Category: Relationships

Simple is Good

I can hear our Kansas wind outside blowing like crazy. We’ve had several days in a row of very strong winds, typical for flat Kansas. I can also walk by a mirror and see that I’ve been out in the wind as I look at my fly-away hair!! The winds remind me of living with Aaron in many ways. He’s like shifting winds most days. We never know what we’ll wake up to find with Aaron as far as his mood or his physical state or his general attitude.

Lately, though, he’s been mostly very happy. I wrote about that a couple blogs ago. It’s been fun for us to experience, and definitely a relief for the staff at his day group, I’m sure.

But I should have known that on the very next day after posting my happy blog, Aaron woke up in a mostly grouchy mood. Why does that happen? Anyway, he kept coming into the bathroom where I was putting on my makeup, fixing my hair, and doing all my getting ready things that morning.

“Mom, can you hurry?” he impatiently asked.

“Mom, why are you taking so long?”

“Mom, did you clean my glasses?”

“Mom, why aren’t you ready?”

I know that when he’s like this it’s better to mostly ignore him instead of returning his impatience, so that’s what I did. But not before I made one observation.

“Aaron,” I said. “You were so happy yesterday. So why are you angry this morning? What happened during the night?”

He just stood there and stared at me. I continued with my face preparation as he stared. Then he simply turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Soon he was back, of course.

“Well, All Star is boring!” he informed me. “I found that out during the night.”

It was really hard not to laugh. So that’s what he found out during the night? That All Star Sports, their activity for that day, was boring? Since when?!

Aaron went on to his day group and he had a reasonable day, from what I was told. I went in to his day group with him to talk to Barb about whether Aaron and I could take supper over to one of their residential homes on Friday. Aaron’s best friends, all girls, live there and he had been wanting to go back there again as we have done in the past. It cheered him up to have that planned at last. This was on Wednesday.

The next night, Thursday, Aaron had two hard seizures during the night. He stayed home on Friday, feeling crummy, but wondering over and over if we could still go to “Shawna’s house,” as he calls it. He insisted on going to get a few groceries with me, walking like a zombie through the store. He slept off and on during the day, but had no more seizures. We did take chicken enchiladas and No Bake Cookies to his friend’s house. I was so thankful that it worked out for Aaron to do that. He slept all the way there and most of the way home, but he had a good time at their house as we sat around the table, eating and talking. The girls had missed him that day at Paradigm, and they were so sweet…..rubbing his back and asking him how he felt. Each of them has significant special needs, so it’s just very touching to see them worry about Aaron.

Aaron was in bed a little after 8:00 that night, totally exhausted. But he kept coming back downstairs to be sure that it was OK for him to go to bed so early. It was fine with us, but not so much for Aaron and his rigid schedule. Bedtime is 10:00 or later!! Not 8:00!! But he slept for 12 hours and woke up a new person.

A very new person!!

Look at what Aaron did with Gary and I on Saturday.

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Aaron, who resists most work…..and definitely yard or garden work….actually got outside with us and helped!!

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And he helped happily!!

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He gathered up the big Crepe Myrtle limbs that I pruned, and he pulled up old tomato stakes with Gary in our garden.

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And Jackson supervised all of us.

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It was a really a pleasant afternoon, and a surprising one for us as we watched Aaron willingly help.

Simple pleasures mean the most to us. The warm sunshine, the fresh air, trying to find the pecking woodpecker we heard, laughing at Jackson encounter our neighbor’s trying-to-be-brave cat, and ending the day with a simple supper…..Wheel of Fortune and Blue Bloods…..and a couple games of Skip-Bo.

The older we get, the more we know that simple is good. Simple is better for Aaron. And the things that make him happiest inevitably do the same for us as well.

Happy, Giving Aaron!

I wanted to write a quick blog tonight in order to test my new blog site. I have switched to WordPress now for blogging since I was having so much trouble with Blogspot. Gary couldn’t fix the problems, and if he can’t fix them they can’t be fixed.  That’s a mouthful, but it’s true. Anyway, more about all that in another blog. I just want to test my new site tonight. Bear with me as I work out the kinks. Who am I kidding?! Bear with me as Gary works out the kinks and I sit beside him wringing my hands. 🙂

I have to say something about Aaron, though, right? He has been so happy lately!! I’m almost afraid to say it! He’s just thriving in his friendships at Paradigm, his day group, and is enjoying doing what he loves to do the most…..giving. Here are some things he has recently taken from home, on three different days, to give to his friends.

