Shower Memories

When I went to Ethan's group home yesterday to pick him up, he was just getting out of the shower. They had to dry him off and get him dressed before we could go. My first thought was how glad I am that I no longer have to do that every night. Then my thoughts drifted to some of Ethan's more memorable shower incidents.

When he was nine, after I had finished scrubbing him down I let him stay and enjoy that water for a while. One evening he came strolling into the kitchen, naked and sopping wet, dripping water all over the floor. He went to the paper towel rack, pulled off a couple of paper towels, and started drying himself.

Intrigued, I went to the bathroom to see if I could figure out why he was doing it this way. When I got there I saw that the clean towels were still on top of the washer. I had forgotten to hang them. I was impressed at his creativity.

There was another incident around that time that was memorable but not fun. I was in the living room when I heard a loud thud coming from the bathroom. I ran in to see what was going on, and Ethan was lying on his back in the bathtub. When I tried to get him up he didn't move. For a brief moment I considered the absolutely terrifying thought of Ethan as quadriplegic. Then I saw that his whole body was shaking; he was having a seizure. I've never been so relieved by a seizure in my life.

Later that same year I came in to find that he had dumped half a bottle of shampoo out on the floor and was 'skating' back and forth on the linoleum. It was fascinating to watch but it took a long time to clean up.

And then came the most terrifying bathroom memory of all. My house has a very small bathroom. One day Ethan had a seizure and managed to fall into the tight space between the tub and the toilet. His seizure was strong enough that he had pulled the toilet out of the floor. In the process the water line came off, and there was water on the floor that he was laying face down on. I was profoundly relieved that it happened when it did. I was just about to go mow the back long and wouldn't have been able to hear it. God only knows how that would have turned out.

 

Grass Obsession

I let Ethan play in the back yard for a while before we went to church this weekend.  When I went to tell him it was time to go, he had two huge handfuls of grass.  Taking grass and shredding it to tiny pieces, then watching them flutter to the ground is perhaps his very favorite pass time.

When new people start working with Ethan the one thing I always warn them about is grass.  Do not try to take grass away from him.  That has prompted several of the very few aggressive behaviors in Ethan over the last 15 years.

Typically if he is out on the back yard playing with grass, I lead him toward the sliding glass door, and he will throw whatever grass he has over the fence into the neighbor's yard and then be ready to go.  We were running a little late so I decided to skip that part and we just went out the side gate.

That turned out to be a mistake.  Without lingering for a few minutes, Ethan wasn't ready to throw the grass over the fence.  He slowly shredded it as we walked.  When we got to church he still had a lot of   grass.  So we waited outside the church entrance and missed the first 5-8 minutes of Mass so he could finish shredding.

But I stuck to the rule and didn't try to take it from him.  He and I have got each other fairly well trained.  He mostly does what I tell him to do.  And I mostly don't tell him to do things he doesn't want to do.

Obession

I had Ethan at my house this weekend.  He did his usual obsessive behaviors.  He opened the kitchen cabinets touch all the glasses, making tiny adjustments to get them in just the right place.  He did the same thing in the bathroom.  It got me thinking about how long he's been doing some variant of this. 

I remember it going all the way back to toddler-hood.  When he was maybe 18 months old, before we (tried) putting him down to sleep, he would take a bottle while watching a Sesame Street video.  The very last thing he did before going into his room was take the bottle and put it in the kitchen sink.

And God help us all if it rolled to far under the tv shelf for him to reach.  That reliably produced a major meltdown. He couldn't calm down until we got the bottle, gave it to him, and let him put it in the sink.  It didn't count if his mom or I did it.  It had to be him.

He still has that obsessive need.  But 23 years later he doesn't have meltdowns about it any more.  Which I will count as progress.

Grasping at Dust

Ethan was very happy at church today, lots of smiles and giggles, which always makes me feel good.  He made a motion I didn't recognize over and over.  He'd reach out with his left hand and make a grabbing gesture with it, then bring it close and open his palm and look at it like he expected to find something.  There was bright sunshine coming into the row of pews ahead of us. I think he was looking at the motes of dust of visible in that ray of light and trying to grab one.

