Exclusion Day

We collected Sam from school today only to be told he was being permanently excluded for throwing a chair, which unfortunately hit a teacher. We knew that this would happen eventually; I went to see the new Headteacher yesterday to tell her that it was unlikely Sam's Statement of Special Educational Needs would be through for September, and, therefore, Sam would most likely be with them still in September, and was met with a barrage of complaints. These included comments which were wholly inappropriate for me to hear, which were extremely negative about my son, and which demonstrated a complete lack of understanding about his condition. They intimated that they wouldn't continue to accommodate him and, given one more outburst, would move towards permanent exclusion. Then today, they exclude him.

Obviously, I am extremely sorry that the teacher was hurt - I was assured that it wasn't serious. However, Sam was completely unaware that she had been hit, and, as far as he was concerned, had moved out of the way. Its rare for him to want to hurt deliberately. Also, he acted out of frustration because she was insisting he do something which, according to him with limited theory of mind, he had already done.

We're all a little shocked and have paused to gather our thoughts tonight. Tomorrow we'll begin the battle to find appropriate provision for him.

Bye Baby Bunting

Sam has a cold today, and I was concerned about sending him to school as he can't always tell you if he is feeling ill. I rattled off a note to his teacher and sent him with this, hoping she'd read it. He has been sent home so many times for bad behaviour when he's been really quite ill. After last week's chair throwing episode I wasn't certain he'd last the morning if he wasn't well, but he did.

However, I could tell that he wasn't feeling great because he was obsessing about going to Aldi where he'd seen a parking sensor he wants. It looks like a mini traffic light and he just has to have it - we're making him 'earn' the money for it - and he wanted to check that the shop still had them. Once there, he demanded I buy various other things instead, because he knew he hasn't earned enough money for the sensor.

I find these trips very difficult. If I hadn't taken him, his anxiety about whether the shop still had them would have resulted in difficult behaviour. Yet I don't want to feed his anxieties, either.

I miss normal. I miss not being able to pop into the shop for a pint of milk without having to explain why we can't spend £55 on a portable DVD player, when he needs it, now. I miss not being able to 'pop' anywhere. If I take Sam shopping I have to prepare a visual timetable and a visual shopping list. I have to explain if we go to shops not on our list, or buy items we haven't previously drawn. I don't feel resentment, just utter sadness that our little boy is terrified of spontaneity, of freedom and impulse.

After a manic few hours spent trying to calm Sam, he spent much of this evening, following his bath, hiding under a blue towel watching an episode of "Chuggington" on iplayer eating brioche and repeating his favorite lines over and over. R thought this was hilarious and tried to hide with him, much to his horror. She then proceeded to parade around the living room with a towel draped over her, bumping into the furniture. So much for settling down quietly before bed.

When I finally got her to bed she was hyper. Sam loves watching "Horrid Henry" and R lay in her cot singing "Na na na na na!". Oh my goodness! Suddenly, I remembered the nursery rhyme "Bye Baby Bunting", and, as I couldn't bring myself to sing the "Horrid Henry" theme tune as a lullaby, I sang this, and finally she drifted off happily clutching Foxy.

Today's my birthday and Father's Day.

A difficult day for Sam. Too much excitement, not something he copes well with, and although we had prepared him and told him what was going to happen today, it was almost too much. We nearly didn't get out of the house - we had planned to go to Stratford and the Butterfly Farm - because he wanted to go and buy something he'd seen whilst out shopping yesterday. He was so upset he began to throw my presents and told us we could go but he was staying in the house. In the end we promised he could earn the money throughout the week doing chores. Its so hard for him when he obsesses about things; he can't help himself, and I can't imagine what it must be like needing something so badly, like an addict needing their next fix.

We had a lovely day, the kid's enjoyed the Butterfly Farm. Sam took dozens of photographs of the butterflies, which he is loves. Its the detail which he notices when others don't. He was thrilled when one landed on his head, and he loved feeding the Carp that were swimming in the pond. Of course, we had to navigate the obligatory shop, but we'd laid the ground rules beforehand and we coped. He bought a pen with a sand timer in, which he immediately wanted to dismantle. I managed to dissuade him with promises that he could take the timer out next week. His bedroom is littered with dismantled toys. Is it a phase or the AS? Whatever, its expensive!

We ate dinner by the river bank despite the drizzle. We couldn't face the restaurant we'd chosen. L's ipod had died and we knew he wouldn't be in the mood to be distracted otherwise, so we bought fish and chips and sat watching the ducks.

Finally, we took them to the play area near the river bank, which they loved. Lots of sand and water play. Perfect tactile stimulation, very calming. For one moment things felt normal. Even when someone stepped on his foot and knocked his plastic water bottle out of his hand he didn't overreact. That was the best part of the day. That, and the cake the kids and L made me. A good day. Not easy, but good.