Signal Output Divergence

My father passed away less than two days ago. Even though it was peaceful and anticipated, it was emotional. While I was at his home, I had James stay here with a friend. When I returned from being with my mother and family, I was exhausted and wrung out.

James focused on getting computer time and complained after I had him stop after an hour. He paced to and fro, argued almost every statement I made, and muttered under his breath over and over how upset he was and how mean I was.

I told him he needed to be nicer to me, because my father just died and I was sad and upset. Also, we were going to bed early. He fought that too.

James sometimes has trouble talking about anxiety, sadness, or loneliness. These emotions tend to come out as agitation and behaviours.

I know he understands that I am feeling sad. There is a great big "now what?" disconnect between knowing this and being able to express sympathy or compassion in a recognizable way.

Day in the Life, or Whatever ...

Ever wonder what it's like parenting an autistic kiddo? Here's a snapshot for me today:

• My father passed away after a long illness. Peacefully, but still. We loved him, and we have Grief and Feelings.
• James is already stressing over starting a new school. Everything unfamiliar: school, buildings, district, kids, teachers.
• Thanking the Universe that a friend's son can be with James at our place, because he'd stim like crazy and raise the stress level at my parents' place.
• Emails to work, about leave, scheduling, and paperwork. Would not do to get fired.
• Text a few friends. Just a few because yeah, lack of socializing is still happening.
• Text ex, to not be surprised if a different teen boy answers the phone at my place. 
• Answer phone call from James, asking when I am coming home. Direct him to find where I left his breakfast and to came right back to the phone. Hang up phone after 5 minutes and assume he is now eating his cinnamon bread.
• Drink coffee.
• Feed cats.
• Hug waking family members, especially teen daughter.
• Feed dog and fill water bowl
• Play online Mahjongg until Hospice opens and we can arrange the rest of the day.
• Go to daughter's HS, to explain why she is missing the last day of summer school. Because it's summer school and no one is one phones in the office right now.
• Clean cat boxes.
• Drink coffee.
• Do a donut and quiche run. Because you never know.
• Watch your Mother change her mind on the phone. A lot. Admire the fact that she's still going to her cancer therapy appointment, wearing a tie-tied shirt.
• Hug your family members.
• Be the one who is crying.
• Drink more coffee.
• Take donuts and snacks to teen boys and set up the day together.
• Hug everyone, including the cat.
• Try to talk with your autistic son about what is going on and watch him slide down the hall in response. Get hugged by other teen boy who gets it.
• Drive back and void being hit by Kamakazi drivers.
• Worry about the smoke from 2 fires that bring back so many unpleasant memories from last October. And tell yourself they are NOT getting closer. So there. Not. Closer.
• Be thankful James is not here because they are cutting up a tree and shredding the limbs with gas-powered mayhem.
• Eat some chips.
• Keep up emails with new school district about coordinating the start of school and read their bilingual, 42-page newsletter.
• Water plants.
• Check bank balance and figure the bills to pay this week.
• Be on hand to help prep for the mortuary pickup.

This is just from 6:30am to 11:30 this morning. My parents' house is so quiet now.