Taking Ethan to the Doctor

Something that happens occasionally when I take Ethan to appointments with the education, social service or medical systems is that they are really impressed by something I do that I don't think is all that impressive.  When I knew that valium was a benzodiazepine, one of his neurologists asked me if I was a medical professional.  I remember talking the on-call neuro resident at Children's Hospital who was really impressed when rattled of the names and dosages of Ethan meds and twice told her, no, Ethan doesn't that one anymore.  My reaction is always, well of course I know what his meds are.

Another neurologist said "wow, he's really compliant with you."  Again, my reaction was well of course he does what I tell him to do.  What else would he do?

Or the social worker with DVR (Division of Vocational Rehabilitation) who seemed almost shocked that I arrived at the appointment with all of the paperwork filled out.  I was a little shocked at the idea that everyone doesn't arrive with the paperwork filled out.

Or the school district sign language teacher being thrilled that I showed up for Ethan's sign language lesson's so that I could learn what he was learned.  That one didn't surprise me so much.  I know that I have an unusually flexible job. Lots of people can't leave work mid-morning for an hour every Wednesday like I did.

I am profoundly thankful that I was able to do all these things for my son.  I am also profoundly grateful that non-profit that runs Ethan's group home now does a lot of this and it doesn't all rest on my shoulders anymore.

Proud of the Man My Son Has Become

I was telling a friend recently about my son Ethan's annual assessment with DDD.  There was a representative from his group home who took part.  He described how mellow and easy going Ethan is, how he will eat whatever food is on his plate, how they love having him there.

I remember writing on my blog many years ago about the profound losses I felt after Ethan was diagnosed with autism.  Ethan is 25 and does not speak.  He is not fully toilet trained and needs help with most activities of daily life.  He'll never live on his own; he will always require supervision, especially with his seizure disorder.

One of the things that I said I had lost was getting to watch him grow up into the kind of man that I would be proud to have raised.  As I was talking with my friend, I remembered writing about that loss.  And discovered that Ethan has in fact grown up to be a man that I am proud to have raised.  I am proud that Ethan gets along well with his caregivers, that they enjoy having him around.  I think that Ethan enjoys being with them also.

There were a lot of things that I expected to get from moving Ethan into his group home.  The ability to go out for the evening if I wanted to.  Freedom from having to manage all his medical needs--the group home has a medical coordinator who makes all of Ethan's health care appointments, transports him to the appoint, takes care of all his medication refills, and after every appointment sends us a detailed summary of the visit.  Freedom from have to wipe his butt every day, and brush his teeth, and clip his fingernails, and on and on and on.  

I did not expect to that I would get to feel pride in who Ethan has grown to be.  But I did, and that is a precious gift. 

Almost Done

Last week my girlfriend (henceforth referred to as MGF) and I went to Middle Son's school and met with his teacher and para for a bit over an hour.  We set the meeting up because next week will be Middle's last ever week of school.  He aged out last year, then we got pandemic recovery time for him which got him another semester this year.  And that semester ends on February 2nd.

I felt very distressed during and after the meeting.  I choked up a multiple times.  For most kids the end of high school is a chance to move on to bigger and better things, more autonomy over their lives, acquiring new skills in the workplace or in higher education.  Their world expands.

I think, I fear, that Middle's world is going to contract.  For nineteen years he's gone to school.  A place where he was cared for.  A place where he had the opportunity to interact with other people, a place where he got to experience more of the world than my house and his mom's.  And next week, that will be gone.

We've been preparing for this.  MGF has plans to take him to the Senior Center for lunch on a regular basis.  They both like movies, so we've bought them movie passes so they can go see every movie that looks interesting.  His mom has been looking into classes at the Alyssa Burnett Center, which has programs for adults with autism.  But it's going to be tough to replace the 25+ hours a week he goes to school.

I worry about how taking care of him is going to impact us.  MGF says that she feels called to do the work of caring for him.  She will be taking on the lion's share the additional caregiving duty.   I worry about how it will effect her.  I worry about how it will effect our relationship. She suffers from chronic fatigue and sometimes struggles to keep up with the smaller caregiving role that she is already doing.  I won't be able to shoulder much of the additional load. The time that he used to go to school is during the hours that I have to work.  If I can't work all the balls I have in the air will come crashing down around me, so I have to do that.

