“Mom, I can buckle it myself,” Logan said as I tried to snap his car seat hooks. His spring jacket was a bit lighter than the bulky winter coat he’d been wearing for the past five months, which makes things a little easier, but still, it can be a tight fit.
I let him try for a second, then fumbled to get his coat out of the way and clicked the buckle into place myself. I should have known better. “Logan, honey, we need to get home,” I said.
“NOOOO!” he screamed. And screamed. And continued to scream. He wanted to buckle himself. He wanted a hug. He wanted to drink regular milk with casein. Anything he could think of, it seemed, flew out of him like a bird of prey that sank its talons into me. “MOM! Go back to the store!”
When we arrived home, the tirade continued. He wanted a hug to calm himself down, he screamed, but he wanted to drive back to the store and get a hug from me there. Not here. “Never!” he cried.
I suppose I had it coming, having blogged about the awesome lack of meltdowns recently. It seems as though rather than having a minor meltdown or two every couple days, he’s been storing up all that anxiety and anger, and it all came out today in a far worse way than usual. Sigh.
And I’m really not sure what triggered it, other than the seat belt buckle–but he’d been doing such a good job of sidestepping little things like that recently. Even earlier that morning he’d started to pout when I said it was time to leave the park but then said, “OK,” and started to head for the van. It had been a good morning, in fact. I’d even made gluten-free, casein-free and sugar-free pancakes–successfully!
GFCFSugar Free Pancakes
- 2/3 cup GFCFSugar free flour (which I keep, premade, in a Tupperware container in the pantry, a mix of coconut flour and millet flour.)
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 2/3 cup coconut milk
- Coconut oil for the skillet
- 3 eggs
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
My husband told me they would be too runny with that equal amounts flour and liquid (plus the eggs), but they turned out wonderfully light and fluffy–and they didn’t taste too bad, either. Very cinnamony. I tried a new recipe from The Candida Free Cookbook, which is about my new favorite tool with this diet. Anyone who reads this blog might remember I hadn’t had such luck with the other pancake recipes I’ve tried, so either the recipes I previously tried weren’t as good or I’ve become more skilled in the kitchen (but I find the latter hard to believe).
So with a hearty breakfast in his belly, a good day at Sunday School, and a fun stop at the park, Logan should have been able to overcome these little things that usually cause a meltdown. I suppose he could have been simply overtired from a busy morning–that’s part of the headache with autism–it’s so hard to know what the trigger might be. It feels a little like untangling a ball of thread sometimes. And trying to do it in the dark, at that.
I honestly don’t even remember how today’s melt down even ended. I sat by him while he screamed in his room for a while. Then Sadie came in and began whining for her mommy, and I always feel bad when Logan gets extra attention because of certain struggles. So I told Logan he could come downstairs to eat lunch with us when he had calmed himself down. Eventually he grew quiet and followed us but continued to sit by himself, with his shoes and jacket still on, against the kitchen wall. And then he decided to eat lunch with us, read his books with me, and take his nap. All of which brings me back to the tangled ball of string, trying to figure out where the thread that helped him return to normal begins.