When my sister and I were back in elementary school, we played this game where you scratch your hand over and over and over again, to see who can keep at it the longest and not give in like a sissy! I was horrible at the game. With the least amount of pain, I caved and gave up. My sister was much better! I remember she had quite the scar from the silly game!
I was reminded of that game recently with Sam's favorite past time at home. He is very subtle, but it is consistent. He loves, no seriously it must be a passion of his, to just sit and irritate his little brother over and over again. If we are in the car, he moves his foot to Noah's leg and just taps. He does it over and over and over again. Of course, this drives Noah crazy and he gives out a blood curdling scream with every tap.
If the kids are watching a cartoon, Sam will sneak up behind Noah and just tap his head over and over again-causing the same screaming reaction from Noah. If we are eating dinner, he will try to steal his food or hit him or sometimes just give him a mean look, but all result in screaming from Noah.
The affect of this, on my nerves, is exactly what I used to feel when I would try to play that dumb sissy game. It's the repetition of discomfort that almost creates a feeling of craziness. Yep, this is currently my life, the entire time that Sam is awake or not at school. It's no wonder that most days I drop him off in a daze, just longing for quiet or why I can do no more than stare at the wall in blankness, once they have all collapsed in bed for the night.
This much I know, raising a child with special needs is not for sissies! If this is my test, each and every day, the fact that I haven't been committed yet, is a good gauge for how my pain tolerance has grown! I still may not be able to scratch a hole into my hand to prove my inner strength, but the fact I'm still here, says enough.
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