I'm trying to write a daybook for the month but for some reason (school), I'm so incredibly busy (family), and I haven't had a chance to write much (other stuff), and oh well.
But this week can just go away any time now.
First my cat went downhill quickly. My sweet Tasha-cat, lap kitty, fluffy pet-me-now-I mean-RIGHT now angel... she's gone now. And I won't deny that it hurts. A lot. This is the stage where I say, no more pets. I'm done. Other than the sweet boy kitty who lives here, but he's not really mine, he belongs to my daughter. But he's either really lonely, or he is taking advantage of the fact that nobody else is right by me now and he gets to sit there! and be petted.
Cats. You either love them or not. I love mine. Will I get another one? I don't know. Not today.
And then yesterday, Robbie lost a molar. He had 2 baby teeth left, now there is one, but I don't know where it is. He lost it at therapy and they sadly don't know where the tooth went. It keeps bleeding though, and I think that the new tooth coming in is causing pain because he's not happy.
Yesterday was hair cut day, so I picked him up early at therapy and made the first mistake.
Instead of backing out of the space and going toward the street, I committed the great sin of pulling forward into the next parking lot and then going toward the street. Robbie... was quite put out, to put it mildly.
I had to pull the car over into parking lots twice and stop the car and turn and look toward him and say, until you calm down, we are NOT MOVING.
He doesn't like that either but I just sat there until he calmed down, because wow. That was quite some rocking back and forth, and you know what happens when a 85 lbs 5 ft tall kid does that? The entire car rocks a bit. Not my favorite thing.
So... we get to the hair cut, and he seems calm now. Okay, let's do this.
We walk in, sit down to wait, and he loses it. TEARS flowing out his eyes, a low keening that sets you on edge, and occasionally sobbing, because life is OVER. Or it will be over if you please do not stop. I have remarked to K that this particular sound, the low keening, is not really a survival instinct, because in the wild, the mob will make sure you stop permanently. But... I am a civilized person, a loving person, the mother to this child... and I wanted the keening to disappear. But I think I was the kind of mom he needed right then. I certainly was doing my best.
At least it was obvious that he was autistic, because at least you don't get the "you need to discipline your child, lady" looks. You know, the ones that look at you with that glare that says, you are the worst mom ever and I'd handle that kid right. Or am I the only one who gets those looks?
I asked him if he wanted to go home. No. Did he want the haircut? Yes. And yes, he sat in the chair, crying, but holding still for her to work on his hair... the entire time. Until moments before it ended, when the crying stopped and he seemed fine again. (And this is NOT normal for haircuts - he usually is perfectly fine!)
And I hope that it never happens like that again. She told me the (very incredibly reasonable) price, and I handed her enough cash that she got over a 50% tip. Because she earned it.
I earned a break too, but you know what. I don't get one.
So in the end, who actually got traumatized by this event? Me.
Robbie is fine.