Imp Master J.

Well here we are folks. The moment has finally arrived. Our son, the most beautiful, adorable, cutest kid anywhere on the planet has finally hit the terrible two's. We've been fostering this babe since he was 14 months old and are finally on the adoption track. But lately, I've been having my doubts (not seriously). J. was diagnosed with mid-range ASD last year and on some levels he's in the early toddler/older baby stage. We only needed to close a door to any room and he would not enter where he shouldn't be. In the last week or so, that rule no longer applies. Twice last week he opened the door to the main bathroom and twice I had to replace the brand new rolls of toilet paper. I finally gave up the tp stand and put the roll on an upper shelf of the etagere' above the toilet. We also kept a few things on the window sill that has his dresser in front of it with the boom box on top. Not anymore. His kid size table makes a great "stand" upon which he climbs to get any of the fascinating items once kept on the sill. These little gems now reside on a much higher shelf in his closet. We also kept a small collection of his favorite books on the entertainment center, supposedly out of his reach. Innovative little J. stands on a rocking chair next to the entertainment center and pulls all the books down at once and remains standing while he picks his current favorite read and then climbs down to read it.
The privy in our bedroom conceals his favorite toy of all: The toilet scrub brush! Generally, he keeps it out of his mouth. Yummy treats to eat he saves for the toilet paper he just unravelled from the roll. I don't bother re-rolling the paper. It's too time consuming and it just pisses me off. Sometimes I just want to give him back or maybe just keep him until somebody else adopts him. But of course we love the little tyke and we've all formed a very strong bond, regardless of the hard work involved in raising a child with Autism. So I think I'll welcome nap time this afternoon and have a good stiff drink, which if it weren't damaging to him, I'd let him have one, too.nd a good stiff drink which would be even better if I could share it with him!
We had called him "Poop Master J." for obvious reasons but for now he has been renamed to "Imp Master J." Does this ever end??????????
So says Amma today.