“When you think things are bad,
When you feel sour and blue,
When you start to get mad…
You should do what I do!
Just tell yourself, Duckie,
You’re really quite lucky!
Some people are much more…
Oh, ever so much more…
Oh, muchly much-much more
Unlucky than you!”
I had planned to do a lighthearted, fun post to show you all that living in a house overflowing with autism isn’t all doom and gloom (it really isn’t) and that most days are filled with positive aspects, love and fun like in every other house. However, I m sat as a blubbering mess (again) so that post will have to wait for another day.
It was Danny’s first day back at school today after being off ill for over a week so we knew he’d be on edge after having to deal with the change of his routine, so we were expecting the pop bottle reaction. For those who don’t know me and my terminology very well I’ll explain the ‘pop bottle reaction’. When my kids have to be in a situation where they don’t feel comfortable (school, parties, supermarkets) and are around people they don’t know very well they manage to hold themselves together and very rarely display signs of autism openly to the untrained eye, but the stress of them doing this is like having a fizzy bottle of pop and shaking it and then the minute you leave the situation you open the pop bottle (child) and it explodes!
Once again dinner and bedtime led to Danny becoming increasingly explosive and increasingly violent. Hitting and kicking me, headbutting my back, screaming at me to stay away from him and it hurts. It hurts physically because he’s a strong little boy but more than that it breaks my heart. We’ve come such a long way in the two and a half years he’s been diagnosed, from the time where he wouldn’t let me touch him or cuddle him, when he wouldn’t let me put him to bed or read him a story. He’s grown into such a loving and caring little boy who climbs onto my lap for a cuddle and a story and kisses me and tells me he loves me (something I never imagined would happen) so now when he reverts back to looking at me with such hatred in his eyes and with the intent to hurt me it actually breaks my heart.
I know he can’t help it, and I know that underneath the anger and frustration is still the little boy that has grown to love me and that I love with every little bit of me but sometimes I can’t be strong and put a brave face on, sometimes I need a cry too.
Then I remember how lucky I am, things could be so much worse. I have him, I have my girls and they’re the best little people I could ever ask for and I wouldn’t change them or the world – hard times and all!