Friday, August 21, 2015

Please Make It Stop.



Logan and his little sister are sitting on the couch.  He is an unwilling participant in whatever game they are playing, which involves a burrito and a stegosaurus.  Every time he tries to get up, Abby yells at him, so he sits back down and plays some more.

I am not interfering.

I am not interfering because the whole day, Logan has been stimming, sticking his face in my face, asking when school is going to start, yelling when I tell him it doesn't start until Monday, getting upset when I tell him we have a Saturday and a church day before school, screeching, grabbing my arms, pulling on me, climbing on me, and picking on his bug bites until he has picked himself bloody.

He's a mess, and I am weary.  A few years ago, this sort of behavior reduced me to tears, because it is constant and does not let up.  It's born out of anxiety on his part and an inability to control his emotions or make reasonable judgment or deduction based on information.  He does not know how to assume anything.  He does not understand that once mom says it will be a certain way, then that's the way it is, because he is too anxious for that.  He requires constant reassurance.

Now it's just an annoyance.  This is not meant as a criticism of Logan.  It's the truth, though.  The screaming and the stimming and the constant pulling on mom is annoying.  We all deal with it in some form.  We love our kids.  We don't love the behavior.

This is what a lot of spectrum parents (this is what I call us...those of us with children on the spectrum.  We are parents of children with autism.) have to put up with.  This particular school district does not allow its autistic children to enroll in summer school unless they have started losing skills that have been taught during the year.  What the school doesn't understand is the havoc that this wreaks on our lives.  Our children thrive on order.  They love rigid schedules, because then they know what to expect.  It minimizes their confusion and anxiety to live this way.  When the school year ends, that ends as well.  It's impossible for a family with autistic and "mainstream" children to maintain that type of order and rigidity during the summer.  So every summer for about two weeks, we go through a dreaded "adjustment phase" when Logan has to get used to the fact that there is no class at 8am, no PE, no teachers, and no cafeteria (one of his favorite places).  At the end of summer, we go through it again, when he anticipates starting school again.  He battles a mixture of excitement and fear, because it has become an unknown during the summer.  Will he have the same teacher?  Will his friends be there?  What will he do?  Where will he go?  These are mundane questions for us adults and for children who aren't in a special education program.  For Logan, and for many children like him, these are all-consuming questions.

Especially this year, because he is transitioning to middle school.  He's excited.  I took him there to tour the school and he loved it...he wanted to see everything.  At the same time he also said that he wanted to go home.  

How do you battle such a maelstrom of emotion?  It's difficult for an adult to sort through conflicting feelings.  I wonder how it must feel for someone with sensory issues who doesn't adjust to change very well.  

There are some people who have come to me and said, I could never do what you do.  But the truth is that that's a load of crap.  You do what you have to do because it's your child.  



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