Where's that Damn Mask?

So this has been a rough week for me. More rough than normal. Jake has had migraines every day and he's out of school, and therefore not following his usual routine, so he's basically been out of sorts, and throwing himself around and crying a lot and whining and whining. And Lucy is struggling with sleep issues having a difficult time letting her body rest when her mind is still active (OMG she is so my daughter!) And of course Jake's aide has been amazingly late or absent.. even though I have begun anticipating her tardiness, the not showing up on Monday followed by the 1.75 hours late on Tuesday was just more than I could have possibly accounted for. And we are leaving for a camping trip with the in-laws and I am doing most of the meal planning, purchasing and cooking. I still need to make two quiche and a birthday cake today.

I had friends who needed help this week with their kids and I couldn't do it. I know I am not responsible for everyone else all the time, but most of the time I try so very hard to help other people out because I really, really know that feeling of needing help. And this week I couldn't offer it to anyone else, because I am barely okay myself.

On Tuesday and Wednesday nights, after my children were tucked into bed I proceeded to escape my house and my life. Tuesday drinking and hot tubbing and singing along with music so loudly that the cops paid us a visit, and last night out in San Francisco with friends from Business School most of whom don't have kids, sipping expensive wine in a swanky place co-owned by a guy from Barcelona. I drank too much both nights. I stayed out too late both nights.

This is a perfect example of me taking care of myself the wrong way.

I was so mentally exhausted when I started this week that I had no where else to go but down I think. I didn't help my friends, I didn't accomplish anything around the house or do anything very fun with the kids because I couldn't count on the babysitter. I just haven't felt right all week long.

and then I remember that this is how I used to feel all the time. Jake, his episodes before the migraine meds and the Zoloft.. 52 days without really sleeping. This is how I felt for years. I looked gray. My joints ached. I felt old.

So while I am still tired and need to take care of myself by eating a little better and getting some good sleep and drinking even just a glass of water during the day, I know that this will all pass. I will be able to help someone else after I get my own mask on.

No More Patience

I'm not sure what has put me over the edge but I have no more patience right now. Could it be the incessant whining of my two year old? My same daughter who will not fall asleep without a tremendous struggle that lasts hours and hours. Perhaps it was a weekend with my house filled with extended family, whom I love very dearly, but when you plan for Friday night and get the whole weekend...

and the babysitter didn't show up again yesterday...miscommunication... I know I know. I am going to get new help when school starts..just two more weeks.

and Jake flipped out (episode time) last night during bath time and came up from the ground full speed and knocked me in the chin knocking my jaw into my friggin' brain. I am stiff and sore this morning from that one. Luckily I didn't get my tongue cut off.

This morning little Miss Lucy happily went to her new daycare and Jake proceeded to whine for several hours. His migraine medicine doesn't seem to be working, although he is a lot calmer now that lunch is over. Just in time for that PhD student to come over and do a verbal test on him. Fantastic!

I am going to drink a diet Rockstar and take a Wellbutrin and hope that I become civilized enough to deal with adults.

Right now it's a good thing that Jake likes to hang out by himself because I am not pleasant company.. but I am feeling just a tad bit better writing it all down.

Evan Kamida (July 30, 2000 – July 24, 2008)

My heart goes out to Vicki Forman and her family. She is a remarkable woman, and her loss is unimaginable.

If you feel moved to do so, in lieu of flowers, please send contributions to:
The Pediatric Epilepsy Fund at UCLA
Division of Pediatric Neurology
Mattel Children’s Hospital at UCLA
David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA
22-474 MDCC
10833 Le Conte Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90095-1752

or online http://www.vickiforman.com/?p=1011

As the women in my family have often said

"There but for the Grace of God, go I."

Wishing you fortitude Vicki.

