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James, Trains And Automobiles

April 8, 2011 By

From the time he was a baby, James loved trains. Loved, loved, loved them. In fact, potty-training him turned out to be quite an expensive endeavour, because his rewards were trains. Not just any trains – they had to be Thomas the Train trains. I suspect that James drew out his potty-training for long enough to collect most of the Thomas the Train characters. He even got a Sir Topham Hat (who, if I’m to be honest, creeps me out just a little – I mean, he looks like an adult baby, reminiscent of Dr. Evil in the Austin Powers movie).

Then, about two years ago, James was given a DVD of the movie Cars, and just like that, the trains became second-class citizens in his toybox. Now it was all about Lightning McQueen, Mater, Doc Hudson, and all the rest of them. No creepy human characters in this lot – the Cars cars inhabit a world consisting solely of cars, trucks, and helicopters.

The movie is actually quite cool. It has a bit of everything: action, suspense, comedy, and a moral message. It even has those essential elements: a car chase and a love interest.

Since he first saw the movie, James has built up a staggering collection of Cars stuff. He has more Lightning McQueens than I could possibly count, as well as at least one of all of the other characters. He’s got race tracks, ramps, tipping tractors (tractor-tipping is like cow-tipping – don’t even ask), and several Radiator Springs buildings. He has a Firetruck Mater, Monster Truck Mater, Bulldozer Fighter Mater, and some good old plain Maters. His toothbrush, shoes, and backpack all feature Lightning McQueen. He’s got books, puzzles, and the Mater’s Tall Tales DVD.

Our household has probably singlehandedly kept the Disney Cars industry alive.

And now a sequel to Cars is coming out soon. In this one, Lightning McQueen competes in an international Grand Prix, and Mater gets sucked into an espionage situation (to get an idea of the incongruity of this, picture Mr. Bean trying to be James Bond).

James is dead-keen to see the movie, and not on some lame-ass TV screen. He wants the real-deal, big-screen movie theatre. And that is why his very first trip to the cinema is in his very near future.

Today, some exciting news came my way. News that will make James a very happy little boy indeed. This weekend, Lightning McQueen and Mater are in Toronto. They will be setting up camp in one of the larger shopping malls, and making themselves available for their adoring fans.

It is going to be crowded. There will be hundreds of screaming kids running around like lunatics, and hundreds of sobbing parents running after them, trying to contain them. Do I really want to put myself through that kind of stress?

Damned right I do. Seeing the look of joy on my child’s face as he beholds his Cars heroes will make it all worthwhile.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/beaub/5159613205)

Filed Under: Children, Disney Cars, Movies, Toys Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
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Things That Go Boing In the Night

March 4, 2011 By

This morning I was once again lamenting the difficulty I am having with my running these days. I had planned to get up early to go running – an actual run on the road, instead of that pesky treadmill – but because my beautiful, quirky child with autism has an autism-related sleep disorder, he woke up at three in the morning to jump on the trampoline in the living room.

I had migrated to the couch in the middle of the night, having been ousted from my bed by James, who sleeps like a starfish and pokes knees and elbows everywhere. So what this meant was that I was woken at three this morning by the sound of “boing boing boing” coming from about four feet away from my left ear.

I couldn’t go running. Not that I had any hope whatsoever of going back to sleep, but going running would have involved leaving the kids with Gerard. Leaving sleeping kids with a sleeping Dad is OK. Leaving wide-awake, ricocheting-off-the-walls kids with a sleeping Dad is not a good idea. I would have come back from my run to find Gerard bound to a totem pole with rope, with the kids running around him in circles waving sticks.

It doesn’t matter that we don’t own a totem pole. The kids are resourceful. They would have found one or made one.

As I got ready for work in a haze of exhaustion, I stared wistfully at my pile of running clothes and wondered if I would ever get to go running again. I started freaking out a little. My next race is just under a month from now, and I have a half-marathon coming up at the end of May. I have not been running long distances for a couple of months now, and I need to start training in earnest.

I want to look strong and sexy when I pass the half-marathon water station manned by shirtless firefighters. I don’t want to look as if I’m about to explode. I mean, c’mon. I know I’ll be a lawfully married woman by then, but shirtless firefighters are shirtless firefighters.

When I stopped to think about the recent dearth of road running, I took heart simply by comparing myself to the state I was in this time last year. I was in the midst of being treated for a bundle of pinched nerves and I had bronchitis. Whereas this year I have actually been running – albeit on the treadmill – on a fairly regular basis, last year I was not able to run at all from late December until late March. And I still managed to put in a fairly decent showing at a half-marathon at the end of May.

