Well. Fuck.
Jul. 15th, 2017 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
My nearly 8-yo autistic son, for the first time ever, expressed his displeasure in one of his parents in words. He was angry at me because I made him go potty before he went to bed (because kids). It was my night to read to him so I go in there and he says “Go away.” Thanks to autism it’s difficult to know sometimes whether he’s just saying something because he likes the way it sounds (yep, that’s a thing he does) or if he really means it, so we pressed him on it a little. “Do you… mean that you want mum to go?” “Mom* go!” Massive sadface behind his back from mum while dad says he needs to go get his phone. Oooookay talk time. “Are you ok?” “Me I angry**.” Deeeeeeep breath. “I’m sorry that you’re angry at me, but going potty is part of getting ready for bed.” Long pause, then he says, “Sorry I angry.” “Oh no, honey. You don’t ever have to be sorry for how you feel. It’s ok. Families fight sometimes, but that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other.” Pause. “Are we ok?” “Okay, mom.” He mutters. “Can I have a hug and kiss at least?” He gave. “I love you, boy.” “Okay love you.” That’s as good as I’m gonna get.
Aaron comes back in to take over, swapping nights with me because apparently my kid doesn’t want me around at the moment. Ok. Fine. I can relate to that… even if it breaks my heart so hard it’s gone from glass to sand. Sooo I leave the room and go and cry for a bit and. Stuff.
So. That fucking sucked. :(
You know, I was thinking, last night while trying to fall asleep, about my dad. One time he came out onto our porch where I was sitting drawing (probably?) or possibly writing (because I wrote everything by hand in those days) and said, “Wow. How’d you get that gorgeous hair color?” And me, in my 15-yo “leave me the fuck alone” shit-head attitude said, “From a box?” and just ignored him. He stood there a little bit before going back inside. I dunno what made me think of it, but my brain goes to some strange places while I’m trying to force myself to sleep, and there the memory was. I wonder if it’s even something that he remembers now. Or if that was him trying to reach out. And then today this. I think the gods are playing karma tricks. Wankers.
*no matter how I try he still calls me mom instead of mum like I want. alas.
**he has trouble getting words in the right order and/or context, because he also has speech apraxia alongside, or possibly because of, the autism fun.