This is going to seem like a call for help.

It’s funny how I on this blog I post recipes (gluten free and vegan mostly) and also write about things that may turn people’s stomach like fecal, or poop, smearing. A couple of months ago my son loved playing with his spit. He would spit and then run his fingers all around it whether it was on the floor, on the table and even on himself. This past week I found him smeared with his own poop at least four times and each time I freaked out, and died a little bit inside. It’s our newest obsession, it’s a fact. Again, another sensory thing.  No more do I think that it’s just a one-time thing but rather something that needs to be tackled, at once! I googled it of course and then actually found onesies sold at amazon just for this. Not something to stop it but to block access: onesies for 4, 5 and even 6 year olds! I’m ordering!! Yesterday afternoon after we’d done our table work I decided that it was the perfect time for me to do some cleaning and we went out on the balcony. It was afterall a perfect sunny day. I thought I’d start with the windows so I went inside for maybe two minutes to get towels and Windex while Panayioti was out on the balcony by himself. I came out just as he was smearing his poop on the floor and found that he had poop on himself too, his shirt, his pants, and even on the pilates ball. Ok, I thought, be calm. I tied his hands with his sleeves so that he couldn’t dirty anything else, took all his clothes off on the balcony, even his socks had been soiled, and took him to the bathroom. Thank goodness we have hot water every day thanks to our solar heating panels. I gave him a good warm bath all the while tears stinging my eyes. This is too much I kept saying to myself. This is too much!! After I got him dressed I asked him to please stay in his room ’cause, frankly, I just couldn’t stand the sight of him at that moment and I don’t care who judges me. I hosed down the balcony like a maniac.  A couple of days ago, again while I left him for just a couple of minutes he soiled our white couch and I had to call a company to have it professionally cleaned, explaining to the cleaning guy that it was my baby girl who had done the ‘deed’ and not my 4 1/2 year old son, though I don’t think he believed me but who cares.  And then on the phone with my father-in-law last night I told him to look after my baby girl because I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Yes, I thought about taking my own life. And he said that it’s just the sleep deprivation talking because even though Panayioti is thankfully a very good sleeper, little Maria isn’t. All day long I take care of Panayioti, take on the heavy, at times overwhelming, task that is looking after a non-verbal child and then at nights I stay up because Maria is going through a no-sleep phase. It could be because we let her take 3-hour naps in the afternoon but still. I am so sleep-deprived that at times I find myself lost in my train of thought, tongue-tied and just confused. Is it early Alzheimer’s? No, it’s sleep deprivation, and it’s a bitch!  My in-laws offered to keep her last night so I could get a good night’s sleep and thank God they did because this morning I woke refreshed and ready to take on whatever (shit – pun intended) life has in store for me. The suicidal thoughts –  I’m sure I’m not the only parent of a child on the spectrum to have. All last summer, except for that one day the day of his birthday party where he miraculously stopped shrieking, when Panayioti was at his worst, my baby girl and having some really close friends and my sister to talk to was pretty much what kept me from acting out on such thoughts. I even went so far as to write a note. It’s sad I know. It’s depressing when I think about, so I try not to. Just like the spitting phase came and went, this too shall pass. It shall, it shall, it shall.

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