Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Autism vs. Neesha: The bragging jinx

For three straight weeks, Nabeel has been an angel. I kid you not. I was beginning to think that the horrible phase was over finally! This morning I told my mom how mellow and sweet he's been and about how he's even talking more and showing more patience instead of screaming.

Well, who told me to open my big, fat mouth! Sure enough, after I got home from work today, my mom and sister informed me that he spontaneously started screaming and throwing chairs! Are you kidding me! Noooooooooooooooo. I gave him a talking to very sternly before we left and headed home. He was quiet and good all evening. Then, just as he was at the sink about to brush his teeth, he let out a spine-tingling shriek right near my left ear! Then he shot out some projectile spit, and it grazed my face. That pissed me off, but I kept my cool. I insisted he sit his butt down, and I ordered him to write sentences about why he did that. Lately, the forced sentence writing has proven to thwart full-blown meltdowns. If I catch it just in time, he will stop to obey the command to "WRITE! NOW!"

This is what I need, NOW.
It's very unpleasant, to say the least, to have your 14-year-old kid spit in your face; doesn't matter if they are special needs or what. It's always a degrading and hurtful experience. While fighting back the tears, I kept my stern voice and told him to WRITE. I know this tactic will get old and won't work for long; nothing ever does, but I will keep trying to outsmart these episodes! He's supposed to be getting into a severe behavior clinic, but I'm still waiting for a reply to my email about getting him on the calendar. There's not too much assistance out there, and what's within reach requires a lot of waiting and waiting and waiting. And, goodness, I hate waiting!

Whew! OK, so now, I will drink a cold bottle of water (since I don't drink-drink), say a few prayers to calm my nerves, and hope that he goes to sleep soon. There's always tomorrow, right? Not all days are rough. I'm grateful for those previous three weeks of peace with my baby.



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