about school or sports. 

Then there was the young man behind the counter at the theater yesterday, his eyes big with uncertainty as Gary and I both exited the restrooms at the same time.  Aaron was talking to him about the Star Wars movie, I think it was, that we had just seen.  All I could focus on was the “Would you please rescue me?” look on the boy’s face as he tried to figure out what to do with Aaron.  Aaron loves a captive audience, and that boy was just that.  He looked it, too, as Aaron talked loudly – of course!- and rubbed his hands together and laughed.  We tried to quiet Aaron and lead him away but Aaron had more to say.  As we finally left, I laughed and I thanked the shocked young man.  I really wanted to walk back to him and say, “You have just encountered the amazing world of autism!”  But I knew that Aaron would follow me and pick up his story where he had left off, so I left well enough alone as we walked to the van, Aaron talking all the way…..of course.

All of these are mostly “Ha-Ha” funny moments.  They may be embarrassing to us at times, or frustrating, but they are not usually awful.  Those more disturbing moments happen at his day group and occasionally at home.  That was also the case on Friday night.  We went from hugs when Aaron came home from his day group to the joy of ordering and eating subs to the downward spiral of Aaron’s cascading emotions.

It all started with me realizing that Aaron wasn’t telling me the truth about his rough day at Paradigm.  I made an off handed comment that hurt Aaron’s feelings, so after we watched Wheel of Fortune he turned to me and had “that” look on his face and in his eyes.  I knew then that he had started down that track of frustration.  Time proved that evening that Aaron wasn’t going to be easily derailed.  His emotions were in a turmoil, as were ours.  Yet if we escalated, it would only serve to further escalate Aaron, which is the last thing that needed to happen.  He escalates very well on his own, thank you.  Gary and I tried to exercise firmness with calmness.  Just when we hoped that Aaron had calmed, though, we would soon hear his heavy steps coming downstairs to engage us once again in the battle that was going on in his head.  He was almost manic in his laughter and in his efforts to unsettle us.  It truly is amazing to see, but not amazing in a funny way.

It’s the other side of Aaron that we don’t see that often at home anymore.  It’s him in a fight to express himself and voice his hurt over his own actions, or over ours.  But he simply cannot tell us with calm and rational words what it is that is bothering him.  Therefore, he chooses something that he knows will either alarm or frustrate us, and he will go off on it over and over again.  Just when we think that our words of great wisdom have reached into Aaron’s head, he starts all over again on that same issue and our heads just bow down in defeat. 

I sat in Aaron’s bedroom with him late that night.  He sat on his bed, legs dangling, trying to express himself and his emotions but clearly unable to do so in the way you and I would.  But he was winding down, I could tell.  I just needed to wait patiently, listen closely, and pray silently.  I literally bowed my head in prayer as Aaron talked.  I knew he saw me but he never asked what I was doing.  He may have thought Mom was falling asleep.  After all, it was after 11:30….way past both our bedtimes! 

At last he said he was going to bed.  I watched as he pulled back his covers and then began arranging his snake, skunk, and frog in perfect order.  I wanted to rush over and yank the covers up over Mr. Snake as Aaron worked and worked and worked to turn his lower skinny stuffed body just the right way.  But I knew that one wrong move could open up Aaron’s emotions again, so I just stood and wearily watched.  Finally all was well with the stuffed animals and the pulled up covers. 

I asked Aaron if he was reading before he went to sleep.

“No,” he said with no emotion.  “It’s 11:47.”

I was relieved.

“Mom?” he asked.  “’Guess what?”

And I knew he had nothing to say.  He does this when he wants us to stay with him.  He asks, “Guess what?” and then tries hard to think of something to say.

“What?” I answered.

“I’m wearing my watch lower,” he said as he pulled his shirt sleeve up. 

Maybe it was a few centimeters lower, but it sure was hard to see the difference.

“Mom?”  he asked again.  “Guess what?”

“What?” I repeated

“When Independence Day Resurgence comes out, do you think the theaters will be crowded?”

Sigh.

“I don’t know, Aaron.  We’ll just wait and see,” I replied.

“Mom!  Look at this!”

And at 11:49 I was looking at the back of the original Independence Day movie box and talking about the plasma ray coming down from the spaceship.