His whale:

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His fluffy dog:

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His other stuffed dog:

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And today, along with the above dog, he took gum and green pepper slices that he shared. If he keeps up this giving, his room will be all clean!

He was also very happy that today was Shawna’s birthday, so with Barb’s help he made her a card at Paradigm and then signed it. That made him feel so good!

Today he also wore the necklace pen that Stephanie made for him last week. He loves it!

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If you want to have your day brightened, come with me sometime when I go to pick Aaron up from Paradigm at the end of the day. Today I just sat in the van watching the “kids” – who are really young adults – get in their various vans and cars as they left for the day. Many go to group homes and so ride together. In some ways, it’s heart breaking to see the van with wheelchair accommodations lifting some of Aaron’s friends up in the van for their ride home. It could also be sad to see the various special needs of the clients as they spill out of the building and mill around in the parking lot.

But if you get beyond that, you will see big smiles…..hear laughter…..and see friendships all over the place. Finally, out the door bounded Aaron. There was Yolanda coming behind him, holding her dog leash. I soon saw that the other end of the leash was around Aaron’s wrist and he was laughing up a storm. He came to the van with Yolanda following and holding the leash, opened the door, and just burst out laughing. Yolanda was laughing, too. She’s much older than Aaron but she had youthful delight on her face. Yolanda doesn’t hear, so in her difficult-to-understand speech she told Aaron goodbye and that she would see him tomorrow. He said, “OK!” and that was it. But he was, once again, so happy. It truly warmed my heart.

I remember when Aaron first went to a special needs school here in Wichita. After a few days there, he came home and said, “Mom? I notice something about that school. All the kids there have problems. What’s my problem?”

I didn’t know what to say as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. But then I told him that he didn’t have problems. Yes, he had Epilepsy and Autism, I told him. But he didn’t have problems. He and all his friends were wonderful in their own right.

So that’s what I told myself today as I watched these amazing young adults with their limps and their unique looks and their wheelchairs and their……specialness! There are issues and there are concerns and there are so many things to think about with each one.

But each one is special and valuable. The problems they face put me to shame, but they live daily with their challenges.

I can learn a lot from them. I can learn a lot from Aaron.

As we drove away, Aaron started talking. Of course. And I listened, wondering what new thing he was about to teach me today.

The Scar

 

It’s been an interesting week.  I guess that’s one word to describe it.  Other words would apply as well.  Stressful…..demanding…..concerning…..worrying.  In case you’re wondering what I’m talking about, you can read about it in the blog I wrote.  Here’s the link:

 

 

It hasn’t just involved Aaron, though.  Yet he certainly does take center stage in our lives.  All the above descriptive words certainly can, and do, apply to him.  I’m reminded of our bad beginning to our week now every time I walk into his room and see this.

 

 

“This” being the place on his wall where a picture similar to the one hanging USED to hang.  Used to hang before he yanked it off the wall in a fit of anger on Tuesday….after fits of anger on Monday.  Anyway, read my last blog, like I said.  It explains more about what happened.

 

Now we’re left with the ugly reminder there on his wall.  A reminder of a bad day….of hurt….of anger….of events that led up to this ugly scene and this ugly spot on his wall.

 

A scar.

 

It would be easy to see this scar and to focus on the bad things that happened that day.  It would be easy to see this scar and to remember the awful feelings….the frustration….the anger…..the failures.  Both mine and Aaron’s, for sure.

 

However, there are other parts to this whole story, too.  There are other pictures that I can choose to focus upon if I just will.

 

And there it is.  It’s a matter of my will, of my choosing, as always.  I can choose to only conjure up the depressing thoughts of those two days, and of this past week generally, or I can instead choose to ponder also on the bright spots.

 

On Monday evening, after Aaron’s really bad day, he suddenly asked if he could write our friend Atha a note.  He knows Atha, and he has heard us talking about her stroke.  Aaron rarely offers on his own to write anything to anyone, unless it’s what he wanted to write on a sticky note about me on Monday.  It wasn’t nice, either.

 

So this idea of his to send Atha a get-well note in his own words was just a very special, unexpected warm moment in the midst of a terrible time for him and for us.  That made it a double blessing.  A very needed blessing, double at that!!

 

 

I can look at the scar on Aaron’s wall and I can remember this precious note.

