Best Words

Monday morning, when we pulled up in front of the school, Will's principal was standing at the corner, letting the kids know that they were waiting for the first bell outside for the first time since before all the snow. For most kids, this was great news--a chance to run around like lunatics and burn off a little energy before they have to go in and sit down at their desks. For Will--not so much.  His anxiety immediately kicks in with a running diatribe in his head. "By the time you get there, everyone will have gone inside and you will have to knock on the door and get let in after it's closed and everyone will stare at you. Or you will come around the corner and everyone will be playing and you will be left out. Or you will interrupt someone's game and they will start off the day mad at you. Or you will step in a puddle or fall in the mud or do something equally as yucky and everyone will laugh at you and your day will be ruined!" Or something like that. I don't know *specifically* what his fears involve, but that's the general idea. Whatever he thinks exactly, it all means his anxiety is ramping before he even sets foot through the door.

In the fall and early winter, before the snow fell and covered the entire playground and we could anticipate the outdoor time, we had a couple different plans in place to deal with it, depending on the morning. But this week we were caught off guard. The change happened with no warning. We had been lulled into a new routine and I didn't even think about the fact that the return of above-freezing weather, combined with most of the snow being gone, would send the kids outside again.

In fact, Will was already out of the car and I was starting to pull away when I realized what was happening. I was in the drop off line, boxed in and unable to park and get out, helpless to help him. He was around the corner before I got out of the drop zone.

To make matters worse, Monday and Tuesday were MCAS ELA testing days. The bane of the SPED parents' existence. These days, Will is academically at a level where the test shouldn't be such a challenge, a change from when he first came into the school and was operating almost three grade levels lower across the academic board, but his anxiety and executive function challenges and inability to focus still make MCAS a nightmare for him. We do the best we can to play them down; I explain to him that the tests are more to show how the SCHOOL and the TEACHERS are doing at teaching him than to show what he, specifically, has learned. We have special MCAS breakfast on those mornings. I meet him at pickup with special snacks. We try to find as much of a silver lining as we can, but there are still Other Factors for him. And extra worries for me.

He made it through Monday and played down the drop off scene when I asked him about it later. We actually had a pretty good night on Monday, and Tuesday morning started off really well. Because I make him special breakfast, though, I'm always behind with MY schedule on those mornings and often end up driving him to school in my pajamas. Tuesday was a "behind" kind of morning for me.

While he was brushing his teeth, the last thing he does before we walk out the door, I mentioned that he would probably be outside again today and that we would go to the back of the school so I could drop him off at the field, as was our regular routine on outside days before the snow. He kind of grunted in response, finished with his toothbrush, and knelt down to say goodbye to the dog.

We got in the car and started driving to the school. I commented again about dropping him at the field and he froze.  "But Mummy, we aren't down on the field. We're up on the blacktop! You need to get out and walk me around!"

I was still in my pajamas.

"I can't walk you today, Will--I'm in my pajamas! I will have to drop you out front and you can walk around from there."

Arguments ensued. He demanded. I resisted. We pulled into the drop off lane. He refused to get out of the car. I started to lose my cool. The car behind us honked. It wasn't pretty.

Eventually, after an incredibly loud and angry, "FINE! BUT AFTER SCHOOL YOU OWE ME BIG TIME!" he got out of the car and walked around the building. I drove home feeling sick. All of the work I'd done to start his day off on a good note--out the window. Instead, I was annoyed, he was upset, and our exchange was anything but supportive.

 This morning, I got up a few minutes early, got dressed, and made sure I was walk-prepared. While we were eating non-special, regular morning breakfast, I asked him if he and I could talk for a minute about Best Words. He asked me what that meant. I reminded him of what had happened the day before and told him that I'd left the school feeling pretty yucky about our conversation. He admitted that he felt yucky, too, and we both agreed that we hate feeling that way. I told him that I'd thought about it a lot and that I believed what he was actually trying to say to me when he demanded that I walk him around the building was, "Mummy, I get anxious when I have to walk to the blacktop myself, and it helps a lot when you walk with me to keep me feeling calm." Why, yes, that *was* what he was trying to say.

I explained to him that if he had said that to me when I brought it up in the bathroom, I could have taken the time to change my clothes and been ready to walk with him, and that telling me what he was actually thinking like I'd just done, and which he admitted he was thinking in his head, would be using his Best Words. And when someone uses their Best Words, it's much easier to have a discussion and get what you want, instead of demanding and arguing. I also told him that I hadn't used my Best Words because I'd brought it up to him while he was distracted and hadn't made sure he had actually heard me.