Oh dear.  Would this night ever end?

But if finally did, only after Aaron went up and down the steps several times to tell Gary about plasma rays and new Independence Day movie news and to say good night once again. 

Earlier during the evening, when Aaron was working through his anger, he began feeling badly about his actions.  He came to me in the kitchen and had something in his hand he wanted me to take.  I held out my hand, and Aaron gave me some of his Mike and Ikes.  They were sticky and I’m sure covered in multiple germs, but he stood there waiting for me to eat them.  So I did, praying silently for God to please strengthen my immune system at that moment. 

“I wanted to give you these Mike and Ikes since I’m sorry,” he explained as he waited for me to enjoy them.  So what could I do but eat them? 

And what can we do but try our best to do what we hope others will do with Aaron.  We appreciate the understanding that strangers show to Aaron.  Can we do less?  Understanding what makes him tick, what makes him upset, what it is he is really trying to say when he is so upset……this is all part of figuring him out. 

It’s “getting Aaron.”  Not condoning behaviors, which we don’t, but understanding the behaviors as much as a parent of a child with asthma understands an asthma attack.  I thought of all this when I was sitting in Aaron’s room with him, watching him come to the end of the fight, and realizing how vital it is that I understand.

It means as much to Aaron for us to understand as it does to us for others to understand.  Complicated.  But so very necessary. 

Aaron?  Guess what? 

We’ll keep trying to understand. 

And I should keep a box of Mike and Ikes stashed somewhere for good measure.

Can I Resign?

I had some nice quiet time as I sat on the couch beside our newly decorated Christmas tree this morning.  I love the early morning quietness, the soft shiny lights on the tree, and my cups of coffee.  Time to think, to remember, and to pray.

Then I heard Aaron getting out of bed.

So the mood changes.  Now it’s time to think of how to deal with whatever mood he has; to remember to be understanding and patient; and to pray for that understanding and patience when I feel it slipping away.

Aaron was sick yesterday with a stomach virus.  He threw up multiple times, but by last night was doing well enough to keep down some applesauce; watch part of the latest movie in which he is totally engrossed; and play a game of Skip-Bo…..beating me, by the way, which made him feel even better.

As he came down the stairs and into the kitchen this morning, I asked him how he was feeling.

“Fine,” he flatly answered.  “Can I have my three cups of coffee now?”

He always includes the number of cups when he asks for his coffee, just in case Mom has forgotten the all-important fact that he always has and always will drink THREE cups of coffee in the morning. 

I then asked him if he wanted to sit for a few minutes by the Christmas tree with me…..and would he also want to drink a cup of coffee as we sat sweetly enjoying the tree.  He informed me, rather reluctantly, that he would sit by the tree but that he did NOT want a cup of coffee to drink there. 

“I want my three cups of coffee in my room,” he informed his ignorant Mom.  Doesn’t she know that coffee, THREE cups of coffee, is only to be gulped down in his room? 

We sat down on the couch, me with my cup of coffee and Aaron with his subtle exasperation that Mom would even suggest that he also have a cup of coffee by the tree.  He was quiet for a minute but of course it wasn’t long before he began with his usual, “Mom?”

I waited.  He says this so often, but he doesn’t really have a plan of what is to follow the familiar, “Mom?”  I waited some more.  “Mom?  Uh……”  So now he was trying to decide what to say, because all this business of sitting sweetly…..and quietly……by the Christmas tree is pretty strange. 

I would love to have heard Aaron say, “Mom?  Do you know why I act so hatefully sometimes at Paradigm?”  Having such a heart to heart with Aaron would have been the best gift ever for me! 

But instead, it was “Mom?  Have you seen pictures of Transformers Revenge of the Fallen on the internet?”  He didn’t even notice my resignation or how I tried to muster a little enthusiasm in order to act even remotely interested in Transformers Revenge of the Fallen.  I told him that I didn’t know if I had seen pictures of Transformers Revenge of the Fallen on the internet, because all of these games and these movies and these pictures just jumble together into one blob of sameness for me.  I didn’t tell him that part about a blob of sameness, though, for fear that he would want to talk about The Blob movie that he and I watched a few weeks ago.  That’s not what I wanted to remember on this morning beside the pretty Christmas tree.

