The I touch has been confiscated...

So this is what my son's I-touch looks like.  Why are we looking at it as opposed to looking at a nice pretty pic of Alex actually using it?  Because he got it taken away, that's why.  It's now living in the cabinet above the fridge.  The worst criminal offence in our house occurred and in a moment of pure insanity I mouthed these words, "That is IT.  I have had ENOUGH.  Hand me your I-touch.  NOW."

I have no idea why he has a pic of my sister's cat for his background.



And what was really weird was that part of me was going, Oh shit.  Take it back!  Take it all back...quick!  You did not just say that.  You still have time.  Crap, crap, CRAP.  Now what are you going to do with them all day?

And another part of me was like, Oh yeah, who's got the upper hand now?  I do, that's who.  You wanna piece of me?  I'm in charge of this whole operation.  I'll teach you a thing or two.  Ha, Ha, HA! 

Totally sick, right?!?

So, I'll back up a bit.  We're on the tail end of Spring Break (I feel it's a worthy event so I'm going to continue putting it in All Caps) and today is the day Alex has had an uber bad day.  To be honest I'm quite impressed we avoided a major meltdown till now.  And I could see it coming a mile away.  He's gradually become more ticish, been going to bed later each night and last night he didn't eat any of his Dairy Queen blizzard--major red flag.  Not eating Dairy Queen is like the pin being pulled out of the grenade.  Just a matter of time folks.  The whole week has been off kilter so it was just a matter of time. 

This morning a series of small events triggered him and he's come undone.  I'm all for having a bad day and a good cry but when it starts to involve throwing TV remotes and three hundred dollar electronics, my sympathy meter goes down real quick.  Not only was he throwing them, he was aiming them at his sisters.  Thankfully OT hasn't gotten too far with his gross motor skills so he came nowhere near close to hitting either of them but that is not the point.  The intent was there. 

First he didn't get the waffle he wanted--it was too brown.  The next one was too soft.  This was like Goldilocks gone wrong.  Anyway, the third one, well I don't know what the hell was wrong with the third one but he wasn't having it.  He was pissed.  I made homemade waffles and he didn't like a single one.  Then he didn't get to watch How It's Made with breakfast.  Then Lizzy was sitting too close.  Lord in Heaven, then she was touching him.  Then they had a girl fight.  Then I don't know what the fuck went wrong but it did and things went flying and before 9:00AM I was uttering these words, "That is IT.  I have had ENOUGH.  Hand me your I-touch.  NOW."  

Which is why we're looking at this little specimen of technology and he's not.

I mean, on my phone I have a pic him and on his, he puts a pic of
my sister's cat.  Humph.  Clearly I rank second to the cat.

Now I've been expecting this little meltdown and frankly its late.  So that's why when it happened this morning it was worse that getting my period.  He was bound and determined to have a bad day.  And better yet, he was trying to take the rest of us down with him and that just won't do.  I'm sticking to my guns and he's not getting that little wonder of technology till tomorrow.

I have to get running as I just heard my husband say something about loosing the TV in a rather loud voice.  If Alex gets shut out from How It's Made, I'm royally and totally screwed. 



NOTE: Just so everyone knows, I'm doing everything possible to accommodate him today and have been over the past week.  I know being 'off schedule' is difficult for him on the best of days.  We've worked really hard at keeping things on schedule, given him advance warning and have penciled in everything including lunch and Lego's, but I did want Spring Break to be a vacation for him.  Make it fun.  Push him a little, just enough to help him understand life is not a script.  And when it gets to be too much I can pull back and be mom.  Just this time without the I-touch.