So I’m thinking I’ll be fine. I’m in reasonably good shape, better than I was this time last year.

And even when the running is difficult, all I have to do is think about why I’m doing it and who I’m doing it for.

Filed Under: Children, running Tagged With: , , , , , , ,
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Another World

February 25, 2011 By

My son James, who is all of five years old, has a wonderful imagination. When he’s lying in bed at night, after the lights have been turned off, I lie down beside him and as he snuggles up against me, he and I come up with bedtime stories. Well, James comes up with the basic plot, and I just turn said plot into a coherent tale.

Here is last night’s story:

Once upon a time, there was a little boy whose name was James. James was a very good boy who loved his family, did a great job putting his toys away at the end of the day, and gave lots of hugs to his big brother George.

And so one day a giant magic toucan came to see James. The magic toucan said, “James, you have been a very good boy. You ate all your dinner and put your toys away, and you’ve been super-nice to your brother. And so I am going to take you on a special trip.”

James climbed onto the toucan’s back, and the toucan took off and started flying. Together, James and the toucan flew over the fields and oceans, going higher and higher into the sky. They went so high that they went all the way into space. But James was not afraid. The toucan was a magic toucan and he would keep James safe.

After flying for a long time, James and the magic toucan landed gently on another world. It was a planet of brilliant green grass that was soft to walk on, white beaches where the sand wasn’t too hot, and blue, blue seas. There were beautiful flowers and many, many butterflies of all colours. Even though it was daytime on this world, when James looked at the sky he would see twinkling stars that looked like diamonds, and far, far away, he could see the Earth that he had just come from.

On the grass there was a picnic table made of gold, and on the table there were all of James’ favourite foods. There was pizza, and sandwiches, and chicken nuggets, and fruit, and ice cream. There was apple juice, milk and hot chocolate.

As James looked at the picnic table, he heard the sound of children laughing, and then he saw his friends running towards him. James and his friends sat down at the table and ate the delicious food, and drank the delicious drinks. As they ate and drank, they talked and laughed and had a great time together.

When the meal was done, James and his friends went to play on the beach. They frolicked in the water and built magnificent sand castles. They ran around, playing tag and having races.

All the time, the magic toucan was there, making sure the children were safe and having a good time.

Eventually, it was time for James to go home. He said goodbye to his friends, and then the magic toucan took James around the corner, where James saw the biggest slide he had ever seen. The slide had walls going all the way around, and little windows in the walls.

James climbed into the entrance of the slide, counted to three, and off he went! Down, down, down the slide went, turning this way and that. James had a fantastic time on the slide, and he looked out of the little windows as he went down. The slide went all the way back down through space, and ended – in James’ bedroom!

When James came out of the bottom of the slide, he landed right in his bed, and his Mommy was there to put the blankets over him and tuck him in. James was so tired from his adventures, and he drifted off to sleep and had beautiful dreams about all of the wonderful things he had seen and done.

The end.

Filed Under: Children, Imagination Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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The Weird World Of Children’s TV

February 21, 2011 By

Today is a statutory holiday in Ontario. A few years ago people started whining about the dearth of holidays between Christmas and Easter. We need something to break up the long, crappy winters, they said. The Ontario government agreed, and so Family Day was born, to be observed on the third Monday of every February.

I never really thought the lack of holidays was much of a big deal, but I’m certainly not going to complain about an extra day off. What it means, though, is that I get a day of riveting TV viewing that includes the likes of Thomas the Train and Roary the Racing Car.

Don’t judge. By the time Monday rolls around, I’ve spent an entire weekend being run ragged by two kids who make the Energizer Bunny look like a lazy slob. On holiday Mondays I feel entitled to be more lax in my restrictions of the kids’ TV viewing.

Anyway, as I sit here listening to an inane song that repeats the phrase I’m the map about seventeen million times, I feel compelled to make the following observation: In order to make a successful children’s TV show, you have to be high on crack.

I mean, seriously. It’s the only explanation I can think of for some of the stuff I see on Treehouse Channel and TVO Kids. Take the episode of Dora that was on yesterday, for instance. It featured these Super Babies who had supersonic hearing and X-ray vision, and they floated down a river on a raft helping Dora and Boots find the clues. The Super Babies were Super Creepy. They wouldn’t look out of place in a scary horror movie.