Aaron then got up and went up the stairs, monkey style like he does, and soon returned with his Transformers Revenge of the Fallen guide book.  He knew just where to open it in order to show me Demolisher…..the bad guy, I found out after asking because that’s something else I can never remember…..and Bumble Bee and Optimus Prime…..both good guys…..who came in and saved the day.  Aaron was happy to be talking to Mom about these important matters.  He would not have been happy to talk to Mom about such unimportant matters as his behaviors and motives for such. 

 
Aaron has had some rough days at Paradigm in the last few weeks.  Not every day, but many days he exhibits anger and aggression there.  It’s like he becomes The Incredible Hulk when he walks in the door.  Gary and I try to get to the bottom of it, but to no avail.  He doesn’t act like that at home.  He has issues at home, certainly, but not to the extent seen at his day group.  It’s discouraging and embarrassing and very frustrating to Gary and me.  If only Aaron would talk about it on a heart level, but even Aaron doesn’t really know why he reacts the way he does.  These autism behaviors are like that.  Unexplainable…..spontaneous……disruptive……sometimes hurtful.

This past Monday, Aaron was in a mood when he woke up.  It was because of the bad day he had at Paradigm on the day before Thanksgiving.  That dark cloud was still hanging over his head.  We worked through his issues on Monday and he decided to go to Paradigm.  On the way there, he was very happy to stop with me at Wal-Mart.  I hoped that Aaron would let me pick something up there for him to eat for lunch at Paradigm, but for some reason Aaron usually refuses to take food to Paradigm.  When he told me that he was eating sandwiches offered to him by others, I became so frustrated.  I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t budge.  Finally, with a degree of humor, I told him that I wanted to just resign from my Mom position.  I was tired, so just give me the letter of resignation and let me sign it!

Aaron turned and looked at me, and then started laughing…..thankfully.  It was one of those moments when I wished I hadn’t said those words, even in jest, so I was thankful that he saw the humor. 

“You can’t resign from being my mom,” he slowly said.  “You’ll always be my mom.”

“Yes, Aaron, I’ll always be your mom,” I replied.  But some days…..

So last night, after he had been sick all day, I watched him getting his snake and frog and skunk positioned just right in his bed.  I watched him get his covers the way he wants them.  I watched him write down his time to bed in his bedtime log book.  I kept my distance.  No hugging because of germs, I told him.  He just stood and looked at me, then turned to get in bed with no usual goodnight hug. 

“Mom?  Are you gonna take care of me if I did throw up during the night?” he asked. 

There went the tug on my heart as I assured him that I would take care of him.

“So, like, if I throw up you’ll wash my face?” he hopefully asked.

Yes, dear Aaron.  I’ll wash your face.  I’ll look at pictures of Transformers Revenge of the Fallen.  I’ll see that you have THREE cups of coffee in your room.  I’ll see you through the rough days. 

And I’ll tear up those resignation papers.  Because I do love you, no matter what.  And I’ll always be Mom.

 

Name Your War

We recently renovated Aaron’s bedroom.  It’s fun to have newly painted walls and ceiling, new closet doors painted a little darker than the walls, new valence and bedspread, new ceiling fan, the furniture moved to new positions, and new organization to Aaron’s clutter.  I bought some really pretty bins that are a tough woven fabric with a bright fabric lined interior.  They are a deep gray color and blend in nicely with his light gray walls.  One of them fit perfectly in Aaron’s night stand opening.  Not only that, but his Handy Answer books fit in that bin perfectly, and even left room for Aaron’s bedtime log book on top.  Perfect!  I was delighted!

But Aaron…..not so much.  He has adjusted to everything in his new room, but there is one area in which he will not budge.  You see, I want Aaron’s floor beside his bed to look like this:

 

Yet Aaron insists on keeping his books that he is reading, as well as his bedtime log book, like this:

 

I want things one way.  However, do or die, Aaron insists on keeping his books in their line beside his bed.  On the floor.  Not in the nice, orderly bin that I purchased for the purpose of keeping his room and floor neat…….but on the floor.  I’ve quit fighting it.  We could have the Books on the Floor War for the rest of our natural lives and nothing would change Aaron’s mind.  Of this I am certain.

