*^$%&*@^(#@&*(#)

Yep. That just about sums up how I'm feeling today. I'm angry, bitter, frustrated, and feel like swinging a sledge hammer at something until it has completely crumbled into rubble.  But, alas, I will take a deep breath, remember to let it out, and suck it up.

It was another weekend. Nothing exciting. Nothing special. More litter boxes, more scrubbing of old cat barf stains, more mini tantrums. We've added something new to the mix, though. Brett is in the middle of a medication switch for his anxiety disorder. He's titrated off his old med completely and has been taking the new one for about 4 days. He has been, well, completely off his rocker. And that might be an understatement.  I had plans to go out for a couple of hours on Saturday afternoon. When he found out, he said "I'll just wait in your bedroom until you get home". This is, of course after he asked if he could come along.  He is pacing the house constantly, worrying about EVERYTHING, and can't control himself. He is a whirlwind of constant motion and sound. And yesterday, when I asked him for the 37th time to keep his voice down...I guess that was the one that put him over the edge. I thought he had just gone upstairs to pout. My husband found him hiding in his bedroom closet. Considering that I'm currently shopping for a new psychiatrist for him, I'm keeping my fingers (and toes) crossed that we'll see some changes. Soon.

Jordan continues to tantrum to express his frustrations over everything. It's a learned behavior. He didn't learn it here, but it's our job to make him unlearn it. It's written in his behavior plan that we should ignore the behavior, as he's doing it for attention. You know, the old negative reinforcement...well, we haven't seen too much progress with that. He tantrums nearly every time Brett opens his mouth. Rather than ignoring him, or prompting him to ask for a break from the situation (which is what he wants anyway), we've brought him closer to the source of frustration. And have started to encourage Brett to talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Which isn't hard! Yes, Jordan is still having tantrums. But if he's going to do it, it better be for a damn good reason. It shouldn't take him too long to realize that his attempts are fruitless. I don't give in. I don't give up.

Something happened last week. It actually startled me, because it was an event that I hadn't seen in, well, I can't even remember. Jordan and I were settling in to watch our afternoon story. I hate soap operas, but will watch any Disney movie, time and time again. He likes to pull the gliding rocker over so he can see the TV and still rock away. He had stood up to press play on the DVD player. You see, we have to watch all the previews. And all the credits. We also have a kitten named Dobby. She's more of a honey badger, because she doesn't give a sh*t. Apparently, the second he stood up, she overtook his nice warm seat. And as he turned around to reclaim his spot, he nearly sat on her. And then I heard one of the most beautiful sounds on the planet. It was Jordan's deep, belly laugh. And it was intentional. Often times, people with autism experience unexplained fits of giggling. This was different. It was appropriate. And it was amazing. I held onto that moment for as long as I could, because I don't know when it will happen again. 

Apparently, there was a big game on last night. Whatever. I hate football. I'm glad to see the season end, and I won't pretend that I care about who won the game. Except that a very good friend is a SF fan, and I don't think she's very happy today. I spent over 5 hours, staring out our sliding glass door, because Momma, the world's most stubborn barn cat, has finally realized that the heated bed I bought for her is a good thing. It will warm her little parts, and she doesn't have to burrow in the moldy, smelly hay out in the barn. You know, you trap a cat once, steal away her lady parts, and she holds a grudge forever.  Maybe she needs to learn how to suck it up.