A Mommy Blog About Raising Men, Not Boys.

Friday, January 01, 2016

The Pilgrimage to The Pink Pig

Macy's Pink Pig remains a family tradition. I would like to write about family traditions and happy, family holiday times but you know what it's just not that kind of morning.

Let me tell you what kind of morning it is.

It's a fucking Autism morning.

Even at the Pink Pig, one of our most favorite family things to do autism had to rear it's ugly head and make a spectacle of itself. Miles decided that ride number two shouldn't happen for some reason and starts losing his shit with me on the ride. Which was awesome.
This is moments before a full on crazy meltdown started. We took some selfies and he thinks that fun, and then suddenly...just suddenly everything was wrong in his world.

Miles will hurt himself. Miles claws and scratches. He'll also hurt Charlie but a lot of the time his efforts are aimed at himself. He shakes and moans and sometimes screams, but luckily at Macy's his efforts stayed in the moaning, shaking and clasping his hands too tightly repeatedly.
This is the face an autism mom makes when she isn't acknowledging the tantrum. It's called "extinction" and although it sounds like hippie-dippie bullshit it actually works with autistic kids. Sometimes. Sometimes it works. Not always. This is the end of the tantrum so it's not like I worked some magic with my parenting skills, he's actually calming down as the ride has stopped. I think he was counting it as a victory.
I don't know what we'd do without Louis some days. He helps us divide and conquer the twins, which I'm doing right now. Miles is beside me on the other computer watching videos on Sesamestreet.com or something, and Charlie has gone downstairs. They previously were running up and down the hall, Miles trying to scratch or pinch Charlie and Charlie screaming accordingly.

Why? Because AUTISM that's why.

I covet quiet and being alone just a little bit every day. I don't want it all the time, because the vacuum of silence can be overpowering. I don't like to be in my house alone actually. But just an hour or so in the mornings, before they all wake up, is precious to me. It sets my brain on right and helps me be mentally ready for my day. What I really like is slinking up and down the creaking stairs fetching endless cups of coffee, listening to the snoring in the bedrooms and knowing my family is near and safe, slumbering happily.
This morning is as close to a fail on that as I'm likely to get. I woke up after 930, with all three little kids piled in my bed. I have to confess that it was sort of wonderful,though. It means that breakfast was late which the little ones don't like and it makes them cranky and more prone to fight and well, here we are.

With that being said, it's all ok. It's a New Year and while nothing really changed in the past 24 hours except the printing on the calendar, I am mentally closing the door on a year that was full of horror and sadness. Those things are both over, and will never be over. But I like the idea that the year they happened in is gone.

So it's an Autism morning but hell, they're all Autism morning in one way or another around these parts. What changes is my ability to cope, and today I guess I'm rolling a bit low. That's ok, I'll drink more coffee and my super-powers should kick in, right?
I am pretty sure this is true. So I'm gonna plod onward.

That's how I roll.

Happy New Year. I don't know what kind of year it will be, but I know it won't be 2015, and that's good enough for me.