 

Also to be remembered are the prayers of friends and family….the kindness shown when aware of our need….the time spent with friends and the encouragement of warm hugs.  There was Julie, an employee at our Dillon’s, who asked me out of the blue if I needed any more one dollar bills for Aaron.  It’s not easy to get the ones when I need them, and I had forgotten in my stress that I was running low, but Julie saw me and asked me….said she thought I might be running low….said she was looking out for me.  She has no idea, though I told her a little, of how much that meant to me this week.

 

The scar on Aaron’s wall can remind me of all those blessings.

 

And there is the recliner at Dillon’s – two recliners, actually – that Aaron sat in the first time he saw them.  They were something new.  Something fun!  But probably not something that Dillon’s wants everyone to sit in and enjoy like Aaron does.  J  So the next time we saw them, in front of the registers, each chair held a huge stuffed animal.  I laughed and told Aaron that now he couldn’t sit in them since they were already occupied.  I figured that Dillon’s had a motive for putting those animals there.

 

On Friday, Aaron and I were there after I picked him up from Paradigm.  We were ordering him his favorite Cheddar Pasta Salad when suddenly he took off walking briskly toward something.  I thought he was headed to the Chinese side of the deli.  He LOVES looking at the Chinese food, and having the workers ask him what he wants while he laughs and says he’s just looking.  Every time.  But on Friday, when I looked up to see him walking away, I soon saw where he was headed.

 

 

Yep.  He spied the recliner, moved to a new spot in the store.  The empty recliner….but not for long.  Look at his smile.  How could I not smile?

 

I see the scar on Aaron’s wall and I see the choice I have to make.  Aaron knows he did wrong and he knows he must wait for the wall to be repaired.  I don’t need to keep hammering that home to him.  But there are some issues that sometimes need hammering into my brain as I look at his scar.

 

What will I allow that scar to teach me?  What will I allow that scar to do to my heart and to my spirit?  Will I use that scar to remind me of the bad, or will I use that scar to let me remember the blessings in the midst of pain and the lessons learned in the hard times?

 

We all have them, those ugly scars of life.  We can wallow in anger and unforgiveness….regret and guilt…..pain and sadness.

 

Or we can choose to do what God said and forget those things that are behind, and press forward.  I know we can’t really forget, but we can forget in the sense of clinging on to them and letting the defeating thoughts control us.  What’s done is done.  Let God handle it as you pray and trust.

 

And as you forgive those that have hurt you, whether they know it or not.  Like Gary said on Monday night, our relationship with Aaron is much like God’s relationship with us.  It’s one of constant sin on my part and constant forgiveness on God’s part.  How can I do less?
I want my scars to be touch points for memories of God’s grace in my life, and then for me to extend that grace to others…..including….especially!….Aaron.

 

 

 

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.

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!

Lights On. Lights Off.

There is something laying on the floor of our garage right now.  It’s a baggie that contains some coins….some coins that Aaron needed to take to his day group today.  The bag is on the floor of the garage because Aaron put it there.  Well, he didn’t just put it there.  He threw the bag down on the floor.  He threw the bag down on the floor because he was angry.  He was angry because he didn’t want to go to Paradigm today.  He didn’t want to go to Paradigm today because of something that happened there on Friday.  He didn’t have to go yesterday because of a doctor appointment and then a fun day with me…..so he doesn’t want to go today, either.  Are you following me?

It’s how we have to follow Aaron.  Living with Aaron means living with autism, and living with autism means that we often follow Aaron as he goes down one trail, switches to another, and back tracks to the first one, but is soon off on a wild tangent, and off we go.  Living with Aaron and living with autism means that we must understand, as best we can, the things that Aaron can’t easily or sometimes ever express.  At times it’s a fascinating journey.  At times it’s a funny journey.  And at other times, it’s a very frustrating journey.  It’s really wild when all those emotions are mixed up into one ball.  Boy, can we bounce from one to the other!

Anyway, back to the bag of coins on our garage floor.  Aaron was awake a little after 5:00 this morning.  I heard him go to the bathroom, but he never went back to sleep.  He was in the kitchen watching me scramble Gary’s eggs well before 6:00.  He ate some sausage and I took his coffee to his room.  He came several times and stood behind my chair as I had my morning quiet time, sometimes talking and sometimes just staring.  He showered and took his pills.  And just under the current of his swirling mind, I knew what was there.  He didn’t want to go to Paradigm.  But when he saw that I was really going forward with our morning routine, like cleaning his glasses and handing him his wallet, he was not happy anymore.  On the way to the van, he turned and threw the bag of coins on the floor.  He left them there as we got into the van, and I am leaving them there for him to pick up when he comes home.  But he went to Paradigm, was met by the manager who rubbed his back and calmed him down (I hope), and hopefully will come home with happy stories.  And he will pick up the bag in the garage, because he needs to do that.  It’s a small lesson, but a lesson regardless.
 

