Of Two Minds

Next month I will officially enroll Love Bug in kindergarten. Yikes bikes! It doesn’t seem possible! We are going to a special registration where Love Bug will be evaluated regarding his ASD diagnosis. And I will be sitting on pins and needles holding my breath. I am of two minds here. On the one hand, Love Bug is smart (latest smarty pants moment – he wanted to know what time he would be picked up for his “special school.” I told him a little after 11. He can’t tell time yet, so he asked me, “what am I doing at 11?” so he could figure out when it was 11, thus when he would be getting picked up.) and, with the help of a TSS worker, I think he could manage being in a traditional classroom. I think he should be challenged to learn what the other students are learning and I don’t think it’s fair to toss him into another classroom without even giving him a chance to see how he manages. But…. On the other hand, the school is not there just to meet the whims of me and Love Bug and it isn’t fair to allow Love Bug to distract the other students in his class. He might also manage better in a different classroom tailored to the needs of children with the same diagnosis. I am not a teacher. I’m not an expert in early childhood education. But, I am the Love Bug expert. And, I’m not in favor of mediocre just because it makes someone else’s job easier (not that I’m saying the school is either). I’m sure ultimately, Love Bug will get into the right classroom. I’m just a little bit on edge until it is all worked out. I want him to have a good start to school and I worry that some of the stuff that tripped up his sister might be repeated with him. And this time around I won’t have the county making the ultimate decision. Love Bug’s mobile therapist has brought it up to me again, this idea that Love Bug might be in a specialized classroom setting. The teacher for the school preparation class he has been taking has emailed me asking for him to attend for more hours. She wants him to be there when more staff is available to work with him and help with the on-going evaluation. I feel like Love Bug has been undergoing a lot of evaluation and, other than getting a TSS worker and starting this class, not much seems to be happening to help him (and me) learn to change the difficult and disruptive behaviors. I am nervous about school starting and this school year hasn’t even ended yet!

Hope for Change

Last night Primero spent some time at his oldest brother’s house. His oldest brother, Mr. J., is expecting his first child in September and Primero is pretty excited about it. They had a nice visit and Primero helped his brother’s girlfriend to understand her WIC checks and after an impromptu shopping excursion, they snacked on some McDonald’s. As Primero was getting ready to leave, his mother showed up. She has been living with Mr. J, his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s mother. Both mothers have a drinking problem and Primero’s mom was noticeably drunk. She saw him and told him, “You know Primero, you are a white boy who thinks he knows everything and gets whatever he wants.” Primero shrugged as he told me this, but I know it upset him. He chalked it up to his mom being drunk, and I’m sure that’s part of it, but I think it has more to do with jealousy. I think she is jealous that he is doing so well and making his way somewhere in the world. And I think the white dig was really more directed towards me, that somehow I’ve made him “white” by association. I really don’t understand her and I really don’t think I want to. I hope Primero is able to brush it off as he said he did when he told me about it, but I think this might be something that sticks with him, as things have in the past. I want to believe there is hope for people, hope they can change and make better decisions, but when I look at his mom that seems foolish. And it all makes me so sad.

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Our New Ride

February 28^th marked five years since Primero moved in with me. This year we marked the day by getting a new van. We had finally gotten the income tax return money and went to the dealership to see if we could qualify for a loan on a newer van. Our old van was in very sad shape. Rust spots were eating through all four doors. There were scrapes and dents, some big and noticeable, all along the body. The front headlight on the driver’s side never fit back in the socket correctly after our accident, so it hung lopsidedly and on many occasions Good Samaritans would advise me I was losing my headlight. The window on the front passenger’s side would work sometimes and other times not. The back passenger’s side sliding door was broken and could not be used at all. The sliding door behind the driver could only be opened by the button inside, since the lock broke and sometimes, when it was really, really hot, the door would not open at all. The spare tire was in the back instead of under the van where it belonged because the winch was broken and we couldn’t put the tire back. The check engine light was always on. The oil light would flicker off and on and sometimes it meant the van needed oil and sometimes it didn’t. The van used about 2 quarts of oil every 6 weeks. The back tire on the passenger side was losing air and required a refill every two days. The heat did not really work up front, the defrost did not work in the front and the AC hadn’t worked in years. Plus, the van roared so loudly because the exhaust was disconnected or had a hole or something, so it made normal conversation nearly impossible and listening to the radio was similarly hard to do. So, it was more than time for our van to be put to rest. We had used it up as much as we could.

