Still Not Getting Over It

Yesterday I wrote about our Fourth of July because I was trying to let go of some of the things said. But, I just can't seem to get it out of my head. Like millions of tiny little cuts, the things said still sting. My aunt bragging about taking her granddaughter to swimming lessons not long after my mom declared my kids aren't even welcome at her house. My cousin insisting she will raise her kids to be uber polite, sir and m'am the whole nine yards. I guess because my kids weren't polite enough? My mom's comment, the one she didn't think I overheard, about how wild my kids were compared to the quiet boy. And her clear desire for children to be more seen and less heard. I don't think the kids know or understand much of this, at least I hope they don't, but I won't be able to keep them sheltered from it forever. The reality is, I shouldn't have to. I'm not talking about John Q. Public at large, I am talking about my family; the people who are supposed to be my rock, my sanctuary. And instead, they are the source of some of my greatest pain. My children deserve unconditional love. Unconditional, meaning it doesn't matter how they act or what their background is, they are still loved and they know they are loved. Evidently, my children can only be loved if they are obedient. My mom shared the car story with probably the only person who didn't know about it. I am not saying my children are perfect or don't need discipline, but, contrary to popular belief, I don't allow them to act out without retribution. But, I can't punish the ADHD out of my kids. I can't correct away the autism diagnosis from Love Bug. And, in fact, often times hard-nose disciplining can have the opposite effect for children with ODD. I am not claiming to be a parenting expert but I have read enough books and taken enough training to give me a lot of ideas on how to parent my children and their unique needs. It would be super great if people, rather than offering judgment or criticizing, would try stretching their compassion to see we are all really just trying our best. Honestly, I am considering just not coming around because my kids deserve better.   

Unconditional

The one thing quarantine has given me is the space and time to work on myself. I've been reading some books and working with my therapist and it is hard to express it all succinctly, but one recurring theme is how much I need to let go. Four pages of things, to be exact. So, I have been trying to consciously not let things bother me like they used to, to just let it go. This past weekend we went to the farm for the Fourth of July picnic. Usually, my kids are the only kids in attendance. Sometimes my cousin brings his daughter but she is only a toddler. This past weekend an old friend of mine was there with her son, who just turned 10. I have known this friend of mine all my life. Her parents (also at the picnic) are friends with my parents; our mom's have been friends since they were in the seventh grade. As a child she was much like me - quiet, respectful, not one to cause a ruckus. It seems her son is cut from the same cloth. If the adults hadn't spoken to him, you would have hardly known he was there. My kids, not so much. The difference was so stark it bordered on comical. My kids did not sit down, did not stop moving, and got into trouble more than once. At one point, after admonishing Love Bug to not rock the porch swing too hard for the eleventy-seventh time, my mom yelled at me to make him stop. "Did you not hear me tell him multiple times?" I retorted. My cousin (not the mother of the toddler) mumbled, "Time out?" Listen, if you want to parent my kids by all means. I guarantee you will not have them towing the line anymore than I have. But, please tell me again how I'm not doing good enough because my children are clearly hellions. At another point my uncle was trying to convince my mom and dad to vacation with them in Myrtle Beach next year. When my mom said they couldn't leave the farm my uncle offered me to take care of things. I good-naturedly agreed with the stipulation we stay at their house. "Oh my God no! Not with those kids. There wouldn't be a house left until we got home." So, there is my village folks. I am trying to let it go, I am trying to not dwell on it, to not let it hurt. But, it does hurt. My children are not the demure little boy like my son's child because they have not lived the same sheltered life he has lived. And, to be honest, I'd rather have my wild fierce little hellions than a quiet, boring child who never makes life interesting. Would it be nice if my kids would sit quietly while I talk to grown-ups? Sure. But, that is just not our reality. My kids are energetic, full of life, and they don't always follow directions but they are not bad kids. And I am tired of always feeling like I have to explain them to people or defend them to people who should just love them, crazy antics and all.  

