Confession: Raising an autistic, defiant son is hard. Every weekday morning, when I wake up, I get myself a cup of hot coffee. I make it just right and sit on the couch enjoying each sip. I constantly watch the clock. I know I have to wake LJ up by 6:30 in order to start the daily battle of getting him ready for school. I dread this. Every weekday morning; I dread this. I've tried waking him calmly and slowly. I've tried waking him quickly and standing him on his feet before he can realize I'm waking him. I've tried being sweet. I've tried being forceful. I've tried schedules and rewards. I've tried everything. No matter what, the mornings are the same. If I don't dress him, then he walks around with his pajamas on all morning. He's only interested in eating. I try to help him get dressed and all the while he's yelling, jumping around, pulling the covers back over him in an attempt to go back to sleep. Most days I finally get him dressed and then make him take his meds. This morning, I gave up. He's got his jeans on and one sock. I walked into the bathroom, slipped to the floor and cried. I can't take it anymore. And the tears came knowing it didn't matter if I wanted to give up; I couldn't. I know I have to do this all over again tomorrow. And the next day and the next.
It's now 6:56. The only thing he's accomplished is getting his jeans and one sock on, eating a pop-tart and taking his meds. We leave in 25 minutes and it'll take all of that to finish getting myself ready, pack a lunch, finish getting him dressed and ready to go and getting out the door.
ETA: I was going to go back and edit this before posting, but I decided to just post as is. I figure going back and reading exactly what I was feeling at the time would be better for me.
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