Damn Obsessions (Continued)

So on this Saturday morning of the 8^th, I am having breakfast around 8 A.M. because that’s as early as I was able to drag myself out of bed. Puppy had already fixed himself waffles and milk and was ready to head out the door to observe any neighbor smoking that comes out of their house first. I figured something was up, so sure enough he had run out of paper to use as rolled up cigarettes, so he had gone through my purse and taken four dollars, had rolled them up and taped them as substitutes. But I didn’t find these until later that morning. So let’s just say he was a happy camper because he was getting his imaginary fix on cigarettes.

In one of his check-ups on me, I was able to have him help me with laundry chores, so the entire morning wasn’t lost. However, we had an invitation from Ms. H to attend her son’s birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese at noon. Let’s just say the morning flew by and we were at the party. The only problem is that Puppy has been complaining of chest pains for a few days this week so I figured I better have him checked. With Puppy, it could be anything. It’s not easy to know because he doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe his pain or location very well. He’s been going through so many issues these days that I was thinking it was just anxiety or nerves because it usually comes around the time he’s stressed about something he did. He was looked over by a doctor at a clinic and he guessed it may be heartburn because test results were normal. We picked up our prescription for Zantac and went home.

Boy, this story is really going to drag out since I’m writing early in the morning and not having enough time. Once again, to be continued.

Damn Obsessions

Yea, I am cussing. I am just so damned tired. I've learned to hide so much that if it weren't for prescription drugs...I'd definitely would have lost it so many times. It's almost like being in a relationship that's so demanding and sometimes overwhelming that you feel if you talk or share with others, you are complaining and no one wants to be around a complainer or whiner. So we, I, hide it and keep to myself.

If it weren't for blogging I may have been worse off. I can vent or share in my blog. Well, this weekend was one of those weekends that was with great strain on us. Puppy started Friday evening with some debating. I picked him up from daycare and we visited with my parents for a while. But he was eager to get home. Puppy had his wallet removed from him at school the week before around Wednesday; and since then he was carrying his extra credit cards in his pocket to school. For lack of concentration, he had those taken away as well during the week. So when he finally got the wallet back, he had no cards to put in it. I had an ARD on Friday and the teacher returned the cards to me explaining how it all came to be that he had them taken away. So now I returned cards to him and he wanted to get home to fill his wallet which he had purposely left at home so that it wouldn't be taken away at school again.

But it didn't stop there. Cigarettes were on his mind as well. He was nagging all the way home for me to stop at the Dollar General store so that he could buy toy cigarettes, as if. So driving by passed the store caused only more of a tantrum with him punching the truck window and dashboard. Not the first time, so it goes on for about a half mile and we make it home without damage to the truck or him.

His Saturday morning just picked up where it left off the night before only it was now 7 A.M.


Sorry readers, I just saw the clock and I'll make myself late for work if I don't get moving. This will definitely be continued, hopefully tonight. I have so many parts to the story to write about that I don't want to cut to the chase and end it. Stay tuned for more.

The good, the bad and the ugly

Titles for my posts don't always come easy, but this one did because this is exactly how our days have been lately. I suppose I'll take it from the top.

The good...  Ms. H came over the other day last week as part of our daily routines. Last week was also the final days of the regular school year. She was already looking ahead for ideas of how to keep herself and her 6 year old son occupied during the summer break and signed him up for Tae-kwon-do and swimming lessons.

Well, my ears went into alert mode and I wondered if maybe Puppy might be interested in swimming lessons, too. So, interested or not, I called up the instructor and briefly informed her he has autism and she was willing to give it a try. That's all I needed and signed him up.  Ms. H has been doing a fantastic job of watching over him in the afternoons, picking him up at my parents' after the school bus drops him off from summer school, then taking him to swimming lessons, then keeping him at her place until I get out of work. Routine is in place and all is well...so far.

The bad...  Puppy spent about an hour on Sunday at our neighbor's. Their family consists of the dad, mom, two boys and a girl, all younger than Puppy. But nonetheless, he went over like he usually does every once in a blue moon. Well he comes back and is very quiet, greets me and races upstairs to his bedroom. He was awfully quiet for a good while before coming back downstairs and then he started pacing.  He looked for a piece of paper and pencil (but a purple crayon did just fine), brought it over to me and asked, “How do you write present?” I spelled it for him and he wrote it down then walked away.  I thought to myself that he may be making a list of gifts he wants for his birthday next month. So he’s pacing and then stops next to me again. He asked me if he can show me something, and I say yes. He pulls out the piece of paper and hands it to me.

I read it and I ask him if that’s the present he wants. He whispers to me, “No mom, that’s what Mr. Segovia gave me. It’s old and he doesn’t want it, he has a new one.” I could feel my blood drain to my feet. And strangely it went rising right back up to my head in anger. But I wasn’t sure whom to be angry with, Mr. Segovia for giving Puppy something he likes or Puppy for taking it when he clearly knows he shouldn’t have one. It wasn’t easy to defend Puppy because clearly our neighbor didn’t know giving him a wallet was a no-no.

