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Tuesday, December 13, 2011

One man down

This morning, I'm in desperate need of my Mom Cave.

The kids are on the bus. The husband has gone out the door once. Make it twice. Surely the third time will be his last. And, I grabbed a cup of coffee and skulked in here to lick my wounds.

I will not lie. I'm crying as I type. A gal has to have some sort of release, right?

To my fellow wives: what two words from your husbands/significant others fall on deaf ears the most?

Is it "right now" as in, "I'll do this right now", only you know that will never happen?

Is it "right back" as in, "I know we are headed out the door, but I'm gonna just go do this other mundane but suddenly VERY important thing before we leave, so you head out, and I'll be right back." Snort. Yeah, right. We're approaching winter now. My plan is to wait out the "right backs" inside.

No, these little annoyances are merely elements that add to the joys of marriage, don't you agree? lol. I've got the best one, the mack daddy, the home run ball that every wife I know will agree, that, when said, will fall on deaf ears unless more substantial proof is offered.

"I'm sick."

Bwahahahaha! Uh-huh. Now, here's your coffee and have a nice drive into work.

Cough. Cough. "I think I'm dizzy."

Eat a banana with your coffee and enjoy your nice drive into work.

If I took time off for every ailment this life, this house, THESE KIDS have given me, then I'd be on permanent disability. Grrrr. In case you haven't noticed, this issue is a point of contention in my household.

However, yesterday, my husband truly was sick. And, while I realize that he very often complains about coming down with something, constantly discussing his emerging symptoms ad nauseum, he rarely actually succombs to them. Yesterday, he spent the day in bed (with his laptop), but he was, indeed, in bed. This is a sight I rarely ever see.

Daddy was sick.

Fortunately, both children were in school, which gave me until 2:30 to mentally grasp the marathon that spread before me. However, I've come to learn that, in this house, one can never truly prepare.

This holiday season, our younger son's hyperactivity is in overdrive. He is like living flubber, bouncing, screaming and moving about oblivious to his surroundings--that is until something freaks him out, like the elevator his older brother has just decided is his new obsession. During the holiday season, his older brother is taking comfort in mall sprints, running from each store's elevator (up and down) to escalator (up and down). Elevator. Escalator. Repeat until store is boring. Move to next department store.

Younger son bounces around, yelling for all to hear until he gets into an elevator. Oh, gosh, ANXIETY! Per my instructions, he starts breathing deeply to quell his anxiety (only, I think it is zapping him up more).

After homework, dinner, preparing night medicines and pajamas, I decided I couldn't put off the mall any more, and I didn't have daddy to take the next shift.

So,I put jackets on the kids and mentally tried to steady myself for the mall marathon that awaited us. Older son stopped dead in his tracks.


"Daddy. Mall," he said.

"Mama. Mall," I said.

"Daddy, please." he continued.

"Mama today. Daddy tomorrow," I countered.

"Daddy!" He insisted.

"Mama!" I returned.

"DADDY!"

"Mama or you get spanked." Yes, I said it.

He decided Mama would be ok and walked to the car.

The pace is relentless. In one store. Up. Down. Screaming. Bouncing. Breathing. Telling one son to slow down and one son to go faster: one son use his words and one son to BE QUIET. UUUGgggghhhhh! Out of store. Into another.

Ahhh, groovy speakers on the ceilings. Track those for a while. Escalators up. Down. Up. Down.

Elevators. Up. Down. Up. Down. Screaming. Breathing. Screaming. Breathing.

Out of the store and walking to another. Decide to sit on the floor halfway and take off shoes and socks. Heck. I decided to sit down, too. So what?

After nearly two hours of this, I was cooked. I got the kids home and in bed as fast as possible. Once the last smoochy, little munchkin was fluffed and ready for bed I hear...

..."Car."

I ignored it.

"Car."

"No car. Bed."

"Car!" from our older son.

I'm screwed and I know it. Holidays equals high anxiety, which equals more car trips. Lucky me, the post bath car trip starts tonight!!

Let's just say that I didn't handle the dismount from the beds to the downstairs into the kitchen with grace. I did some screaming of my own as we all, clad in our pajamas and boots, put on jackets and headed back out the door and into the van for another blessed trip to who-knew-where.

