Oil . . .

Lord have mercy! I wrote a bit ago about Dustin doing a project in school about taking care of babies. That in itself is dangerous territory for a concrete thinking, low IQ, FAS child who was abused. Trudging up feelings of abuse, abandonment, and all that by taking care of a "fake" infant is not my idea of a fun day!

His class is a classroom of Moderately Mentally Handicapped kids. They vary in abilities. Some of them are pretty darn close to acting like typical 16 year olds, they just have lower IQs. Dustin is of course on the other spectrum and acts like a 4 year old most of the time. They wanted to do a unit on caring for babies. I knew it was a bad plan for Dustin the minute I heard it. I thought it would be quick and we could brush it off. I had no idea they would be making flour sack babies and partner up to take care of their young'ins.

Last time I mentioned this I told you his baby was named "Oil". Swear. to. goodness. When I asked him about it he said it was named after the baby in Popeye. It took me a while to realize he meant Olive Oil and then I reminded him the baby was named "SweePea". He said, "oh, yeah." Robert and I have been quietly referring to the baby as "Gravy" (get it, oil and flour make gravy?!) It cracks me up, and sometimes laughter is by far the best medicine.

Anyway, Gravy Oil came home yesterday for Dustin's turn at caring for her. It was not pretty.

Let me back up. Dustin has issues with believing things are real that are not. He also has issues caring for things that he feels needs protected. A few examples: we once got him one of the Fur-real pets. The ones that you feed and they make noise and you have to put them to sleep. I thought it might help him with the nurturing issues. I was so very wrong! He became absolutely OBSESSED. The thing was ALIVE in his mind. He had to protect it constantly. He was always fretting about whether it was hungry, sleepy or needed him. He was a momma bear. That lasted all of 3 days until I could take no more. I put it in the attic. He kept trying to get in the attic, it was ugly! When he was really off-kilter and stressed he would always pretend he was a momma dinosaur who was protecting her eggs. He would "spit venom" at people who came near him. He would actually spit on people and lash out at them with his "talons" scratching anyone who walked by him. This one went on for well over a year.


So Oil? Not such a good idea. My other fear is that he is schizophrenic and I worry that when he begins talking to things that are not alive and pretending they are I think he can kind of slip into a psychotic state. I can see it. You can see it in his eyes. He kind of leaves reality. I really is frightening. Not frightening in the sense that he would hurt us, but frightening in the sense that he is not really "here" with us.

So Oil came home. Robert was wise and told him she needed to stay in our bedroom. He would run upstairs and feed her and burp her. I tried to keep him occupied so he would forget about her. As soon the kids fell asleep he began obsessing over bringing her down and being near her. I told him no firmly and he started yelling at me that she would die without being fed. I told him in no uncertain terms that a flour sack would be fine without fake formula. HE began to argue that I he was going to tell his teacher on me. He started to freak out that his baby needed a car seat for the bus and demanded I go buy one right then. Lord have mercy! Bedtime could not come soon enough.

This morning McCartney came into my room and Dustin began screaming. At first he was obsessed with always being near the baby. Then he began hollering at the littles about being near her. They couldn't even look in her direction without being screamed at. He would say things like "I am keeping her safe" and "You are not allowed to hurt her, she's mine". It was ugly. He kept talking to the baby and telling her "I will keep you safe. You are okay with me." It was a bit creepy.

The bus could not come soon enough and Dustin and Oil were out the door. (without a carseat! Gasp!) I sent an email off to his teacher. I understand if he has to do this project, but the baby will be put away when it is home. I wanted to let him know that if Dustin says I wouldn't let him do anything that there was a very good reason.

I am too young to be a grandma!