We talked with them about some areas where they have seen Middle regressing in the past couple of months.  They think it started around the time that he had a bad seizure at school.  They said that he doesn't understand things that he used to understand and he gets confused and agitated more often.  I'm wondering if that seizure was bad enough to have caused some brain damage.  That's a hard thought.  Especially since I had missed some of his meds the day before he had that seizure.  It's hard enough thinking that he may have had a permanent loss of ability, but when I wonder if I could have prevented it by giving him his meds, that's really hard.

I teared up.  When his teacher asked me what the emotion was about, I said that I was projecting forward.  She said that she thinks Middle has strengths that would enable him to be successful in a group home.  He's generally happy.  When he understands what is being asked of him he is generally compliant.

That reminded me of a conversation I had with my therapist last week.  I've talked with her about my long-term concerns for Middle.  At some point MGF and I won't be able to take care of him and when I've tried to get in touch with groups homes to talk about a placement for Middle, not only do they not return my calls, they don't even answer their phones.  My therapist  told me she had spoken with a couple of colleagues who were very knowledgeable about the adult autism space.  She said the first question that both of them asked was if I was willing to relocate.  Apparently Washington State now ranks 47th out of the 50 states in per-capita funding for services related to developmental disabilities.  The last time I heard the number if was 45th, but that was over a decade ago.  Sad to see that we've fallen even further behind.

As we were getting ready to leave his teacher said again how happy she was that we were thinking about a routine for Middle and how to make the transition from school to not-school easier for him.  She said most parents don't do that.  I choked up again and said that makes me so sad to hear.

There are times when I feel like I'm letting Middle down with decisions that I made, like when I agreed with his mom to move him out of the Riverview School District (where I live) into the Lake Washington School District (where she lives).  LWSD's transition program was very focused on work.  Getting kids ready for jobs and finding internships and jobs in the community that they could do.  When the pandemic hit they couldn't do any of their normal activities because no one was taking on interns.  Even when school started back up, no one was accepting their kids as interns.  I moved him back to Riverview.  RSD's program was focused on building basic life skills, things like being able to get his own snacks, comb his hair, and run the vacuum cleaner.  I never saw results of what he was learning in Lake Washington.  It's been clear to me what he's learned in Riverview.  I wish now that I had not moved him out of Riverview.

Then I think about all the times when people have been so excited and impressed at my awareness of and participation in Middle's life.  Like the nurse who was so impressed that I knew not only what meds he takes, but the times and the dosages, as well as how to call the on-call resident if we needed after hours help.  Or how excited the sign language teacher was that I came to the school on Tuesday mornings when she was there so that I could learn along with Middle.  How grateful his teacher in 3rd grade was when I came in with a lunch of peanut butter and fresh fruit rather than the processed food that his mother was sending.  A special ed teacher I dated for a while who told me that most parents of her students barely engaged with the school at all.  My friend from the Father's Network who told our support group "I noticed that Pete actually talks to his kids.  I decided I'd try that, and it worked great!"  How my church choir director makes she that she has an ice cream bar for Middle at every rehearsal.

When I think about those things, I'm astounded.  When Middle was diagnosed, I would not have thought I was capable of doing all the things that I've done for him.  I've taught Middle how to see and been seen by other people.  How to listen and hear what people say.  How to engage with the people in his life.  I remember going to a lecture or maybe reading something about parents of kids with disabilities.  It said that some parents shy away from the disability.  Others embrace it and grow.  I grew.

Schools Again

 I had two noteworthy conversations about school yesterday.  One was with Oldest Son.  He has decided to sign up for a coding boot camp.  If he makes it through, he would likely be able to find a job where he could afford to move out of MomC's house.  That would good, and probably make everyone happier.

The second conversation was less positive.  Youngest hasn't been going to school.  MomC says "I just can't get him to get out of bed and go to school."  Which blows my mind.  I have a really hard time comprehending how she can't get him to do this.  As a general statement, he does what I tell him to do without fighting about it.

She called me to talk about it and see if I had ideas.  She also wanted to talk about what we're going to say when we meet with his school counselor later this week.  He's racked up a huge number of absences and tardies now and the school wants to talk about it.

I told her I didn't have any magic tricks.  I tell him to get up and he gets up.  Sometimes I tickle him a little.  She said she'd tried that, but it doesn't work.  Then I brought up the idea of him coming to live with me.  She's not reacted well to that suggestion in the past.  