We agreed to try to use our Best Words with each other going forward and then shook on it. I hope I can remember to do so myself, not just remind him to use his.

This morning, I parked by the field and we walked together up to the blacktop. He left for school happy. Score one for Mom!

Wouldn't life be so much less complex if we ALL used our Best Words with each other!

Another Day

I woke up this morning with a Sting song running through my head. I have no idea why this particular song has surfaced from the depths of my musical memory. I like it, but I haven't heard it in years. The brain, it is a mysterious thing.

Mister Will is home sick today. Again. Until February, we made it through each month of the school year missing only one day each month.  With Will, that's an accomplishment.  For the most part, the days he was home were days where he just could. not. deal. Then, in February, despite all the snow days and the vacation and all that, he was home for two days where school happened, but he was actually running-a-fever sick those days, so they fall into a different category. March hit and everything went to hell. He missed three just. can't. deal. days in March.  At least today is April 1, so today's day falls under a different month count. Jury is still out as to whether this is a true sick day or a just. can't. deal. day. We changed his meds on Friday and there are some side effects that are rearing their ugly heads, so I'm guessing the stomachache he was complaining of this morning is related to that. But it could also be stress.

Back in a different age, before the string of diagnoses that left Will with more letters after his name than a college professor, I was a smug parent. My kid was fabulous and we had a great relationship. Of course, in those days, I was with him 24-7 and he was not yet 3. Now, my heart breaks for his struggle every single day. And right now, well...right now is a bigger struggle than usual. And yet, somehow he continues on. There is an amazing resilience in my son, and I am so very proud of him.

New Growth

That's what spring is about, right? New growth? I am very much looking forward to some evidence of such, but we still seem to have two feet of snow in much of the yard. It's been that kind of a winter, which has bled over into that kind of spring. I am as tired of hearing people complain about the weather as I am of the weather, but it's all we can seem to talk about. Winter 2014/Spring 2015 will forever be known as the seasons that Massachusetts became one-track boring. Sigh...

Since I can't find any new growth outside, I shall have to concentrate on the inner type. Today is Day 2 back on my ADHD medication after an...oh...maybe...three-month hiatus. The break just served to reinforce to me (again--when will I learn?!) that I need to take it on a regular basis or risk becoming a giant lump. Ten pounds heavier and surrounded by piles of stuff. Not my favorite way to be.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Today is a new day.

We took down the ceiling in the kitchen this weekend. I am slowly but surely returning things to their homes and/or finding them new ones as needed. I am keeping my fingers crossed that we don't sport the exposed beams, pipes, and electrical wires look for too long. It will be beautiful when it's finished, and I will no longer remember the frustration of starting each day by cleaning up the assorted ceiling detritus that descended overnight.  I appear to have short-term construction irritation memory. This is a requirement if you're going to buy and old house and tackle most of the jobs yourselves. Thank goodness for Kirk and his bank of house knowledge. My husband can never leave. The house and I would just desintigrate!

Back to The Big Clean.  Yay for Vyvanse!!!

Wedding Sappiness!

I'm sitting at my desk, listening to the rain pour down outside, looking again at the photos I took this weekend.  Sunday, Kirk and I went to a wedding in New Jersey.  I used to babysit for the groom and have known him almost his whole life.  Watching him get married was a somewhat surreal experience.

We shared our table at the reception with my mom and her boyfriend, our friends Erica and Mitch, and their daughters, Whitney and Bailey.  I used to babysit for Whitney and Bailey, too. Erica, my mom, and Judy, the mother of the groom, are the original Wild Women in my life.  I was lucky enough to be initiated as a Wild Woman myself a few years back.  Now, Bailey and Whitney, along with their younger sister Annie, have joined the ranks as well.

This is my chosen family.  Will's, too.  They are Funny Auntie Judy and Uncle John and Auntie Erica and Uncle Mitch.  Let's not even get started on how he feels about Whitney. 

Judy and her husband John live in Rochester, NY these days.  Erica, Mitch, and the girls are in the DC area.  We don't see them nearly as much as I wish we did, and the time we spend together flies by like nothing at all.  I cherish those moments and hold them close to my heart.

Thanks, Judy, for including us in Charles and Sarah's beautiful day.  I am so lucky to have you--all of you--in my life.

I admit it.  Weddings make me sappy.  In the best sort of way.  They make me look at Kirk and want to marry him all over again, which is a good thing, 11 years down the line.  They remind me of the promises we made when we stood in Charles and Sarah's place, and make me happy to realize that we've done pretty well with each other.  They make me look forward to our future, and they help me celebrate our "middle."

