I sent him back upstairs to finish shaving and explained that he needs to shave everything if he’s shaving his chin. We went back upstairs, hitting himself along the way because he needed to be reminded to finish shaving.
He came back down five minutes later having only shaved his mustache and leaving the rest of his beard. I sent him back up a second time and he intensified his attacks to his own body.
He came back down about three minutes later, having shaved his cheeks but leaving his neck. I had to send him back a third time to finish the job. This time he was really upset with himself.
He’s eighteen years old and I had to send him back to finish shaving three or four times in a row. If I hadn’t been so busy getting the kids ready and trying to get out the door, I would have walked him through it, step by step.
It’s this kind of thing that shows up in almost every area of his life and it’s so absolutely exhausting for me as a parent. I love Gavin unconditionally but at the same time, knowing that I will have to this until the day I die is overwhelming, demoralizing and frankly, terrifying. Knowing that it’s only going to get worse over time is beyond my ability to articulate.