ASD,
She dropped to her knees in tears, covering her face helplessly. I took my son by the hand and briskly walked him into my bedroom. I kneeled down to his level, gently placed my hands on his arms. "Krisjon, why did you do that?!" "Why did you break Laila's mirror?" He hung his head low and mumbled "Laila broke my Peanut butter sandwich".
I looked in awe. Remembering the incident that occurred earlier. Krisjon had asked me to make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. At the time I was tied up, trying to get the trash pulled to the curb before the garbage truck arrived.
My 6th grader over heard our conversation and said "Mom, I'll make it."
Everyone in the home knows Krisjon has his quirks about food and how it's prepared, but its pretty routine and we're all fairly comfortable making it.
Laila squeezed the perfect amount of jelly (too much and you risk getting it on his hands), she spread the proper amount of peanut butter (too little and he will call you out on it), and an additional dollop of butter on the spoon as a treat.
Something went wrong.
Horribly wrong.
Something Laila was not aware of. At some point during the sandwich making process the bread got a crack in it. I being his daily cook, was mindful of previous bread break drama but in recent months had become a PB&J master chef.
If I noticed imperfection in a bread slice I would quickly hit it out of the ball park. (Now you know what the baseball bat was for in that peanut butter and jelly song). (Whoever wrote it must have had a child on the spectrum).
I recall Krisjon mumbling something about his food, taking a bite and throwing it away. I didn't think much about it, as he tends to trash food often. He usually will cry out or make a huge fuss about it, but I was thinking, well he is getting a little older and may be handling things a little better.
What I now know is his handling was not necessarily better, but different. Instead of having a meltdown he chose an "eye for an eye" sort of approach.
To many of us a favorite personal item such as a beautiful handheld mirror and a crack in a PB&J sandwich may not seem equal, but to my child with ASD it seemed appropriate.
I talked to him about it. I stressed that it wasn't nice and that Laila didn't mean to make him a sandwich with a break in the bread. I talk to him about how special the mirror was to her and also how he could have injured himself by breaking it.
We are currently addressing some issues with his aggression and communication but I will save that for another post.
I hugged and apologized to my daughter. I explained to her how much I appreciate her and how sorry I was that this happened. I also knew that nothing would replace that particular mirror, but vowed we would find her a similar one.
Does your child have any food rituals? Leave a comment and share, I'd love to hear about them.
TBT Post: When Peanutbutter and Jelly Goes Wrong
"I HOPE YOU HAVE 7 YEARS OF BAD LUCK!!" ....these blood boiling words screamed from my 11 year old daughter's mouth. Just seconds after witnessing her 5-year-old brother dash into her room, grab her favorite hand held mirror, and stomp it into pieces.She dropped to her knees in tears, covering her face helplessly. I took my son by the hand and briskly walked him into my bedroom. I kneeled down to his level, gently placed my hands on his arms. "Krisjon, why did you do that?!" "Why did you break Laila's mirror?" He hung his head low and mumbled "Laila broke my Peanut butter sandwich".
I looked in awe. Remembering the incident that occurred earlier. Krisjon had asked me to make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. At the time I was tied up, trying to get the trash pulled to the curb before the garbage truck arrived.
My 6th grader over heard our conversation and said "Mom, I'll make it."
Everyone in the home knows Krisjon has his quirks about food and how it's prepared, but its pretty routine and we're all fairly comfortable making it.
Laila squeezed the perfect amount of jelly (too much and you risk getting it on his hands), she spread the proper amount of peanut butter (too little and he will call you out on it), and an additional dollop of butter on the spoon as a treat.
Something went wrong.
Horribly wrong.
Something Laila was not aware of. At some point during the sandwich making process the bread got a crack in it. I being his daily cook, was mindful of previous bread break drama but in recent months had become a PB&J master chef.
If I noticed imperfection in a bread slice I would quickly hit it out of the ball park. (Now you know what the baseball bat was for in that peanut butter and jelly song). (Whoever wrote it must have had a child on the spectrum).
I recall Krisjon mumbling something about his food, taking a bite and throwing it away. I didn't think much about it, as he tends to trash food often. He usually will cry out or make a huge fuss about it, but I was thinking, well he is getting a little older and may be handling things a little better.
What I now know is his handling was not necessarily better, but different. Instead of having a meltdown he chose an "eye for an eye" sort of approach.
To many of us a favorite personal item such as a beautiful handheld mirror and a crack in a PB&J sandwich may not seem equal, but to my child with ASD it seemed appropriate.
I talked to him about it. I stressed that it wasn't nice and that Laila didn't mean to make him a sandwich with a break in the bread. I talk to him about how special the mirror was to her and also how he could have injured himself by breaking it.
We are currently addressing some issues with his aggression and communication but I will save that for another post.
I hugged and apologized to my daughter. I explained to her how much I appreciate her and how sorry I was that this happened. I also knew that nothing would replace that particular mirror, but vowed we would find her a similar one.
Does your child have any food rituals? Leave a comment and share, I'd love to hear about them.
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