So my son is mad at me tonight. “Get out of my room, Mom. I am not talking to you and I don’t want you to tuck me in.”
And you know what, it is hard. It is hard doing the right thing. In honesty, I am happy he said this to me. Being that when he was 2 and a half they told me he would never be able to put the sounds together in order for him to say I love you. However, I still have to do the right thing, this is what is hard.
You see, my son has autism. His moods fluctuate sometimes a number of times so high you just stop counting. Other days his moods can stick for days. This weekend, this was a hard one. Moods changing hourly if not more so. But again, it is hard. It is hard because I have been doing the right thing.
Well, sort of.
I have set boundaries, but then I get busy he is sneaky, breaks the rules and it takes me too long to catch him so he has gotten away with it for too long then it becomes impossible to recover.
Yeah, that. I brought this one on myself.
So. This weekend I was the greatest mother in the world when I let him play the drums and buy a bongo at our local guitar center, but then the worst mother ever when he hadn’t earned his TV time and he was “bored!” Both incidents occurred within 1 hour of time.
It is exhausting. I am often exhausted. Sometimes for my own sanity I need to let him get “away with it,” but then trying to transition off what he has gotten away with brings on the tantrum like meltdown and I’m now not allowed to tuck him in and kiss him good night.
So here I am taking yet another deep breath and wondering how I can adjust the reward chart yet again wondering, will he ever just know what he is doing is wrong? Or am I going to have to lock things up away from him forever until he earns them?
It’s hard. He’s mad. Me too.