I really wanna say little bundles from hell...
but being that I'm a chuch lady..I think it'll be a little too harsh..

can I say little bundle from a dark dark place?

No?

Ok. forget it.

Miss C, oh Miss C....how I love kids....I really do....I see nice well behaved kids and I long for another child without all the trouble Miss C gave me so I can store away good ol' memories...and not blank random hellish thoughts like the ones I store of Miss C.

If ya ask me for Miss C's childhood memories..I'm afraid you'll be better off asking me the landing coordinates for Apollo 13.

Miss C has come a long way...Our progress has been amazing. Of course, it's the result of long-ass work...long hard nights, a financial burden, lots of tears, prayers and completely going apesh*t...

Everyone has been happy...and surprised to see her so well...

But.
Of course there is a but.

this weekend, jumping off a bridge wouldn't quite satifsy my urge.

Miss C was haywire.

Doing things that she hasn't done in a long time....and some other 'new' stuff she's never done, like covering her ears at every single sound and screaming: "It's all too loud!!!!"

::sigh::

She's been a brat mixed a little with Autism....a nice combo.
Telling me to shut up...kicking me, biting me, biting True, spitting...

Oh this last one, the spitting thing....
I loathe it.
I have to literally contain myself, because I start to hyperventilate and I have visions of flying teeth...

If you read my post about Thursday, you'll see she was haywire since then. Friday was no exception...Saturday it just got worse, real worse...so worse True had to take over and let me get some sleep because I was at my wit's end...but Sunday...

Sunday was good.

Note the sarcastic undertone in the term "good".

We got to church and she wanted to sleep.

Fine. I put her to sleep in the kiddie room.

I sat with her.

True kept coming in to tell me to go to the service and he'd watch her a while.

I declined.
I really felt no urge to go and enjoy the service.
I needed some alone time.

After she fell asleep, I decided to sit at the service, but a shrieking made me jump out of my chair...

Miss C woke up.

I went into the kiddie room and you know what was up...
More screaming, kicking...she slapped me so hard I was literally stopped in my tracks...

True came in, tried to help..but it wasn't working...her screams became louder...the veins on the side of her neck looked like they were gonna pop...I was trying to be nice, trying to be firm without being abusive...trying to keep my sh*t together...

But her wails could be heard in the church area and it was just getting to me...

She escaped our grasp and made her way to the altar...I ran after her...grabbed her, slipped....fell to the ground with her....managed to drag her back to the room...

started to cry.

"I'm leaving True. You can stay, but I can't. I can't do this..."

"Ok. We'll go".

We packed our stuff and headed out, halfway through the service.

As I walked down the steps of the church, my feet felt funny.

I had broken my shoe.

I HAD BROKEN MY BRAND NEW SHOES....
SHE HAD BROKEN MY BRAND NEW SHOES....

MY BRAND NEW SHOES.

I know it sounds shallow..

But my shoes....

We got in the car..I sulked over my shoes...True managed to set Miss C in her carseat and I just completely lost it.

"I CAN'T DO THIS!!!!, This is NOT what I signed up for!!!!! I cannot do this..!!"

True the ever so patient man, gave me words of encouragement..and love and 'you-can-do-it'...

But alas, it's not the same...

These shoes, these broken shoes, are difficult to walk in at times..
And just when I think she's good...it gets bad...

I spent the rest of the day at True's....sleeping...I was / am exhausted.

Around 7pm I called it a night. Asked True if he could accompany me home...I had a little spat with Vietnam on Friday that turned a little violent and I was afraid to head home by myself...

He, of course, came along.

helped me tuck the little bundle of joy in...the little bundle of joy who kept spitting at me all the way home...

We watched the Larry King Live show on Autism, which they replayed yesterday.

I cried so much. It was so hard seeing those people, those stories so much like mine. It was hard seeing stories of parents with more than one child with Autism and not have that undercurrent of fear that I might just have another child with this disease....how would I cope?

I went to bed at almost midnight and didn't sleep a bit...

This morning...Miss C was the same..had me looking for a freakin' ferret toy that didn't show up...fought all the way to school, stammered in the room, pushed some boys out of her way..and sat to cry and scream...

I was so happy to leave all that mess in someone else's hands today.

I love the week.

I had to stop at True's work to get my cellphone charger which I left at his place yesterday...

he was great..
prayed for me, us, Miss C...
And I was off to work...
Tired, exhausted.

My hair looking like my mom, broken shoes, an extreme need for soda..caffeine...sugar...and a longing for a bed in a quiet room with no kids.