Sometimes I wonder....

I think that age old curse that parents tell their children really works. You know the one: The "I hope you have children just like you when you grow up" one. I can come up with so many examples; WINK's dizzying argument style, SMILE's easy...well...smile, and their general manners. But I always laugh out loud when one of my boys says something that stops me in my tracks with indisputable cosmic justice.

I just had an autism encounter with SMILE. My little guy melted down hard because I gave him and his brother some french fries to share for a snack. I thought I had it all very well planned out; I divided the fries into two equal parts (yes, I counted), and presented them in the styro-foam take home box from the pizzeria. I didn't factor in that they had been my and SMILE's fries, left over from a Mommy and Me lunch date I had with my little man a few days ago, and that SMILE would not want to share (yeah, yeah, yeah...I know). But, WOW, he melted down. I mean an instant crying, total devastation breakdown.

Now, I'm patient with both of my boys when they let their autism flags fly high, but I draw a line when either one gets physical or mean.  SMILE did both. He pulled on my arm, hit my hands, and grabbed my face, the entire time screaming. So, I pulled his beloved Wii remote out of his hands. Now...you have to understand...the Wii is his thing. All autistic kids have something that is valued above all else. The thing that will get their attention, hit them where it hurts (figuratively, of course), and drive home any lesson. But, taking it away comes at a price. Any tantrum will escalate because taking away that thing is a betrayal that is too great to tolerate quietly.

SMILE yowled and kicked. He cried that it wasn't my turn and I had to wait for my turn. I calmly agreed that it wasn't my turn, but I had taken the remote away because he hit me.  
      Scream.  
     "But, once you calm down,"
     Scream!
     {ahem} "Once you calm down and say you're sorry, you can have the Wii remote back."
      Scream!!! "But...but...it's mine and you've taken it quite enough!


Ironically, my inability to stop laughing was what snapped SMILE out of his tantrum enough to apologize. I gave back his remote and walked out of the room to where DAD was sitting.
     "He's so much your son," he beamed.

I know. I think I should call my parents and apologize.