Beautiful Monkey-Butt

Today, I opened our son’s door to find a winter wonderland.

He’s been more impulsive of late; we aren’t sure yet what’s going on.

Last night at Boy Scouts, his sometimes-nemesis-sometimes-partner-in-crime asked for water. Our boy complied with the request by dumping water on the kid’s head.

When Hubby asked him why he thought it was a good idea, he shrugged.

I didn’t think it was a good idea. I just thought of it, so I did it.

Reasons for his choices remain elusive, apparently even to him.

“I wanted to do it at the time but now I see it was a bad choice,” or “I don’t know why I did it,” are frequent answers when we question him after the fact.

His befuddlement appears legitimate.

Since Dad passed away, wild swings of his behavior have become the norm. One moment, he’s explaining detailed reasons for the failure of a World War II campaign. The next, he’s walking from the kitchen to the living room to deposit orange peels behind the couch because the trash can (in the kitchen) was too far away.

After he gets in trouble, he’s almost perfect for hours and incredibly logical about accepting consequences for his behavior. He’ll work with diligent focus on math, chores, apology notes or other remedial requirements.

If only he’d act as though he’d been in trouble BEFORE getting in trouble, he’d almost never be in trouble.

So.

Back to the beautiful snowy landscape.

In his room.

I opened the bedroom door to deposit some of his belongings and stopped, sniffing in amazement.

My young man’s bedroom actually smelled…not like his bedroom usually stinks smells.

Then I turned on the light.

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The pictures don’t even begin to accurately portray the amount of powder on EVERY SURFACE of his room.

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This summer, before Scout camp, I bought him a container of Anti Monkey Butt powder (yes, it’s really a thing) as recommended by the troop leaders. It resided in the top drawer of his dresser for almost an entire year.

And then.

This morning, it called his name. 

He said he just wanted to see what everything would look like with powder all over it.

Thought it might be pretty.

Turns out, it definitely smelled pretty.

It was EVERYwhere.

I can imagine his delight as the plastic can puffed white flakes into the air. He probably danced through the clouds as they fell (a theory supported by the powder Hubby brushed off the kid’s shirt this morning).

As usual, he attempted no argument when I handed down the sentence: vacuum and wipe every surface, shake bedding over the porch rail, put all belongings in their proper places.

He even put the sheets back on his bed without asking me for help—and I didn’t even tell him to do that.

Unbelievable.

Tomorrow, his in-home counselor will help us try to work with him through his thought process. I’m just hoping we can find a solution, because right now it feels like every time we turn around it’s “something else.”

So far, most of his urges have led to largely harmless actions, but we just never know what he’s going to do next.

It’s like he’s suddenly five. Or maybe three.

He carries chunks of concrete into the bathroom, hides yogurt wrappers and banana peels in his room (doubly odd since we reinforce that he can have healthy food any time he wants it), climbs things, wanders off, misbehaves at school hoping for a suspension (because then he can come home) and basically does whatever pops into his head.

A friend told me that when his spectrum son edged into puberty, his Autism went from minor inconvenience to a full-blown life-alteration. We’re not sure if this regression is due to the Autism, due to the grief, due to a need for a change in medication, or…

We just don’t know. And it’s frustrating. 

But, on the bright side—the side to which I cling in desperation—the pattern of the powder was very pretty

And even better: his room no longer smells like a baboon’s derriere. 

 

About Casey

Adoption = my life. I'll give it to you straight. Success, failure, truth.

Posted on April 19, 2017, in Adoption, autism and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 14 Comments.

  1. I loved this one. Pretty sure we need some anti/monkey butt around here! Lol.

    Like

  2. Oh man.

    I hope this is one that you can laugh at some day if not yet (because the “funny/cute” things our kids do, such as this, are NOT so funny/cute when they come after a dozen other odd things that occurred throughout the day!)!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Yeah…yesterday morning I heard the fridge door slam and checked the baby monitor (which keeps me from having to roll out of bed at 6 am if he’s just getting a snack). I could tell he was “sneaking” whatever it was, so trotted downstairs. He heard me coming and hightailed it to his room. I asked what he had, and he brought me an egg. I put it back and noticed another was missing (I’d just bought the carton). I walked into his room and found that he’d had an “accident” and tried to clean it up himself, so started gathering his bedding and found the other egg swaddled in his blankets. Hatching a chick? Nope. He just wanted to throw it to see what would happen. Thank God he had the sense not to do it inside…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Poof! Powder!it’s winter at home.and it smells good! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • We got to the “that’s a funny story” point rather quickly on this one. Thankfully there was no permanent damage to anything, and like you say, it smelled great! 🙂

      Like

  4. I am so praying that my daughter doesn’t go there. We have the food and wrapper issues. Wow…🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Wow! He’s a terrier, that boy. At least it smelt good – I guess things could have been a whole lot worse 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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