Psych appointments

First of all, we love our psychologist. Not just because she's the coolest ever, even though she is. Not just because she affirms me, even though she does. Not because she builds up my kids without tearing them down, although she does every single visit.

Not just because she's fair, she doesn't take the side of parent against child arbitrarily, she keeps her cool, breaks stuff down so that even I can understand it. But because she knows stuff.

Stuff like Adolescent something-or-another of Autism. Yeah, I'm so smart, we just left and i can't remember what it's called. Could be the four hours of sleep I got last night, since Ava isn't sleeping nights and Bre is up at 6am each morning. Add to that the burning flames of hades I have (some people call it heartburn, whatever)  every night until about midnight, my sleep pattern is not good. 

That's neither here nor there, but what Adolescent S-O-A of Autism consists of is a big, fat regression. Living with Bre right now is like living with the feral monkey that we knew at the age of two. She's having accidents again. She's incapable of using words to ask for what she wants. She's not eating food outside of rice and McDonald's nuggets. She *is* eating leaves and other wild plants at the park. I caught her sticking mistletoe berries in her mouth. She's running and screaming and mumbling in strange voices. She's biting her hands and eating the cuticles from her toes. It's a little frustrating and a lot scary. 

I've been blaming myself a lot...maybe I'm not maintaining enough of a routine. Perhaps her heavy work isn't regular enough, she needs more movement, jumping, swinging. I've been encouraging her, but she's really not listening. Maybe she's getting corn in somewhere...we've been very careful, all of her favorite foods have added dextrose or corn syrup lately, so I'm busting my butt making stuff from scratch to fulfill those needs. i can't make honey nut scooters from scratch however.

But I learned something great today...like most kids with autism undergo this when the flush of prepubescent hormones washes through their system. Drives their systems crazy, and they just can't regulate it. It's so well known (How well known is it?) well, it's so well known that even back in the day (haha) when drs just recommend you stick your kid in a closet or sanitarium after diagnosis, that they even talked about it back then. sigh. I never heard about it. 

Bad news, is that it can last 18 to 36 months....just long enough to make me insane, I'm guessing. Because I love this child desperately, but the screaming and moaning mutters. must. stop. now. I can handle about an hour before. i. need. a. drink. And I'm pregnant. and. can. not. drink.

Edit: To be fair to Bre, she really *is* doing good in some places. She really did buy a pumpkin at the patch. She will hold a book if I give it to her and actually read some of it. She's not hurting other people, which was a horrible part of her younger childhood that I am thankful we're not revisiting.