Little Bits

Well, its been an interesting few weeks. Aiden has been to his therapist twice and been on his meds for a few weeks. Have I seen a change? Yes. Is it too early to tell if these two changes are helping him? Yes. Why? Because he has been on school holidays and hasn't had the added stress of assignments due and teachers bawling him out.

There are times when we forget how much he takes in and how literal he is. This was brought back to both his dad and I on the weekend. The kids helped me out in the yard, moving a very heavy cage into our chickens pen. They didn't whinge much BUT later, when it came to moving a cubic meter of dirt, they all cracked it...big time. Previously, Aiden has told me, in a fit of temper, that he hates being treated like a slave. Well, on Sunday, his sister spat the same accusation at me.

By the end of the day, after moving a huge amount of dirt, my back was a mess. I couldn't breathe without it spasming. I was in a whole world of hurt and it wasn't getting any easier. I still had a mound of washing to fold. Even bending down to pick up a pair of knickers had me breaking out in a cold sweat and swooning. And I had three whingeing kids who were refusing to help.

It was at that point that I was done. I had put up with being accused of forcing my kids into slavery. I had one day to do all the chores and I was asking for help, help they refused to give...so I quit. I told all three of them that I would not be doing any of the little things I normally do to make their lives easier. No making lunches, no driving them to school, no folding laundry...nothing.

I got the exact reaction I expected, wails of disbelief, moans of "its not fair". And then I looked at Aiden. He was white as a ghost and hyperventilating. He quickly left the room and my husband found him screaming into his pillow. After a good ten minutes he came into our room with tears streaming down his face. Aiden thought we meant that we weren't going to do ANYTHING for him at all and we were going to leave him alone, on his own. Hubby spent ages talking him down and it culminated with Aiden throwing himself into his arms thanking him for not leaving him alone.

I forget that Aiden is so literal, that his life is black and white. There are no grey areas. He doesn't "get" sarcasm, he often has to ask me if I'm being sarcastic with him. That I often have to explain jokes and puns to him.

I forget that my boy is broken. Does that make me a bad Mum?

Cin