When he’s been so good going to the toilet you feel that you may have got the toilet training, then there’s a few accidents in his pants. Tonight he came downstairs saying poo poo, I replied with aww not in your pants again, but no he wanted to go onto the toilet. Yes we’ve got it, so when he request tub time I took him in the hot tub.

In, bath and pjs for bed. Mouk, he requests mouk so on it goes. He was looking really tired,20 minutes later he was quiet.

I take it back. We went one step forward nine hundred back.

You hit the bottom step, the smell slightly hits you, no he hasn’t, you get to the landing, the smell is stronger he has, but where is it and what will you find, you get to his room and you want to throw up.

He smeared everywhere in his room, all over his bed, his blankets, his quilt, the floor the curtains you name it. The upstairs smells of poo, he’s covered in it eating sweets like the are strawberries dipped in chocolate. He knew it was wrong from the moment I walked in as he tried to cover up.

Not sure who’s going to be sick first me or the husband, he takes him down starts washing him and I’m attempting the bedroom, I’ve open the window but it’s not doing anything. The bed gets stripped the bed gets washed, it’s everywhere.

I shout, I scream, I try to wash him and he’s turning around so I tapped his bum, I feel guilty, he’s crying because I shouted, I cry because I’m feeling guilty for tapping his bum. Then send him to bed without giving him a kiss goodnight and telling him I love him, then sit and feel guilty because I haven’t done our normal goodnight routine.

That’s When I actually hate autism.

I hate the smell of poo. I hate that it goes everywhere and smells, I hate the fact that I can still smell it on him even after scrubbing him with three different soaps.

I hate the fact it makes me shout and scream at him. I hate the fact he’s gone to bed crying becauseI’ve shouted at him. I hate the fact that I have a kitchen smelling of poo because I can’t fit it all in the washing machine. I hate the fact that I lost my temper and actually tapped his bum.

Some days I hate the fact we go so far backwards In a few hours it’s like what’s the point in even trying to go forwards.

I did go kiss him goodnight and close his window it’s too cold to have it open, I did whisper I love you and I’m sorry. I do need to give his bed another clean because I can still smell poo.

But tomorrow is a new day. It can’t be any worse than tonight.

The guilt will stay with me, he’ll forget when he wakes I won’t.

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