 

Our new van is not fancy, but it feels like we hit the jackpot compared to our old van. The new van is 10 years newer, for one, and with 150,000 miles less wear and tear. It does not have the fancy electric gadgets, so all the doors open manually unlike the old van, but that means less electronic things to go on the fritz. The new van is clean and drives like a dream. The night and day difference is nearly palpable; just being able to hear my children talk to me from the back seat again brings tears to my eyes! We don’t have a fancy back up screen or any other special features newer vehicles have, but that is what made our van affordable for us. The lack of bells and whistles but low mileage is really an agreeable exchange for us. We don’t take long trips, so we really need a van that can reliably get us from point A to point B and we have that in our new van. I feel like we are much safer too because we don’t have to worry about the van dying and leaving us sit alongside the road somewhere. The only downside is having a car loan again. I am going to try being an Uber driver to help offset the cost of the van. We’ll see how it goes. For right now we are all just so happy and much, much more comfortable in our new ride.

Not A Good Weekend

This past weekend was not a good one. Things started out ok, going to the car dealership to drop off the title to the old van, visiting with my friend and the kids playing with her dog in the snow. But, it was at my friend’s house where things started to sour with Love Bug. I don’t remember what made him mad. I think I denied him something, maybe candy. But, he got angry at me and started kicking me, landing a few good thumps to my shins before he began pummeling my hip and thigh with his fists. He screamed and yelled in my friends kitchen as he tried to continue his battery assault. Eventually, I got him calmed down and we made our way to the stadium for the cheer competition. Love Bug had settled a little during the ride and he was excited when we were stopped by the train that passes just next to the stadium. But, he was already unraveling. He ran, without holding my hand, and he demanded ice cream loudly until his grandmother bought him some. By the time we finally made it back home, I was wiped out but Love Bug’s dysregulation continued for a few more hours until he finally softened back to his normal self, snuggling on my lap. By that time, it was past their bedtime.

 

The following day we had to go grocery shopping after dropping Primero off at work and then we had to leave for Chica Marie’s cheerleading banquet. We were taking one of her friends along with us and it was expected to start snowing. Grocery shopping was enough to set Love Bug off and by the time we reached the banquet hall, he was rammy. He could not tolerate waiting for our table to be called to get in line to eat, but once we were in line, he stood and held my hand like an angel. Not long after we were done eating, he became agitated again. He wanted to watch train videos on my phone but I would not let him. He tried hitting and kicking me again. I rebuffed him and so spent most of the time sliding around on the dirty floor and ignoring me. It felt rude to leave while the wrestling coaches talked about their amazing season, but as soon as the majority of the people started standing to leave, we exited out a side door.

 

We have a new foster puppy, he came to us on Valentine’s Day so we call him Valentino. He’s an adorable rascal. And he pees and poops. On our floors. A lot. And it is starting to make me unravel. Last week I was up early one morning washing all the floors in the house. It’s just bad. An added task I simply do not need, but well, there it is. Most of the time I can handle it. But, after all the trying times with Love Bug and the emotional, mental and physical exhaustion I was feeling, I lost my shit Sunday night. What horrendous even tipped me over the edge into hysterics? A cat knocked a potted aloe plant into the sink. The biggest plant. Dirty was everywhere and my poor plant was in shambles. I had recently just spent the better part of an afternoon cleaning up the window sill above the kitchen sink because the cats have been attacking my plants and I wanted to try to save them. I lost a cactus type plant I had owned since I moved in and I didn’t want the aloe plants to follow suit. I don’t know if there is much hope for them, but I keep trying. And the cats keep knocking them down. And Sunday night, when I heard the crash and ran into the kitchen to see the mess, I was just done. Done with everything. Hastily, I put the kids to bed and sobbed as I scrapped the dirt back into the container and stuck the unlucky aloe plants back into the ground. Not long after I got the plant cleaned up, I put the dogs outside. As I was washing the mascara off my face, the kids got out of bed and went into my bedroom. Love Bug climbed into my bed, Chica Marie curled up with a blanket and pillow on the floor. I was almost catatonic by this point. I didn’t wrestle them back to bed, I just prepared myself to go to sleep since I was not going to get the night to myself. I heard the beagle howling and went to check on the dogs. The neighbors were out, sitting on their front porch in the falling snow. Their dog was also out and our dogs were barking and howling in protest. I called the dogs to come back inside, but they would not listen. I began sobbing again and told Primero I just wanted to get in the car and drive away. I wanted to be anywhere but where I was at the moment. I was so tired, so exhausted, so defeated by everything. He brought the dog inside and sent the kids back to their beds. I laid down and tried to sleep but found I could not. The snow knocked out the cable dish, so I couldn’t even distract myself with TV. I laid in the dark and hoped I didn’t have a snow day on Monday because I needed to go to work and be away from everyone. I ended up having a two-hour delay, allowing me to catch some more necessary sleep.

