Thursday 15 May 2014

Chronicles of Mr Rigid

Tonight, I had a grumpy, whiny, angry and frustrated, crying boy.

A mixture of unhappy emotions that he had difficulty venting off, steeping and boiling inside of him, clawing away at him.

He was extremely unhappy with me because I had not allowed him to play with the ipad.
Even though today, was his Sacred Ipad Day.

When the emotions were finally too much for him to take, he showed his displeasure by attempting to spit saliva, shouting, and relating his anger and unhappiness, in stumbled sentences and wrong phrases.

His difficulty in translating how he felt and what he thought, into verbal words, was even more evident as I watched him struggling to explain himself. At that point, all my anger dissipated.

Long ago before he was diagnosed with ASD, and when he was much younger, we would let him play with the ipad/iPhone everyday, and for hours on end for some. With the ipad, he could self-entertain for hours and you wouldn't even hear a peep from him. Which didn't seem like such a bad idea at a party or wedding dinner when we could mingle or catchup with others instead. Life seemed good then.

Post diagnosis, much reading up and many advices later, we gradually stretched from daily, to every alternate day, and to the current - once every four days period. I'm not sure how Hubby struck the deal with him then, but he did. He even took the opportunity while counting down towards the next ipad session, to incorporate teaching S the days of the week. We've been on this schedule for quite some time now, and things work out jolly well for most of the times.

Rigidity is a common trait of ASD kids and so, I shouldn't be the least bit suprised that S sticks very closely to this routine. He anticipates these 'sacred' days like clockwork, when he gets to play with any game on the ipad (although usually only sticking to youtube and nfs) for two fantastic, undisturbed, unrestrained, joyful hours. Nothing that we say or do can disrupt this 'sacred', untouchable, no-change, no-disruption-to-routine day.

Today however, was when his 'sacred' day coincided with a ton of homework to complete and chinese spelling to learn for the next day, all to be completed within 2hrs.

I was trying my luck at negotiating, giving him the choice to play for only a short period today, or delay one day for a full session tomorrow instead.

Despite explaining a gazillion times and in all manners, he wouldn't hear me out, rejecting my explanations at every turn. He couldn't understand what I was trying to put across. In his own interpretation, all he understood were the words 'NO. IPAD. TODAY.' Which clashed with his pre-programmed 'ipad-every-fourth-day-and-that-day-is-today' mindset.

Long story short, in the end I had to compromise to avoid a meltdown. He was allowed to play for a short period first, with no 'payback' of the time lost, and homework after. We managed to complete his homework and spelling slightly after bedtime.

And just like that, because he got to play on the ipad, even though it was only for a much shorter period, his anger and frustrations melted away and he turned back into his cheerful, pleasant, and contented self.

Some things are just so difficult for us to grasp but for him, it's just that simple.

In memory of Pa, 8th year.

In the blink of an eye, 8 years have passed.
Time it seems, passes by so fast.
After your death, I learnt many things. 
Things that I would never have dreamed.
I learnt that the world doesn't stop revolving.
That life carries on, forwardly moving.
I learnt that you were easily replaced in other's hearts.
The life that they had, didn't need you much.
But for the world that I lived in, I felt like time stopped.
The pain in my heart; senses all blocked.
And then, very slowly, everything resumed.
And memories of the dying-you no longer loomed.
I can look back in smiles, with eyes that are dry.
And know that time heals even the most painful goodbyes.