These are the thoughts of a cantankerous ol' gynecologist who remembers when things were a little different. I try to find a little humor in my life and the people I meet along the way. Come meet the characters in my world.

Friday, September 9, 2011

There’s a Fist Fight in the Back Seat of My Car

I have an autistic child and am just fed up!

One weekend my autistic son, Mr. Impatient, lost something that was very important to him. (The memory cards to his Play Station). We all looked everywhere. I spent a couple of hours searching his room, as did both of his brothers, with no luck. He became progressively more agitated. We knew they were somewhere in the house. I did not want to purchase new ones due to cost and to teach him responsibility.

I had tried every technique that I knew to calm him down, and had finally promised that we would go Monday after school and purchase new cards, since we had spent two days looking for the old ones. (Which, BTW, were found two hours after the new ones were purchased.)

Monday morning, on the way to school, he continued to perseverate about this. Finally, he turned to his brother, Three Speed, and socked him in the face, causing a nose bleed. This occurred just as we turned into the school parking lot. Three Speed retaliated. Fist fight in the back seat. Note that boys are 16, each well over 200 pounds and over 5 foot 10”.

We so very rarely have physical interactions like this. Usually I can see the "mad face" and can head him off at the pass. We had been dealing with this all weekend, and I had promised to buy new memory cards after school.

I can't see their faces when I am driving. If I had thought he was going to go ballistic, I would have put him in the front seat. He can't hurt the others when he is seat belted in the front seat. And he won't hurt me.

Do you have days when you are just fed up with your kids? I wanted to just run away!  I didn’t, but I cried all the way to the office.

I know I'm not a failure, but some days......

Most days are soooo much better. This was just a really, really bad one.

We have all learned coping and redirecting techniques over the years. I just really missed on this one. And usually the fist fights don't happen in the back seat. I usually don't drive up to school with a kid with a nosebleed.

Just sometimes I hate autism.  It bites that we have to live with it.

Not that I don't love them. I really, really do. But it's lots and lots of work. It’s much more work than I ever thought it would be. 

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