Mean Reds. . .just like the blues only worse

This is ME today. Yes, it is!!

Today is an I Hate day. I try not to have too many of them. Somedays it gets overwhelming and you either vent or cry. I hate to cry.  Let's add that to my pity party.

You know what gets me?

Hearing my little girl fall down the steps because her legs got so weak she simply couldn't keep up and then the bang as her head thudded on the floor, watching the whole side of her face swell and redden from it-- let me tell you that is fear. That is anxiety, stress, and want to cry right along with her flippin fear.  She's fine by the way. Thank God for hard heads and carpeted steps.

Watching her temper tantrum because she can't pronounce a word even though she could pronounce it yesterday, this morning,  or even a minute ago. Watching her struggle to find a replacement word.
Or watching her refuse to speak or to try because she knows its a bad speech day.

Watching her run to the nearest trash can or toilet bowl to regurgitate or choke on food because of the low muscle tone. All her quirky anxiety and sensory needs which make it hard for her to fit in with her classmates. That is flipping Apraxia and Hypotonia.  You wouldn't know her struggles unless you lived with her. Most days she's this silly, quirky, social, happy, and determined little girl. But I know her struggles, I watch them all. It hurts my heart so much to see that struggle. And so somedays when she's mastered a pronunciation or running through the playground, I may cry even as she giggles. Because I have been there during all those struggles.


I worry about my son. Will he be able to live independently, will he find his "place", will he be able to "cope" . . .currently he can't dress himself. I'll find him humming in his bedroom, building legos, buck naked because he's become so distracted that he's forgot to finish dressing. He needs constant prompting and reminders. If the routine changes, as it has this week, he'll struggle behaviorally. He'll hit, throw, yell at the tss, at me, the teacher over some minor thing because the schedule change has him so overwhelmed. Somedays its sensory, other days its anxiety, some days its not wanting to do a non preferred activity. And other days I have no idea why.  Today I picked him up and he was already triggered, upset over something silly. I had to remind him to take deep breaths, to use his words, to calm down. A promise of an afternoon with the ipad while my poor girls trailed after us close enough that I could grab them if I needed too but far enough away for safety should he begin to hit or throw. We walked to school even though it was pouring rain because the change from being a walker to riding the car loop sometimes sends him into meltdown. So we walked, even though curb side pickup would've made more sense today. On Sunday he had a meltdown at Target with my husband. Over playdoh. He was so fixated on getting playdoh that he went into meltdown mode.  I can just picture him kicking, screaming, throwing, as my husband carried him to the car.  Been there dear Hubby, lots and lots. Yes, that is our reality. And my worry is will he ever be prompt free? Will he be okay without his aide?  Who knows. Will it ever be painfree for him to transition from a preferred to non preferred?  Who knows. F you Autism. F you anxiety. This is "high functioning autism" and yes I want to make it better fo rmy kid. Who the hell wouldn't?

I know things could be worse, I know it'll be okay. I don't need comforting or a band aid to sooth it away. Today I just need to vent. Today I'm feeling sorry for my kids. I'll be fine. And so will the kids. And now I must run because dinner is late and I've got an hour before hubby is home to put this house back into shape. . .