Victories

I'll take 'em however I can get 'em

Just went to the grocery store with both of my children. We are all still alive, and it was actually a "real" shopping trip...or at least we filled the cart. I was just telling Squid that while I'm quite certain I paid more than I normally would for some items, I am willing to pay more if it means that I got to take my special needs kid out on an errand that will be a part of his life forever and have it go better than okay. He was happy and jumpy and squealy and smiling. Lucy was begging for ham and bagels. I was able to keep hold of Jake's hand AND get Lucy her raisin bagel. I am calling that success.

I only got one "oh poor you" look, and it was from another mom with a kid in her cart that was "too old" to be there, playing with a small box. Perhaps her look was actually "oh poor you, I have one of those too."

We got help to the car from a young kid who thought Lucy was the most precious kid who ever landed on the planet. And she is precious, but mostly because she finally fell asleep in the car on the way home allowing me to unload the groceries and make dinner for both kids sans drama and "I NEEEEEEEED that Mommy."

Now I just need to get through dinner and bath time.

I can do it.

I can do anything if I can take those two kids to the grocery store.

So Much to Do

and so few hours while Jake is at summer school. Friday is the last day of summer school, so I feel like I have about 15 more hours to get everything I need to get done for the next two weeks. Jake starts school again in mid-August, so it's not like I need to fill in a whole lot of time, but it's just enough to remind me that outings with both of my children are a rather daunting task.

My stomach just quivered at the thought of trying to take Lucy to swim lessons during those two weeks. Jake hate HATES going there. The giant white dome enclosing a steamy pool and screamy children? What's not to like? Last time I seriously left him in the car playing while I stood at the gate of the swim school, one foot straddling the little line in the cement, demarcating the difference between abandoning my 2 year old with her swim instructor, and leaving an unattended child in a vehicle. At least I had the good parking space. I will not even think about getting Jake's aide here by 8:45am so she can watch him while she swims. I may need to put her lessons on hold for two weeks and risk losing the time slot.

These are the things that people can't even imagine about our lives. The lessons are 30 minutes long. Jake yelled and threw himself down in such a large fashion that he terrified several children parents last time. He looked just enough like he was just throwing a temper tantrum (which indeed he was) that I just looked like a bad mom. That's my favorite. 9am and I suck at being a mom. It is such an awesome way to start the day.

This evening Descartes and I have been trying to figure out additional strategies to get Lucy to sleep. It is 10:44 and she is still awake in her room. This is after a full day at childcare with all 3 and 4 year olds. I thought this more rigorous childcare would get her more tired, but it seems that she is saying more and more often "Mommy. I'm not tired." This was the age that my parents bought me a 3 foot long, 1 foot deep drawer filled with Superscope Storyteller books and a cassette player. I have been buying these vintage tapes and books in anticipation of this day, hoping that the stories and the independence of using the tape machine would provide my busy little girl the same thrill it gave me, but I'm not sure. The stories are closer to Grimm Fairy tales than soft and lovey Dora and Barney stories.

My favorites were Little Mermaid and The Selfish Giant. In the first story there is no Ariel singing with the fish, instead there is a beautiful woman who loves the Prince so much that she kisses his new bride gently on the forehead and throws herself into the sea, tossing away the witch's knife she was given to kill the bride. Instead of a life of further sadness turned to seafoam, she becomes a Daughter of the Air.

"We spread the gentle winds of hope. You, poor Little Mermaid have searched for goodness with all your heart. That is why you have become a daughter of the air."

and apparently, the line that has stuck with me:

"For the Little Mermaid had learned that in the giving of one's self, the greatest reward comes in seeing the happiness of others."

Apparently I remember a lot from my second year of life. I guess I'd better make these last days of summer count. So tomorrow there will be tape recorder buying and Jake to the aquarium planning.

Real Exhaustion

I am so tired. Yes my children woke up a hundred bazillion times last night, and I spent every evening for the past week doing something, but really, right now I am exhausted because I am trying to finish A Real Boy by Christina Adams.

It is unbearable.

I knew it would be, but her writing exhausts me. It does not, in any way make me feel hopeful. Her half chapter describing "Autism Mommies" is nearly perverse. It pretty much indicates that your child doesn't have a chance at being "recovered" from autism unless you have a lot of money and the mind of a "professional". Whatever Ms. Adams. I don't buy into the recovery stuff. I don't buy into your evaluation criterion.