Sometimes we don’t necessarily understand what makes Aaron do certain things, but we know that these actions are set in stone.  We are fighting a losing battle to try to change them.  Like his sausage this morning.  Aaron got his own silverware because he knew that Mom wouldn’t do it correctly.  I knew what he was thinking as he reached into the drawer and pulled out his fork but also a knife and a spoon.  Who needs a spoon for eating sausage?  Aaron does.  There’s no need to make a big deal about it or try to make him put it back.  Why make it an issue?

And the family room lights.  I don’t turn them on in the morning because we’re not sitting in there and so we don’t need the lights on, right?  But every time Aaron walks through that room, headed for the kitchen, he flips the lights on.  I flip them off at the first opportunity.  He flips them back on.  Lights on.  Lights off.

This morning he walked into the kitchen.  Lights on.

I soon took his coffee upstairs.  Lights off.

He followed behind me.  Lights on.

I came back downstairs.  Lights off.

He came behind me again.  Lights on.

I carried my own things upstairs.  Lights off.

He finished taking his pills and then came upstairs.  Lights on.

Sigh.

On the days that he is home and wants to eat lunch, he will eat only if it’s 12:00 or shortly after.  He will not eat at any time before 12:00.  Not 11:48.  Not 11:55.  Not even 11:59!!!!  And if I ask him what time he wants to eat, he replies, “At the time for lunch!”  As if Mom is a little thick headed, you know.

One day recently he said, “Mom, I’m sleepy.  I think I’ll take a nap at 12:00.”

I said, mistakenly, “Well, it’s almost 12:00 now.  You could go ahead and lay down.”

“But it’s 11:53!!!” he exclaimed.  “It’s not 12:00!”

Well, of course.  Whatever was I thinking?!

Wheel of Fortune is another one.  It starts at 6:30, so Aaron has decided that he will turn the television on at 6:28.  Again, not at 6:25 or 6:26 or even 6:27.  No.  Only….ONLY……6:28.  He will stand in front of the TV, literally staring at the clock, until it is SIX…TWENTY…..EIGHT!!!! 

It actually makes Gary and me smile. 

Movie credits.  Oh yes, movie credits.  When Aaron watches a movie in his room, he watches the entire movie.  But to Aaron, the entire movie means from the moment the DVD begins until the moment the DVD is over…..completely over.  That means watching the credits…..every single bit of the credits, until there are no more credits to watch.  He stares at them intently, too. 

 
So yesterday, after Aaron’s doctor appointment and after eating lunch at Abuelo’s, we went to see San Andreas.  He saw it at the theater on Friday, but he really wanted to see it with me.  Yesterday worked out perfectly for that.  For one reason, the theater wasn’t full at all and so I wasn’t as stressed about Aaron’s noises and rubbing his hands together when he got excited.  And this is a VERY exciting movie.  We had a good time, and when the movie was over I could tell that Aaron didn’t want to get up.  Why? 

Really?  Surely you know.  The credits!!  Aaron would have gotten up if I had insisted, but I knew that watching San Andreas in the way that mattered to Aaron meant watching it to the bitter end…..which meant to the very long, last credit.  Everyone had left the theater, and the cleaning crew stood in the back waiting on us to be finished, but Aaron and I did it.  We watched every single line of every single credit for every single miniscule part of San Andreas.  Aaron put his hands on the back of the seat in front of him, enthralled at getting to watch big screen credits all the way to the end.

 
 
This is what we often do as parents of Aaron, and as we live with autism.  I entered Aaron’s world at that moment.  It was actually funny and endearing.  We left the theater laughing, and I laughed even more when Aaron bent over as he rubbed his hands together furiously, asking the ticket taker why San Andreas was “fictinous,” as Aaron says.  The stiff, unsmiling ticket taker was rather put out at this odd situation and made some curt comment, which totally didn’t faze Aaron.  That poor guy missed out on a wonderful opportunity.

I’m learning more and more to enjoy those opportunities to enter Aaron’s mind and to follow him on his paths. I am blessed to partake of Aaron’s world on most days, but there are many times when it’s hard and frustrating.  Which brings me back to the bag on the garage floor.  Hopefully, as he picks the bag up off the floor, Aaron will talk to me about what was really bothering him.  Hopefully, he will learn that he needs to correct his own wrong actions.  Until the next time he takes off down that trail of frustration, but we’ll deal with that as well.

