shoelaces & letting things slide...

I’m a bad mother.  I’m not sure when it started, maybe it was before he was even born.

He has troubles tying his shoes, so each day he slips them on.  We are in such a morning rush to get on the road for a nasty commute that I don’t even pay attention or notice anymore.  They are on his feet, there was not a meltdown of epic proportions and we are out the door.   And…. Yet I know in my heart that it is not the “right thing”, it’s not teaching him.  I don’t even know if it is just because I don’t want the fight at 6am to get out the door, or if I’ve just become too lazy to even care.  I’m tired, he’s tired, it’s done.   He needs to learn independence, self-reliance, handling the world around him, and yet, I’m letting him become reliant on me to get things done, or not even try to tackle any of it.

I guess it stems, to be perfectly honest, from me having depression and being bi-polar.  Some days I can barely even get myself out of bed to get ready, but I’m in charge of getting another human being ready for the day.  Then, to add on autism where he really only wants to do “preferred activities”, I have no patience other than to trudge along and get things done no matter what, no matter who has to do them. The process doesn’t matter, just the end result……. 

But , the process does matter….. he needs to learn things,  I’m not going to be here for him forever.

I’m at a loss, I know what I should do, but don’t have the energy to get it done.  I also know that I need to just stop doing things for him, he is a resourceful capable 9 year old that should be able to do some of these things.  I was forced at the very young age of 4 to survive and carry the load of many household things because my mother was ill.  I cooked, cleaned, did the laundry……. I never wanted that for my child, but in trying to “change the future” and let him be a kid, I’m not teaching him the stuff that needs to be taught…..

I’m a failure…….. and I know it…….. and I don’t have the energy to fix it…..

Mohawk, fauxhawk…. or no-hawk???

As any autism parent knows – haircuts can be a *nightmare*, *hellish*, *horrific*, *scream inducing, panic attacking* (and that’s just me – not the kid!) …… whichever word works for you .

Well, except my husband – but that part of the story will come later…

So, for the past 7 years, I have armed myself like a solider going into battle - with a portable DVD player with his favorite movie, my iphone so that he can play games, and an extra dose of patience for momma.  I have prepared him multiple times with what is going to happen, I have let him pick out how he wants his hair from pictures on the ipad and reminded him of the beloved balloon he will get at the end as a reward for not going ape-shit….. (ok, that’s not the term I use with him – but go with it – you know the drill!)

As the years have passed, he has gotten better with the routine of it and looks forward to playing with their nasty germ-ridden duplos.  He likes the girls and finally feels comfortable at our local haircut place. Woo – hoo!!!  He still isn’t all that happy with putting on the cape or having them wet down his hair, but playing Angry Birds has kept his meltdowns in check.

Now – insert DAD!  You know, the guy that knows all about our struggles and processes to get said haircut – but has yet to experience it firsthand. Just write "newbie" on his forehead.

He decides that he needs to get his own haircut, so, low & behold, he is going to bring along the boy.  Since I’m at the grocery store (don’t be jealous that I was solo on my trip), he thinks that Little Man needs his haircut too, since it is past his eyes.  He asks the boy how he wants his hair cut. A boy in class has a “fauxhawk”, but since neither of them knows what that means, Little Man tells my husband “Mohawk”!  Fine with dad! Without further ado, my husband drives to a NEW hair salon in town. In the parking lot kiddo freaks out and tells him that this is NOT the place! On the fly my husband tells him “but this is the only place that cuts mohawks!”  They proceed to give him a super long, super crooked no spike Mohawk.  And you know what happened while they were doing this………..absolutely fucking NOTHING!  That’s right folks…….. no iphone, no movie, no meltdowns or tears!!!  FUCKING BITCH! 

Hubs now thinks that I have made this shit up all these crappy-ass years.  Beginner’s luck asshole!

In the days that followed he would not spike his hair at all.  I think he did it twice. My mother called it a no-hawk.  Three weeks later he begged me to get rid of it because he didn’t like it.  I am happy to report that his next haircut did go well (thank you iphone). He has come a long way.  I’m making hubs take him next time and pray that a meltdown ensues…..just kidding (really, but not really).

I'm not ready - (is this what they call "functioning"?!?!?))