Here are some children’s TV shows that make me scratch my head and go, “Huh???”

  • Barney the Dinosaur. Otherwise known as “most annoying children’s character ever created”. I don’t allow Barney in any shape or form in my house, simply because if I did, my head would explode. It’s a matter of self-preservation. It’s the the combination of the goody-two-shoes kids, the shade of purple, and that annoying voice that makes my ears bleed.
  • Blues Clues. Rumour has it that Steve, the original host of Blues Clues, developed a serious drug problem and had a nervous breakdown. Who can blame the poor bastard? He spent his time in a two-dimensional psychedelic world hanging out with furniture and salt shakers that could talk to him, and a manic blue dog that couldn’t so much as say Woof.
  • Harry And His Bucket Full Of Dinosaurs. OK, let me get this straight. A normal-sized six-year-old boy can somehow fit his entire body into a normal-sized bucket. The bucket turns into a place called “Dino World” and the toy dinosaurs come to life and grow to full dinosaur size. When Harry is in his bucket talking to his dinosaurs, I wonder if his mother knows where he is.
  • Max And Ruby. Otherwise known as “second most annoying children’s characters ever created”. Max is a little rabbit, maybe four years old. His primary caregiver is his sister Ruby, who is maybe eight. She is solely responsible for feeding him, bathing him, putting him to bed, and so on. The parents are nowhere in the picture, although there’s a grandma who shows up from time to time. My theory, based on the fact that Max has very poor verbal skills and yet has very unique thought processes that end up solving whatever problem the pair are presented with, is that Max has autism. Mom and Dad couldn’t handle the responsibilities of special needs parenting and ran away to Mexico. Ruby was forced into guardianship of her little brother, and Grandma periodically checks on them to make sure they have clean clothes and nutritious food.
  • Backyardigans.  I don’t have a problem with the adventures these kids go on. The show is set up in such a way that you can tell they are engaging in really creative imaginative play, right in their back yards. It’s kind of nice, actually. A group of kids who live on the same street, playing together and being best friends. It’s just that – well, have you seen what they look like? What exactly are they supposed to be ?
  • Toopy and Binoo. Gigantic mouse who never stops talking and is clearly addicted to happy meds. Miniature stuffed cat (you can even see the seam where it’s been patched up) who cannot talk but can walk and nod its head, and has the biggest village idiot grin you ever saw. Enough said.

And we expect our kids to grow up normal.

Filed Under: Children, entertainment Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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Sick Child, Sleepless Night

February 8, 2011 By

When you receive a call from your child’s daycare that includes the words “vomiting” and “diarrhea”, you know your day is about to take a nosedive.

Yesterday morning, I arrived at work and went straight into a meeting without even going to my desk first. After the meeting, I returned to my desk and saw the message light on my phone blinking. Three new messages. All of them from James’ daycare teacher, asking begging for someone to pick him up and take him home.

This was a problem for me, since I was sitting in my office at work, more than an hour away by public transit. I called my mother-in-law, who is listed on James’ paperwork as a designated pick-up person. She didn’t answer her phone. I called Gerard, whose place of business is ten minutes’ drive away. He didn’t answer his phone. For about twenty minutes, I was frantically calling the two numbers in turn, picturing my poor child huddled over miserably at the daycare. In the end, my mother-in-law picked him up, and took care of him for the day until Gerard and I were able to get home.

During the night, things got really rough. Right before bedtime, James twisted around to throw up again, into the plastic basin that he had placed beside him. As he twisted, he dinged his knee very hard on the metal frame of the futon he was lying on. All of a sudden, his knee was as much of a problem (although a less messy one) than the fact that he was sick.

He was crying because his stomach was hurting. He was crying because his knee was hurting. He was crying because he felt bad about messing up his clothes. He was crying because he was hurting with thirst and couldn’t keep anything down.

My poor baby.

I lay down with him and tried to sleep.

That didn’t work out too well. During the night, there were two episodes of vomiting and one of diarrhea, along with many, many cries of pain because of the sore knee. I iced and bandaged the knee, and that seemed to help. I dressed James in clean pyjamas, and that made him feel better. I gave him sips of flat Coke, and he managed to keep that down.

Finally my boy went to sleep.

I did not. By now my mind was racing a million miles a minute. I was thinking of anything and everything. Rest was out of the question. Finally, at around 6:00 a.m., I fell into a fitful sleep, only to be woken up half an hour later.