Lights on.

Lights off.

 

 

Spilled Water

Today Aaron had a dentist appointment to have his teeth cleaned.  He was happy about it, not because he likes having his teeth cleaned but because he knows that afterwards it means we hit the Pizza Hut buffet down the road from the dentist’s office.  Aaron and I happily walked into Pizza Hut, only to find one very busy server working hard to keep up with a rapidly filling restaurant.

We waited a long time while this poor overworked server was on the phone before she was able to break free.  She told us just to go ahead and pick a seat, but asked us first what we would like to drink.  Aaron quickly told her that he wanted water WITH lemon…..because Holly, who had just taken care of him during our trip to Houston, put lemon in her water. 

“Mom!” Aaron had said to me earlier this morning.  “Do you know what Holly puts in her water?”  Then he proceeded to tell me how Holly put lemon in her water.  “Can I put lemon in my water when we eat at Pizza Hut?” he asked.  And I told him that he could.

So when the busy server asked for our drink order before we seated ourselves, Aaron jumped on it and made sure that his water would have a piece of lemon.  When we sat down, and our waters came, Aaron said, “Holly squished her lemon and poured the juice out.  Will you do that to mine?”  So I squished his lemon and he watched me pour the lemon juice out into his water.  He was happy.

We walked over to the buffet line, where the salad in the large bowl at the salad bar was nearly gone, and there was no pizza left on the pizza side.  Poor busy server!  We were able to fix small salads…..Aaron’s with way too much dressing before I could wrangle the dressing ladle from him.  Soon we were able to get some pizza, too, and we sat there eating and chatting.

I looked up at one point to see that five Amish young women had come in and were waiting to be seated.  With them they had two small children.  They were such refreshing and lovely young women, I thought.  I watched as others stared at them, and I hoped I wasn’t doing the same.  It must be hard sometimes to always stand out as being different.  Finally they were shown to the seats right behind Aaron and me.  I pretty well knew what would happen when they walked past us. 

“Mom,” Aaron said.  “They have on hats.” 

“Yes,” I answered.  “That’s part of their religious beliefs.  And don’t stare or point.”

“I was watching her,” he continued.  “You’d say I was staring?”

Again I just cautioned Aaron not to boldly stare, so he continued eating.  Finally, we got up for one more trip to the buffet, and as Aaron was getting out of his side of the booth his arm knocked over his nearly full glass of water.  His water with all the squished out lemon juice went all over the table and down onto my side of the booth.  Thankfully I had already stood up, so I didn’t get wet.
 

Aaron apologized profusely, so I told him it was fine…..and told him not to be so loud…..and he reached his arm up to me.  I leaned down as he still sat there and he gave me a big hug.  The older man in the booth beside us stared even more than he had already been staring.  And as I turned to see what kind of mess we had, I made eye contact with one of the young Amish women.  She looked quickly away, but I knew she was watching us and probably wondering.  I knew that I felt the way she must often feel.

For the rest of our meal, I sat with Aaron on his dry side of the booth.  Our poor harried server never did make it over to clean up the mess, and that was fine.  I felt really sorry for her.  Besides, this gave Aaron and me a chance to sit close together.  He leaned his head on my shoulder, so happy that Mom wasn’t angry and that all was well.  I knew he felt so badly about what had happened, but I assured him that it was fine. 

He was very happy that I offered him my water, but I took my straw out so he wouldn’t get my cold.  He quickly grabbed his straw that was laying on the table in the mess of spilled water, ice, and soggy napkins.  He was content as he ate his pizza, not minding that the server never made it over to clean our table.  While he ate, he sang songs from Phantom of the Opera…..quietly……and he drank every drop of my water.

 
I was now facing the Amish women as I sat beside Aaron.  One of the young women that was facing me was pregnant.  I looked up at one point and our eyes met, and we both smiled at each other.  I wondered what she was thinking.  I wondered if she wondered about Aaron.  Wondered if she wondered what my life is like, just the way I wonder what her life is like. 

Aaron and I finally went up to the register to pay.  I had to run after Aaron at one point because he walked rapidly over to the buffet.  He was just ready to reach in with his bare fingers and grab some bread sticks for the road before I was able to stop him.  Oh Aaron!  You know better! 