The drive took about forty minutes, just enough time to make everyone tired. We came home, the boys fell into bed, and so did I. No dinner. Forgot any medicines I usually take. I just fell onto the lovely air mattress we have on the floor for our younger son who is overcome with fear that his room is going to implode and swallow him whole.

I don't know why this morning I thought maybe my husband would spring out of bed to help me get the boys ready for school. Not sure? But, he didn't. The door was still closed. Sigh. I took out the garbage and set to waking, dressing and cooking a boatload of food for these food intolerant kids. I tried to be cheery, and I don't want their days to begin with tension, but I was holding on by a thread.

When the last bus drove off, I quietly walked inside, poured my cup of coffee, sat down and cried. I don't know what my problem was. There were only a couple toileting accidents. I didn't have to change even one diaper in the middle of the night. Things really could have been worse.

Yet, even if it was just a small taste, it was still a taste of what this life would be like without my husband. I wouldn't want it. Please, God, don't ever let that happen. With all the craziness that has been thrown our way, somehow--even if it isn't the best way--we have managed to make it work. Together. As a team.

The thought of doing this alone is enough to break me.

Much love and much respect out there to my fellow special needs moms who are doing it alone every single day!

8 comments:

  1. You have to write a book. You are writing a book. Each of these posts could be strung together like pearls on a necklace. You're a one woman support group for mothers who walk in your path, and a wake up call to the rest of us.
    Hope you catch a moment of joy. -Kelly

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  2. Again I have to say "Whew" after reading your account of one day! Okay, I know this is your life and I know you have it down to a science, if that is even possible, but dang girl! When do you breathe? Oh, the Mom Cave. I think Kelly is absolutely right, these blog pages would be welcome support to so many who are living your life and maybe not understanding they are not alone.
    I am also very glad you have a partner in your life and sorry that he is, well, a man! LOL Men do not do sick very well, in general and unfortunately he's pretty typical!

    ♥ u and keep writing! I know you are helping others as well as yourself!

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  3. I really have never used writing or intended this blog to be an outlet for me, although I know a lot of writers do find writing to be catharctic. I just thought there might be some interest out there...interest in families who don't know much about these needs as to what it is like to live with them daily and, most certainly, interest in fellow special needs parents who find a kinship in my words. What a compliment that would be for me. Thank you both for suggesting that this could possibly happen.

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  4. another chapter DONE..yup your book is manifesting..

    i wrote a whole bunch more and deleted it..lol you know what to do..just every min..tic toc...He'll give you the strength and DO IT..get in the tub bath and let the drain open..as you rise you'll be fresh...eat right...and run that good race...every blog you write is another chapter. Find the editor and get ready for publication...just please..make time for you............the rest will fall in place ((hugs)) WE ADORE YOU

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  5. i agree with these ladies, amy... write a book... you are such an interesting read....

    thank goodness for crying, and coffee!

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  6. Yes, definitely what they said...all the above! You are amazing how you keep up with it all and still keep your sanity. I admire your strength and your loving heart. You are a terrific mother. You earned the right to cry and take a little time for yourself. Write that book!

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  7. I left a big, long comment here yesterday and Blogger ate it. GGGGRRRRR!

    Anyway, all it really said was that I agree--you should write a book. Parents have lots of resources for information, but far less access to the hows of living this life, and that just happens to be your specialty.

    You are kind, smart, funny, articulate, and you are a fabulous mother. Even kind, smart, funny, articulate, fabulous people get tired, worried, overwhelmed, and even plain ol' pissed off sometimes, though, and by sharing the way that you do, you show that it's alright to stumble and second-guess ourselves.

    Your innate goodness, combined with your willingness to be honestly and publicly human, allows your readers--no matter the men we married, children we were given, level of education we achieved, house we live in or degree of financial success--to relate to you and your life. You really DO have something important and valuable to share, and while I'm glad you do it here and am grateful to have found you, I believe that your talents and heart would be warmly welcomed by a much larger audience, if they had the opportunity to know you.

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  8. Thank you all. Yet, just how would a mom of two children with special needs, running around upstate NY with her pants on fire, find a publisher?

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