It is Saturday morning so it is off to the yard we go so they children can have their riding lessons.
My trials start on what should be the simple act of getting dressed for the day. So easy you would think, but no. Not with the boy about.
Hand me down clothes and the boy just don’t work. Clear cut is his life, things have a place and order and this must not change. Presented with a yard top handed down from the girl he states simply ‘thats not mine’ and sets it a side. After repeating this a handful of times I say
‘but, but… it’s too small for the girl, it’s not a ‘girly’ top, look!’ I hold up the offending polo shirt and turn it to show the back.
‘Its not mine, I am not 95!’ he wails.
I try to explain it is just a number, even though I can’t really explain myself why clothing often has seemingly random numbers emblazoned over them, in this case I assume it has something to do with polo but I am not convinced of that myself, 95 seems like rather a high number for a polo team. The boy continues to wail that it isn’t his and he is not 95. Right then. I will get a different top.
We finally move onto the dressing bit. Jodhpurs and alternative T-shirt on (that will go under a jumper and never be seen). The boy pulls something from his Jodhpur pocket
‘I think I found my torch!’ the boy exclaims happily.
I realise that again this isn’t going to end well. The jodhpurs that spent yesterday evening in the wash and then overnight in the dryer. I make the unfortunate connection about why it sounded like there was a brick in the dryer last night. No brick. Just a battery powered torch.
The ‘I don’t have a torch!’ meltdown was quite epic once he discovered that being washed and tumble dried is not a healthy activity for a torch. It is amazing the motivation that a meltdown of a child going through the process of an autistic spectrum diagnosis can bring. Apparently if you are desperate enough to just stop. the. noise. you can resurrect electronics from the dead just enough to give the boy hope that a little more time to dry out the insides. I could, of cause, go and buy a new torch for a couple of pounds but, you see, it wouldn’t he his torch.
The rest of the day has continued with more on the same theme. The routine has shifted slightly and the whole ‘Christmas’ thing is hanging in the air. Difficult time for the boy, unfortunately knowing all this does not give me unlimited reserves of patience and I find myself today looking forward to handing it all over to their Father. I have just about used my whole arsenal on helping the boy through without giving in and allowing him to spend the whole day sitting playing computer games. Hopefully the next few days as we ramp up to the big day will go okay, I have planned to the hilt and gone over every part with the boy, we will get through, we will!
Tonight I start the big wrap. I have smugly had most of my shopping sorted for the last week or so however I have not yet wrapped up a single thing. I have however, come up with a cunning plan. This year Father Christmas is on an eco drive and has decided to cut down on wrapping paper to save some trees so only half of what he shall deliver into stockings (when did a stocking become a great big mail sack?). I think I am onto a winner there, next year he can say it went so well he is doing away with wrapping paper all together!