I shouldn’t have let Aaron go to his
day group on Monday. His mood was pretty
foul at home, but he wanted to go and so I let him. He only wanted to go because he knows that
having a special meal on Friday night depends on him going to Paradigm every
day. Funny how these rewards can come
back to bite me. He was pleasant on the
drive across town. But the way he
slammed the van door when he got out was a sign to me that it might be a rough
day. And it was.
I knew when I got the phone call from
Paradigm that afternoon, and Barb said a quick hello before putting her phone
on speaker. That’s usually what she does
when she wants Aaron to also talk, and wants him to hear me. Aaron was yelling, very upset and belligerent. It had been a no good, very bad day…..and was
soon to get even worse. At this point,
Aaron didn’t want to ride home with his driver.
Last August, we hired an agency to bring Aaron home from Paradigm in the
afternoons. Aaron likes going from point
A to point B, with no stops in between.
But the route includes other clients that go home before him, so this
had become a trigger for Aaron. On his
no good, very bad day….Monday….he did NOT want to ride anywhere but home.
Once Aaron is upset…really upset….he’s
like a volcano that must erupt until the flow of anger is over. His autism prevents him from calming easily. It prevents him from listening to reason or
being reasonable. He has very few filters,
so words fly when he erupts, and some are inappropriate. He decided on Monday to go ahead and ride
home with the driver, knowing that he really had no other choice. But he promptly told her to shut up when he
got in the car, and he refused to put on his seat belt. The whole way. Not good….not good at all.
Shortly after he got home, upset
still but calming some, my phone rang.
It was the agency that provides his rides home, telling me that they
were very sorry but that Aaron would no longer be allowed to ride with
them. I understood, but I tried to do
some explaining and then I asked for a second chance….but two days later was
told there was no second chance. Good
luck with finding a new driver….it’s been nice working with you….
Back to Monday. After the phone call, Aaron looked
stricken. He decided to try to rectify
things by offering to help cut the ends off the asparagus I was fixing for
supper. I let him. And during supper, out of the blue, he asked
if he could write a get well note to our friend, Atha. She’s been very sick and is in a rehab center. I got him a note card and he wrote her his succinct
get well wishes. They were words of gold
to me that night. I think they will be
for Atha as well.
Later, though, as Gary and I tried to
absorb the events of Aaron’s day – especially the loss of his ride home, which
is huge – things went downhill fast.
Aaron ended up realizing that we were trying to bring up the recurring
subject of him moving out one day….living in a residential setting.
“You could live with some friends,
Aaron!” we said.
“I DON’T WANT TO LIVE WITH FRIENDS!!”
he yelled.
And he stormed up the stairs as he
told us how much he hated us.
But within seconds he was stomping
back down the stairs, sitting in the recliner and rocking furiously.
“You just want me to leave!” he said,
with tears coming down his face.
We tried to explain….tried once again
to reason with him. It doesn’t work.
“Aaron, Rosa lives with her friends
and comes home on weekends. And Shauna,
and Natalie….”we told him.
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT ROSA OR SHAUNA OR
NATALIE!!” he again yelled…..and again stormed up the stairs.
This went on for a long time, until
finally he….and we….were spent and there was nothing else to say.
Tuesday was a better day at his day
group, for the most part. I drove to
Paradigm in the afternoon to pick him up, fighting my frustration. It didn’t help me at all to see and hear Aaron
being rude to another client. I was
distant and silent as we started the drive home, finally responding some to
Aaron but being rather cold. That wasn’t
a good choice for me to make.
“Mom!” Aaron said. “You’re ‘iknorin’ me!”
The volcano erupted once again when
we got home. Aaron kept saying over and
over that I had ‘iknored’ him. He was
crying hard, and my heart was breaking.
I tried to explain, but to no avail.
He pulled a large picture off his wall, taking some paint and dry wall
with it. He ripped a dollar bill into
pieces. He very loudly slammed his door
several times. And he told me that he
was going to put a sticky note on his door that said, “Mom is an idiot!!”
I sat on his bed. He had his headphones on as he looked at a
video. I told him again that I was
sorry, and I asked him to forgive me.
All he could do was cry and say, “You were ‘iknorin’ me!!”
So I said the words that always reach
his heart.
“Aaron? Would you like to go get a Slushie from
Sonic?”
Without even a pause he quickly said yes,
and so we got in the van and got his slushie.
I parked in the Dillon’s parking lot, away from others, and he slurped
while I talked. He calmed and I tried to
explain things, knowing full well that Aaron doesn’t relate to most of our
explaining sessions. Finally I was
done. There was quietness before Aaron
spoke again.
“Mom? There’s a reason why you shouldn’t watch Alien
Vs. Predator 2.”
He didn’t notice my deep sigh or the
shaking of my head.
Oh, if only Aaron could convey to us
his hurt and his anger with reasoning words instead of hard and hurtful words! Or curse words. Or just totally ignoring the situation and
talking about aliens.
Aaron often doesn’t even know why he’s
frustrated. He just is on some
days. As he escalates, so do others
around him, and that only further compounds the issues. I reacted with ‘iknorin’ him on some of the
drive home, which I really shouldn’t have done, so he reacted. Did he ever!
But he was afraid that I didn’t love him anymore. He’s terrified of losing my love, but he can’t
verbalize that. So he reacts with
anything that comes to his mind that demonstrates his deep fear and hurt. That usually means that he breaks something,
like his watch or his glasses or his picture on the wall or the dollar bill.
Why am I telling you all of this
ugliness?
I’m sitting here listening to Aaron’s
monitor….listening for another seizure which may come. He had a long seizure at 5:30 this morning,
and only one seizure means that usually more will follow during the day. He’s napping in his room and I’m on alert as
I go about my day.
I tell you the ugliness of his behaviors
because really, those behaviors hold him down more in life than do his seizures. It’s a raw, hard reality for many parents of
special needs children. Those sudden,
awful, interrupting, exhausting behaviors.
I can explain seizures. Other parents can explain various visible
special needs of their children, or even special needs not seen but understood. But
behaviors? So frustrating….so
embarrassing…..so condemning for both child and parent.
But we need those behaviors to be
understood as well. And we as parents
need to always work to understand them, too, especially in the heat of the moment.
I have friends who would say to
others, “Please, please understand my loud and uncooperative and bizarre and
hateful child. Please just try to
understand, and not judge and not condemn and try to give advice or lectures. Just understand, a little even. Sometimes that’s all we can manage, too. A little.”
And love a lot.
Tuesday night, as Gary was going to
bed, he said, “Hey Aaron. Come here.”
I thought that Gary had something
cool to show Aaron, so I looked around the corner of the kitchen to see what it
was.
And as Aaron walked toward his dad, Gary
held his arm out and gave Aaron a hug.
Aaron even responded!
I blinked back the tears. Sometimes it’s hard to love Aaron, honestly,
but we must….and we do. I was very
thankful for that sweet picture that ended our second no good, very bad day
with Aaron.
One more thing. I went inside Paradigm yesterday when I went
to pick up Aaron. What a lifter-upper
that was!! Those wonderful clients, with
so many needs, have so much love to give….even on or after the bad days. Love for me and more importantly, love for
Aaron. We could hardly leave for all the
hugs and talking and smiling.
Every day is a new day, as Barb
says. A fresh new start.
“This is the day which the Lord has
made. I will rejoice and be glad in it!”
But sometimes I AM glad when they’re
over. J
Playing Skip-Bo at the end of one of those rough days |
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