Monday, 29 April 2013

Broken eggs

I made brownies yesterday. Those who know me well know exactly what that means. I am a stress baker. I do my best to bake stuff that I don't like, because I am also a stress eater. When I make stuff like fudge, or brownies, or cookies, it means I have given up, given in, and am going to have a 10000 calorie day because I suck and I am going to be old, fat, and miserable.
Yeah, that kind of day.
To avoid more massive meltdowns and to keep him under supervision, I had the Monkey helping me. I do try to have fun with it a bit, even if his help mainly consists of adding extra flour and sugar to whatever I am making while I attempt to block, or flapping and hooting with mad joy when I turn on the mixer. This time he added egg cracking to his repertoire, and I picked shells out of the batter. Good times.
I sent him off at last with a beater (Yeah, I know, raw eggs, sugar, all that crap. He licks the floor next to the toilet at the mall too. He is building up his immune system. Shut up.) I cleaned up and put the pan in the oven, poured another cup of coffee and licked the other beater, and bawled my pathetic stupid eyes out.
I always wanted to bake with my kid. I loved it when I was little, and I love the picture of me and my mom baking cookies and making a mess. I love the memories of licking bowls and beaters (apparently they didn't have salmonella or e coli or whatever the hell else we risk these days).
The picture falls a little short of the reality with Monkey. He doesn't hold still that long. Given a chance he will dump all the containers of flour, sugar, milk and whatever else he can get a hold of into a big messy pile. He will eat handfuls of margarine and butter (ugh) and crush eggs in his hands.
 That's my little sensory seeker.
On good days, I can clean up the mess, even smile at his flour covered self and take a picture. Yesterday wasn't such a good day.
He had already had a shower and two baths because he kept removing his diaper or underwear to urinate on his carpet and roll in it, and he had a poop smearing incident that the hubby caught just in time, while it was still confined to just the carpet and himself. It was disheartening after a relatively promising start to his ongoing toilet training regimen, peeing in the toilet with very little encouragement that morning. That was the last cooperative moment of the weekend though.
I can't explain why this hit me so hard yesterday. I just wanted to enjoy the moment, but I couldn't pull away from the frustration and pain.
I know springtime is a frustrating time with our ASD kids, I'm told that regression in behaviour is "normal" in the spring. I just feel so helpless. It feels like any progress we make is pointless, and some new unpleasant or dangerous impulse is immanent even when he is having a good time. He is head banging and punching tile floors again, the bruises and scrapes break my heart to see. He kicks and hits and head butts me until I sport the same bruises and scrapes. Then he just repeats "sorry mummum lub you mummum, sorry mummum" over and over as he huddles under his blanket.
How do I parent here? How do I keep him safe from himself, and keep his sister and me safe from him? How do I watch him closely enough that in the 3 minutes it takes me to change the Kitten's diaper he doesn't somehow shed his undies and spread feces on every toy and surface of his bedroom?
Never mind, I have lots of advice on solutions and strategies and goals and charts and all that to look at. I have tried and crossed off the list many unsuccessful methods, and failed to be consistent enough with others. Sometimes I wonder if I am even close to capable of being a mom, especially to a special needs kid. I want to be the best mom I can be, but maybe my best isn't enough.


  1. You made brownies with your son even though he makes a mess. That, my friend, is a GREAT mom. Hang in there, this too shall pass.

    1. I agree with homestyle mama. Baking with an kid is a blessing, but baking with a special needs kiddo isn't easy. Regardless of that, you did it. A pat on the back and hugs to the AUSOME mama, that you are!!!

  2. Yep, you didn't shy away from doing something that you knew would be a challenge. That is an accomplishment. Try to go easy on yourself, you're doing the best you can.

  3. baking with your little guy - yeah... that's pretty capable in my book! <3

  4. I won't even let my kid pour the cheese in the macaroni right now. He's still on probation from the last time. Cheese powder up noses is all I'm going to say. So, yeah, you rock motherhood's socks off.