Hug-able ; Perfectionism

A few months ago, E blurted out, "Look, Mom! She's FAT!" about a stranger in a waiting area.  I was so shocked, I didn't know what to say but my eyes were as big as dinner plates. 

In an attempt to curb any future rude outbursts, I tried to explain that commenting about how people look is rude and can hurt their feelings.  I always try to come up with something more appropriate for my kids to say or do to replace the bad, and this time, I decided that "hug-able" was a better word.  "It's best to say nothing, but if you absolutely *must* say something, use the word 'hug-able' instead.

I obviously had no idea how rigid E's thinking is.  Suddenly caterpillars became hug-able.  Markers were hug-able.  Dogs, books, toys... if it was large, it was hug-able.  I quickly revised and told him that only people were hug-able.  You could use the word "fat" if it wasn't about people.

I thought it was all okay... until last week, he told his therapist that he couldn't eat baby carrots because they would make him hug-able.  Thankfully he mumbled it and she's not the most lovey-dovey listener, so I didn't have to explain what in the world he was talking about.  "Carrots will make me hug-able."  My poor child sounds crazy.

And that's the first thing that crossed my mind when I read that people with Asperger's have very rigid thinking. 

Right now the boys are supposed to be having quiet hour.  Instead E is laying in the floor next to me in a heap of tears. He'd been doing a color by letter workbook very happily until he accidentally colored a dog's ear brown instead of black.  Now he's screaming that he can't do it, he doesn't want to do anything but cry, he hates his family and he has to be able to see me. 

I've tried offering other activities.  I've tried teaching him about "creativity" and changing the letters so what he did will be right (totally not something a teacher will be able to do, but, well, we'll cross that bridge later).  I tried distraction.  I tried leaving him alone.  I've tried it all, but nothing works.  Nothing works but letting him explode, implode and swear off coloring for the next 6 months.

I'm halfway through my second book about this.  I cannot wait to hear some better suggestions about what to do with the perfectionism.  I'm lost.  And I'm pissed that he won't go to his room.  All of the ways I'd parent a "neurotypical" child backfire with him and just make everything worse. 

The issue isn't his heart.  He's not trying to disobey. His dysfunctional brain cannot process the mistake.  I don't know why; it just doesn't.  And when it's Meltdown City, there's no ordering him to do anything.  It's all I can do to maintain my own level of calm.  The books say that getting emotional or spanking or yelling  or physically moving him to a time out just makes it all exponentially worse, and I can fully attest to that.  SuperNanny is good... but she doesn't work over here on my oldest.  His brain is different; our methods will be different.

My husband just called.  He tried all the things I did, with his own twist.  None of it worked.  Then he had to go back to class, and me holding the bag.  (Ahh, the life of Mom. I am clearly earning my keep here.)  My solution of the day?  Bribing them with candy.  If they can complete a full quiet hour, they will get a sucker.  (I feel like a sucker.)

They are both upstairs now being incredibly loud and silly--- a high to match the low.

(((E needs his own space.  Z wants no space.  I don't know how we're going to make it work in our new house. I don't know which kids should share rooms or if we need a sleeping room and a playing room.  I love their brother bond, but they both need a place to go when life together gets to be too much.  And both of those places shouldn't be next to me.  I need my own space, too... for the sake of the family.)))

Earlier today E was coloring a poster with frogs and turtles.  He said, "I wish they could talk and tell me what color they are."  I thought it was a really fascinating statement.  Almost philosophical.  Until I realized that it's his perfectionism talking.  He doesn't want to make a mistake so badly that coloring a poster is a challenge.  What if the turtles won't like what color I've made them?  What if it's *wrong*??

I can only almost begin to imagine.  When I was little, I had all of my stuffed animals on a sleeping rotation. I chose 7 favorites; one for each night of the week. Then I thought that the Monday animal might feel slighted for not getting a fun weekend night, so I rotated what day of the week they were on.  I wanted to phase in another rotation of animals, should the ones on the shelf feel totally left out, but after making so many lists to cover the day-of-the-week changes, I was too tired and decided it would just have to do.

I wonder how far E is going to have to be pushed to get to "that will just have to do."  How do I get him there??  Will he *ever* get there?  My heart hurts with each shove in that direction.  :(