I’m not ready.  After reading THIS…….I’m definitely not ready. 

I’ve thought of the future.  I really have.  It’s fuzzy and vague, but it’s a general idea of “it will be ok” kind of thing.  I see his father.  He is an Aspie.  He can semi function in society at large.  But when I think about it more………I’m the one that is functioning, keeping us all together – afloat. 

The Hubs - It takes him forever, but he gets himself up, gets ready for work and gets himself out of the house…….mostly.  On the days he doesn’t…..well, he calls in sick or a vacation day. He has ample time, so he uses it often. If I were his boss, I would have already fired him. This has been happening for years, it’s not new, it was his routine for school too.

He does not cook dinner – it’s not in his “routine”. If I am not home for some reason with Little Man, he will wait hours for me to bring home food and starve, then to cook something for himself and go out and pick something up in a drive-thru. The second I come home, he is hungry, even though he might have been home for hours.  There is a big white box in the kitchen…..a full pantry…..he could start dinner. 

He could help with homework.  He is SUPER smart!  He is actually one of the smartest people I know.  I think he could do second grade math.  But as I am struggling to make dinner (“yummy, home-made dinner from scratch” since nothing else is good enough for him) he is sitting watching tv.   

THIS AND SO MUCH MORE………..  I’m thinking – this is NOT functioning……how is he going to teach my son how to function……I’m NOT READY – maybe ready to cry – but not ready for the future!

facing the music

First there was this:

AWESOME PROGRESS!!! Little Man at his substitute daycare ASKED TWICE yesterday if he could find a quiet spot so that he could just take a break from the noise and movement......ASKED, no getting upset, no hitting, no meltdowns!!! WOOO HOOO - way to go Bubba! This is progress people! I might not have the same issues as you have with your kids - and sometimes it's hard to hear all the things that your kids can do without a second thought, but damn it, we are celebrating every single milestone, whenever we get to it, small steps at our own time! Autism Be Damned

And then there was this……..
                Eating my words - I guess this morning was hard, but if he did it, he can do it again.
                Two steps forward & one step back is still moving.

Which turned to tears……….mine

This shit is hard.

It seems like each day I cringe when I pull into the parking lot – hopeful, but with trepidation.  I want to run in and out – not to be stopped by a teacher, so as not to be told of the bad news.  To not be waved into the office once again to be told “your son did this again……”, “he can’t keep his hands to himself”, “he’s impulsive” or whatever the reason du jour is.  Some days I just can’t take it.  I want to run and hide.  To let someone else pick him up.   I miss him so much during the day, but feel guilty when it’s time to pick him up that I don’t want to hear it “once again”……………….  Some teachers are nice about it.  They understand he acts out usually due to some other behavior or a reaction of something else.  They get it.  Other’s don’t care to get it and don’t see him being bullied or someone being mean to him, so he reacts back.  He is impulsive and yes, he needs to be better at handling his emotions, but there is a whole picture to it – open your eyes people!

So, once again, I’m counting down the hours until pick up, knowing that I’m scared to go in and face the music.

 

Where did the time go??

So....I'm not sure what happened in between "it's a boy" to "this is your pre-school". It seems to me that I somewhat remember a hazy blur of: nasty diapers & spit up, holding my fingers so that he could take a few steps, teaching him the word "momma", putting on his pj's backwards so he wouldn't end up naked during the night, taking every toy out of his crib while he slept so that he wouldn't be sleeping on a mountain........

It's like I hit the fast forward button by mistake. Here I am now, sitting thinking that he will be starting pre-school in the fall. We visited it the other day. Yes, he is in daycare everyday now, but somehow that seems different. He's at someone's home. He is just "going over there to play".

Now is the beginning of losing my baby. Just like it was yesterday, he was dependent on me for everything; bottles, diaper changes, rocking to sleep. This morning he took out the milk for his cup, dressed himself and climbed into his carseat. It's like the only reason that I was needed was to drive him, since he can't reach the pedals yet. Give him a couple of years and he won't even need that, since I'm only 2 feet taller than he is!

I will be crying when I drive him that first day in September - that's only a hop, skip and a jump from today. I have a couple of years to worry about Kindergarten, but I'll be the one in the backseat sobbing my heart out - by then he will be tall enough to drive!