by Lillian Csernica on July 17, 2013
Most of the time I count myself very fortunate, because while quality of life. John is on the spectrum, but he’s doing very well and he has outgrown a number of the more
And then there was today.
The local library offers a “Teen Tech” class on Wednesdays, taught by a wonderful man from the Digital . John loves to creates storyboards, so he was having a grand time learning to use the digital camera and the MovieMaker software as well. I had a nice chat with the librarian supervising the class, which may result in me giving talks at the library.
When the class ended, I was ready to move on to the next item on the To Do list. John was not. John wanted to stay at the library until it closed and use one of the computers to listen to his favorite music videos. Having already spent an hour and a half on the class, we did need to move on with the afternoon. Unfortunately, John is now in the habit of going to the library for the express purpose of using the computer to listen to these videos. Why? Because we limit his electronic activity time at home. Too much of it and he gets rather wound up and contrary.
I’ll just cut to the chase here: John dug his heels in and refused to leave until he’d used the computer. I had to start going down the list of privileges he’d lose if he didn’t do as he was told. When he was still four or five years old, I could just pick him up and haul him away. Now that he’s six feet tall and build like a wrestler, I might as well be trying to push over a bronze statue anchored in cement. He lost his temper, I lost my temper. I don’t know how I finally got him in the car, but I did and we came straight home.
That confrontation left me in such a state of aggravation and exasperation I had to isolate myself for a while until I could get a grip. Later I found out that John had given my sister a similar bad time about doing his outdoor chores earlier in the day. My sister’s solution was brilliant: she turned the garden hose on him. That left John gasping and spluttering and so startled that it snapped him out of the contrary holding pattern.
This is really upsetting. As a discipline issue it’s very draining. What’s more, once John starts high school in the fall, he’s going to find out the hard way that you just don’t tell off your teachers like that. He might still be designated special education, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences. I want what’s best for John, but I would also enjoy what’s best for me, and this level of stress is not healthy for either of us. Looks like I’ll be giving the adaptive skills trainer another call.