Latest Chapter in Life with The Boy

Life with the boy is never dull.  First, when I picked him up at school, I found that “we” were working on a few things.  First, “we” were working on not talking back.  “We’ve” ALL been working on that, at home, at in-home case management, at school, at Karate, at therapy, everywere.  The trigger word for the boy is “besides”, always plural.  When that word is uttered it means someone is about to receive one or some combination of the following: an argument, a lie, notification that whatever punishment you handed down is temporary, a change of subject, some really screwy reasoning, or a question about what will happen if he disobeys, or notification of a perceived loophole. Next, use of inappropriate language.  I didn’t probe, I let the teacher deal with it.  When I questioned him in the car, he said he got in trouble for saying “Holy Crap.”  Later, the in-home case manager questioned him about it and he claimed other kids had said he used the “S” word, but he didn’t he said crap.  In “the boy speak” that probably means he said “Holy Sh**”.  The teachers were probably going along with it “Holy Crap” because it was easier or because they were afraid I would punish him more.  They probably think I am some sort of monster based on the two IEP meetings I’ve attended and the way they react to my stories and explanations of my structuring.   They don’t live with him.  Some of them are starting to look a bit more sympathetic though.  Next, use of poor English particularly “ain’t.”  and lastly, not pushing so hard to make friends.

I put him to bed at 9:00 PM.  At 10:30, as I was just settling into a good sleep, he said something.  It was louder than it should be.  I questioned him, he repeated whatever he said.  I gave up and got up.  He was standing in the hallway.  His eyes were open and he was babbling.  He was stuttering badly, and seemed slightly excited and a bit frustrated.  He was pointing into his bathroom and asking me something along the lines of “What was that thing you were saying was out-of-style?”  I inquired as to what he was speaking.  He stuttered a bit but couldn’t seem to get it out.  He came into the living room and leaned on the arm of the sofa.  He kept trying to say something.  He seemed alert, not scared, but excited.  He was too excited and his stutter was in full power, so he couldn’t say whatever he trying to say.  He finally said “Never mind” and went back to his room and climbed in his bed.  I asked if he were okay, he replied yes.  I asked if why he was up.  He didn’t know.  I asked what he wanted, he didn’t know.  I asked if he needed to use the bathroom.  He said yes and went into the living room.  I asked what he was doing.  “Going to the bathroom.”  At which point he did.  He then went to bed.  This morning he claims to remember none of it.