I think I may have written this post maybe 4 or 5 times over the past few days, but every time I’d read it back, I’d be unhappy with it so I’d delete it and start again.
I just can’t seem to write out what I need to write about without giving away too many details so I will only say that parenting an almost teenager is on par with raising autistic boys at the moment.
Holy hormones Batman!
Even my Mum has admitted that she didn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff when we were growing up. I guess times have changed and there are a lot more temptations out there for kids these days…sigh…
So yeah….things have totally sucked here. And no, I don’t believe that I’m being melodramatic either.
I have really struggled with guilt because I KNOW that Ella puts up with a helluva lot more than the average 12-year-old but I just can’t help the fact that the boys both require a lot more attention at the moment. So I have been feeling very torn.
And on top of that: it seems that Harley’s OCD has increased AGAIN, and frankly – he’s starting to unnerve me with his ever-increasing rituals.
I can handle the obsessive hand-washing. And even the counting of his steps is something I can learn to live with. But the vocal stimming and the repetitive questions that he needs to hear answered in exactly the same way each and every time – added to the irrational fear that he will cause harm to his family if he doesn’t do what his ‘stomach’ (?) tells him to that it will result in one of us dying….well that about tips me over the edge.
I mean seriously….it is becoming a huge problem for all of us and I’m staring to become unhinged. Its like living with Melvin from that dreadful Jack Nicholson movie “As Good As It Gets” but much much worse.
And he’s only 9.
On a happier note, the boys both survived school photos and a fire drill at school this week with minimal after effects which is wonderful progress as far as I’m concerned!
And I have had my Mum here for the past two weeks so there have been an extra pair of hands to help me which is fantastic – except when they are needed to soothe frazzled children or hug an emotionally distraught Fiona.
But it’s all good.
Just don’t expect a coherent response from me for the next couple of weeks while I settle back into the chaos that is my life. Yep….Mum flies home tomorrow…..
But its okaaaaay…. I’m going to take deep breaths then count to 1 gazillion and then take more deep breaths. If you need me….I’ll be the one in the corner rocking and sucking my thumb!
Nah..just kidding: God will get me through.