 

The ugly…  Well, every day since the first day of swimming lessons, Puppy says he doesn’t want to go swimming. But then Ms. H talks to him and convinces him to go and he does just fine.  The other ugly is the unnecessary debates we have on a daily basis both in the morning before school and in the evenings when I pick him up. Debates about why his teacher doesn’t allow him to carry anything in his pockets; about why he can’t go buy the wallet he really wants now and not wait for his birthday; about why he can’t have an itouch/ipod, everyone else has one; about why he can’t take the wallet the neighbor gave him to school; about why he doesn’t like his MP3 player so much anymore, etc., etc…

It’s not so pretty. I get headaches. I search for answers. I find none. I take it one day at a time.

We make a deal at Walmart

And so we made it to Walmart yesterday afternoon. Puppy was in search of a wallet that cost $3.22 or less. I knew there was no such price, but telling him this was not registering. He had to see for himself because I’m pretty sure he thought I was lying.

We walk in and he asks if he can go to the wallet section. I told him he had to stay at my side today and we would go together because kids should not be walking around the store alone. He complied and we started filling our basket of items.

Then, he saw we were close enough and says, “Now can I go see?” I tell him its okay and to be careful not to make a mess and to put everything back like he found it. I find him looking and moving wallets this way and the other. He is specifically looking for the Velcro wallets because he already knows they aren’t too expensive; and he going to get a wallet, damn it—even if it’s a cheap one. But as he starts to sift through them, he sees that the price tags read $5.00, $9.00, and $12.00. He is disappointed because he knows we made a deal. The deal was if he had enough money he could buy one, if not enough money then he couldn’t get one. It must have taken him about 10 minutes (which felt like an hour to me) to look at practically each and every wallet at the two sections the store had. And it felt like another hour to get him away from them.

He did a bit of whining, as we continued shopping for groceries. But I asked him to calm down and if he couldn’t we would have to leave the store because tantrums are unacceptable. I grabbed my purse and put it over my shoulder saying, “Let’s go home.”  He took a deep breath and said he would behave and he didn’t want to leave. 

We were basically done when we walk passed the jewelry and sunglasses. He turns and says, “I want a bracelet.” “I have money.” Quickly, my mind brainstorms and I think that if there is an inexpensive bracelet, I should let him buy it so that he could spend his money.  We look and look…and finally come to an agreement.  It cost $5.00 but I would put the difference because this was not a wallet. It would be worn on his arm and not put in his pocket, or so I hope. Time will tell. He’s happy, I’m happy he no longer has money and we go home happy with Puppy sporting a new wristband.

Obsession presssures

We are pretty much back to square one. The pressure of not having a wallet has definitely caught up to him. Puppy has gone back to making paper wallets on a daily basis, then realizing that he shouldn't be using paper, so he rips it up and throws it away. Then he's walking around like a very lost soul who's purpose is missing.

The need, the obsession continues. Notice the rip in his back pocket. He's torn three pairs to get the "look" he needs. Puppy mimics people and actions and words. So he's gone to mimicking my brother and the use of his wallet and the torn jeans.  He tries so much to get through the day. He manages to make it through class and after school, but once he comes home there is a lack of structure and he breaks down. He will hide in his room or at the computer desk and quietly make himself another paper wallet. Once he is able to get his cards into the make believe wallet, he is whole again. He goes to bed with the wallet at his side. I only hope he has peaceful sleeps, but I can imagine him dreaming scenes where he has the prefect wallet in his back pocket and him showing it off to anyone whom will give him the time and attention.

 

Well, as it goes...Puppy has been standing or sitting next to me all morning asking for me to get dressed and take him to Walmart so that he can go buy a velcro wallet with the $3.22 he has managed to save and/or find in drawers or even the ground (pennies from Heaven). I've sent him away with the intentions of making a trip to Walmart. But only if I can finish watching my Redbox movie that was started last night, as well as getting one more load of laundry done before we can consider going to Walmart. He's content and has walked away to give me a little space.  I'm attaching pictures to give visuals of his paper wallets. Oh Puppy, you put so much effort into them then throw them away. What a simple yet terrible obsession.

                                                                

Ignore the ID in the wallet. It's my old driver's license. It has come in handy when Puppy has gotten lost at Target and then at Walgreen"s. He has memorized my cellular number and knows that the store personnel can call me to him if he gets lost. But mostly, I'm glad he's learned never to go outside the store without me. Look for me first, because I would never leave him behind.

   

Understanding long term goals

I don’t know if I’m imagining it, or if Puppy actually understands something about having his ultimate desired prize.  His obsession with having a wallet is taking him to a place that he hadn’t been before. Making decisions that will be permanent or long term has never been a part of his world. Yet, this morning he was talking with me and he was repeating phrases he’s heard a hundred times. But this time he spoke them in with an order and accepting manner.

