Monday, August 15, 2011

Jake's Obsession


Jake continues to cut and cut and cut. We have piles of little pieces of construction paper that Jake has cut. First it was book marks. Now it’s money. It drives his mother crazy. Truthfully, it drives us all crazy because Jake has a habit of giving away his bookmarks and money and then checking back in to see if you still have them. He expects you to show them to him, so you can’t just tell him they’re safe. He gets quite upset if you can’t locate them.

It’s even worse when he finds his own storage place for his paper treasures. He still expects you to be able to find them for him when you have no idea where he put them. He has a meltdown every few days over missing paper. He’s a little OCD. I’m not sure how to deal with him sometimes. Help him find the paper? Encourage him to get over the loss? Run and hide?

Saturday night is a prime example. Jake made bandaids. He took small strips of orange paper and added tape to make them little rings—or bandaids as he informed us. He made ten or so and then cut the rest of the paper into short and long strips which he informed us were money. Then he handed out his treasures. Great-grandma received a few bandaids as did I. I set mine aside. A short time later he informed me that he wanted them back tomorrow morning. Later he clarified that it wouldn’t be early in the morning, but part way through the morning.

At bedtime, he verified that I understood that I was to keep watch over the bandaids and return them in the morning. He asked about great-grandma’s bandaids and if they were safe. I assured him they were. I did not go and verify this which turned out to be a mistake, but seriously who has time to babysit a pile of bandaids?!

After church Sunday morning Jake asked for his bandaids. I produced mine. Great-grandma had lost hers—which is odd since she doesn’t move around much. I don’t think Jake made it clear to her that she would have to give them back. I told Jake great-grandma has used her bandaids. Yes, I fabricated a story. That’s how difficult it is to deal with Jake!

Things were fine until Jake started in on his money. Where was his money?! Well, I asked him, where did you leave it? He didn’t know. Kara thought maybe it was upstairs with his hoard of bandaids. I located two baggies filled with paper scraps. I tried to convince him the money was in one of the bags. No go. There weren’t any (or enough? or the right size?) orange scraps.

Then Jake remembered that he’d left his money on the kitchen floor when he went to bed. His mom had put it away. Eventually we got his mom to check on where she’d put yesterday’s art projects. She found the money. Jake calmed down.

A short while later he handed me a stack of blue money. I immediately went and found an envelope and put the money in it and labeled it. I am not going to be responsible for the next meltdown. And I’m not going to lie again, either.

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