The Books on the Floor War isn’t the only battle we fight.  There is also the Is the Plant Real War.  I turned around for a split second at his last doctor appointment while in the waiting room, so at the elevator Aaron held up a leaf…..a leaf that he had just pulled off the plant in the doctor’s waiting room. 

 

“Mom!” he excitedly said.  “That plant is REAL!”

No kidding, Aaron.  And he heard once again the lecture that goes along with the Is the Plant Real War, but I knew my brilliant wartime lecture was falling on deaf ears. 

We also have the Grey Spot on the Sock War.  I don’t know why Aaron insists on wearing the heel of his sock up on the top of his ankle.  I have instructed, demonstrated, assisted, and again lectured…..but to no avail.  More often than not, the grey heel is terribly misplaced, but Aaron doesn’t terribly care.  Actually, he doesn’t care at all.  And he doesn’t understand why I do care. 

Then there’s the Take Things Off the Kitchen Counter And Come Show it To Mom War.  Does he think I don’t know what’s laying on the kitchen counter?  Saturday he came downstairs where I was watching football.  He stood right in front of me, holding up a stick of butter that he had just nabbed off the counter as he walked through the kitchen.

 

“Mom!” he said.  “This says salted butter?  Then it must be sweet!” 

I laughed, and Aaron thought he had won this battle of the Take Things Off the Kitchen Counter and Come Show it To Mom War.  So he launched right into the If It’s In My Hand I’ll Let Jackson Sniff It War, and another mom lecture ensued. 

Finding humor in the way Aaron thinks and acts is one way that I get by from day to day.  He truly makes me laugh a lot, yet there are many times that I really do want certain areas of his life to be more orderly in ways that matter.  I wish that Aaron’s reactions could be as disciplined as a picked up floor, for instance, but there are occasions that his emotions become messy and even painful. 

Such was the case yesterday.  The set-up actually began the day before that, on Wednesday.  Aaron woke up for some reason at 5:09, he said.  Of course he would be so precise.  He went to the bathroom but said he couldn’t go back to sleep, so he went all day with no nap and by that evening was very tired.  Then the next morning, yesterday, he was sleeping soundly when I finally had to get him up to get ready for his day.

Waking Aaron up is usually not a good way for him to start his day.  He was pretty grouchy before we left for his group, but he buckled down and went.  However, on up in the day he had a meltdown with Barb.  He was very belligerent with her and vocal.  He also broke his watch….again.  When he came home later, the first thing he did was to ask me if I had heard what had happened.  I hadn’t, but I could tell from his stressed look and his tired eyes that it wasn’t going to be a pretty story. 

Aaron also shared it with Gary later as they walked around the yard.  I just watched them and thought of poor Gary, handling issues at work all day and then coming home to hear another war story of Aaron’s.  Yet it’s what we do as parents….what all parents do….although at our age we did think we’d be done with all this “stuff” that needs our wisdom and patience. 

We want Aaron’s life to be neat, with everything in its place, like books in a bin.  Aaron had been very happy for a couple weeks, maybe longer, and we were really enjoying the reprieve.  But autism and autistic behaviors don’t just disappear into a neat bin beside his bed.  I had seen the warning signs and I was right.  Aaron hit the proverbial wall and pieces were now scattered all over.

Gary and I helped him pick up those pieces as best we could.  So did Barb as she texted me and told me to tell Aaron that she loved him and would be happy to see him tomorrow.  “He has had many good days,” she texted, “and tomorrow is a new one.”

She was right.  I had to remind Aaron of that fact as he came downstairs this morning with a stormy look on his face, saying he didn’t want to go to Paradigm because of what happened yesterday.  We had to work through it this morning, with me being careful not to escalate this angry time into a War of Words.  He came out swinging, too, as he realized that I was checking the time of the West Virginia/Oklahoma State football game for tomorrow.

“I vote for Oklahoma!!” he declared…..hoping that he had wounded me.  He had no idea of how funny that was to me. 

He did go to Paradigm this morning, rather happily, despite these proclamations during his What Words Will Work on Mom War:

“I’m only going because you want me to!”

