Sam's autistic behaviors have come to the forefront since we packed up our stuff and drove 23 hours to a new place. Thankfully, he was comfortable in "Daddy's apartment", but getting him to go anywhere else has been a lesson in patience and trust. Before we go anywhere, I have to announce what we are doing. "We are going to X, Y, and Z." If Sam approves, he is like Ok! Yeah! Let's go! If he does not approve, he kicks and hits and screams NO!! and repeats "No X! No X! No X! Sometimes X is a mundane "I need milk, we are going to the grocery store, kid." But, if he doesn't want to go, I either have to endure A: The shit fit of all shit fits on the way to X,Y or Z or B: Stay home and seethe anger at my anxiety riddled child. Most of the time we go with option A and bring a big dose of patience, but since I am also new here, sometimes it just isn't worth it. I hate to admit it, but I am seething rage right now as I write this blog.
I'm losing my ever-loving mind. I know it isn't his fault. Still, I don't have girlfriends here that I can sit around a table with that have known him his whole life to tell me "he's going to be OK, you are all going to be OK. Now let's hug and toast how hard it is to raise children!" I have me, and my 3 year old daughter who thinks it is unfair that Sam's moods dictate our activities (I cannot say I blame her, as I feel the same way). Oh yeah, and my workaholic husband.
Sam cannot get into his developmental psychiatrist until the middle of July, and his regular pediatrician refuses to tinker with his medicines; he'd rather the psych handle it. Again, I understand. I just wish someone could throw me a bone with this kid right now.