Thursday, January 19, 2012

I once had such perfect arms....


My heart is breaking.


These are pictures of his arms (from tonight) where he has bitten himself when he gets mad. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I have a huge bite mark on my arm from Saturday (and now I don't even care - I wish I had all the marks on my arms) apparently I somehow missed that he was biting himself again. Last night I had to hold him for 30 minutes while he sobbed because he was so mad and begged me to let him bite himself.   I have been so exhausted and not feeling well that when I gave him his showers/baths I missed these bruises.

I told him that it makes me sad when he hurts himself and he said, "I once had such perfect arms." I said they will be perfect again but he has to stop biting himself and us.  I told him we have to find ways to channel his anger.
He is having problems at school with anxiety, frustration and staying on task.  We are working with the teacher and school psychologist closely.  The problem and it will sound funny that it is a "problem" is that he is a very smart kid - scoring off the charts and so if he doesn't have academic issues - CSE doesn't care.  I'm going to see how next week goes - and if things aren't better - I'm going to call the neurologist and ask for a CSE meeting to see if we can't get him extra help.

God help us. He had a good day today. I hope they continue. Pray for us.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Sadness

I am just so sad.  Unbearably sad.

Friday Andrew ran to me after school and said - "I had a bad day - I cried three times.  I told you when I woke up this morning I knew I was going to have a bad day."  His wonderful teacher whom he loves and I do too told me - he had a time out for calling out after being warned and then apparently - his crying jags continued several other times.

On Saturday while Jim and Andrew were out for their "Subway breakfast" - they do that sometimes on the weekend when Jim is home, I got an exciting call from  Johns Hopkins.  When they got back I said I got some exciting news (about a study on colon cancer) and Andrew said, "I don't have autism anymore is that the news?"  He was beaming and jumping up and down.  I felt a crack in my heart.  I told him no that it was about daddy and he got upset and went to his room.  I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Autism makes me stupid."  I explained again that he knows he is not stupid - that he is one of the smartest kids in his class and he replied, "It makes me act stupid and all the kids make fun of me."  I think he knows that his crying and frustration levels are not normal and he feels all eyes are on him.  I hope they don't make fun of him - I don't believe they do but I know Andrew is very self aware of how he acts in hindsight.  He has told me repeatedly "I can't help it.  Mrs. M wants me to fix myself and I can't."  Mrs. M doesn't want him to fix himself - he feels that Mrs. M wants him to have control over some of his actions and that sometimes he just can't.

About ten days ago he told his father that the "cool kids" on the playground make fun of him when he does something wrong.  My brain says while they are sweet kids - they are just that kids and it is normal for them to make a face or not understand his behavior.  My protective heart wants to do otherwise.  I even told a few friends "that's okay the cool kids will be picking up his garbage every Tuesday and Thursday in twenty years while he at the hospital finding a cure for cancer."  (Originally I said brain surgery but in hindsight - lovely thing hindsight - he is way too jumpy to operate on a brain.) :-)

On Monday mornings he goes in for extra Math help - but not for help - just to have extra time on Fastt Math - the program that he loves.  He walks up to MM and a group of kids – and says the Giants beat the Falcons – they said they knew and turned their backs on him – and he tried really hard to talk to them but they weren’t interested.  I was getting really upset. But he walked away – regrouped and tried again and the next thing – MM smiled at something he said – and he stayed there in the group on the outskirts listening but he kept trying.


In the light of all things - these problems are small but they still weigh very, very heavy on my overburdened heart.