“I’m only going because you’re making me!”

“I’m only going because I want pizza!”

 

And when we got to Paradigm, Aaron wanted me to come in and talk to Barb, which I did.  Aaron was a little huffy at first.  He wouldn’t hug Barb, but shook her hand very properly…..and I smiled.  Hopefully he’s been all right today.  Hopefully the war for him is over.  Hopefully his scattered pieces are back in the bin, neat and orderly, although he’ll always leave a few on the floor where he wants them. 

And we leave them there, because some battles in some wars just aren’t worth fighting.  It’s part of what makes Aaron unique, challenging, and full of his own way of living in his world.

It’s part of what makes us stay on our knees, trusting God for what we need to fight whatever war may come our way today. 

  

 

Aaron’s Notes

I saw this on Gary’s desk the other day.

 

This note was written by Aaron, and it made me smile.  He was obviously in a happy mood that day, particularly toward Gary, and so he expressed it as he often does with a little note.  Aaron’s not being disrespectful in calling his dad by his first name.  I mean, Gary is Gary’s name, right?  Aaron knows that we try to get him to call others by their first names instead of saying, “Hey, you!”  Or just saying, “Hey!”…..and then pointing, as he did often during our recent trip to see family.  So on this day of note making, Dad was Gary….and we smile at that.

Aaron keeps copious lists of many areas of his life.  He writes down the chapter that he just finished when he stops watching a movie.  He writes down his computer game notes and stopping points.  He keeps this list of his going to bed and getting up in the morning times:

 

And this list of our Skip-Bo wins:

 

Aaron also loves his Post-It notes.  He leaves various messages in various places, like the one that he left on Gary’s desk.  Some of his messages are not so nice, though.  Like this one a couple years ago that he left on his door during a very grouchy morning.  I got that message loud and clear……and I’ll admit that I thought it was pretty funny, although I didn’t share that sentiment with Aaron.

 

He sometimes leaves me reminder notes.

 

He has left sweet notes, and sometimes not so sweet notes, to the various staff at his day group.  Here is one that Barb sent me, a note that Aaron wrote on her desk calendar.

 

But by far my favorite note is this one that he left on my desk quite awhile ago, and that I still keep there.

 

I like looking at it on bad days, especially.  It always makes me smile.

I love you, too, Aaron……sweat and all. 

What Happened to Happy?

It’s very interesting, as we live this life with Aaron, how we see all the ups and downs that go along with autism and Epilepsy and developmental delays.  We not only see the ups and downs, but we deeply experience their effects on him personally and on us as well.  Certainly anything that affects Aaron impacts Gary and I, too, and what a ride it can be!

Aaron really wants to enjoy happiness, but he wants it on his terms.  Sometimes that’s just not possible.  There are occasions where Gary and I walk a fine line as we attempt to provide a happy environment for Aaron without giving in to his every whim.  It’s like being on a boat.  We can be trolling along, happy and peaceful, and then all of a sudden we run upon choppy seas that threaten to overturn us.  Some days we can see the storm coming with Aaron as we read his mood.  Other days the storm swirls in out of the blue, unexpected, catching us off guard and then demanding all of our skills that we hoped we’ve learned over the years of parenting Aaron. 

This past Sunday night, Aaron and I were in the kitchen after playing Skip-Bo.  He was thinking of the next day as he said, “Mom, tomorrow’s Paradigm.  Let’s not let me go!”

I laughed at the funny way he phrased his comment, and then he laughed, and all was well.  The next day he was more adamant about not wanting to go.  Aaron loves Paradigm, but his dream life would be to stay home every day playing on the computer or watching movies.  That’s not going to happen and he knows it, but he still tries to test those waters.  He did go to Paradigm, but he did slam the van door and so I prayed as I drove away that somehow he would have a good day.  Barb said he was VERY grouchy when he came in but then settled down and had a really great day.  Yay!  Not yay for VERY grouchy, but yay that the rest of the day was great. 

Aaron pushed my buttons when he got home, blaming me for ruining his dream life and other ills as well.  Supper didn’t suit him, so Gary and I actually enjoyed a nice meal alone with uninterrupted conversation.  May as well see the silver lining in the cloud.

