Yes dude you’re drawing monkeys, and I had to order the bath mat online

It’s time to get real. I am genuinely curious what it feels like to live with the normal (not even sure how that is calculated) worry of raising a teen(s)?

Mr. Mason has been idling at a 12 the last few weeks. His energy is turned up and he is generally just more. He is up and down, he is pacing, he follows closely, he is insistent on you repeating what he says so he’ll keep saying it louder and louder and even get in your face until you say it back then he’ll chill for a moment and sit down again. 

I’d like to say that most of time I have the patience for this and maybe I do but this week has been a test. My mind is racing on a loop too so my brain and my body are already at capacity for negative self-talk that my patience is thin.

I hate this part!!! I love this young man and sometimes really don’t like him at the same time. I want life to look different for him. Which in turn makes it look different for me. He’s my bonus baby and there are times I feel slighted. I want to be able to get up and go and not have to worry about having medicine and bags and extra everything. I want to have my biggest worry be his math grade or who he likes in school, if he makes the baseball team…the stuff “normal” families worry about. 

Instead I’m in a constant state of worry about where is he (he’s big boy and doesn’t know where his body is in time and space), what is he doing (if it’s too quiet he’s up to no good, if it’s too noisy he may break something unintentionally), how is he perceiving his surroundings, how is the world perceiving him (I will throat punch the person with a judgy look in their face…or at least think about it).

Yesterday, Mason was chill (for Mason) - drawing pictures. Autism = drawing the same picture on the same sheet of paper, in the same place until you have a hole in the paper. Each time saying “I draw monkeys” note: this is what it sounded like to me, he may have actually said something else, but I know monkeys was in there and I choose to believe that he was telling me what he was doing.

Each time he said “I draw monkeys” it got louder and louder until I said it back. Finally, I snapped back, yelling “dude! Yes, you’re drawing monkeys, and they are awesome!”

Immediately, I regretted yelling. Happy Mason is the best Mason, but it also means it can be exhausting, and I just reached my limit this weekend. My head hurt and I was focused on house chores, Charlotte worries, and packing for a work trip. 

To reset, we went to Target. We get out of the house and I get to walk the aisles. I needed get some items for my trip, and a bathmat for the new bathroom (which is almost done but there is “no timeframe for completion because that’s not how home renovation projects work”). I figured Target would let me know what else I needed. Throughout the trip, Mason was moving slower than dial up and I started to lose my patience again. Not to mention, he wouldn’t stop making noise. I sensed Luke’s frustration too so I’m not sure why I was surprised to hear him say he ordered the bathmat online as I stood there looking and thinking about the 3 mat options I had laid out on the floor.  All the way to Target and we don’t even get the bathmat. Oy vey.

After getting home I knew the Target trip didn’t achieve the desired result, so I was again figuring out where my reset button was. One of my favorite activities with Mason is cutting his hair. It sounds so silly because it is something I imagine others take for granted. Actually, I bet most parents don’t even cut their own kids' hair but it has been a battle with Mason. The sound, the feeling, the probity of the clippers to his ears, the fact he would have to remove his headphones to get the job done. 

But when he sits in the chair, takes his headphones off and looks at me…for a moment I see a version of Mason that most people don’t ever get to see. I particularly appreciate the look in his eyes - it’s love. Haircuts have become a special thing we do together. Special for me because I feel like it’s “our thing” built on trust and special for him because he walks away looking more handsome. 

I mention all this because after yelling, I decided my reset would be to cut his hair. Mason was looking like a baby orangutan, and I needed the reset. I told him we would do the haircut at night before his bath and he was very agreeable to that. In that moment, I got what I needed. Unfortunately, time ran out and I didn’t cut his hair so I will do that as I cheer on my squares during the Super Bowl this weekend.