“Mom, I’m not going to carry anything in my pockets. Those are the rules. I need to concentrate and focus in school. I need to behave and count the days. No more paper wallets. No paper. I will get my wallet on my birthday. It will be the perfect wallet that I want. We will go to Kohl’s and buy it if I have good behavior a lot of days until my birthday. I will keep it for a long time like my uncle and Grandpa. I cannot be changing. I can only have one wallet.”

I have waited for this day to come…and whether he meant it or not, it was music to my ears. He has been listening all this time. I was very proud of him for being able to put those thoughts together. I still caught on that it was part of his 24/7 obsession with wallets and therefore, by talking about wallets he is probably feeding his need in one way or another. He doesn’t have one on him, but it is forever on his mind. What a strong distraction it is. I am even more proud of him for living with the ups and downs that surround his obsession.

Counting again, ugh!

And we’re off again. Nope, it’s not a trip to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz either. Puppy and I are about to start the counting game again. I’m not looking forward to it, but at least I was able to talk (or rather text) with his teacher and she’s alright with only counting 50 days and not 100 days of good behavior.

And why, you ask are we counting again? Because this past weekend Puppy decided that his wallet was at its worst and he was tired of having to modify it with paper and tape to add pockets for this credit cards. The pockets that had their opening in the wrong direction (vertical, not horizontal) and on the wrong part of the wallet had already been cut and removed by him at one time or another, and now he was just fed up with it and wants to give it up. This happens just about every week. He’ll put it away for a day—or an hour, then pulls it out of his drawer and resets all his cards in it. Then everyone is happy.

But this time he was so upset that he took it upon himself to decide that he did not want to put it away or give it to me to put away, but rather he would throw it in the trashcan outside to make sure it didn’t come back. He wanted the landfill will be its final resting place.  Before I could stop him he was out the door. My first reaction was a sigh of relief. Finally, there was no wallet to distract him. My second reaction was, “WTH!” How was he going to function without it? But it was too late.

I’ll spare you the details of this long, long Saturday and Sunday morning, because by Sunday afternoon he was outside retrieving it from the trash.  And it was “OMG!” The smell was horrendous. I figured it was just the smell from being in the container overnight, so I tried wiping it down with Lysol and stuff. But we didn’t have any luck. It was ready to die, and die we let it. Back into the trashcan it went. Puppy was definitely lost and so confused. He kept repeating how it was his fault and what was he going to do?

His first response was that he would like to have another one…to replace the one he threw away. Um, that’s going back to square one. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Luckily, he has good behavior in school and it’s at home that he tries to manipulate me with total exhaustion of pulling me into a debate of the why and why not’s of getting him a new wallet.

Today is Wednesday, and I’m not sure if I will survive 50 days.

Another bite

On Friday the 4^th, Puppy's class had a field day to unwind from the Olympic events. He watched a movie, went to the gym to relax not exercise and was getting ready to go outdoors for some face painting. But something happened and no one could figure out what. Puppy decided he didn’t feel like being in the gym and bit his hand once more. The teacher aide walked him to the classroom where he threatened to do it again. She held his hands down, and told me it didn’t last long. In minutes he was calm and himself again. However, this kind of behavior calls for him to turn in his wallet, and since his hands were being held, the watch had gotten in the way so it was removed from his arm and taken away as well.

I was suppose to get the two items in my hand at the time I picked him up from after school care, but if he knows I have them, he will likely whine and cry or nag until I give into his tactics. I asked that they hide the items in his backpack and I would return them to him over the weekend when I saw he was remorseful of his actions.

When we got home Puppy turned to his usual substitute, cigarettes. It never helps that we see our neighbor across the street is outside smoking. He started to hunt for paper and tape. We don’t have any tape so glue would have to do. He’s pretty good at making paper boxes similar to a cigarette box. Before he could even get started, Ms. H arrived and he was redirected to telling his story of how his day went and he told what happened in school. She was able to show her disappointment and quickly told him to bring down his dirty laundry so that chores could begin. She and I were surprised that he complied and did as he was told.  I even got pictures of him helping to sort the clothes. He caught me with the phone and asked if I would send to his teacher. This was to prove to her that he was having good behavior and listening to mom. He was already thinking ahead about how he needed to prove he deserved his wallet and watch to be returned.

Later, it was shower time and there were no complaints. He marched right up the stairs and even though he took his time about it, he also complied and shower time was in progress. He came downstairs dressed in pjs and with construction paper and glue in his hands. He sat down beside me and said he was thinking too much about cigarettes and he was going to make a box. I reminded him that we had a “no paper rule” but he didn’t care, his thoughts had taken over.

Being the tattletale that I am,...I texted his teacher and explained what was happening. She simply texted back, “NO PAPER…rules are rules.” I showed him the phone and he read the message himself. “Oh-oh, tell teacher I’m throwing it away.” He tore the paper and threw it in the trashcan.

 

That was the end of it; and then he announced he was tired and going to bed. We kissed good night. And we didn’t hear from him again that night.