November 9, 2010

Losing control

I've lost control of my house. Toys are everywhere. Moe's favorite activity of late is to take every single book in his bookshelf and throw them on the floor. He looks at them, paging through his favorites, but most of them just end up on the floor in his room. Jelly has been enjoying dumping out the lego bin. She then puts the box on her head and walks around the house shouting "hat!" Every night (and often multiple times a day) I go room to room, picking up the same books and toys over and over.

Yesterday, Moe figured out how to take off his pants by himself. It is a great skill to have for dressing and potty-readiness. But since he is also is able to take off his diaper, I looked up to find Moe streaking down the hallway. I warned his teachers of his new "skill." I can only imagine Moe stripping down and running around the classroom. It's probably happened before.

The time change has been a rough transition, but that aside, we seem to have gotten a little bit more control over Moe's sleep routine. He's been sleeping through most nights, which has been great. Unfortunately, Moe has been getting very upset right before falling asleep and when waking up in the morning. He cries uncontrollably, and nothing we can do seems to help him. We're working on theories: overtired? wet diaper? hungry? But we haven't found the exact triggers, or any ways to calm him. The meltdowns usually last about an hour.

This is the worst part of having an autistic child. I cannot function when Moe is so upset, but I have no idea how to help him. We talk to behaviorists and OTs, doctors and teachers, but at the end of the day, no one really knows why he's so upset. Moe needs to learn to work it out or communicate what he needs to feel better. In those moments, I just want someone to be able to tell me what to do. But there is no one. So Jeff and I talk and think, tinker with schedules and soothing techniques, but mostly we just wait for it to pass.

1 comment:

  1. It gets better, my love. Which doesn't help you now, really, at all. The only way out being through totally applies.

    My son now only drops his pants when inside the public restrooms, not in the middle of any given department store. He stopped peeing out the windows of the house and the car (please don't ask or judge; I swear he is always buckled in when we start out).

    He also stopped fondling bras in the Intimate Apparel section while making the boobie sound (the sound he made when delighted with breastfeeding), and trying to grab strange women's breasts at the swimming pool.

    There is a light at the end of the naked tunnel.


I love comments! Respectful disagreement always encouraged.


Related Posts with Thumbnails