Throw me a bone, Red!

I always knew my oldest kid was going to be the death of me. I may not be dead - yet - but there are days when I think I'm very very close.

I was a single mom when I had Red. 22, in college, working full time. Completely on my own. It was scary, but I was able to find success in the role fairly quickly. But, from the very beginning, I knew he was going to be head-strong and a real challenge. 11.5 years (as of today) into his life, and he hasn't once proven anything different.

Red was very alert very quickly as a newborn. He always seemed to be trying to figure out exactly what was going on, and trying to interact with me. He tolerated affection, but only from me and my parents, he didn't want to snuggle with anyone else. He didn't mind if others held him or stayed with him, just don't try and get too close. He loved rolling over, crawling, babbling. He took awhile to walk - 17 months - but by 18 months, he was speaking in full sentences and having short conversations. By 2, we noticed some strange nuances about him, but we were never sure what to do with him. He was remembering whole chunks of music, but couldn't drink out of a straw. Red would play with Lego's for hours at a time, but couldn't throw a ball straight in front of him. It was at his 2-year appointment that his pediatrician warned me that I might have to be on the lookout for autism. I don't want to say that I didn't believe him, or that I didn't trust him. I just didn't know enough to be worried. Or maybe it was because he was doubting it, I didn't think it was a *real* warning, just the normal precautions that pediatricians give new moms.

Over the years, we would see more of his unique personality take shape and hold strong. His first true obsession was cars. In the 10 minutes it would take to drive to the grocery store, I would be nutsoid because he had named every single car between our driveway and the entrance to the store. He would compare them, discuss them, tell me what he does or does not like about each of them. He's now moved on to Star Wars, Star Trek, dinosaurs, and about a half dozen other things. His new pediatrician looked at me blankly and said, "So Red's a little savant, it will be ok." But she couldn't easily explain away him still wetting the bed - all the time - at the age of 5.

We tried Red in sports - soccer and flag football. He needs a shirt, "Does not play well with others." He just doesn't seem to grasp team sports. He's be a great coach, standing on the sidelines and barking orders, just don't ask him to chase the ball or line up or anything else because it is not going to happen. My dreams of having a star quarterback were gone, but have no fear, engineering or medicine is just as profitable and not nearly as deadly. He started having other social difficulties as well. He could interact with children one-on-one, or maybe even in small groups of 3 or 4, but beyond that and we were asking for trouble. He shuts down, and feels ganged up on. The end of his first grade year in school was a living hell for him, and finally ended up in him getting suspended. A bully had chased him under his desk, taunting him and yelling at him, and out of desperation, he screamed "I'm going to kill you!!" at the child. Using the word "kill" automatically gets you suspended. We decided to homeschool after that, keeping his social interactions to Cub Scouts and church functions - both things we could help him acclimate himself in without him getting too overwhelmed.

Red and I have had to grow together a lot. It has taken me a long time to really get used to motherhood and it took me having three other children to understand just how unique he is, and appreciate his mind-blowing qualities, as much as the drawbacks want to make me uncork a huge bottle of wine. I've learned that I am just not trained to equip him with all of the specific tools he is going to need to be successful in life. And now that I've said that, I feel the need to define a few terms:

- Yes, I am looking for a label. I think he needs a label so that we know exactly what constraints we're working with. I know lots of parents that don't need labels, and they are awesome, it works for them. But I need labels. I like labels. They're pretty and make everything all organized and happy. And yes, I have my own label for liking labels, its called borderline obsessive personality. So what? ;)

- I am only equipped to love this child. My heart is my only weapon. But my love for him is not going to be able to help him forever. Eventually, he's going to have to learn how to communicate with other people besides Mom. I can't give him what he needs for that, by definition, we'd be working against ourselves.

- I do not measure success by the number of degrees hanging on a wall, or the amount of dollars in a bank account. Success for Red will be happiness, love, a family with LOTS of kids (he loves loves loves kids), and being able to balance all of those things without daily meltdowns. That being said, I am not going to be upset if Red buys me a cute little beach house for me to retire to and have lots of front porch for the grandkids to clamber all over.

Red turns exactly 11 and a half today. He wanted to make sure I knew that. The last few months have been a roller coaster ride of trying to find him the exact help he needs. I didn't realize how difficult it was to get help for Autism Spectrum Disorder children. Naysayers gripe about how everyone has autism these days and its so easy to diagnose. Pffft. I'd love for any one of them to deal with one - just ONE - phone call that I have to endure just to get an appointment, or find the right doctor. It feels like I've been fighting forever, but I've really only just started. We met with a psychiatrist a couple of weeks ago, but. But but but. She confirmed that Red is certainly on the autism spectrum, but didn't want to begin treating him until after he had a few sessions with one of the counselors that works for her. The counselors don't accept our insurance. So, we start over with a new clinic next week.

In the meantime, the one concern we had been trying to battle was the bed wetting. He's never *not* wet the bed. For the most part, it doesn't really bother him. If he wants to go on a sleepover, he will take a pill (something like an anti-diuretic) that will suppress urine during the night. It is more of a frustration for me than it is for him. The laundry ... the smell - no matter how much I clean, and spray, and deodorize. We did a sleep study, thinking his breathing was affected, but he has perfect air flow. However, he does have a lot of leg movement during the night, and his doctor thinks its due to an iron deficiency, so bring on the iron tablets! We went to a nephrologist today, and it was a positive meeting. I told him I wasn't expecting him to work miracles, as we had long believed Red's system was working fine. He ordered a few tests, but also shared that his own son was a bed-wetter into his teens. Wait and see.

