Our remotes are all kept out of reach. The DVDs are hidden. The pantry now has a lock. Our sliders all have tension rods in them. We tie the refrigerator closed with a red ribbon which must be tied in a double knot or he can get it open. We block our front door with a couch. The stereo and cd player have been purposely unplugged and the pine cabinet it sits in has been nailed shut. Come to the front door and it might take a minute while I move the fancy furniture arrangement which acts as a barricade to keep him from escaping. I've asked Jim if it might be possible to bring home some cement K-Rail from one of his jobs because if the Doodle really puts his back into it, he can move the furniture--yes, he's strong.
Besides salsa and taking the lids off of drinks and dumping them out, his absolute favorite thing to do now is to run out the front door and try all the car doors to see if by chance any of them are unlocked. He loves to sit in the car and press all the buttons and flip the mirror down and check himself out and it's a big Christmas bonus if we've left the remote for the garage in there. He likes to get all the garage doors opening and closing at the same time; it must make him feel like he's in charge of something grand. He likes to play Chinese fire drill and get out and run around the car and get back in and climb over the seats and get out and get back in and so forth. It's not hurting much--but I fear he is going to slam his hand in the door because car doors are heavy for a four year old and I know it's a matter of time. What's that you say? Try locking the car doors. Uhm, yes. We do that. He now will go into the drawer where we keep our keys or even into my purse in order to find the keys and he runs outside with them--hitting the buttons on the key-faub-remote. Sometimes he gets lucky and hits the unlock button, other times he just sets off the alarm. Regardless of which thing he is ocd'ing about--I am constantly yelling "No, No, No, No, No". The word "NO" does not phase him. Neither does: Stop, Put it down and Get Back Here. What happened to the good old days when he would walk around pushing his little cart and obsess about that? At least that was just one thing to obsess about and it was managable and harmless.
I'm not sure what this all means. I keep waiting for him to grow out of "it". But I know he won't. The OCD is part of him just like his brown hair and green eyes.
I can't fathom the joy that these odd things bring to my son. He'd rather turn the lights and equipment in our house on and off than play with fabulous toys that he has which he has no interest in. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder--just one more special little gift from the family of autism we get to enjoy.