Days are rarely bad in and of themselves. Often a "bad day" is a culmination, like the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. We have been working so hard, so very hard, for five years, and sometimes it seems we have made no progress at all. And almost every day we are insulted, hit, and kicked, and when we turn our backs, or go in another room for a few moments of peace, our property is ravaged, and occasionally vandalized. Like last Monday, when John took a screwdriver and carved numbers into the top of Wendy's beautiful wooden desk. She cried that day, and has been crying almost every day since. There is really much more that goes on in our house, that I haven't written about here. And today, this day, is only a little worse than the others.
And it's not always John. Take Thanksgiving for example. We went to Wendy's brother's house for turkey dinner, and when we came home, a $350 cell phone was missing. Each of my kids saw it, in different places, and Elizabeth says she saw John playing with it. Of course nobody actually "touched it", or so they claim. Since they are all pathological liars, with an act that would impress Ronald Reagan, I don't know whom to believe. We learned, later, that Mary took the cell phone and hid it in her room, for reasons that still escape me. Unfortunately they bought a new cell phone in the interim, and now I have to reimburse them, even though I currently don't have a job. No paycheck, no income, and our savings are dropping fast. So glad all those tax cuts for the rich are stimulating the economy. Thanks a lot, George W. Bush! No worries though; my children will pay for these growing deficits with interest. Hey, who needs a balanced budget anyways? That's just so Clintonian! But I digress.
Yesterday John ate a restaurant lunch that we would not sanction on his new diet, but it was already prearranged. He earned lunch out for his good behavior. Honestly, that's how schools reward kids these days, with snacks, and treats, and even trips to a restaurant. It's all about food food food! No wonder our kids are obese and diabetic. So yesterday he ate Thai noodles, a huge plate of starch and sugar. Now it's the day after, and we're ready for the fallout. Or are we?
The morning begins with John crying, because he found an "I hate you" note on his bed. Guess what? None of my kids wrote it. Liars every one! I have Elizabeth write a quick letter of apology, because I'm pretty sure she's the one who did it, and we remind her that she's suppose to talk to us about her feelings, even her negative feelings, instead of sending hate mail to her brother. Finally everyone settles down, and we send them off to school.
We hope to spend some time with each other, before the kids come home, and we're almost in the mood, when we get a call from school. Mary has stolen something, and is sequestered in the office. Wendy puts on her coat and heads out the door. What really happened, and what is an appropriate punishment? No, I don't think my angel daughter was framed. She's stolen before, e.g. the cell phone, and apparently she's stealing again. Christ, I thought we were past this.
Meantime John comes home and he looks terrible. "How was your day?" I ask, and he says it was "Gwate!", with his thumb in his mouth. Well this time he's not lying. He continues to have pretty good days at school, now that he's off sucrose, but he has become a monster here at home. This reaches a crescendo at 10:00 at night, when Wendy asks him to pick his toys up off his bedroom floor. A simple thing, just pick up your trucks, but his ODD is off the scale tonight. He insults her in every way possible, and tells her that she should really go to jail for treating him so badly. Then he throws his possessions about. Once again Wendy is in her room crying. It's just a bad day.
There is one bright spot though. At the end of the day, John says, "I don't want to be crazy any more. I don't want to be mean any more. It's not fair." He is becoming self-aware, and has almost hit bottom. This may be what we've been waiting for. Perhaps, now, he will follow the SCD diet. Perhaps he will decide that his life is more important than eating what everybody else eats. It's really his choice you know, not mine. And at this moment in time, he says he'll give SCD a go.
The next morning we pack his lunch, a plain pork chop, squash noodles, and peas. Yeah, it doesn't sound terribly appetizing to me either, but that's all we have, ready made, that is consistent with SCD. So he picks up his lunch box and puts on his coat, but why is he going out through the garage? Wendy and I sit quietly and listen; he's getting into something. She opens the door just as he is dumping his lunch into the garbage can. Apparently he was going to buy lunch like usual, and come home with an empty lunch box. Well planned and well executed. He's a smart kid! We reel him in and the fight begins. We tell him he can't go to school if he's going to lie to us and eat the school lunches. Now he is kicking and screaming. We pull his shoes off in a hurry. Unfortunately his new winter coat gets ripped in the process, and I can't afford to buy him another one. He'll have to wear his old beat-up coat from last year, which really doesn't fit. finally he calms down as his ritalin kicks in, and we take him to school. We explain that he'll be bringing his lunch until further notice, so if he's standing in line to buy, something is terribly wrong!
I don't know where all this will lead. I have a blood test that points, unambiguously, to a chronic yeast/bacteria infection, and I have the diet that will (probably) help. It's partial implementation has made a big difference at school, so there is reason for optimism. But I don't know if he can stick to it, and I don't know when we can expect a real improvement in behavior here at home. Soon, I hope, but some autistic kids are on this diet for weeks, or even months, 100%, no mistakes, before they turn the corner.
Just before Christmas we receive some happy news, my job has returned, with a steady paycheck. One less thing to worry about! Our relief is palpable. We have more patience with the kids, and more hope, and more joy. to top things off, Christmas day is a true delight. John looks good, really good, all day, with no meds. Just a good day, just lucky I guess, but I'm glad it landed on Christmas day.