Anyway, got two more stories for ya. Yes, two!
All of us went to Home Depot this weekend to pick out some paint for the new house we're renovating. Taz is obsessed with Dh. Obsessed. I think it's normal for his age. He's a daddy's boy and with Dh always working on the house so we can move Taz doesn't see him as much as usual. So naturally he relishes the time he can get with him.
Taz was pretty good through most of the trip until the very end. He kept wanting to push the cart. The problem is he is not a very good driver and kept crashing it into shelves. So I told him he couldn't do it anymore. But he is very defiant. He kept trying until I placed him in the cart, which he barely fits anymore. Dh had him in a couple aisles down from where I was looking at paint with Chica and I could hear him screaming. Very. Loudly.
I actually thought about yelling "Hey! Control your kid!" out loud in Dh's direction. But I thought he might kill me for that ;)
Instead I pushed him out to the car to wait until Dh was done. On our way out I got an "Oh My God!" mouthed in my direction. Which was odd to me because Taz was just screaming. He's done way worse than that.
My next story happened just yesterday. Stick with me cause the best part is at the end. I took the kids to our local mall to kill some time because it was cold outside. In our mall there is a kid's play land with slides, tunnels, and space to run around. Chica is at an age where she loves this place. Everything is her size and nice and soft so she can't really get hurt. Taz likes it too, but it's overstimulating for him to be there for too long. But I wanted to give Chica a chance to play. Remember, one of my motto's is "we do have another kid". I don't want to leave Chica out in left field.
Well Taz was off. Way off. This was Dh's fault. He was in charge of the kids Saturday morning cause I went to work early. He didn't give Taz his meds. He forgot. I think that's why Taz was so off.
He was all over the place. Extremely paranoid of the other children. He was screaming at them to stop looking at him. He was completely out of control. Again, I stayed calm. I pulled him aside a couple times to calm him down and talk him through the feelings. Finally, Taz jumped up on the my lap and pulled desperately at my neck, and it was clear he was out of sorts and just didn't know what to do with himself. He said I want to go. What he really meant was I NEED to go!
So we left. But even putting our shoes on was a difficult task. Taz couldn't slow down enough to sit still so I could put them on him. Taz can not put his shoes on himself. He can't get himself dressed either. He doesn't have much independence at all, even for a four year old.
As I looked around at the parents in the play area, I thought for sure I would be met with some nasty looks and head shaking. But there wasn't any. All I saw was sympathy. When I looked around I realized they felt bad for me!
Good, in a way. But have we really gotten that bad? So bad that it's painfully obvious that there is something going on with my son? Something that isn't over-indulgent lazy parenting!
I don't actually know what anyone there was thinking. Maybe they felt bad for him that I was such an awful parent! Either way. It shocked me. And I'm not sure if it's in a good way or a bad way.
It's times like these I'm glad I'm not a celebrity (although one could argue the basis ofwhy Octo-mom is a celebrity in the first place?)
just 2 random thoughts . . . for some reason, it took several conversations with our pdoc before i realized . . . if he misses his meds, take them asap . . . even if its with the next set and he doubles up. Otherwise, you're actually lowering his dose. We've done much better since i make him take his missed morning pills when we notice at 5, instead of skipping them 'since he will take more at 7, anyways . . / '
ReplyDeleteAlso, w my younger, we will leave barefoot if its too much effort to put on shoes. My (very helpful!) 14 yo bipolar will carry the shoes while I drag my (almost odd) 6 yo to the car.
as for the 'is it that obvious' . . .it sure sounds like it.
Oh, man, I know exactly what you mean. It's that space where there's a shift and the kid no longer seems like a "brat" to people; he seems "disabled." A mixed blessing, to be sure!
ReplyDeleteNowadays, when Carter is stable, it's the tsk tsk, head shaking, etc. (Or a jerk at the post office who actually called him a brat!) When he's not stable, it's painfully obvious to most people that he's very different in some major way.