Congratulations to me! I officially cannot physically manage my child out of an area if he's having a meltdown! He's gotten too big and much too strong! Yay!! Let me go put that down in his baby book that I stopped filling out when it became way to painful for me to face that page off all the stuff he should have been doing at two that he wasn't. Wait a second, there's not a space for that. Marketing opportunity!
Maybe it ought to be some "life event" you could tag your friends who helped you carry your kid out of the dirt and to your car. Folks could give it a "like". Wouldn't that be awesome?! Mark Zuckerberg, get on that already.
Yesterday's outing was a shit show. I have never been more scared, frightened and mortified at once. I wasn't even sure those feelings could combine like they did but here's my Kiddo proving me wrong again at the EPIC meltdown he had at a birthday party.
I have never experienced anything like it. It went from "Yay party!" to "Oh my god I'm going to have to call 911 because what the fuck else do I do?" in about two minutes. I still have no idea what triggered it. It was the exact same party he had a fantastic time at last year. Same place. Same people. Same everything and it still wasn't enough. I'm sure some person right now is judging me thinking THEY know what I did to screw it up. To them I say, "FUCK OFF and you're free to come get him."
Because the worst feeling I have right now is shame. I am so ashamed at his behavior, my behavior because I was in tears and just shamed at being ashamed. I'm shamed inception. I'm meta shamed.
This party was for a friend's four year old daughter. We were surrounded by toddlers. He couldn't stay. We're now hitting the milestone of his meltdowns being a danger to others. Add that moment to my memory book. Fun!
Driving him home was no walk in the park either. He was still raging for hours. He lashed out at my husband and at myself multiple times. I just don't know what to do at the moment. It's the next day and he's all "La Di Da!" now but I'm not. I feel like I'm walking around gripping tightly to a hand grenade that I lost the pin too.
He's only getting older and bigger. I'm only getting older.
These are the milestones no one talks about. When our autistic kids stop being cute and little, then what? It's not so cute anymore. It's not just a nod and a hug and thinking "Oh he's just having a hard time."
If my two girlfriends weren't with me, I don't know what I would have done. This is the future for us? Really?
My choices are to just shake this off and try again. Or live like a hermit and never leave the house. Right now, moving to a convent by myself to be a nun is looking like a appealing option at the moment.
I can accept my son's autism but no, I can't accept that this is our life from now on. I won't. I refuse. I have to figure this out. We can't live like this. He deserves more than that. I'm not sure what I am going to do and I don't expect to figure it out all at once. I just don't want to meet anymore of these milestones anymore.