I need a serious break from my child this week.
I can’t deal with the obsessive compulsive behaviors.
He wants us to hold his hand through absolutely everything.
Last night, we discussed the fact that he will need medication one day.
We won’t do that now, while he is young, but I do see that it’s true for his future. My kid will need meds to get through his day.
That makes me sad. Dealing with him makes me sad too, but watching him struggle with everything makes me the saddest of all.
He makes such progress. Today he even asked me why I was crying. Miraculous! A year ago he wouldn’t have noticed, much less thought enough of it to form a perfect question.
And yet, he still cannot articulate many of his interests. Exhaustion from trying to guess them and get him to say them is frequently what motivates my tears in the first place. He fatigues me.
During his shower tonight, he called me into the bathroom four times and not once could he tell me what he wanted. We haven’t stayed in the bathroom with him for over a year. It’s not a new thing, but tonight he acted like it was. He regresses. I lose my mind.
It is rare that I am physically comfortable in the presence of my child. The moment I get off my bad feet, he wants me on them again. The second I go into the bathroom or the garage or upstairs or downstairs, he wants me to be in the kitchen or the bedroom or the front room or outside. Today, I ate my cereal while standing in the kitchen. Standing, because it was easier to just stay up after he made me leave my chair the third time.
Right now he is paralyzed on the stairs. He has taken a bath, is stark naked, and probably is getting cold. Our house is an ice box. But he is paralyzed by something he can’t put into words. I have tried to pull it out of him. I figure it has something to do with the pajamas. I know he doesn’t like the two pairs of pajama pants in the drawer right now, but even my asking about that gets nothing from him. He just sits there. He wants something from me, but he has no means of communicating what it is. And I am desperately sick of the guessing game.
We still have no regular babysitter. My mom and brother help out how and when they can, but no one comes to our house where he is the most comfortable. No one lets us leave him here to get away for a moment together. Our marriage suffers. Our sanity wanes.
Husband has just pulled into the garage and the child is finally clothed and watching his video.
I’m too tired to write anything else.