This time was different.  She said that then he'd have to change schools.  Which is true.  We live in different school districts.  She said she wasn't sure about the middle school in my district.  My school district doesn't have as much money as hers does, and she's kind of a snob about it.  My response was that a school he actually goes to will be better than a school he doesn't go to.  She said she wasn't sure about that, which boggled my mind.

Then she said something really interesting.  "Then I could sell my house."  She is currently unemployed but has a huge amount of equity built up in her house.  She could live for years off the profit from the house and take a low stress, low pay job.

Which would mean youngest would be coming to life with me indefinitely.  I have mixed feelings about it.  I think he'd be better off living with me.  I'm less sure that I'd be better off with him living with me.  Taking care of Middle Son, I skate pretty close to the edge of what I can cope with.  I have a complicated emotional response to that.  Part of me feels guilty/insecure/insufficient.  Then I remember what Middle's Dr. said to me the last time I took him in--"if it seems hard, that's because it is hard."

New School

I'm back again, and planning to make it a more regular occurrence. 

This week I moved Middle Son back to the school district that I live in.  After Second Wife and I got divorced, I let MomC (Mother of my Children) talk me into moving him into the school district where she lived.  Her district has more money and resources.  She, like most people, assumed that that meant it would be a better program for Middle.  I was skeptical.  Second Wife had blown my mind by pointing out  that Middle's ability to consume educational resources is limited, and Middle's ABA therapist had said she thought Middle should go to school in the community where he was going to live after he got out of school, which is with me.  But having just gone through a divorce, I didn't have the energy to argue with her about it, and the logic that a district with more money is a "better" district had it's impact on me too.

Yesterday, the first morning, I walked Middle onto the bus.  The driver told him to sit in seat 7.  I told her that Middle doesn't know his numbers and helped him find the correct seat.  He had a little trouble with the seatbelt, so I helped him with that as well.

When he got back the first thing he did, even before taking off his coat, was sit down at the dinner table.  I opened his backpack and found that he hadn't eaten any of his lunch, so I got him food.  He ate a lot.

Today I stood on the porch while he got on the bus.  After school he still went to the table, but he didn't seem as hungry.  When I checked his lunch he had eaten most of it.

One of the interesting things they do is weekly shopping trips.  They cook breakfast and lunch in the classroom every day, and each kid is responsible for coming up with their menu plan, food budget, and shopping list.  They go shopping on the first Monday of the month.  I think this is a pretty cool thing, and am eager to see how Middle does with it.  Given his very limited communication, they asked me to send them a list of foods for breakfast, lunch, and snack.  It will be interesting to hear about they make a list with Middle and how the first shopping trip goes.  I told them that Middle expects to get a donut every time he goes to the store, so they are going to plan for that.

Go with Mom

Today MomC and I took Middle Son to an appointment at the Department of Vocational Rehabilitation.  His School-to-Work transition program is partially funding by DVR and they needed us to come in and take care of some paperwork.

I had brought in the paperwork that we got in advance.  The case walker thanked me more than once for being so thorough when I filled it out.  It brought that feeling I get when Dr.'s are impressed that I know the names, dosages, and timings of all the medications that Middle takes.  It seems like that should be normal, not impressive.

MomC brought him to the appointment.  Was at her house last night and today because they are on mid-winter break (she's at teacher).  When we left, Middle started walking to my car.  His mom told him to come with her and he kept going towards my car.  I had to tell him three times and then finally give him a little push to get him to go with her.

I always feel bad for both of them when that happens.  But especially for her.  When Youngest Son wants to stay at MomC's house instead of coming to mine, there is an obvious explanation.  He wants to go hang out with his friends, or stay home and play with his dog.  He absolutely loves dogs, has since he was a toddler.

But Middle doesn't want to do that.  He mostly stays in his room and watches TV at my house and at hers.  The explanation that comes to mind, is that he likes being with me better than her.  Now that I think about it though, there is another possible explanation.  He doesn't want to be with his younger brother, who is usually at his mom's house.

I'm glad I thought of that.  It makes me feel a little better.

A Break in the Rain

We've had rain here in the Seattle area.  LOTS of rain.  So much rain that two rivers had stage 4 flood warnings.  As it happens, those to rivers merge less than a mile from my house.  I was nervous about it over the weekend.  I packed up a bug-out bag in case we had to leave in a hurry.