I'm glad I married him.  I'm awfully glad he married me.  We fit, I think.  Even when one of us is literally broken, like I've been these past few months.  He's picked up what I've dropped with grace and composure and compassion, and I am so thankful for that.

Onward and upward.  May we all live happily ever after.

What I did today (7/18/2013)

So it doesn't appear that any of the things I planned to do today are going to come to fruition.  What am I doing instead?

• I washed the back door from top to bottom after I opened it to let Will in and realized it was ridiculously filthy!
• I vacuumed the loose paint chips (probably all lead paint) off the floor that came off while I was washing the door.  
• Then, while the vacuum was there, I vacuumed the ceiling, which is a peeling mess and desperately needs some attention. 
• I chose potential paint colors (pending agreement from Kirk) for the teensy hallway just inside the back door.  It's one of those spots in the house that looks terrible and would give us HUGE bang for our buck if we painted it, but we've gotten so used to it in the past ten years that we stopped seeing how awful it looked.  
• I cleaned out the linen/vacuum closet in the dining room, removing anything that isn't either dining room or vacuum related.
• I added more stuff to the ever-growing yard sale pile that is taking over the dining room table.  And the floor in front of the radiator.  I think we should set a yard sale date!
• I weeded (almost) all of the non-functional raised bed in the yard.  There are three strawberry plants that came back from last year (one good sized one and two that are rather anemic, none of which will have a strawberry survive the deer), one volunteer squash plant, one tiny volunteer tomato, and something that my friend Heather says isn't a weed but I can't remember what she said it is.  My mom's boyfriend thinks we could dry it and smoke it.  I'm not certain he's wrong, but I'm certainly not the expert on the subject. 

Why didn't the original to-do list happen?  Because Will is busy playing with the kid who recently moved into the neighborhood.  Play time always always ALWAYS trumps errands in this house!

Now, we're off to the grocery store with a stop at Friendly's for some dinner first.  Why Friendly's?  1.  Coupon.  2.  Ice Cream.  3.  Air Conditioning.  4.  No need to cook or clean up.  5.  Kirk's having dinner with his boss.

Stay cool, Pony Boy!

This has been a year of change.

Since I posted that brief and rather depressing entry in January, I've done a lot of soul searching and talking with Kirk and number crunching and more soul searching and agonizing and overthinking and decision making and more talking with Kirk and a little more soul searching, and in April I finally gave my notice at work.

We have a kid who faces big challenges, many of them different from those other kids his age face.  He needs me more.  Work needed someone more, too.  I couldn't be more of me in both places, so something had to give.  More and more, it was my sanity, and that was no good.  Work can replace someone.  My child can't.  So...I took a deep breath, wrote up my letter of resignation, and gave my notice with an end date two months out, allowing enough time to find and train my replacement.

About two weeks later, early in the morning of April 22, I had an accident on our trampoline that left my left leg/knee with a complete tear of the ACL and the MCL, damage to both the medial and lateral meniscus (menisci?), and fractures of the patellar pole and the tibial plateau.  I spent the next six weeks on the couch, getting up to pee and (eventually) go to physical therapy. 

Today, I am walking with a brace and preparing for ACL reconstruction surgery in October.  In the meantime, Will and I are hanging out for the summer while he gets to just be a kid, not get shuffled off to camps and programs he dreads so that I can go to work to earn enough money to pay for the camps and programs he dreads.

Given the accident, things have not gone quite the way I expected.  I never went back to work, save the one day I went in to clean out my desk and eat cake.  My project list, the one I made during all that soul searching and discussing with Kirk, has been pushed forward, given my limited mobility and summer sidekick.  It also grew, given the six weeks I had to watch HGTV and DIY until I wanted to knock down walls and create an open floorplan (not gonna happen in this house; hello, structural supports!).  But regardless of that, and of the fact that there is a gigantic learning curve involved in shifting to being home full-time after, well, truthfully, never doing it before.  I don't count when Will was a newborn and my life was dedicated to either feeding the baby or waiting to feed the baby 100% of the time, and then, once he was 12 weeks old, I went back to work for at least a few hours each week. 

I told Kirk I'd given myself a new job title:  I am our household's Domestic Engineer.  The pay isn't so great, but the benefits are out of this world.  I look forward to enjoying the fruits of my labor.  You know, once I can walk without feeling like Marty Feldman in Young Frankenstein. "What hump?..."

Here's to living, not just existing!

Right now, we are not living.

We are just going through the motions.

Boy, that sucks.