Another Rough Day

Leelo's gone to bed at or before 10:00 for two days in a row. That is progress! We did not spike his rice milk with any kind of barbituate or alcohol, nor did we tie his ankle to the corner of his bed as my mom used to do to my oldest brother. Nope. Good old fashioned putting him back to bed 50 or 60 times in a row is all it took.

The rest of the day sucked.

There were good parts. We all started busting a gut when Leelo cornered me and made me his performing monkey, demanding "Where are your eyes? Where is your nose? Where are your ears?" and helpfully showing me where said body parts was located (Ow, my eyes--but still funny).

He had short periods of calm, when he would allow me to lie on the couch with him and snuggle as he watched a video, or I could massage his arms and legs with lotion while singing him a song, or he would sit in my lap while I read him three short stories, or he would dance around in a cloud of high-test glycerinated bubbles.

Otherwise, though, he spent all day--ALL DAY--in attack mode. Trying to run into the nearest adult and occasionally after Mali or sometimes even hapless Pat the Cat, and then hitting us with both hands while grunting/yelling. When he wasn't doing this he was constantly chewing on some sort of string or rubber band (his official "chewies" aren't doing it for him) and walking around in circles. He didn't want to do anything else, except eat. Any time we tried to redirect or guide him, he had a falling-on-the-floor tantrum. Dressing or toileting was accompanied by a flurry of kicks to whomever was assisting him.

It is simply not fun to be around him right now, but we are doing our best not to let him sense that; to try and keep our voices and actions as positive as possible. As I told Babysitter A, this is the hardest it's been for me with regards to Leelo since his initial diagnosis. He is exhausting and depressing his parents as well as every single person responsible for his care.

Also we have decided that for now we cannot put him in the church nursery, and so Seymour and I will most likely have to alternate churchgoing weeks. I was already bummed about being at church without my mate when the RE director sat down with me as I grumped with Mali in the nursery (our loud baby made it through most, but not all, of the sermon before drowning out the minister and being removed) and gently got me to confirm that Leelo would not come back to church without one-on-one support provided by us. I know that we can't expect people at church to give Leelo the support he needs, but am still pretty sad that they felt they had to draw that admission out of me.

I want my Leelo back. I want this monstrous little shit who took over his body two weeks ago to leave and never come back. I know it might be weeks or months before that happens. Of course I can deal with it, and would even if I had a choice to not do so. But I do hope that his team members feel the same way. I don't know what we'd do if one of them decides that they can't take his behavior any more.


Cheery notes: Mali now clearly enunciates "Pat" when trying to torture the cat. Before all she had was a "Paaaaa." I'm sure both utterances are still equally terrifying when dropped within earshot of said kitty.

She is a fantastic, super-bright baby. There will be no doubt that--if anything happens to her autism-wise--it will be a bonafide regression rather than a failure to develop.

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