Misophonia Potpourri

Yesterday was a mixed bag of Miso. In the morning my son was only slightly triggered. Colin will usually retreat to a corner of the kitchen when his brothers wake up. He will turn off the refrigerator and eat his breakfast. These days he usually eats at the kitchen counter.

I walked in to find my son with his back to me eating string cheese and drinking a Boost nutritional shake, while packing his lunch. He will not allow us to prepare food for him these days. In a relatively calm voice my son pleaded with me, "Mom, would you PLEASE leave?"

I promptly turned heel and left the kitchen. I decided to take this as a small victory and posted this to my parent's group. A few short months ago, I never would have dreamed that the word "Please" and the absence of threats and swearing would be a good morning. A few short months ago a day never went by without my son telling me he loved me. Several times. Those days are now a thing of the past.

I checked in with my husband mid-morning to see how the ride to school went. Colin had entered the Miata before it was started (he usually waits) and removed his headphones for the ride. He held out until they were approaching the school to unleash his string of "I hate you"s and other unpleasantries. Again we filed that under #progress.

The night before (Tuesday Night), Colin had a cross country meet where he shaved a second off his time for a personal best. We also allowed him to rest/sleep for several hours in my mini van that was parked in our driveway. I'm sure the exercise and rest helped.

Another Dashed Hope

Yesterday afternoon, we had the new garage door installed. Hubs cleaned out and organized the garage so that we could park one car inside. The thought would be that Colin would be safer, especially during the winter months, hanging out in a car that is sheltered inside a warm garage.

Last night, after swim practice, Colin wanted to rest in my mini-van before coming in the house. Dad decided to test out the new door and pulled the van into the garage. Within seconds, our son was howling. The car was backed out and parked into the driveway. Perhaps claustrophobia set in? Maybe the smell of WD-40 the installers used?

Another perfectly good idea was shot to hell. At least we needed the new garage door. Back to the drawing board.......

We are a work-in-progress!