It has been a rough week in the world of autism at the Richardson’s…
~ PICA reared its ugly head again… I do not comprehend how my daughter can eat foam off of the underside of the mini-trampoline, yet refuse to eat the wholesome yummy food I loving create for the family. (Although, I know this isn’t a logical quest meant to understand… Pica isn’t rational.) But, not only foam; toilet paper, foil, string… yak!! The thought makes me cringe. I try to focus in those moments that this is not a conscious decision… it is part of the autism.
~ She is still obsessed with fire. We have thrown away every candle in the house… but it is not like we can just curb the gas stove. I have looked at locks and nothing seems Sahara-proof. I wonder what the fascination is with the fire. …The cause and effect? …The beautiful flicker? …The control? Perhaps all of it… Regardless, the lingering smell in the house is haunting!!! The innocent, “nothinnnnng” is undeniably infuriating… The fear is grasping!! I acknowledge I may never sleep again…
~ With young girls in the house, I have an open door bathroom policy. I view it as a natural way to educate them about proper feminine hygiene and the like. Well… until I found Sahara this week… with a tampon and trying to insert it up her rear-end. (Did I state that gently enough?) Realizing she thinks there are only 2 exits down there; how do you explain the 3rd to an autistic child with communication delays? Needless to say the tampons have been locked down with the other random items of mischief. But, I am still left standing… wondering… pondering… how do I teach her about the birds n the bees and body changes?
~ Which leads us to the next event of the week… usually when Sahara is too quiet… we worry!! When I went up stairs to check on her, the bathroom door slammed. Once I got in the room, I was horrified to find she had climbed the linen closet (top shelf) to get down a razor… well, it could have been worse. (I remember my niece’s first blood ridden trial shave vividly!) But, luckily Sahara was just left with razor burned arm pits (which really is bad enough)!! So, yes, now the razors are residing with the tampons under lock and key.
~ The ultimate meltdown this week was exacerbated by tears… yup, her own tears compounded her meltdown. She has major sensory issues around getting wet… and her tears during her melt down flew her into a whirlwind of emotions and physical pain. Moments like these break my heart. I try my best to stay composed and support her patiently… but the helpless feelings can even swallow the calmest person.
Speaking of broken hearts…. Its Valentine’s Day weekend.
We typically do not celebrate Valentine’s Day… in fact; I have dubbed it a “Hallmark Day”. You can read HERE how last year I was pleased to get nothing for Valentine’s Day… as my hubby shows me daily in small intimate moments nestled between motherhood & autism how much he loves me.
However, Friday night we had a minor rare spat... when these happen, they usually happen just before bedtime when we are both exhausted from the emotional and physical adventures of the day. Well, that evening was no different… I happened to have a menstrual headache and recovering from a fever, plus I knew I had to be up at 5 AM to go to an important meeting… it was midnight and the kids were still up…
Sahara was running up and down the hall scripting! She then said she was hungry and ran downstairs. Well, because of the fire hazard, she is not allowed in the kitchen by herself… but I didn’t have the strength to get up… I just wanted to melt into my bed. Emily yelled to her father in the other room, “Daaaaad, she’s going downstairs.” He slammed the wall with his palm; it shocked me… which caused me to verbally react, “Did you really just smack the wall? Don’t do that!” I heard him huff only more… we are both exhausted… ready to collapse, but we know we can’t until Sahara is sound asleep…. I snap at him to forget it… he needs to remove himself and I will take care of it… Emily is upset; Sahara is stimming even more… I am fighting tears of anger back… anger at what… not him, not her… but just that our lives aren’t supposed to be like this… I am pissed that I don’t have my white fucking picket fence!! I want to scream… “Where’s my fucking fence!?!?!”
Soon after this, I hear Emily and Dad’s heavy rhythmic breathing... they are asleep. Sahara stays in bed for the rest of the night, but it takes another hour or so to get her settle into sleep. All is still… the alarm is going to go off in 4 hours… and I am laying there listening to the silence of the night… talking with God in the moonlight about this stupid fence in my illogical fantasies.
Later the next morning… my arm hurts… my left arm. I am walking through Walmart… trying to breathe in my nose, out my mouth… chest pains too… breathe in, breath out. I use cognitive thoughts to get me through the store… but inside I am really thinking about my Mom what has vascular disease (she had her leg amputated as a result last spring and had numerous heart attacks over the previous year… but I know it can’t be my heart because soon after her amputation, I went to our family doctor and had a complete exam to rule out diabetes and heart disease… he said I was healthy. His only advice… lose weight. What about the chest pains I get, “Susan, you’ve had them for 5 years.. it is most likely anxiety.” I actually try to tell him I have no stress… have to laugh… did you read the first part of this blog & I try to tell the doctor I have no stress.)
As the day went on, I was sure I was having a heart attack or stroke… but kept saying, ‘well it has been 3 hours, 6 hours, 8 hours, 12 hours… surely if I was having one it would have happened already’. I go take a shower to loosen up my muscles… it works until I step out and see Sahara sitting on the floor surrounded by my raw organic almonds… one in which she is attempting to put up her rectum. Hubby gives her a disgusted look and I call him on it, he looks at me and for the first time ever utters the words… “I HATE AUTISM!!” This is a paramount moment…
Part of me is relieved… I am not the only one. How liberating for him to say it. How healing for us to be in this raw moment together… how therapeutic to acknowledge that it isn’t the child we are frustrated and exhausted from… but autism.
Emily is oblivious to my heavy heart of the day and is planning out a perfect Valentine’s Dance… she has planned out the food, drinks, dancing and presents. It comes together perfectly… Sahara opens her own presents and is excited about them. Hubby dresses up in a suit and tie and sweeps Emily off her feet in a waltz-like dance… the smile of her face… priceless… I am certain it is a moment she will embed in her memory forever… a perfect family moment. A perfect family!!
When I lay down, I realize the pain in my arm all day was from Sahara’s head when she sleeps… I know this because when she laid there again to nuzzle… I felt the muscle screech in pain. I lay there thinking about how silly I was all day thinking I was having a heart attack, when in fact I was having an attack of the heart… My heart yearns for moments of normalcy for my children, for my husband, and selfishly for myself.
I laid there wondering how many other mothers feel like I do… recognizing the inherent beauty in her children and family, and yet raw emotion sneaks in intermittently to get the best of her.
…Today I feel better, more aware of my limitations, my strengths, my hopes and dreams. Today I feel ready to create a new picket fence… but this one isn’t all white and rigid… perhaps it is colored appropriately with all of the colors of the spectrum and full of groves & curves.
… And more importantly, today I feel ready to empower other mothers who may not have the inner-resources I have to pull myself out of the funk so easily.
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