Its the small things.

By now I should get it. You'd think.
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Over the last few days of the kids and I being sick I've been pouring myself into researching into some of Matthew's behaviors. Allergies were first off my list. That's an easy one, I guess you could say. Cutting out sugar and all that has helped tremendously with his behavior. He's a much nicer person. But....There are still all the other things that make me feel like I'm losing my mind 24 hours a day. I've narrowed it down to perhaps a Sensory Processing Disorder.

I came across a forum with led me to a website that is all about treating and helping diagnose it. They had a 3 page checklist to help you determine if this might be something your child struggles with. Out of the 100 or so items listed I checked at least 70 of them. It'll be going with me to the doctor. I got more than a little frustrated with telling his pediatrician something is going on with him and having it poopoo'd. Twice. So I called the advice nurse and had a lengthy conversation with her about it, and she couldn't recommend much to me in the way of figuring out where to go for help. She suggested going to Anthony's behavioral specialist. If that's what it takes...I suppose that's where I will head next.
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We've gotten fairly used to his outbursts, dangerous behavior, lack of empathy, senseless mean behavior. Lately he's taken to pulling my hair (out) when he's mad\frustrated. I'm not sure what this accomplishes for him, and I know he's just mad and doesn't know what to do with his anger. But the tearing the hair out of my head thing...yeah, not so nice. I should know better than to wear things around my neck that he can grab onto, because you better believe he will do the same thing.

Selfishly I keep wearing necklaces. Over the last few years I've not been able to wear earrings due to an allergy to the metals, (which in this case might be a really good thing), so I've taken to wearing bracelets and necklaces. It makes me feel good, ok. Don't judge. :) Anyway, I keep hoping maybe he'll see that they are special to me. Silly me. He doesn't think like that. He thinks, "What's that...it's different. I want it! PULL!", or he yanks out of anger or frustration. Beads go flying, clasps get broken. After three or four of them you'd think I'd be the one to catch a clue.

It really is a selfish thing of me to keep wearing them expecting him to catch a clue. I just want one small thing to be special, and to be mine, and to be left alone.

I'm learning to let go of the small things. It hurts sometimes.