I've been overwhelmed with Red recently. He doesn't always relate well, and the constant explaining of emotions and sarcasm are really starting to wear thin on my patience. He really is a good kid ... he just loses sight of where the lines of social acceptance begin and end. And there are days when I just want to hide in the corner instead of reminding him yet again to chew with his mouth closed, or use manners, or don't hit your baby sister in the head because it hurts her feelings and teaches your baby brother that its ok to hit.

But then we have a day like today. It was just the two of us for several hours, and I was reminded just how funny he is when he's just having a normal conversation. A glimmer or what "normal" is.

Meh, who needs normal. Normal isn't always going to be among the fluffy bunnies.

The first night...

I'm no stranger to my husband working third shift. When he lost his job a couple of years ago, he had been on third for about three years. I'm used to it. I kind of like having my own time at night. I can read without interruption. I can use the entire bed to fold laundry. Most importantly, I can watch stupid tv without a fight for the remote. Yes, people, I watched "The Bachlorette" tonight. I'll admit it.

That being said, it has been a long time. A very long time. During the last two years, I've grown accustomed to having him back with me every evening. And even though we've had a lot of problems recently, things always settled down for us at night and we were able to sleep peacefully, side-by-side.

I know it seems a little melodramatic. After all, he's doing what he can to support our family. And I'll see him first thing in the morning. Our family still has quiet time in the middle of the day (mostly so Mommy can still take a nap - lol), so I'll be able to hang out with him then. And, of course, there's still the two nights a week that he's off.

But ... I still miss him. It's going to be strange learning how to sleep without him again.

I'll probably sleep dead center with my legs sprawled out all over the place. ;)

Sunday's Reflections

Every once in a great while, I find myself standing on the edge of of a new stage of my life - today is one of those days.

As I'm writing this, its 11:00 on Sunday morning. Normally, I'm at church, settled into my favorite seat - second row, middle, just to the left of the slide projector. My husband is next to me, working the computer attached to the slide projector. I'm shushing the Fluffyhead Diva (who hates to sit still and quiet during prayer) and giving the evil eye to Red (who always has to go the bathroom whenever prayer begins). I'm surrounded by my church family, and it feels comfortable and wonderful.

Not this morning.

This morning, I'm sitting in bed watching movies with the kids while Hubby completes his third day of training at work. He will be starting his normal work schedule later tonight, and then our new family schedule will begin. I can't wait!

For the last two years, I have watched my husband sink deeper and deeper into a bog of heartache and self-abhorrence. His self-esteem crumbled into nothingness. He lost his job doing something he adored. It caused him to lose himself. He was happy and excited, and morphed into distant and uninvolved. It broke my heart. I was frustrated watching him. Then I got angry. I even threatened divorce. I don't live by the long-standing assumption that the man has to work and the woman has to stay home and manage the family and home, but I do believe that, as husband, it is his job to ensure and manage our familial success - in whatever form that might look like. I worked for a year of his unemployment, and while I really do love working, we were miserable because he hated staying at home and managing the insanity here, and I hated coming home after a full day of work and still have a home to manage. It was like being a single mom with a really grumpy nanny.

When I lost my job a couple of months ago, I finally put my foot down. Our family wasn't working anymore. He had to get a job and I needed to get the kids back on track with their homeschooling and medical appointments (and there have been a gazillion - but that is definitely a post for a later date). The flow had disappeared from our home. Everything was becoming a struggle, and we were starting to butt heads all day long. I tried to compel him to look for work. Then I begged him to look for a job. Anything - even flipping burgers at a fast food joint, I didn't care! Begging became nagging, which quickly became huge scream fights. He dug his heels in and got to the point where he flat out would not look for a job. One evening, on a lark, he decided to apply at one of the theme parks. The next day, he got an email to schedule an interview. Two days later, he had a job and a training schedule.

And a bounce in his step. And a twinkle in his eye. And the smile that plays so gently on his lips that I fell in love with. Sir Smiley turned 2 last week, and we met some friends for lunch to celebrate him. A very dear friend of mine leaned over to me and said - ever so succinctly, "He's back!" Yes, indeed he is!

So, this morning, he's finishing up his last day of training, then will come home to grab a few hours sleep, then will go back to work tonight at 11pm. He will be working overnight shifts, which will be very interesting around here. When he lost his job two years ago, he was working overnights, but we had a much bigger place then. It was easier for him to sleep. Now, we live in a very small space. Trying to keep the kids halfway quiet is certainly going to be an interesting challenge. Not to mention that we'll have the additional challenge of homeschooling Fluffyhead Diva along with Red. Could be a lot of fun. Or, it could lead me to spend a lot more time on here screaming with insanity and delirium because locking myself in the bathroom or rocking in a corner just isn't an option.

A new stage of our life ... and I'm ecstatic and scared and thrilled and worried. And curious. Very curious to see what is going to happen next.

Satisfaction - and a lack thereof...

I've once again fallen behind on my writing and lost sight of my purpose with this blog. I wish I could tell you that I have this amazing reason, but, I really don't. The fact is that I've been so busy living my life, I haven't been able to write about my life. Additionally, I've been stressed. I started to write to relieve my stress, but looking at the words on the page didn't relieve anything at first, it only made it worse.

But now - of course - I'm dealing with the frustration of not being able to deal with any of the balls I'm juggling. And there are a zillion of them. I can't keep shoving down what I'm feeling. One of these days I'm going to snap and I'll end up wearing a bathrobe and curlers in my hair, walking around Target and muttering things like "I don't need detergent, I wash my clothes with Prell!" or something. Scared of that.

And in the meantime, I'm left with this emptiness. The fact that not only am I not venting, and I'm not resolving, I'm also not learning anything. And that's part of what blogging is about, isn't it? Seeing a progression of our own hearts and minds - and actions? I'm missing the satisfaction of being able to watch myself grow. I need that.

So ... here's to another attempt at writing my way through my life.