Downright Hard

I wish I had listened to myself. I wish I hadn’t let the pressure to keep things fair for both kids color my decision. I wish the whole thing was easier than it was, but that is all I can do now – wish. Last Thursday we got our new van (more on this later). I was so surprised that we were driving home in the new van, I hadn’t even thought about bringing along any paperwork, so I had to take the title to the old van back to the dealership Saturday morning. Of course, it has snowed every day since we brought the new van home, so I wanted to give us extra time Saturday morning. We arrived at the dealership sometime around 11:30 and the transaction didn’t take long but we would a good 35 minute drive outside of town and I had to drop some things off with my friend on our way back to the stadium where the cheer competition was being held. It was close to one by the time we reached the stadium and Love Bug was a little hangry. Grandma, the kids mom, and a cousin met us at the doors. I knew the kids mom would be there but didn’t tell them, thinking it would be nice surprise and it was. Things between me and the kids mom have evolved positively since our first very bad meeting, but there is still an unease between us. As we waited in line to enter the event, the kids mom put lip gloss on Chica Marie’s lips, mentioning loudly how chapped they were and how awful it was that her lips were so chapped. After we entered, we walked around to find ice cream for Love Bug because he remembers getting ice cream the last time we were in the arena for the Globetrotters event. Grandma got both the kids dippin dots then a hotdog meal and we sat down. The kids being there was a surprise for Mini Momma and she was delighted to see them, yet refused to sit with the rest of us, opting to sit closer to her team. In addition to Grandma, the kids mom and the cousin, Grandma’s wife was there and so was Mom’s boyfriend, who the kids have met before. The kids sat down next to their mom and after a few minutes Grandma commented how good Love Bug was doing sitting still. I sighed. Of course he was sitting still, he was eating the food she had bought him. Before long the kids asked for cotton candy and I let them go with their cousin to buy some. I told her a small bag or one big one for them to share but they came back with two big bags. And things with Love Bug went downhill from there. Not only did he not want to sit, he also did not want to listen to anyone. At one point his mom bought him water to “wash out all that cotton candy” and help him be more calm. Another time he was tantruming on the stairs and we were both there. His mom tried to grab him the same time I did and she ended up getting kicked, then releasing him to me. I was getting frustrated at that point but trying to keep calm so we could watch their sister and her team. Going into this event I thought about sharing the pending diagnosis for Love Bug as a way to explain how he acts. I felt judged for my parenting skills, or lack thereof, the more Love Bug acted out. I knew he was overwhelmed, I knew he really just needed to leave, but I felt like we couldn’t do that, we couldn’t just leave. Thankfully, we had to go by a certain time in order to take Primero into work. I was so exhausted by that point I could have wept. But, it was Chica Marie who cried the whole ride home, sobbing that she wanted to see her mommy again. She was told next time she went to see her Grandmother she would see her mom but I don’t think anyone told her directly that her mom was living with her grandmother and therefore her sister as well. I think it would hurt her heart to know her sister and mom were living together. I can sense those same old feelings Chica Marie used to feel during visits when she was pushed aside for her older sister and I hate it for her. We do not have a date set for the kids to visit, but I’m sure it will be soon and I am already dreading it. I am so glad their mom is doing better I am very glad she can be in their lives, but honestly this whole thing is just downright hard.