Aaron and his messes that he makes!  In the short time that we’ve been home from Houston, we’ve had several of those messes to deal with and try to correct.  They may be physical……like me on my knees cleaning up certain spills and missed aims, if you know what I mean.  Or they may be messes created by his behaviors.

That’s why I was on the phone this morning with Bryan, one of the Paradigm staff that takes Aaron with him to work on houses.  Aaron loves working with Bryan, but on Monday Aaron had a meltdown at Paradigm and was mean to Bryan.  I wondered what Bryan would say when we talked, but he was amazing.  He really loves Aaron.   He really understands Aaron, as much as any of us can understand him.  And he knows that all he can do…..all any of us can do…..is clean up the mess and move forward.

Sometimes we have to sit in the mess awhile, like Aaron and I today in our watered down booth.  Sometimes there are no quick fixes or easy solutions.  Aaron sees the mess and the havoc it creates, but it’s important for him to know that he is still loved in the midst of it.  He is still cared for despite it all.  He felt bad about the water today, and he usually feels badly about the outbursts he has.  Yet he can’t always stop it when he’s upset, any more than he could stop the water that spilled so suddenly today. 

The damage is done, but I can still sit closely enough for him to put his head on my shoulder, and know that he is forgiven and loved.    Believe me, sometimes I want to run to another room….another house….another state!  But that’s not the solution, for Aaron or for me. 

We stay in it because we are all Aaron has.  God gave him to us for a reason, messes and all.  And we do love that big, crazy guy. 

Spilled water and all.

Headed Down Pity Path

I’ve been trying to decide how to write this blog post….or if I even should write it.  Yes, I think I should.  But how to do it in a way that doesn’t make Aaron look “bad” or make me look selfish.  Yet the truth is, Aaron isn’t bad but I am sometimes selfish.  I’m human and I get tired, but I also have to acknowledge where my roots often rest…..and that’s sometimes in soil that grows some undesirable attitudes. 

Tuesday night saw Aaron having four large seizures, so I was up four times with him.  I did sleep some between the episodes, which I often am not able to do, but still I was tired that morning.  I stayed up after Aaron’s last early seizure, and later I did the usual clean-up.  I stayed close to him as he lay on the couch for the rest of the morning, waiting to see if he had another seizure.  I had the laundry going and was able to do some other things while I sat there at the kitchen table.  I was on Psalm 18 that morning in my study time, which was perfect for me.  My favorite verse is there….verse 29.  “For by You I can run upon a troop; and by my God I can leap over a wall.” 

I felt very thankful as I sat there.  God seemed to be prompting me to focus on thankfulness.  I was thankful that Aaron was for the moment seizure free, warm, and safe.  Thankful that this wasn’t the day I was to take Nora to an important doctor appointment.  Thankful that my washing machine and dryer were just steps away, convenient and functioning.  Thankful that Aaron’s seizures aren’t far worse, as so many of our friends experience with their children.  Thankful that I don’t have to work, because it would be nearly impossible for me to do so.  Thankful for coffee.  Very thankful for coffee!

Later, Aaron woke up and he struggled to get off the couch.  After a few minutes, as he sat with me at the kitchen table, he told me that his arm was hurting.  I think he sprained it during one of the seizures.  Soon I asked him if he would want to eat, and we figured out together that some Cream of Chicken soup would hit the spot.  He was worried, though, that with his right arm hurting he would not be able to lift the soup spoon to his mouth.  Therefore, I demonstrated to him how he could eat by bending close over the bowl.  Aaron sometimes doesn’t like us to use our hands to demonstrate some action.  Don’t ask me why, but sometimes it irritates him.  So when I bent over to show him how he could eat, he snapped at me.  “You don’t have to show me how to do it by going like this….” he said with irritation as he copied my movement. 

It was as if he had thrown cold water in my face.  I knew that he was feeling terrible…..I knew that he has never liked physical demonstrations like this……I knew that his autism makes him very blunt…..but I also knew at that moment that I felt very hurt.  I just looked at him, and he knew very well that I was not happy.  I didn’t say a word, but got up and fixed his soup.  I got him all settled there at the table so he could eat, and I coldly told him that I was going upstairs to take my shower. 

For some time, my thoughts were headed down Pity Path.  How could Aaron treat me so rudely after all I’ve done for him?  It was very easy to rehash all of my sacrifices for Aaron, and very easy to nurse my hurt.  I was mostly silent toward him as the afternoon wore on around us.  He seemed to be fine, watching a movie, so I slipped down to Dillon’s to run an errand I had hoped to run that morning, but couldn’t because of Aaron’s seizures…..how I had to sit with him and didn’t get to accomplish what I wanted when I wanted……how my day was interrupted and my schedule trashed…..

