Our younger son is currently in the back yard with the garden hose. Ugh. We are studying land and water formations during his home school lessons--keys, bays, archipelagos, deltas, etc.--and he has decided that it would be a good idea to recreate them in the dirt right outside the door. His rivers are growing into lagoons as I type. Yes, I do know that it isn't ideal to allow him to turn the yard into a mud pit. But, hey, today is all about survival. Have at it, kid! May your fords grow into rivers and your cascades into cataracts! Mama is taking a break.
I must confess that I was in the Mom Cave already today. In fact, I was in here at the tender hour of 8:40 am. Should I be concerned about that? Heck no! I think it is pure genius! After all, this life isn't a sprint. I've gotta pace myself for a marathon! I was reluctant to start the day and took some time to collect myself.
In case it isn't obvious, yesterday, THEY WON.
It was raining outside, so I did not incorporate physical activity into the homeschool lesson. Who knew that our younger son's sensory system would go crazy without it? After all, it was only my second day of teaching him. And, by mid-afternoon, he was a screaming lunatic. I don't even think he spoke real words. Everything out of his mouth more resembled a maniac whoop. He spent the afternoon in hot pursuit of the dog, jumping on his brother and, my personal favorite, running circles around and around my body until I finally started breathing fire! In fact, we had earlier in the day studied hieroglyphics and the development of symbolic language. Putting his new skill to use, he proceeded to write in his own hieroglyphics that his mom was a fire-breathing monster. Sweet.
Our older son is in the middle of a medicine trial. Med trials are not fun in this house. He has a terribly weak digestive system and usually gets sick from the meds. Also, common side effects from the meds really disrupt his system. He's either awake all night or compulsive, bolting out of the house or away from us in public. Is he in flight mode from some pain he is experiencing but can't communicate? Is it disrupting his body's sensory signals so that he can't calm down? Are the meds just masking his inhibitions? Who knows!
By the way, yesterday's medicine also removed his toileting skills. Sorry if the topic is indelicate. This life is NOT dainty! I cleaned up after explosive BMs in no less than five places in the house. Not one of those five places was an actual bathroom, by the way. The smell was permanently etched in my nose. He wasn't so thrilled with it, either. It's not what he wanted to do with his afternoon.
His lovely tic is still here. Hands in pants. Penis. Hands out of pants. Eyeball. Younger son war whooping: Hand in pants, etc. Explosive BM: more penis/eyeball action. Barking dogs and a yelling mom--well, you get the picture. I finally cried "uncle" about 6pm and started sending the "When are you coming home?" texts to my husband. I'm sure all working spouses enjoy those!
It was actually a typical day in this house. But, my coping skills just weren't there. As soon as I could, I uncorked some mommy juice that a fellow sped mom brought over to me. Love my fellow sped moms. They don't care if you are psycho because they pretty much are psycho as well. If we're lucky, we can rotate our meltdowns so that someone can run to another's rescue when needed. Support is invaluable. It can help you stand when you are just too tired to do it but know that there is nobody else to answer the call. Life requires me to step up to the plate every day, all day, no matter the circumstances. I wish I were a machine, but then I guess I would have no need for a Mom Cave.
Truth be told, this place is kind of growing on me.
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