Yesterday, we had some glorious sun.  Middle Son was frantic to get outside.  One of his favorite things to do in the whole world is shred grass.  When it is pouring rain, he's not very interested in going outside.  He doesn't like to wear a hood or a hat, and he doesn't like getting his head wet.  When the sun came out, he wanted to be out there shredding.  Sunday morning when I got up, he was sitting at the table with his shoes and coat on.  On the way home from church (it's only three blocks away, so we walk) he grabbed a handful of grass when we got close to our house and shredded it on the porch.

After lunch, he came to me again with his coat and shoes on.  I let him out in the back yard.  He stayed there, merrily shredding away, until I brought him in as it was getting dark.  His hands were filthy--he was pulling up mud with every clump of grass that he grabbed.

It was nice to see he doing something that he gets so much satisfaction from, even if it is weird to my eyes.

Feeling Social

Last week Middle Son was unusually social with me.  He came and sat down next to me on the couch several times, which he rarely does.  He also appeared to be interested in the game that I was playing on my laptop.  He pointed at the screen and tried to touch things more than once.  I tried to help him touch the right controls for the game, but he wasn't that social.

Dungeons and Dragons

About a year ago Youngest Son started getting interested in D&D.  MomC called me one day and told me that "Youngest is dying to play D&D with you."  It turned out that his best friend was setting up a game, and Youngest wanted to use my Player's Handbook.  When he got to my house he said he was going to watch a YouTube video on how to make a character.

He seemed very impressed when I told him that I knew how to make characters and I could help him.  We spent most of the day making characters.  It reminded me of when Oldest discovered role playing games.

He didn't have friends to play with (being on the spectrum, he had a hard time making friends), so we played.  The first game we played was the Star Wars RPG.  His character was an Ewok.  Our very first game, he was crawling around in the air ducts of an Imperial base.  I had him fall out of the ducts into the dining hall and land in a big bowl of mashed potatoes.  It made a big mess and started a food fight.

Good times.

Dodged a Bullet

Wife 2 and I got divorced about 18 months ago.  I got something in the mail last week that, once again, confirmed my decision.

Wife 2's younger daughter has type 1 diabetes.  During the time we together, Younger was a regular visitor to the ER.  She was hospitalized multiple times.  I have been fortunate enough to have excellent medical insurance last dozen years.  I did go through some times of crappy insurance in the early '00s.  So her episodes were not a major financial burden.

Younger got some mail at my house last week.  It turned out to be a collection notice.  She owes Overlake Hospital about $1600.  I assume it was an ER visit.

If Wife 2 and I were still together, we would almost certainly be helping out with that bill.

Since we are not, I dodged that bullet.

Apples and Oranges

Last night, Middle Son was hungry when we got home.  Dinner wasn't going to be ready for a while.  I gave him an apple and encouraged him to eat it multiple.  He just sat there with it.  Eventually I cut it up into quarters.  He snarfed it up.  He was still hungry, so I gave him an orange.  That he ate whole, the way most people would eat an apple.

Many are the Mysteries of Middle.

Going to School

Youngest Son "missed the bus" yesterday.  We thought he was at school.  Then the school's automated attendance system called to report him absent.  As a teacher, MomC can't just leave to go deal with problems.  I can.  So I'm the lucky one who gets to go get Youngest and take him to school.

It's become a significant problem this year.  Most weeks I've had to get him and take him to school at least once, often twice.  And he isn't doing homework.

Some days MomC can't get him to get out of bed.  I've never had him refuse to get out of bed.  It reminds me of when Oldest Son was in Middle School.  MomC would call because she couldn't get him out of bed.  She said she even tried pouring ice water on him.  I could get him out of bed over the phone--I didn't even need to be at her house.

MomC is ok with having him spend nights at my house as a consequence--if Youngest doesn't get up on Monday, then he has to spend the night at my house on Thursday.  Monday's and Friday's are the most likely days for him to try and stay home.  If he's at my house, he doesn't give me as much trouble as he gives his mom.  MomC doesn't want him to change his residence to living with me--I've brought it up occasionally, and a few months ago she asked me to stop bringing it up.  It made her feel like I thought she was incompetent and I was a super-parent who could fix her mess.  Which is not exactly wrong.  It is a significant exaggeration.