Going to work today was out of the question. James, while a lot better, needs to be at home, and he needs his Mommy with him. Meanwhile, Mommy’s brain is in a complete fog. I tried to do some work from home, but in the end, I decided to take the day off. Work in any reasonable form was just not going to happen today.

On the bright side, we have had about seven hours now with no throwing up, and about five hours with no diarrhea.

Things are looking up.

Filed Under: Children, Illness, parenting Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
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Toy Story: The Autism Family Version

February 4, 2011 By

Last night, my younger son James bravely waded through the treacherous sea of toys in our living room. When he reached the corner he started digging in toyboxes and didn’t stop until he had unearthed this car ramp toy. You use this toy by driving your toy car into this little elevator, which you then raise up until the car is on the flat roof. You can then push the car around on the roof, or send it rolling down one of the two ramps. For a kid obsessed with Lightning McQueen and Doc Hudson (raise your hand if you recognize the references) this toy is like a slice of heaven.

James took the toy to an unoccupied space on the living room floor (i.e. a spot where he wasn’t knee-deep in other toys) and started playing with it. He was having a wonderful time. Lightning and Doc were racing down the ramps, Mater was driving backwards on the roof, and the Dinoco helicopter was flying overhead. It was all very exciting.

The peace was shattered when George came into the room and saw that the toy had been moved. George doesn’t like it when things are moved. He gets anxious, he starts shrieking and insisting that the item be put back. And so all hell broke loose.

George was grabbing at James’ toy, I was grabbing at George and telling him that James has to be allowed to move his own things around, and poor James was crying because of the sudden chaos. My husband succeeded in arm-wrestling George to a different room, where he tried to engage him in distracting activities. I stayed with James and played with him, but the sparkle had gone. James played half-heartedly while listening to George’s cries coming from a different part of the house.

James gave up on his play and said to me, “Mommy, George can put the toy back if he wants. I love him and I don’t want him to be sad.” He ran out of the room and relayed the message to his Dad. Gerard brought George back in, and George put the toy back in its place with James watching. James kept on telling me that this was what he wanted, but he wasn’t fooling me. I could see the sadness and disappointment in his eyes.

How amazing is this child? Despite my best efforts to equalize things, James does on numerous occasions get the short end of the stick because of George’s autism. And yet he is so brave, so giving and caring. He shows a maturity and wisdom that, while touching me to my very soul, makes me feel really sad. Not to mention the fact that it makes me explode with pride at the caring, sharing person my child is growing up to be.

He’s only five, but in some ways he misses out on being like a regular five-year-old. I want James to be able to play with his toys. I want him to be able to race his cars down that ramp, and I want George to be OK and anxiety-free about it.

I want both of my boys to be happy, and I find it so hard sometimes when one of them is happy at the expense of the other one.

What a tricky balancing act.

Filed Under: Children, Play Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
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Being Sick Is Crap

January 26, 2011 By

I have a confession to make: I’m not a nice sick person.  Some people take being sick in their stride.  They get their blankets and their cups of tea, and they curl up on the couch and enjoy the opportunity to watch a bit of guilt-free television.  I turn into a pathetic cry-baby and start whining about the fact that I can’t go for a run.

I have a thing about needing control over my body, and in this respect I’m probably no different from anyone else.   Where I might differ, however, is in the level of anxiety I feel when my body lets me down.  I don’t like the fact that I am always overwhelmed by all of the stuff I have to do on a daily basis, but I need to know that I can.  If I am not able to get up in the morning, go for a run, go to work, and do everything associated with parenting my kids, I get very stressed and anxious, almost afraid.  I don’t like the feeling of being physically weak and unable to do things.

So when I suddenly started feeling ill yesterday I was not pleased.  What started as a sore throat yesterday afternoon progressed into a full-blown cold by bedtime.  The kind of cold that comes complete with aches and pains, and ice-cold chills.  I was lying on the couch watching TV with Gerard last night, wearing about four layers and with three blankets piled on top of me.  By the time I woke up this morning, my voice was a thing of the past and both of the kids had a cold as well.

I had to stay home today.  Not only to be with the kids, but to try and rest a little and shake the cold myself.

The chaos started when James appeared by my side at about 11:00 a.m. telling me that he had made a swimming pool.  When I went to investigate I found that there was indeed a swimming pool – right in the middle of my mattress.

An hour later, James told me that he had made a water factory on his Dad’s desk.  Against my better judgment, I went to take a look: there were several bowls on the desk, precariously balanced and filled to the brim with water.

