November 13, 2008

More Of The Same

Again, Aidan has been sent home from preschool. He goes two days a week. He gets sent home two times a week.

What. The. Fuck.

I don't know what to do. I'm at the end of my rope and starting to fashion a noose. I wish I had a tranqualizer gun and I'd just shoot him when he starts throwing his fit.

You don't understand. I can vividly explain each and every detail of insanity that goes on when he loses it like that but you do not understand until you see it firsthand. You think, "yeah, he's a brat. He throws a huge fit. That's awful.". Then you actually see it and you say, "Holy shit! That kid is out of control. How do we stop him? He's gonna kill someone. Someone help!". Then you run away crying because it's that fucking bad.

He's been to counseling. 6 months of her watching him play. The one time he threw the kind of fit we were there to fix she looks at me and asks, "What do we do?". No shit. I decided she wasn't helping us and we quit throwing away $200 a week.

The public schools here have an Education Coop where they provide hearing, vision, speech, and behavorial therapy free of charge. It's no suprise the director of his preschool referred Aidan. Before they can start behavorial therapy they must rule out vision, hearing, speech, etc problems. You can imagine how the testing went. They referred us out for his hearing test. It's a miracle of God we got it done. I know he can hear since he repeats everything I mumble under my breath. I know he can talk because I listen to his smart ass mouth every single day. I know he can see because he can spot a candy bar in my purse from 10 yards. Trust me, a hearing aid or glasses isn't gonna help. It'll only give him something else that costs a fortune to break.

After Tuesday's incident - which included property damage as well as kicking his teacher hard enough to leave a bruise - I called the coop to say, "You have to help me with this now. Can we just start on working on a plan dealing with his behavior?". The coop spoke with the director and decided she would videotape his next fit for them so they can see it up close and personal. So today it starts to go south and I'm waiting for her to whip out the video camera. She never does. He kicked his teacher again and I got the look that says come get him now. I'm wondering what the hell is going on. Then she tells me she needs my permission to tape him. Are you fucking kidding me?!?! Obviously I'm on board with this! Fucking Hell!!!

I just took every single toy out of his bedroom. His TV comes down out of his room when Daddy gets home. No playing with friends. No Webkinz. No whatever the hell else I can think of to take away from him. I couldn't very well beat his ass right there in the church run preschool, they'd probably frown on that. I don't know what else to do. And he's not even bothered by any of it. He will tell me exactly what he did wrong and why he's losing everything and he's perfectly logical and reasonable about the whole thing. What else can I do? I don't want him to take medication but this can't continue. At this point, bring on the meds. I take them, which is probably why he's still alive. I guess it's just time to admit defeat. I surrender. A four year old boy runs my life and I am powerless to change it.
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