I call them pickles...

Leaving Jazz in the care of someone else has always been difficult.  Jazz is extremely impulsive and takes advantage of any little thing she can.  If we tell her she cannot have sweets like cookies or ice cream while she is with someone, she will con them into candy.  My dad always said that even if you hired the worlds best babysitter, she would convince that person to tie themselves up in the closet covered in duck tape while Jazz destroys the furniture with knives.  And the babysitter will say that it was indeed a good idea.  She is just plain hard to handle.

So needless to say, we don't leave her very often and don't get any breaks from the 24 hour supervision and care she needs.  I frequently will provide respite for my mom along with the help of my husband, Matt.  We will not only take her for an afternoon, but for a week at time whenever we can.  One of these weeks happened to be during a time when I still had to attend classes.  This meant Jazz was going to be left with my husband for a few hours.  He had handled this before so I knew it would be just fine.  It was fine, except for one small hitch when it came to snack time.

We had gone to the grocery store the day before and let her pick out all of her favorite foods, since due to sensory problems she will only have a handful of preferred foods at a time.  I put her snacks and meals for the day out and organized in the fridge before I left so Matt would have no issues feeding her.

She asked Matt for pickles at snack time.  He looked at her funny and asked if she was sure.  And she said in an agitated voice that yes she wanted pickles to eat and that she ate them all the time.  Matt checked the fridge and could not find pickles.  He told this to Jazz and she responded even more agitated saying that she knows we bought them yesterday.  "Yesterday when we were at the store!"  So, he looked again.

She then started yelling because he was not meeting her request.  This is common for her to go from 0 to 1000 in seconds if she feels like you are not hearing her or meeting her needs.  She just kept saying, "PICKLES!  I want pickles! I want pickles!  Sissy got me pickles!"

Matt was just stumped because there were no pickles anywhere in the house.  So, he decided to describe a pickle to her, since he has learned the hard way  that if you are not fluent in Jazz, then all hell can break loose.  He asked if she was indeed looking for the little green things that float in water inside a jar.  She yelled back, "NO! I WANT PICKLES!!!!!"

She came over to the fridge and pointed to the bell pepper slices I had left for her.  And Matt said, "Ooooohhhh. You want peppers?"

She sheepishly replied, "Yes I want peppers..." And then to save face said, "I call them pickles..."

We all love this story because it truly depicts everyday life in our house and the picture perfect example of pediatric TBI.  She is easily agitated, frequently has word finding problems, and has difficulty communicating her needs.  Luckily, she has a good sense of humor so Matt and her began laughing once she had her peppers and she still thinks that this story is a funny one.

Much Love!

I call them pickles...