See how it went with my thoughts?  Where was the thankfulness I had experienced earlier?  Where was my, “…..with God I can leap over a wall?”  I’ll tell you where it was.  It was buried under my self-centered thoughts, my tired body and mind, and my feelings of being very unappreciated by my son.  I had some major adjusting to do over the next hours, and some soul searching, as well. 

We all have many moments of feeling just as I did on Tuesday afternoon.   As a parent, spouse, sibling, friend, worker on the job, volunteer at church…..no matter where we are…..we will get our feelings hurt.  And as the mother of a special needs child who also has autism, it’s easy to be hurt a lot.  Aaron doesn’t have filters or feelings like we do.  He must be reminded over and over to be kind, to think of other’s feelings, to react in a nice way instead of a blunt or harsh way, and on and on.  He is very self-centered, and this is a huge reason why it doesn’t work if I am that way, too. 

I think it was important for me, personally, at that moment to step back and remove myself from Aaron and the situation.  The danger I faced, though, was in nursing my hurt instead of focusing on what God would do.  What I allow my thoughts to focus upon will determine my attitude, and will even determine whether I sin in the situation or grow in it.  To be hurt was normal.  To let my roots sink into the hurt as I planted myself in it would not be beneficial or right. 

Christ gave up a lot for me.  How often do I react to Him with unthankfulness or pride?  He didn’t hold on to his position as God’s Son, but emptied Himself of all that and became sin for me.  That’s the best example I can follow as I experience the hurt and the tiredness of being a special needs Mom….or any of the other many roles I have in this life.  It can’t be about me, or I will be continually frustrated.  It must be about honoring Christ, and caring for Aaron.

Understanding how Aaron feels after seizures…..understanding his autistic way of viewing the world….is very necessary, as well.  So is training him and reminding him of his actions, and how they can hurt or help others. 

Understanding how I feel after Aaron’s seizures…..understanding my sometimes selfish way of viewing the world…..is also very necessary.  Both must be recognized and dealt with before being allowed to get out of hand. 

Well, back to my verse in Psalm 18.  I didn’t exactly leap over that wall with God.  He more or less had to lift and shove me over it.  I wanted to sit at the base of the wall and lick my wounds, but He wouldn’t let me.  I’m glad for that!  Glad that He is patient and persistent with me.  Glad that He shows me His love.

Just like we have to be with Aaron.  It won’t be the last time, either.  For me or Aaron, either one. 

Still Our Sweetie Poo

I got one of those phone calls yesterday that I don’t like to receive.  It was Barb, from Paradigm, trying to tell me about an incident with Aaron.  It was hard to hear her, though, because she put it on speaker and I could hear Aaron in the background.  He was yelling as he tried to explain his story, and he was crying, and no one had to tell me that he had just had a meltdown.  My heart sank.  It’s been awhile since we’ve seen this with Aaron.  I felt drained when I got off the phone, and I wasn’t even there when Aaron lost it.  It’s just very discouraging to feel like things are going along so well, and then BAM, he hits that wall again. 

In his frustration, he broke his watch and he broke his brand new two day old glasses.  This is very typical of Aaron when he gets that upset.  He will break something that’s important to him, and then afterwards he’s just eaten up with remorse.  The remorse comes from all of his behaviors when he loses his temper, but he knows that breaking things comes with repercussions.  He won’t get a new watch right away.  He didn’t know if his new glasses could be fixed. 
 

The repercussions with people’s hearts is an area that he is not quiet adept at understanding.  He’s doing better with empathy as he’s gotten older, but he is usually very narcissistic and only thinks of himself when he is in a rage.  I guess many of us are that way when our emotions take control, but Aaron is often that way even when he is even keeled.  Thinking of others and what they are feeling has been long in coming for Aaron’s autistic mind.  He’s getting there, very slowly, sometimes more than others.  For instance, not long ago he found out that Andrea had a migraine.  The day that she and I were talking on the phone and she mentioned it, Aaron was frustrated that our phone call was taking my time away from him.  I chided him when I got off the phone about how uncaring he seemed.   The next day when she called, he said to me, “Tell Andrea I cared for her migraine!”  He was very pleased with himself that he cared, because even he knows how hard it is for him to feel that emotion, and because he felt guilty that he had not felt it at first for his sister.