Later in the day, the two kids worked in collaboration to empty a dump-truck full of water all over the living room floor.

Dear Lord in heaven…

There was the upended stationery drawer, the melted Popsicle on the bedroom floor, the melted Popsicle on the couch, and the milk spilled in the kitchen.

Is it any wonder I don’t like being sick?  Look what happens!

I am exhausted, and mysteriously feeling well enough to go to work tomorrow.

Filed Under: Children, Illness, postaday2011 Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
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Photographic Retrospective

January 25, 2011 By

Do you remember the days when we used to take pictures with cameras that required film?  When all 34 pictures on the film had been used up we would take it to the drugstore for processing and pick it up three days later (eventually, drugstores got their own in-store processing equipment and the concept of “one hour pictures” was born).  We would go home and look at the pictures, only six of which were any good, and we would throw them into a cardboard box already containing seventeen thousand other pictures.  Every time we put the box back in the closet we would say to ourselves, “I must buy albums and get these photos organized”, but we would know that the pictures wouldn’t be looked at for at least six years, when the bottom of the box would collapse and all of the pictures would fall onto the ground.

Things are so much easier now.  We just take the picture, plug either the camera or the SD card into a slot on the computer, and ten seconds later the pictures are there for our viewing pleasure.  We print the ones we want to print.  Mostly, though, we make desktop backgrounds out of them, upload them to Facebook, and email them to friends and family.  There are no pesky films that cost a fortune and get all screwed up if you open the camera at the wrong time, no dusty old cardboard boxes that take up space, and no pictures lying around that we cannot bring ourselves to throw out even though the top of the subject’s head is cut off and the red-eye makes everyone look like minions of Satan.

The thing is, we look at the pictures.  If we don’t like them, we can edit them, remove the red-eye, fix up the lighting.  And if we really don’t like them, we just hit the Delete button.  Easy-peasy.  The point is, we end up with pictures that we actually like and enjoy looking at.

And that’s what I was doing earlier today.  I was looking at pictures of my kids from when they were a lot younger and littler, and marveling about how they’ve grown and changed since the pictures were taken.

Here are a few of my favourites…

George, age 3

James' first Halloween, aged 10 months. He was a pirate!

Family picture taken on Gerard's birthday, 2006. George was almost 3, James was 8 months

George (almost 4) and James (19 months)

James, about 15 months

George, aged about 3 1/2 - a rare shot of him looking into the camera

Ah, how they grow up!

Filed Under: Children, Photography, postaday2011 Tagged With: , , , , ,
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2011 Run For Autism: The Countdown Begins

January 7, 2011 By

This is so weird.  It seems like it was just yesterday that I did my first autism fundraising run, back in September 2009.  I still remember how it was.  I had resumed running after a layoff of several years just six months previously, when I weighed almost 200 pounds or 91kg (to put that into context, my height is 5′ 6″) and I could barely stagger around the block, never mind run 21.1 km.

Since then, I have run a 5km event, three 10km races, two ten-milers and two more half-marathons, including the 2010 autism run.  This year I am planning more and aiming for some ambitious time goals.  How things have changed since 2009.

What’s really exciting me today is that we have already started the process of planning the 2011 Run for Autism.  I was on the organizing committee for the event last year – a committee made up of Geneva Centre for Autism staff members and parents of children with autism – and I will be helping out again this year.  Yesterday I met with Holly, the outgoing fundraiser for the Geneva Centre, and we threw around some ideas.  The first official committee meeting will happen sometime this month, and soon I will be registered for the half-marathon and starting to raise sponsorships.

People have different reasons for running.  Some people do it competitively.  Others do it to stay in shape, and others do it simply for the love of the sport.  People get hooked on the endorphins that kick in after thirty minutes or so of pounding the pavement.  And me?  My reason for running is my kids.  I got back into it because of the opportunity to raise funds for autism services, to do my bit to improve the lives of people like my son George, and also their siblings who need a special kind of support of their own.

The running is not always easy, of course it’s not.  I go through peaks and valleys (right now, in fact, I am trying to claw my way out of a bit of a valley), and there are times when I want to simply quit a run half-way because the going is so rough.  But I put a picture of my boys in my head, and that gives me the strength I need to keep going.  It is the reason I started running, and while I am really enjoying the other benefits that come from running, my boys are the reason I keep it up.

I would run to the other end of the world for my children.  Surely I can manage the occasional 21.1 km.

