Anyways, Miles started preschool through the school district first week of February. I was walking him and his siblings to the school to drop him off. He did great the first week and second week. They told me he was doing wonderful. Yet, as soon as we rounded the corner from the school from pick up. Miles would start punching his sister and screaming. I was dreading the fact that he was perfect for them and yet wasn't for me. One of my worries was they were going to deny him into their program. I was also worrying that maybe people were correct that I was the WORST MOM in the World. But, they never told me the end date and it was starting to be a challenge to even get him dressed in the morning. He hated going to school and lots of times I had to call my mom to come take him. At one point he worked himself out of his carseat and punched the back of her head while she was driving.
So now, Miles takes the bus to and from school. Most morning it's a struggle to get him on the bus. I am pretty sure his anxiety of leaving the house is the cause of it. We are getting there and finding new ways to do things with him. I just prep him a lot starting the day before that tomorrow is school and the bus will come pick you up. Then I walk him to the bus with his tablet. Some days it works some days it does not.
Lately, Miles has become very violent. Sometimes there is a reasoning behind it such as Sister is playing with his toys and then there are no reasons at all. Such as yesterday he decided to throw two water bottles at his little brother's head. Or Friday, when he didn't want to tell me he didn't want to hang out with Grandma so he smashed his tablet on my head which cracked his screen.
Then there are times that he has awesome day playing nicely with his sister and then he has a complete meltdown later. Usually, there are no time or reasoning to his struggles.
Yesterday, I saw his meltdown coming all day. I tried to help calm him down by giving him lots of body squeezes. It's where I just hold him pretty tightly in a hug. But, it didn't help his struggle what was to come that evening. That evening after dinner, after therapy, Miles blew up. What did he blow up...clothes. He rather run around the house with just his diaper on. He didn't want to wear clothes or to be touched at all. I held him for a bit and he was just blowing up. He punched and kicked. I tried my usual redirect that work some times. Nothing worked. His father held him whole he kicked and scream. He begged for me and I was sitting right next to him holding his hand. Talking in a soft voice. Finally, we took him into his room in the dark and I sat on the floor.
I was punched in the head, kicked in the ribs over and over while he let himself go into a long meltdown. I sat there with a blank face knowing that any reaction would cause it to be worse. I just wanted to cry. Finally, my mom took over for awhile to try her ways to calm him down. I had to go into my room to gather my own emotions. I have sob in the bathroom more times then can count just feeling for my son.
It's those times, I wish I could help him battle his emotions and help him out of his sensory overload. Finally, two hours later he calmed down and wanted to be loved on. He says, "You don't love me." We just remind him that we love him over and over again. That's the hardest thing for me is when he says I don't love him. Because I love him to the moon and back.