Later, Aaron and I had a talk, where I got firm and Aaron saw the light.  He was nice the rest of the evening…..almost.  Then came bedtime.  Why do so many things happen at bedtime?!  For instance, a couple weeks ago it was time for bed and Aaron knew it was time for bed.  If anyone knows anything about time, it’s Aaron!  But he was watching a movie, not wanting to quit until he was at some magic point, and so I did all the bedtime chores I do for him….and still he sat at his desk, engrossed in the movie. 

So I said goodnight, with some aggravation in my voice, and went to my bedroom.  I locked the door because I figured I would be followed.  Sure enough, I soon heard Aaron’s heavy steps coming up the hall.  He knocked loudly on the bedroom door and then said, “Mom!  I want to say goodnight in my room!”  You see, I hadn’t said our goodnights in the proper Aaron way.  I sighed and opened the door, where Aaron repeated what he had said about saying goodnight in his room.

“Come on!” he commanded as he walked briskly up the hall toward his room, before I could object.  But I did.  “Aaron,” I protested.  “I already said goodnight.”

“But you weren’t happy,” he explained.  How perceptive, I thought.  So, very tired and just wanting sleep, I followed him to his room.  He went into his room, turned toward me, and reached out for a hug.  I complied with an obligatory hug, not a heartfelt one.  I was still aggravated….and Aaron knew it.  I even said goodnight, but Aaron stared hard at me and then said, “You’re still not happy!”

So out went his arms again and this time I had to smile, more inside than out, as I gave him another hug.  I tried to make this hug more sincere, and I even did smile an outside smile as he stared at me again.

“Are you happy?” he cautiously asked.  And I assured him that I was happy, so that he would be happy, and I finally was released to go to bed…..at last!  His insistence on going to bed happy really was the right thing to do, much as I didn’t want to participate at that point, and his perceptions were also pretty amazing. 

Back to Monday night.  On Monday night I found myself wishing with all my might that Aaron wanted to be happy.  You see, Gary and I are getting ready to paint Aaron’s bedroom.  Gary has patched Aaron’s walls, but on Monday night Aaron wanted to show Gary a huge mark on his otherwise repaired wall.  Gary was shocked to see the mark.  We both think that Aaron made that mark on Monday morning when he was mad at me, but Aaron wouldn’t own up to that at all.  In fact, when Gary asked Aaron when he had made the gouge in the wall, Aaron hit the roof.  Boy, did he ever react!!

Aaron accused Gary of accusing him of making the mark.  “Well,” Gary replied, “who else could have made it?”  Aaron was beyond furious.  He became livid.  Gary and I both ended up in Aaron’s room, where Aaron erupted over and over.  He was in a full meltdown, and it wasn’t pretty.  It’s actually very amazing to see the progression of his thought processes when he’s out of control like that.  I’m just thankful that we don’t see this scene very often.  He never owned up to making the mark, but he sure did fling out all sorts of insults and angry comments.  I told Gary to go on to bed, and I sat with Aaron for awhile.  He was mad at me, too, at this point.  He watched a movie for a few minutes and then commanded me to leave his room. 

What happened to happy?  It was totally gone at that point!  I went to our bedroom, where Aaron followed and barged in, yelling some more and refusing to leave.  He did finally leave and he did stay in his room.  He went to bed around 12:30.  I’m sure he wrote down the precise time in his journal. 

He went to Paradigm the next morning.  I praised him for his maturity.  When he returned home that afternoon, I could tell that he was still struggling with some anger.  Yet when Gary got home, Aaron was fine.  We had supper and a pleasant evening, which was so welcome after the awful anger of the night before.  Aaron asked me to tell Gary what I had told him about being mature, so I told Gary how mature Aaron was to go to Paradigm without a fight.  Aaron stood there rubbing his hands together as I praised him to Gary, so happy at those words…..at last!

Yesterday after supper, Gary and Aaron took a walk out in our back yard with Jackson.  I looked outside and felt warmed by the sight of the two of them walking together.  What a picture of reconciliation!  The restoring of relationship is something we do fairly often with Aaron.  We must….because we love him and because it’s right.  All of us have these family moments and life moments where we have to come together again with those who have angered or hurt us.   Gary and I have to be the adults in these situations with Aaron.