Filed Under: autism, Children, fundraising, postaday2011, running Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
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Things That Go Bump In The Night

January 6, 2011 By

When our kids were young, all of the experts, books, websites and other parents advised us to establish a consistent bedtime routine.  It took a little bit of time a couple of months four and a half years for us to come up with a routine that works for everyone, and usually bedtimes in my household are fairly uneventful.

Most days the kids will take a bath (I am one of those bad, bad Moms who does not bathe her kids every single day).  On the other days, they take turns in the bathroom to pee, brush their teeth, and wash their hands, faces, and any other parts of them with obvious dirt smears.  They get milk, each boy gets to pick one book for the bedtime stories, and then they are allowed to snuggle on the couch with their Dad for a few minutes.

By the time those few minutes are up, James is very often asleep.  I carry him to his bed – a task that is getting more and more difficult as he gets more and more long and lanky – and if he is still awake I lie down with him for a few minutes and tell him a story about a magic horse I invented that takes James to all kinds of wonderful places.

While this is going on, Gerard is tucking George into his own bed, and when I am done with James, I go in to spend a few minutes with George. He always wants me to stay for longer than I do, but I am always mindful of all of the nightly tasks still waiting to be done. I hug George and give him a few minutes to engage in one of his favourite activities: playing with my abundance of hair. We always have the following dialogue, without fail, every single night (bear in mind as you read this that any dialogue for this mostly non-verbal child is a miracle):

Me: George, who does Mommy love?
George: You love George.
Me: Who does George love?
George: He loves Mommy.
Me: Are you tired?
George: Yes.
Me: Are you ready to go to sleep?
George: Yes.
Me: Goodnight, George.
George: Goodnight, Mommy.

And with that, I give him a kiss, slip out of his room and let him drift off to sleep.  He usually migrates to our bed in the early hours of the morning, and we let him.  One day he’ll grow out of that and we’ll miss these days, so we enjoy it while we can.

Last night, the routine went smoothly enough.  I had my miracle dialogue with George, left his room, and started making sure the boys’ backpacks had what they needed for their respective school days.  All of a sudden, I heard the following from the direction of George’s room:
*Thump* (George flopping himself out of bed and onto the floor)
*Scream* (frustration)
*WHUMP WHUMP* (George banging his head on the wall. Hard enough to dent the drywall)

Oh dear.

I returned to George and calmly made him get back into bed.  As I was trying to settle him, James suddenly appeared by my side crying about how he didn’t feel like being alone.  This was a tricky situation to be in.  Usually, when both boys need me, I simply lie down between them and comfort them at the same time.  But when George is in a state where he is hitting his head off the wall, I need to keep James away from him, otherwise James becomes the target for headbanging.

This was one of those times when I had to send James back to bed crying so I could make sure George was safe.  I always feel truly horrible when I have to do that.  I feel so bad for James.  But sometimes there just isn’t any other choice. It is part of the life and times of special needs parenting.

I got George calmed down – or so I thought – and went in to see James.  I hugged him and comforted him, and told him I loved him.  Sometimes, I said, I have to make sure your brother isn’t getting hurt.  Sometimes I have to make you wait, and that makes you sad, and I am really, really sorry.  But I love you so much and I’ll always take care of you, and I think you are a wonderful boy.

James was content.  He sighed softly and went to sleep.  Just as I was leaving his room, I heard the *thump scream whump whump* from George’s room again.

What, are they trying to tag-team here?  When one stops the other starts?  Can they sense my stress and exhaustion?  Is this that thing that animals do, where they go after the weakest member of the herd?

I am afraid to say that my patience ran out.  I did not go in to George.  I did not hug him or talk to him or try to settle him.  From where I was, I called out angrily, “Get back into bed!  That’s enough!”

There were a couple more screams and one more head-meets-wall incident.  After that, things got quiet and both boys slept through the night in their own beds.  I wasn’t woken at four in the morning by George climbing into bed beside me and wrapping his arms around my neck.  A bittersweet feeling, that.

The logical, rational part of me feels that I did the right thing by not rewarding the second incident of headbanging.

But the Mom in me – the one with a heart full of love for her kids – feels horrible that the last thing my sweet George heard before going to sleep was the sound of my angry voice.

Sometimes, no matter what we do, we feel that we just cannot get it quite right.

Photo credit:  Flickr Creative Commons Attribution License

Filed Under: autism, Children, family, parenting, postaday2011, Siblings, sleep Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
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