a picture worth 1,000 words?

Hayden tends to become obsessed with things out of the blue-- something he just has to have. So far, eventually it will wear off and he'll become obsessed with something else.

One day he was fixed on getting a hold of the baby powder. The finale was a couple years ago when he took a bunch of his pickup trucks, put them on his bed, and then filled the truck beds with the powder. Except he lacks the fine motor needed to maintain a steady hand, and his aim is not great. Also, his spacial relations can be off and he may not realize that too much of something simply can not fit in something else. So basically his bed looked like a horrible accident on a snowy highway.

So we hid the powder way up high in his closet. It's been there ever since.

We also went through a water obsession. Luckily he can not reach the kitchen sink without standing on a chair, and even the sink in the masterbath he needs a step stool. But the sink in the main bath is a pedestal style, so he can reach that just fine. He would just turn it on and make a mess until he was soaked and so was the bathroom.

We had already turned off the hot water in there as a precaution, but eventually the prevention graduated to a child lock on the doorknob.

There have been tools he's been obsessed with, and made quite a bit of damage with. Just because they're intended for play and made out of wood or plastic doesn't mean they can't cause a dent. Or scratch. Or gash. Depends how much umph is behind it.

I can't even count how many tools we've had to hide from him over the years. I keep finding toy hammers in the most random places.

The DVD cabinet was an annoying obsession... we fought over that door countless times. Eventually the child-lock broke. It was never replaced because Hayden moved on to something else.

There have been so many obsessions over the years... the fax machine, the one wall phone in this house in the kitchen, certain snacks which he will only want for a period of time, and a recent one that is particularly annoying: he "hits us up" for cash. He wants his dollars, real ones, in his wallet. It's absurd.

Although none have been worse than his keen sense for where our car keys are, and his unrelenting determination to get his hands on them.

Well, the other day Mr. Hayden wanted something new: one of my binders. I have several with his school papers in them, plus a bunch from freelancing, and so forth. Yesterday for the life of me I could not get him away from them. So I promised him I'd make him his very own binder.

I filled it with random pages of information and pictures-- our home, our street address, telephone number, his school, there's a section on colors, one on emotions... you get the idea.

I am not even exaggerating when I say that after school today, he was so beyond thrilled to see it that you would've thought I just gave him a bucket of munchkins. Wrapped in cash.

I lost count of how many times he thanked me.

So while he was glowing over his binder, I emptied his backpack. The first thing I always do is look in the parent-teacher communication books. I was slightly concerned over today being his turn for Show & Tell. He only wanted to bring his leafblower to school, and the current theme is supposed to be something your family enjoys together. So I made a picture of him blowing leaves, and the description says that his family likes to be outside together and Dad will hit some golf balls, and Mom will water the plants. He is allowed to bring one prop, so the leafblower went on the bus with him. I know that thing can potentially make him hyper, so I discussed rules with him this morning and then prayed.

I anxiously opened his kindergarten book and I saw two notes-- each about a page. One from each of his Aides. I didn't have a very good feeling about it, but Show & Tell wasn't even mentioned. Except my intuition was in fact correct.

First one said that Hayden gave his morning Aide a very hard time changing him today. There was hitting and spitting involved. The second note was from his afternoon Aide, and she documented that she wasn't sure what set him off but he threw his socks and shoes and gave her a very tough time as well.

How can I not take these things to heart. It kills me. I am thankful for the open communication, no doubt, but I hate HATE reading about his outbursts.

I looked at him laying on his stomach on the living room floor, flipping through his binder with a beaming smile across his face. I went over to him and we looked at a few pages together, and then I asked him what happened today. He sort of looked off in the distance as if he was trying to remember. I told him that his Aides care about him very much, and they are only trying to help him. I told him he needs to be nice to them, and even though they both noted that he apologized he can not be acting that way in the first place.

I know he heard me, and I know understood me, but I also know it's not actually going to stop it from happening again.

As I went through the rest of his backpack, I opened the kindergarten folder and the envelope with his school pictures was in there.

I look at his angelic, happy face and (aside from the hat-head hair and his shirt being awkwardly buttoned up to his chin), I am just in awe of how gorgeous he is. Our son.

And I hate Fragile X so much at that moment. SO much.