Alright guys, let's be real for a minute. So I'm in a furious hate battle with Autism/Anxiety and ADHD this morning.  As many of you know, our son Caleb battles against them every second of every minute of every day of his life.

Well, Caleb's old enough to go to the big summer camps with the guys from church now days. And we've been preparing for a four day camp for the last three weeks. "We," meaning me, Leif, the bishop, Jakob, and Caleb. Because of Caleb's battles we've had to plan everything down to the T. Where's he going to sleep? Will Jakob be with him? Can they get special permission for music at night? Which meds will we send? Who will administer them? Does he have enough of his "only" shirts? The only ones he'll wear. Does he need headphones? Maybe earplugs,instead? How about eye covers at night? No, that would freak him out more. Get new shoes so he has a worn out pair for the lake. So the others stay dry. Swimsuit. Re-string the swimsuit with a non-tying waistband he can tighten. Tying. Do we need to tell the leaders ahead of time that Caleb just can't figure out how to tie yet? No, Jakob can help if need be. ... poor Jakob.

Getting closer to GO day. "Mom, can I take the foam airplane?" No. "Whyx10". *Note to Everyone, hide Caleb's bow and arrow to avoid that potential fight.* "Mom, Can I take ...?" No. "Whyx10."

Twenty four hours before GO day. Time to pack everything up. Thank HEAVEN Leif is home!!! Jakob, you pack yourself, your way. Leif, you pack Caleb's non clothing items. I will gather all clothes. GO!!! *Enters Caleb.* He's pale, floppy, moaning, groaning, out of breath.  Honestly, nothing too out of the ordinary. Word on the downstairs street says that he had a terrible night which included screaming, lack of sleep, and sleeping in Jakobs room. Another somewhat normal night. Okay, Hydrate. Eat. Help out. Rest. Moan. Groan. Get on everyone's nerves. As usual. *poor guy!*
Continue packing until nap time. Time for the last load of laundry. Insist with a fight, that Caleb take off his last Only shirt. Give him a hug as I grab the shirt. WTHeck!!! 😱😱🤒 Caleb feels really warm.🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ Temp check. OMGsh!!! He has a fever. You've got to be kidding!? Hope that it's a fluke and he'll still be able to go. Medicate. GO lay down. Two hours later. Caleb's cheerful and normal temp. They watch a movie. I finish packing. Four hours later. Bedtime. Caleb has the chills and aches.😥. Temp check. Fever's back. 😭😭😭 Explain that he can't go. No! It's not a consequence. It's just an illness so he can't go. Text Bishop and let him know. Tuck the boys in for bed.
6:00AM the next morning. Leif walks out of the bedroom to take Jakob to the church. Caleb literally wakes up the rest of the household by a blood curdling scream. Because Leif scared him while he was getting a yogurt out of the fridge.🤦‍♀️ Apparently he's ravenously hungry. He goes down to his room with the yogurt. I enter the scene and update with Leif. JJ yells from downstairs that Caleb "wants food brought to him."😱🤦‍♀️ Really!!?? Right Now!? As we're trying to get Jakob out the door!? I throw him a Slimfast drink. Hug Jakob big, say goodbye, and go back to bed. Leif and Jakob leave to the church.
Ten minutes later. Caleb screams for me from the kitchen. Twice. Sounding like a maniac and re-waking Joshua up. I realize that he's about to puke. I think to myself murderous thoughts as I run to the door to remind this thirteen year old to get to the toilet. I mean, why The He$% did he have to run up the stairs to tell me!? He was laying Next To the toilet down stairs. I open the door as Caleb leans over the toilet. Pretty much in a standing position. Puke spews all over the toilet seat. Over his arm. To the floor. And down into the air vent next to the toilet. All I can see is RED! My teeth are clenched so tight, I might break my fake teeth. I walk into my room and lock the door behind me. I'm So Angry!
Three minutes pass. Caleb screams out to me. Twice. I wonder if he's about to pass out. I go out. He's standing in the bathroom doorway with his arm up and dripping, crying that he needs a towel. I hold back a few words. Wrap some paper towels around his arm and demand he go take a shower.
I Hate neurological disorders that steal commonsense, household peace, and chew away at relationships. It's times like these when it's all a little too much.