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Unequal

 

Grandma invited me and the kids to watch a cheer championship where Mini Momma’s team will be competing. It is in our town, so that makes it very convenient. I said we would like to go but cautioned that Love Bug would likely not sit through the whole three-hour event. Grandma responded by offering for me to just drop Chica Marie off with them. On the surface it sounds like she is trying to make a compromise but I honestly think it’s more than that. In the past, Love Bug has been over-looked by Grandma in favor of Chica Marie. I understand it must be harder with Love Bug because he has only every lived with me and so he feels like he is more mine and less theirs. I get that. But, kids are not dumb and they know when one is getting special treatment over the other. Back when Grandma thought she was going to get Chica Marie, she brought a special track suit to court for her. Nothing for Love Bug. Chica Marie was given change from Grandma and Love Bug didn’t get a cent. Maybe it’s because my parents and my grandparents were always big on making things as fair as they could, but it ruffles my feathers how easy it seems to drop Love Bug in favor of Chica Marie. I know Grandma has more of a connection with Chica Marie and maybe even identifies more with her, but Love Bug also wants to be recognized as part of the family and I know, if this continues, it will hurt him if there isn’t more equality. So, I decided we would all go together and we will stay as long as Love Bug is willing and when he has had enough and is feeling overwhelmed and tantrum-y then we will go. Is it unfair of me to take Chica Marie away from the event? Maybe. But, at least her and her brother have the same experience.

Everybody Hurts

In my last post, I wrote about a book I recently read called “Sensitivity Girl.” I expressed feeling inadequate and sad about not having a strong network of people I can lean on and trust in times of need, like the author had. Even though I overall liked the book, there were other difficult themes I encountered. The author wrote about how she surprisingly became pregnant with triplets moments after stopping birth control. Not only did she not have any issues with infertility but she was a fertile overachiever. She became pregnant. With triplets. Without medical intervention. Without even trying hard. And it was such a surprise! It was hard to read that blessedly short section of the book. As I read, I reminded myself her amazing fertility aside, she certainly had many other challenges, including a complicated pregnancy with many weeks of bedrest. Still, when looking at the inequality of infertility, it’s just another reminder the world is not fair. It’s not that I would ever want to be pregnant with triplets, but I do feel a twinge of jealousy at how ridiculously easy it was for her to conceive not one, but three babies simultaneously. Did I mention she was in her mid-30’s? You know, when a woman’s fertility is supposed to be tipping into the abyss of infertility to the sound of an erratic, beating internal clock. It’s hard to not read that and have to swallow the lump of jealousy, to push away the green monster of envy clawing into my mind. She spent little time contemplating the miraculous conception, focusing more on the complicated pregnancy and marital issues that began cropping up, but this is part of the book that has stuck with me.

 

In addition to the miraculous, semi-unplanned triplet pregnancy, she wrote about how “easy” her kids were as they were growing up. She literally said her kids were easy, meaning they didn’t have a lot of behavioral issues even having lost their father at such young ages. She worried about not “messing up” with them doubly because she was left as their sole surviving parent following the death of her husband. She worked hard to have a calm, loving environment for them. Her kids seemed to respond and grow positively. This is all terrific and it is wonderful to read how well-adjusted them seemed to be, but…. God it was hard to read! As soon as I read the sentence of how “easy” her kids were, I put the book down. I just needed to breathe a few minutes. Again, it isn’t that everything was easy for her and it certainly didn’t mean there weren’t moments her kids gave her a run for her money. But, the overall idea that they were easy stabbed me in the heart because I could never describe my kids as easy. Not even tiny infant Love Bug was easy. Loving them is easy. Raising them is hard, so very, very hard. I would think having three at once would be hard and the kids would struggle with getting enough attention from their mom. But, I view the world thought a lens of a different color. My children have faced trauma at very young ages. This trauma has led to some maladaptive behaviors; things they needed to create to help them survive but make for difficulties when they don’t need to be in fight or flight mode. These behaviors spill over into our everyday lives and are complicated by diagnosis like ADHD, Oppositional Defiance, and Autism Spectrum Disorder. I love my children, I wouldn’t trade them for the world, but they give me a run for the money daily. Their struggle has become mine and sometimes, after long days of trying behaviors, I feel like the best to hope for is to just hang on.

 

The greater take-away I have after reading this book is that everyone goes through tough times, but they are all as individual as every person. What is excruciatingly hard for me might not be the hard thing for someone else but their hard thing might be something I couldn’t even imagine enduring. Both the author and I have experienced loss, just in different ways. There is no point in trying to compare the differences in our losses because they are as unique to us as our fingerprints. It is better to focus on how we each found the strength to soldier through our difficulties because that is truly the beauty of our stories.