I'm not crazy about staying at Dad's house being a consequence for misbehavior.  I think (I hope) his big objection to coming to my house is that he doesn't get to be with his beloved dog Soldier.  I'm not interested in having Soldier at my house.  He's not been trained well and is wild.

I think that overall Youngest would be better off living with me.  MomC would fight that tooth and nail.  Frankly, I don't think it would be good for me to have Youngest living with me right now.  I'm better than I was six months ago, but still somewhat fragile/frail in terms of my ability to cope with life. 

When you are struggling to stay afloat, you shouldn't pick up another rock.

Back Again

It's been several years since I posted anything.  Not for lack of things to post.  My Beloved Wife and I got divorced about a year and a half ago.  Back in May, at the strong urging of my manager, I went out on disability leave for depression.  I was out for six months.  I've been back now for two months.

One of the things that I realized while I was out was that I can't keep caring for Middle Son at this level of intensity.  Since My Beloved Wife became ex-wife number two (hereafter referred to as Wife 2) I've been taking care of Middle all by myself.  No paid or unpaid caregivers.  Just me.  Mostly it's manageable, but sometimes it manifestly IS NOT manageable.

I've do a little bit of investigation to find an external placement for him.  No luck so far.  Everyplace (except one) required that residents be able to do things like call 911 or manage their own medications, which Middle can't do.  The one that doesn't have requirements that he can't meet is in Vancouver, Washington.  Vancouver is about four hours away.  And it doesn't take Medicaid.  So that one is out too.  I don't want Middle so far away that I can't visit on weekdays.  And I can't afford to pay out of pocket.

Oldest Son is doing well.  He's working at a grocery store and seems to be happy with the work.  He was employee of the month in November and was very proud about that.  He started an architecture and design program at the local technical college this fall and is in his second quarter.  It seems to be going ok.  MomC says he really wants to move out of her house, and asked if I'd be able to help.  I can help some, but I'm not doing it unless he asks me directly.  He will need a roommate.  I'm not going to subsidize him enough to have his own apartment.

Youngest Son started Middle School this year.  He is having a hard time.  He doesn't want to go to school, especially on Monday and Friday, which are the days that they run in PE.  He says school makes him really sad.  This weekend he told me that he feels sad more often than not.  :-(  He started seeing a therapist last week.  We've met with the school counselor.  MomC asked what she thought might be going on.  We were thinking that maybe he is being bullied in PE.  The counselor said there are so many possible causes that it wasn't worth speculating.  She talked to the PE teachers and they were not able to identify any specific problem.

Middle has moved to the "Transition Academy" at school now that he has finished his senior year of high school.  The program that he's in is focused on figuring out what kind of work he is capable of and might enjoy doing, then finding him a paying job.  The program that he is in is all kids on the lower end functionally/developmentally.  It is expected that they will always need to have a job coach around to keep an eye on them.  The staff says he is doing well and it probably won't be difficult to find him a job.  One of the places that they go is a place that does horse riding therapy, and he seems to enjoy sweeping up there.  It doesn't surprise me.  He rakes leaves with great vigor and joy.  Although it's difficult to keep him pointed in the right direction.  He did a great job of spreading out mulch the last time I put mulch down.

More posts to follow.

Bedtime Routine

Middle Son's bedtime routine starts at 8:30.  I give him his night time medicine.  We brush his teeth and shave his face.  Then it's time for his shower.  I scrub him with a loofa, then I give it to him and let him scrub and enjoy the warm water for a while. After a little time, I rinse him off and he gets out.  I dry his back for him.

Middle has always been prompt dependent.  He has to be told to close the shower curtain.  He has to be told to hang up his towel.  He has to be told to pick up his dirty clothes and put them in his laundry basket.

A month or so ago, I started fading out of the room after drying his back.  I wanted to see if he what he would do if I didn't give him any instructions.  I would walk out and partially close the door.  Every few minutes I'd peak in to see what he was doing.  I discovered that if I waited long enough, 10-12 minutes, he finish drying himself.  He would close the shower curtain.  He would pick up his dirty clothes and put them in his laundry basket.

Now most nights he will do everything without prompting.  Sometimes he will forget one of his tasks.  Most commonly, he doesn't get all of his dirty clothes out of the bathroom and I have to tell him to go back in and get a dirty sock.

