Is This For Real?

I try to stay positive, you all know I do, but mornings like this one really leave me struggling to see the good in our situation. Last night was another rough one, with Cam's getting up twice, each time with a soaking wet pull up. She was screaming so loudly, even after I had taken her out of her room and changed her pullup. Not wanting to wake the rest of the house any more than we already had, I took her into the kitchen hoping the sight of the dog might quiet her. She was distracted by Riley only for a moment and then continued with ther ear piercing wails. Mason yelled from her bedroom," Be quiet Camryn!!!! I wish you could just move out!!!! I don't deserve this!!!!" 
I felt horrible because she is so right! No child deserves to grow up in this chaos. But then again, no child deserves to grow up in an abusive home, a shelter, a war torn country, a hospital ward, etc. This is what we have been given and compared to some other situations, it's a piece of cake, a really stale, dry piece of cake.  But when you're nine and it's two in the morning and your sister is screaming through the house, the self control to stay calm and tell yourself she is not doing it to be hateful just isn't there. I understand her frustration but I also have to let her know there is a different way to handle it. I had about a two second talk with her and she was back to sleep.
Cams finally went back down for good the second time and slept till six forty-five.
All was okay for about the first ten minutes, but then she started to get whiny and agitated. She was all dressed for school, looking so cute in her pleated skirt and zebra knee highs. But she wasn't acting cute so I put her in her room to look at books while I got the other two girls ready and not two minutes passed when I heard the dreaded phrase "I need the wipes honey". Oh sh**,literally!! Again she shouted out "I need wipes honey!" Everyone in this house knows that if Cams says she needs wipes it means she crapped in her pants.
She does this now alot and I don't know why! She knows how to tell me she needs to go poop, but does she tell me? Not when she's in her room. I guess she figures if I have the nerve to put her in her room she'll show me and sh** her pants. Uuuuggghhhh!!! Why?????????????????
I take her out of her room and start the stripping down process. First I take a peek in her panties to see what consistency we are dealing with. Mush, complete and total mushy, squishy poo just sitting there ready to ooze out the sides any second. And now it's my job to figure out how I am going to get these packed panties off Cams without creating a total mess. By the way, at this time there is about five minutes left before they need to leave for school. Brad is helping the other two while I take Camryn into the hallway and map out a plan in my head. First, shoes and knee highs off. Then skirt. Taking her shirt off will make her think she is getting in the bath and we have no time for that. I try to fold it up around her midsection in the hopes it will remain completely white. I have her down to her panties and they are sagging big time. She is very agitated and keeps trying to rip them off, which is exactly what I am trying despertately to prevent her from doing as taking them off in a rush would surely fling wet poo all over the house. Oh the glamor of my life!
She keeps pushing my hands away from her as I am trying to slip the panties off as carefully as possible. Somehow I managed to get them down with only minor smearage on her legs. I know, it's so gross! Brad and the kids are holding their breath trying not to inhale the stench and I am trying to kep her from stepping in the mess which is now on the floor on a plastic bag. She is wriggling and fussing the whole time I am trying to wipe her. I get her clean and get her dressed, AGAIN. Brad is ready to take them to school but Cams hair looks like rats have taken up residency in it so I decide to twist it into loose braids. Well, one of Cams sensory issues is that she does NOT like to have her hair brushed at all! It's an issue every morning, some worse than others and today was going to be one of the worse ones. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can but she is screaming and thrashing her head around. I am trying to remain calm and sing her a song about Uma going to the barbershop (it's a  character from Oobi, her favorite show). Now mind you, while all this was happening this morning, my right wrist is in a brace. Turns out it wasn't fractured, but tendonitis, which let me just say is equally painful. I removed the brace for the blowout, for obvious reasons, but put it back on before I did her hair. Btu does Cams know why I have that thing on my wrist or does she care? Nope! She is whacking my hand and wrist tryng to get me to stop and finally I just say "I give up!" Brad takes Camryn and scolds her for hurting me. I manage to get her hair into something that resembles braids and send her out the door. She is still whining and screaming as she gets in Brads truck, but at least the wails will get fainter and fainter as he drives away. I could not wait for them to leave! Horrible I know, but true! Nat is the only one left in the house and I give her a big hug and kiss and let her know I love her. She says she loves me too. That girl is such a blessing to this family. She is a sister for Mason the way a sister should be and she is a little girl for us the way a little girl is imagined. I love Camryn with all my heart, issues and all, but to look at my youngest daughter and see her playing with dolls and drawing rainbows and flowers brings my heart so much joy. Joy that is often shadowed and marred by the ugliness of Autism.
So all my girls are at school now and I can finally breathe. The house is completely silent except for the tapping of my computer keys. In three hours I will pick up Nat and then an hour after that Mace and Cam. Yesterday Camryn bit my arm and screamed all the way to the car so I'm guessing today won't be much different. I'll try to listen to Mason's day as we drive home while Camryn pinches my arm and screams in the front seat. This is my life and even though I don't understand why, I know there is a reason and I have to keep going.I have to believe that someday I will look around and say "Aha, so that's why!" and then all of the chaos and heartbreak and struggles will make sense. Until then I will continue to clean up blowouts, dodge flying hands and plug my ears up with cotton. It's not pretty but somebody's gotta do and for whatever the reason may be, that somebody is me.