Things you are thinking about tonight, typed up for when you forget:
1. Look for an AAC app for Rob. We could get one of those durable iPad cases with the strap and he could take iPad out into the world and type things to the kids he longs to talk to. We all assumed he can talk enough and he didn’t need AAC, and while that is largely true at home and at school, it is not true at a playground. And your heart will totally shatter watching him stand near the kids, watching them, and not being able to play with the.
Sure, it would be nice if just one fucking regular kid would try to play with him, but that just isn’t going to happen.
2. Try the Visu-clock again. Rob needs to have a grasp on this time thing. Tonight’s complete and total loss of control, going berserk meltdown cannot happen again. It’s a wonder you both weren’t hurt badly. The lad just doesn’t understand 2:30 in the morning. And if that clock turns out to be stupid again, find something else, some other way.
3. Like I told you in the kitchen, you were extraordinary tonight. You handled Rob’s situation so well. Don’t ever forget how, once you got him to stop biting himself and throwing his body through the air, he looked at you and said, I love you, mom. And then, thank you. You just couldn’t take him for the drive at 2:30. The resulting horror was what it was. I get why you usually just take him regardless of the hour.You knew what happened tonight would happen. But you just could not go driving at 2:30. You weren’t awake enough, it really was just too late. And that is okay. Among other things, you are human. And you were brilliant tonight. You helped him, you told him he was safe, that you were taking care of him, that he is precious, that you love him more than everything, and that you will always keep him safe and take care of him. And he thanked you. He actually thanked you. It was a miracle. You were a miracle. Extraordinary work. So much love. So difficult. But you got you both through it. You did.
4. Thanks to all for not cutting our hair. We are doing a great job with that. And thanks for not coloring it so dark any more. Good stuff.
5. You were really interested in the fact that your right leg muscles hurt from running last night but your left leg doesn’t hurt at all. Even though that makes complete sense because of the scootering’s unevenness in leg output, it was still really interesting to you.
6. Buy some spackle.
7. Tomorrow morning, try to feel like a person earlier in the day. Drink coffee faster. You have really been slacking on the caffeine consumption. Heh. Yes, I know that was a goal. But come on. Get moving, get the boy to Flub’s and on an elevator, maybe scooter if he will (we hope!), start the drive as early as you possibly can. I know how hard it is to keep him on track for an entire day. How very Groundhog Day it is. But try.
8. Maybe leave a clue for us when you hide the Ativan from your mom. You are such an awesome hider of things that we often cannot find it.
9. You did a really good job with the positive talking tonight. You comforted us, you praised whomever handled everything. It was beautiful. The self-soothing and praise will help us all. You are the only one we always believe.
10. In the meantime, and in case an AAC app is too expensive, try walking Rob through playing with kids again. I know he loudly insists you leave him alone, but do something. I mean, I know you do. You talk to the kids and tell them Rob’s name. You explain to any nearby parents in hopes one of them would somehow know they are supposed to talk to their kids about playing with special needs kids. They never do, or none have yet. But it could happen.
11. Figure out how to make sure Rob understand not to rub his penis on playground equipment. That doesn’t help matters.
12. Save money next pay period for Crest Whitestrips.
13. You are handling this recent possible diagnosis well. Allow it to simply guide you. You are the sum of your parts.