But I guess that’s not always true, is it?  Didn’t I just tell about how Aaron came to get me when he knew I wasn’t happy?  How he insisted on being happy before we went to bed?  So I know that there are times when Aaron can and does get it right…..and I have it wrong. 

Our boat is once again sailing calmly.  He knows that tomorrow is Friday and that I’ve agreed with his request of a Papa Murphy’s pizza for supper.  Yet I know that the winds can change direction at any time, and another storm can blow upon us.  I know that I will once again, at some point, be asking what happened to happy.  Let’s pray that happy hugs are all it takes next time to bring the ship upright and make it steady again.    

Let’s hear it for happy!

And hugs!  Lots of happy hugs!

Who Am I Now?

Aaron has always called us a variety of names, some nice and some not-so-nice.  No amount of lecturing, fussing, or instruction has made him change that practice.  Sometimes his name calling shows us the mood that he is in, or the way that he is feeling.  Take this morning…..

Aaron walked into the kitchen.  It was early and he had already talked to me upstairs after he got out of bed.  He was mellow and in a good mood, so when he walked into the kitchen he said, “Hi Sweetie.”  That was it.  He didn’t add anything sarcastic, which I expected but was relieved not to hear.  So I returned his greeting by calling him sweetie, and again I awaited a less-than-flattering response.  However, he didn’t say another word.  Later, when I went into his room to get his glasses for cleaning, I said, “I’m just getting your glasses, sweetie.”  I still expected something negative from him, but he was still quiet.  That was nice.  He and I were still sweeties.

When it was time for him to turn off his computer, I walked in his room again to tell him so.  He was quiet, but he didn’t turn it off.  Finally, after a couple reminders he finally turned it off.  He wasn’t really happy, though, because he knew I was a little frustrated…..and because he doesn’t like to be hurried.  As he got in the van, I asked him if he had closed the family room doors.

“Yes, Bossy,” he replied.  Uh-huh.  He really was frustrated at being told to hurry, and then being reminded about the doors.  I had gone from being “sweetie” to being “bossy.” 

As we drove to Paradigm, I reminded him to tell Barb that he wouldn’t be there on Monday due to a doctor appointment.  “Ok, Master,” he answered.  So now I was master.  The one in charge, who was reminding Aaron of something he needed to do.  An annoying Master, at that.  His tone was not exactly loving.

Later, as we pulled up in front of Paradigm, he asked me if I could come in.  I had errands to run and Aaron had already made me a little late, so I reminded him of that as I told him that I couldn’t go in with him this morning.  I knew he was disappointed at this, but did he tell me that?  No!  Did he convey in words his wish that I could come in?  No again! 

Instead, as he got out of the van and I said good-bye, he responded with, “Good-bye, my Ugliness.” 

He shut the door before I could respond.  Hey!  Now you’re getting personal, Aaron!  Which is exactly what he wanted to do.  He wanted to get personal so that I would feel as bad about the name I was called as he felt about the fact that I wouldn’t go inside Paradigm with him.  As strange as it seems, and as inappropriate as it is, I know that this is Aaron’s way of conveying how he is feeling.  I’ll talk to him about it when he comes home, like I have many other times, knowing that he will not likely change that way he has of communicating. 

So I guess that this morning I was a woman of many personalities.  I went from Sweetie, to Bossy, to Master, to my Ugliness.  I’m getting confused!

One more thing – Aaron doesn’t like it when I make my voice sound different or funny.  It almost always irritates him.  Sometimes even just a mild inflection from me, or maybe talking a little softer or louder, makes him comment….and it’s rarely complimentary, as you can see from his name calling. 

One morning he came in the kitchen and I asked him if he wanted some coffee.  I told him that I had made fresh coffee.  I don’t quite know what it was, but something about my voice made him irritated that morning.  He told me not to say it like that….whatever “that” was…..so I just ignored him and went ahead with pouring his coffee.  But he wasn’t done.

“I’m gonna tell Barb that you speak in strange voices sometimes!” he declared.

So I have multiple personalities and speak in strange voices, to hear Aaron tell it.  Things are far worse around here than we let on, I guess. 

My Ugliness?  Where’s my mirror?!