I Should Probably Feel Bad About This...

     So, I still feel utterly craptastic.  Not Man Sick, mind you, but still pretty terrible.  And, just for shits and giggles, I also have an ear infection to go along with my Funk.  Yay, good times!  Skeletor is also still sick, which definitely puts a damper on any afore-mentioned good times.  Also for shits and giggles, we are in the middle of trying to implement some ABA awesomeness in our house.  All of this equals super cranky pandas.  Because it's only been a month or so since we got an official diagnosis of autism, we're still in limbo in regards to all the behavioral therapies we need.  (Skeletor has been receiving speech and occupational therapy for over a year now, so we're lucky in that respect.)  We live in a medium sized town, almost smack in the middle of two major cities.  Unfortunately, those two major cities are at least an hour away.  And those two major cities seem to be the only places where we can receive the ABA therapy.  Hence the long waiting lists.  Which leads me to the thing that I should probably feel bad about.  I'm definitely no doctor or therapist, but I can read.  (I know you're shocked.  You should sit down if you are feeling light-headed.)  So, since we're going to be waiting a bit, I've been reading up on ABA.  The somewhat basic gist being you reward good behavior, and ignore bad behavior (within reason.)  And this is what I have started doing.  And Skeletor does not like it one little bit.  In fact, if he knew how to make fire, he would definitely set all of my autism books ablaze.  Despite all of the extra stress (which I know will pay off in the long run,) I have to admit that I got a bit of a chuckle earlier.  As Skeletor sat on the kitchen floor howling and gnashing his teeth because I had the audacity to pick up his toys, it occurred to me.  That is exactly how I feel almost every minute of every day.  Only I don't get to say it.  I don't get to throw things and scream and hit people (other than Captain Gingerbeard, but he's got a sassy mouth.)  And I know that I don't get to do these things because I'm a grown-up...allegedly.  I'm the mommy.  It's my job to not lose my temper.  And although Skeletor is to be granted a little bit of leeway due to the autism, he still has to be taught how to behave, no matter how long it takes.  But hearing him yell out his frustrations today did bring me a bit of levity.  It was kind of good to know somebody else felt the same way I do.  Which may or may not curse me to the deepest, darkest pits.  Aw, crap.  The child just walked up behind me, and ripped the back of my shirt.  Tra-la-la, ignoring it.  I do hope the Captain wasn't particularly fond of it.  I borrowed it from him.

Me.