He came home yesterday, face and eyes all red from crying.  He told me what had happened, so we discussed it as much as I felt that he could handle.  He lets me know when he has had enough.  Barb and I talked privately when Aaron was up in his room, and Melinda and I texted.  I felt like I had a good grasp of what had happened, although part of it was still fuzzy.  That’s why I tried to talk to Aaron again after Wheel of Fortune was over, but he did not want to talk about it further.  The book was closed, in his mind. 

I was almost asleep last night, at 11:30, when I heard our monitor on the nightstand beeping.  It meant that Aaron had turned his unit off in his room.  And it wasn’t long before our bedroom door opened and Aaron strode in to tell me that he had turned his monitor off and he had no intention of turning it back on.  There!

“Oh boy,” I thought.  “Here we go.”

Aaron has these residual effects from his behaviors…..effects that show up hours after the incident is over and hours after we have talked about it.  I followed him to his room, noticing his agitation.  He turned and told me that I was mean, that Dad was nicer, etc., etc.  I knew that my second conversation with Aaron was the cause of this, but I couldn’t take it back.  He thought I didn’t believe his version of the story….that I would make him leave Paradigm……and on and on.  And he assured me once again that he was NOT turning on his monitor.  That was the biggest sign of his rebellion that he could come up with at the moment. 

I left his room frustrated, and Aaron was frustrated, and the monitor stayed off all night.  This morning, I left Aaron alone when he got up.  Even when he stood staring at me silently, I did not speak to him.  I poured his coffee and carried it upstairs.  I got myself ready and I opened my bedroom door, and finally he walked in and told me that he was not going to Paradigm today.  I knew that was coming, so I asked him if he would go on Monday and he gave an exuberant yes. 

So many of my decisions at these times are uncertain.  Is it right to not make him go today to his group?  Do I still get him his Friday goody bag?   Was this outburst because of his new seizure drug….the one that can cause anger?  Do I take him off this drug?  Or do I wait awhile longer to give it more time? 

Well, I didn’t make Aaron go to Paradigm.  I know this is his typical response to such stressful situations, and I know that he does need time to emotionally recover and to sort it all out in his head.  His big, impulsive hug for me later showed me how thankful he was that I let him have some time and space today.  I still don’t know about the new seizure drug and what to do there, but I think I’ll give it some more time.  I think.  I did not get him his Friday goody bag.  He hasn’t even asked about it because he knows that he really messed up.  My mother heart wants to take care of him…..to blame the autism….to quote the professionals about his emotional deficits.  But I know he also needs consequences, and so the goody bag will not happen today.

I did take his glasses to the optometry shop.  “Wow!” the technician said.  “He sure did a number on them.”  I didn’t have Aaron with me because I wanted to explain what had happened, but not in front of Aaron. 

“Yes,” I agreed.  And I wanted to add, “You should see the number he’s done on my heart, and on the hearts of others.”  But of course I didn’t say that. 

By some miracle, the young man brought Aaron’s glasses back to me later, all fixed and ready for Aaron to wear again.  I wish it would be as easy to fix the situation of yesterday, but that will take more time. 

Later, Aaron and I took Jackson for a walk around our neighborhood circle.  It’s a beautiful day, perfect for a walk.  When we got home, Aaron quickly grabbed his mulch bucket and situated himself out in the flower bed for some mulch time.  He stayed there for nearly an hour, relaxing and sorting out his thoughts with each little piece of mulch that he broke.  It’s time that he needed…..quiet, peaceful, reflective time for him. 
 

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if mulch would cure autism?  Or if mulch time would give me all the patience and wisdom that I need?  I would say, “Scoot over, Aaron!  Make room for me!  Will you share your bucket?”

I know every parent of autistic children can understand how helpless I sometimes feel.  How embarrassed at my son’s behavior.  How frustrated and then sad at his response. 

Then I think of Barb, who loves Aaron and who said, “Tomorrow’s a new day.  We’ll just put this behind us and go forward.”

And Melinda, who also loves Aaron, and who said, “Aaron informed me that I am NOT his sweetie poo anymore!  Well, he is still my sweetie poo.”

That makes me smile, and it makes me thankful for those that work with Aaron and love him even on the bad days.

We will, and we do, move forward.  Today Aaron said, “Mom, I’ll turn my monitor on tonight.”  It’s his way of telling me that he’s better now, and that he is ok with me…..mean old Mom of last night. 

Yep, it’s a new day and we will go forward.  And I just hope Aaron knows how many people cared for him when he messed up.

He’s still our sweetie poo!