The Ugly....
I am awakened this dreary Sunday morning by the retching of my almost 15 year old German Shepard/Boxer mix in the vicinity of the Littlest Pet Shoppe/Lego explosion that once was called my living room and Sean yelling "Smokey!"
I feign sleep.....
The Good....
Ashley had a rough time last night and Sean, being the good big brother, either called out to us that she was coughing (she was sleeping with me so we already knew) or one time even came into our room, using the light from his newly acquired video MP3 player to show him the way, to comfort her himself. It was such a sweet moment when he put his arms around her and said, "It's ok Ashley." Awwwww....
The Bad....
Yet another day of fighting through the fog that inhabits my son's autistic brain...
I guess you can call it stimming although I almost never use the "official" words of the autism world. Sean has always had his fidget toys, his hand flapping, his turning in circles, his constant stream of monologues. In the past few years he's even turned to cracking various joints. Oh joy....
As a child, Sean had what I called "baby acne." No big deal. But as his fidget toys have come and gone for various reasons, he realized that his skin stays with him forever. It is one of the ultimate fidget toys. No one can ever take it away from him. Upon his entry into adolescence he began picking at the baby acne on his arms and legs. Again, no big deal and nothing that some Neutrogena, a prescription cream, and constant "mom monitoring" (Sean likes to call it "nagging") could not ease.
However, during the past few months, whether it's been due to the new stresses at home or his new stresses of being integrated or just plain adolescent angst, the picking has gotten out of control. Hundreds and hundreds of marks on his arms. Last night I discovered them on his legs hidden under his shorts.
Hundreds.....
There are times that I sit shocked, sometimes horrified, most times scared as I think of what life must be like for Sean. Why? Why would he do that to himself over and over again? He says he's just getting rid of the bumps. His skin is so marked up, how can he even tell if he has a bump???
Hundreds....
I sit....
Eventually I throw my hands up in the air and walk back into the kitchen. Back into my life.
You talk. You cream. But you have to wonder what is really soaking through....
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