Home Late Again = Bad Day

It was after 4:30 and Max still hadn't arrived home. When his new Occupational therapist called asking why we didn't come to our for a 4pm appointment. I knew it was time for me to call school bus department. Max's bus is suppose to drop him off at 3:30. My stomach began to tighten up with thoughts that Max could of been in a accident or got on the wrong bus, but when I heard the dispatcher on the other end of the phone line and found out that Max had a substitute driver and the driver didn't know the route. I was able to take a sigh of relief.
He had speech at five o'clock. My mind went in several direction as I felt my frustation boiling in me, wondering how I was going to make it to his appointment on time.

I waited and waited at our front door for him to arrive after I got off the phone with the dispatcher. Calmness came over me when I noticed a shade of the bus Shadow through the window.

Poor Max finally arrived home at 4:45. I quickly opened up the door to greet Max hoping he would be willing to leave for therapy. Max usually likes to come home, eat a snack and rest, but it wasn't possible.

I observed Max has he carried his viola case strap over his shoulder and his back pack dragging behind him. His eyes were drawn up and his voice was projecting the same couple of sentences over and over.

Max glared at the light fixture above our entry way. "Mom they need to fire the bus driver. If he doesn't have a college degree he shouldn't be driving the bus. Mom...he made me last to come home, he dropped everyone and left me last. Call the school mom and tell them to fire the two workers on the bus. I knew the helper, but the bus driver wasn't good mom."

I slipped Max's viola case strap off his shoulder while trying to get him to listen to my directions, but it wasn't possible. It was difficult to get him to focus on anything. I had to physically guide him out to the car as he continue to share his thoughts about the substitute  bus driver. "MOM...do you hear me? They need to tell those workers never to come back Mom, can they put me on another bus? They have to, I can't always be last home."

"I heard you and you need to understand they didn't know the  bus route."

Max looked at me with a firm belief he knew the answer. "Then they need to go to college and learn the route."

Speech theapry was not as productive with him so upset over getting home late and being last on the bus.

Max's Campout to Bear Lake.

Max went fishing for the first time ever and he loved it I guess.

 

 

 

Max with his fishing post and tackle box.



 

Max and another scout looking at the fish.

 

Max fishing.

 

Max trying to catch a fish.

 

Max watching the crawdads cook.

 

Max didn't want to eat a crawdad and neither did his brother Malachi.

 

 

Max's Mood Scale

 

 

Max's teacher has a number scale to help her students express how they are feeling. Here is the mood scale that Max has brought home. I asked him what each one of them means and I wrote what he said next to his mood description word.

 

 

The years that Max was non-verbal and his behavior was sometimes more difficult to keep under control, seem like a hundred of years ago. My heart aches at the memory of seeing his hand go through the living room window, all because he wanted to go for a walk. The countless times he ran out onto a main intersection now seem like someone elses story. I remember the numerous times he would dart out of my parents home and run out onto the street.

A hobby Max had developed was tossing his shoe at me while I was driving during rush hour. I know why he did those things. It was the only way he knew how to express his feelings and desires.

What a blessing that he can now share his feelings with me. Sometimes he has a difficult time, but most often I can at least figure out what he is wanting or needing.

 

Now he talks non-stop and he seems to think that when he ask a question I should know the answer right away. Well, I'm defiantly not a perfect mother and I don't always have the answers, but I try to answer him the best way I know and in a way he will understand.

 

We all have mood swings, we all have days when we are down unable to see any ray of hope of things changing or moving forward. For Max he sees each day as a day to play his wii, attend school and place Lego's all over his bedroom thinking they will permanently stay in that spot. He will have them even put on the shelves in his closet, dresser, floor. When I ask him nicely to clean up his face droops with sadness when he realizes it's the only way I can dust and vacuum his room.

(Yes, Max does vacumm.)

Scale mood number five kind of shocked me. Crazy Mad a combination I have never used before to him or any one else that I can remember. 

Heaven knows after raising five kids and one with autism, I might of said it. Life brings us trials that help us on our course through our trail of life.

Thanks for letting me share the story of a little boy who holds not only my heart, but my life.