I will finish the book before I write any more.

Right now I would rather do the dishes.. how's that for disliking the book?

BlogHer broke Twitter Again

or else the Fail Whale was just feeling lonely.

My Road to BlogHer 08 Friday Night

Friday my day went something like this:

• Get up at 6:00 for shower
• Lament burned out plug in the bathroom.
  
• Get Jake dressed, fed and on bus in a 12 minute time span.
  
• Wonder if I have permanent brain damage from electric shock yesterday from said plug.
• Help sister pack everything and two boys into her car and watch her drive away.
• Entertain Lucy.
• Gather all of the left over parts from bathroom remodel for returns to Home Depot
• Glance at scary unblown hair and wonder how long it is going to take for us to either finish remodel in bathroom #2 or fix plug in bathroom #1.
• Realize that my makeup bag is in my sister's car.
• Call sister.
• Make plans to meet in a parking lot three cities away.
• Put screaming needs-a-nap Lucy in car.
• Drive to other city.
  
• Go through drive through for iced tea and lunch for sleeping Lucy just in case she wakes up hungry.
• Wait in parking lot with starving Lucy. Give myself an internal "High 2" for remembering to have lunch ready (I don't get the full 5 becuase the "lunch" consists of a fried burger, french fries and apple juice).
• Meet my sister, get makeup bag.
• Go to Home Depot parking lot, and realize that I do not have the correct receipt.
• Head home.
• I can't remember all of this part because it is a blur but things like poopy diapers, crying, snacking and dirty dishes happened.
• Empty trash can from the deck.
• Carry trash bag across kitchen and head towards back door.
• Get all the way past the gate and to the outside trash area.
• Realize that trash bag has a hole and is leaking murky liquid.
• Figure out that murky liquid also has maggots in it.
• Retrace steps and find out that there is a maggot trail a la Hansel and Gretel all the way back to the kitchen door.
  
• Remember that maggots are one of the few things I can barely tolerate on the planet. Another one is arrogant people who are boring. Ponder if those two things are the same thing.
• Don gloves, gather papertowels and 409 spray and pray that my two children don't have maggots between their toes.
• Clean it all up. Ugh.
• Sit down at computer to feel better.
• Get IM from Descartes..."Do you want me and the kids to drive you to SF so you can meet up with BlogHer peeps for after party?"
• Nearly cry at my good fortune.
• Search out public transit options.
  
• Scramble to get get changed, fix hair (lament loss of bathroom plug again!) and find two shoes which match.
• Pile children in car and drive to Descartes' office.
• Race to BART train. Make train by two minutes.
• Arrive in San Francisco after cozy BART nap wearing a clean shirt, lipstick and pants.
  
• Find dear friend Squid nearly immediately.
• Drink and laugh and chat and finally get to meet with Blog heroine Kristina Chew.
  
• Dine with Squid and LeftCoastMom and I, Asshole. Laugh a lot.
  
• Get a ride home from the exhausted and responsible driver Squid.
• Fall into bed. Happy. Tired. Happy.
  

Waiting

I seriously waited nearly all day for a PhD student to come to our home to humiliate us
give Jake a language test. We are part of her sleep study, which so far has consisted of Jake fighting with us about putting on something called an actigraph (a watch that measures motion) and me filling out a lot of psychological profile information.

Clearly the woman has no children, and no friends who have kids with autism...or toddlers.

Whatever. Descartes wants me to pull out of the study because she has only been condescending, and then basically rude. I am going to try to stick it out just in case we help even one other family with her research.

By the way, if this is what it takes to get a PhD these days? I should totally do it.

haha

I just got a call from a market research firm, and was asked if I was the oldest person at the house. I was about to say my husband is older, but before I could correct the person, I was told that they would try back later when my parents were home.

I would so love to be the not responsible one at this household right now.