It feels very slow.  I have to remind myself to give him time.  As he does so often, Middle reminds me that patience is a great virtue.

Thumbnails

Middle Son has never liked having his fingernails clipped.  As he has gotten bigger and stronger (he's now 5'8", 175 lbs, and very strong) its gotten harder and harder.  About a year ago, I gave up on using a nail clipper on his thumbs and pointer fingers.  He struggled to much.  I was worried that I would end up getting a finger broken.  I switched to using file.  I continued to use clippers on the other fingers.  For some reason Middle doesn't object as strongly to that.

Also about a year ago, we started doing ABA therapy again with him.  Unlike virtually every other employer, Microsoft's benefits package includes specific coverage for ABA.  On of the things that I told them I wanted to work on was using fingernail clippers.

Wednesday night, Middle allowed me to use the clippers on his thumbnails and one pointer finger.  I was very excited to see the progress.

School

Yesterday, just as I was arriving at work, I got a call from the Mother of my Children.

Oldest Son is living at her house full time since he graduated from high school.  MomC is now working as a substitute teacher, so she has to be out of the house early in the morning.  We're paying Oldest to get Youngest Son to school in the morning.

She told me that Oldest had called.  Youngest had said he was sick and didn't want to go to school and they were arguing.  She said that Oldest was yelling and Youngest was crying and saying Oldest had hurt him, and she wasn't sure everyone was safe.  She wanted me to go see what was happening.  I said I would go check.

When I got there I asked them what was going on.  They both started talking.  I stopped them and told Youngest to tell me first.  He said he was sick and couldn't go to school.  He said Oldest had picked him up out of bed.  He said Oldest had grabbed him by the arms.  His arms and back hurt.

I had him show me his arms.  There were no bruises.  There were no red marks.  I told him he was ok.  He said it really hurt.  I said it was like getting hit by a soccer ball, or falling off his skateboard.  It hurt now, but it would be fine.

I had Oldest tell me his side of the story.  He said Youngest wouldn't do what he was told, and he got mad at him.

I turned back to Youngest.  I told him that he was not going to be the one to decide if he was too sick to go to school.  Neither was Oldest.  If he was sick he need to call me or MomC and talk to us.  We would decide if he could stay home or go to school.  And if we told him to go to school, he would go to school without arguing.  If we told he to go to school and he didn't, I'd come over again, and that wouldn't be good.  I asked him to tell me what the rule was, and he repeated it back to me--if he felt sick he had to call me or his mom.  We would decide.  I asked if he would follow this rule, and he said yes.

Then I turned to Oldest and went through the same thing.  I also told him that he would not pick up Youngest or grab him.  I said I knew he wouldn't intentionally hurt he brother, but that he is big and strong, and when he is irritated or angry he forgets how strong he is and could accidentally hurt someone.  I asked him if he would follow this rule, and he said yes.

It was now 5 minutes after school starts, so I sent Youngest off.

I stayed a few minutes and talked to Oldest.  He said the problem is that Youngest won't do what Oldest tells him to do.  I asked him if he does what MomC tells him.  He said yes, eventually, but MomC isn't really in charge of him, she's only in charge of the house.  I said he lives in her house, and she pays all his bills (except the ones I pay), so she is in charge.  Then I said that she's told me she asked him to help around the house and he doesn't.

I asked if him if, when he was in Boy Scouts, there had been older Scouts who he wanted to be like.  He said there were.  I told him that little brothers are like that--they want to be like their big brothers.  If his brother sees that Oldest doesn't do what he's told by his mom, then he will think he doesn't need to do what he's told by Oldest.  He said he'd never thought of that.

Then it got really interesting.  He asked me if I thought MomC was easier on Youngest than she'd been on the other two.  I started to say yes, then thought better of it.  I said it could be that she is.  But I don't see MomC and Youngest together very often, so I'm not the right person to answer that question.  His aunt or his cousin would be better.  He said that she (his aunt) agrees with him on that.

We talked about the fact that Middle Son usually does what I tell him to do.  He often ignores what MomC tells him.  I've always been careful about what I tell Middle to do.  If he doesn't do something I tell him to do, I will take him by the hand and lead him through doing it.  Over the years, he's realized that when I tell him to do something, we are going to do it whether he likes it or not.  MomC never established that with him, so Middle feels free to ignore her.