The Big Scary Witch

The new me.

I tell Girly to get in the shower, for the second time. "No, I'm not!" She screams this from the other room at me. "Yes, you are. Right now. Get up the steps & into the bathroom." This does not go over well with her. She lets me know this by her shrill screams.

I find her getting undressed in the bathroom with tears streaming down her face. "Why?", she wants to know. "Because you need to get clean. Besides, I don't remember the last time you got a shower."

Yes, I know. Please don't judge me.

I look at her hair. It's all matted & tangled. "We'll need to brush your hair before we can wash it." I grab the bottle of detangler & start spraying. She loudly objects to this. "I'm sorry, but your hair is a mess." After I use half the bottle, I start combing. "No!" The tears are rolling down her checks & dropping on the floor. "Stop it!"

"I'm sorry, Sweety. Hold still & it will be done sooner." She continues to cry & scream. At this point Hubby comes upstairs to see what the commotion is all about. "Girly's hair is a mess. She hasn't brushed it in 2 or 3 days."

I get it all brushed out in 15 minutes. I turn on the shower, & she gets in. "Get your hair wet. Make sure you get the top of your head all wet." I go downstairs to explain to Hubby that I am getting tired of washing & brushing Girly's hair. He is sympathetic & says that he could brush her hair in the evenings. "That's nice, but it needs brushed & fixed in the morning."

I go back upstairs to check on Girly's progress. I open the curtain & she loudly exclaims, "You're big scary witch!" "That is NOT nice." She cries some more. I get the shampoo & start scrubbing her semi-wet hair. "You're big scary witch!", she yells at me while looking into my dumbfounded eyes.

 My heart sinks, & I proceed to explain to her that her words hurt Mommy, & now she must go to bed without popcorn. This proclamation was met with despair & protest from her. I continue to wash her hair & tell her to rinse. I help her to rinse & put the conditioner in & help her rinse that, too. She starts to clean with the washcloth & soap.

I go back downstairs & ask my Hubby, "How much longer do I have to wash her hair? She's almost 11. I shouldn't have to keep doing this." "Soon, Dear, she'll do it by herself," he reassures me. "She won't do it by herself. I have to help her or it won't get done. She won't even get a shower without me telling her."

 Now I'm just complaining. "Do everything without grumbling or arguing," Philippians 2:14

You see, autism is weird. It doesn't care if it didn't get a shower, change it's clothes, brush it's hair, wash it's face, wear deodorant, match it's clothes or brush it's teeth. These are all things that most normal people care about. Picture Albert Einstein. He wasn't making a fashion statement with his hair. He had autistic tendencies.

I am reminded of what Jesus told his disciples. “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’" Matthew 25:40

Now, I'm not saying that my daughter is any less of a person because she has autism. She just has less skills & certain abilities that others. 

I go back upstairs & into her room to see if she's dressed. She's wearing long-sleeve flannel pajamas. "You need to brush your hair." "Okay, Mama." I hand her the brush & watch. She does about half of it & puts the brush away. "Babe, you didn't finish. Can I help you?"