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Future Farmer

On Saturday Love Bug turned 6. For the last two months the only thing he has been asking to do on his birthday was go to the farm and help my dad bale hay. I text my parents asking if they could make this possible. Love Bug, my little morning person (the only morning person in my family besides my dad), planned to get up early (he woke up at 5:30 am) and take breakfast from Friendly's (he recently learned his favorite restaurant makes breakfast) to the farm so he could get out into the fields early. I don't know when or why Love Bug became fascinated with hay balers and other farm equipment, but it is in keeping with his interest in learning how things work. My dad was concerned about safety. The equipment is not for play and could cause harm, if Love Bug were to not follow the rules and listen to what he is told. So, I spent a lot of time prepping him, telling him how important it is to listen and do as he is told for his safety. He was so excited, he talked about it every day. On Saturday my mom called me. Not to wish Love Bug a happy birthday, but to express how inconvenient our planned visit was for the next day. She is planning on holding her annual Fourth of July picnic and needed to make sure everything around the house was perfect. She had "so many things to do" we could not make this an all-day event. We could come for breakfast, do the tractor ride and then peace out and go home. I could tell by her voice she was a breath away from cancelling the whole thing. I acquiesced to anything she demanded, just to make this day possible for my Love Bug. I finally watched Instant Family and balled like a baby over how excited Grandma Sandy was to attend the adoption of her grand-kids; how she loved them immediately. My mom is really missing out on some wonderfully special kids. 

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Transitions

Love Bug has started back at daycare for three hours per day. He did really good his first day, but I can still see the cracks of anxiety. He is agitated from the moment he wakes up until we leave for daycare. He asks dozens of times when is it time to leave and this morning got angry when I got ready in the wrong order (usually I get dressed first and then do my makeup, I did it in reverse this morning). He had a good time yesterday and wanted to go back but then balked when the children walked out to go to the park as we were arriving this morning. Fortunately, we have wrap around services and they are there to help him in this transition. It seems coming out of quarantine is just as hard as going in.


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Bubble Popping

During our stint in quarantine, Chica Marie has had a lot of emotions regarding adoption and her biological family come up. A few weeks ago, after asking why she was adopted, she attempted to run away. She even climbed out her bedroom window (which is above the basement door and about 8 feet off the ground). She has been showing some signs of prepubescent changes, so I don't know how much hormones might be starting to play into the mental health. I am desperate for us to strengthen our connection before puberty hits because right now we struggle. Next week Love Bug will go to daycare for 3 hours per day. Chica Marie will stay home and work with her therapists to try to tease out some of the things she simply will not talk about but seem to cause her the most anguish. Last week during play therapy with her therapist she revealed she trusts me a lot more than her bio mom. At one point, the doll family invited bio mom to live with them but quickly asked her to leave because she was being inappropriate. I suppose, it's because she trusts me that she pushes me away so hard. I am hoping we can make more headway with some one-on-one therapy with her as our little bubble of family intimacy is popping. Chica Marie will attend daycare for half-days with Love Bug the last week of June and then full days when I am back at work in July.


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New Normal

I will be returning to work starting July 6th. I mean, I've been working from home since before the stay at home order started. But, we are hoping our county will move to green soon (we just moved to yellow this past Friday) and therefore it will be time to physically return to work. In the beginning I was very anxious to get back to work. Now, somehow I flipped and do not want to return to work at all. I don't know at what point this happened, but here we are now. Regardless, I will need to return to work, if I like to keep eating and paying for all the stuff I keep buying online. Unfortunately, the powers that be, who had been cooking up a plan to change our working hours prior to the whole pandemic quarantine thing, have used this as an opportunity to push their agenda. For 10 years I have worked from 8:30 - 4:30 Monday through Friday. Now, we are being asked to extend our hours to be open from 8 am to 8 pm Monday through Thursday and Friday from 8 am to 4 pm. Oh, and Saturday from 9 am to 11 am. What the actual fuck? I understand the need to be open later hours for folks who work second shift (although, you would think 20 years ago when they created the job centers nationally, they could have considered this?), but this makes things harder. We have been home, working and doing the best we can, trying to make it through all of this and now, as we are figuring out how to open things up, we get slammed with some big new change. As I contemplated how to make this work for my family, it made me more and more angry. I need my job, but I did not sign up for this and these hours were going to be hell on my family. At one point my supervisor mentioned my coworker (who is the lowest in seniority and by union rules, should have the last choice on new hours) had custody of her kids 60% of the time and therefore couldn't work Monday evenings. I lost my shit. I didn't yell, but I emphatically told my supervisor, "I completely understand. I have custody of my children 100% of the time. So, I am not trying to be unsympathetic to the needs of the team, but these extended hours are a real hardship for me and my family. And, if this is going to be an indefinite change, I need to brush up my resume and consider other options. I need to do what is best for my family." My coworker friend will be taking a promotion to another job when we return to work, so I know it scared my supervisor, to think of losing two of the career advisors who know their jobs and do them well. Eventually, it was worked out that I would work from home on Monday's and work from 8 am to 4 pm Monday through Friday. This schedule works until the kids go back to school. And then I will need to either see if the daycare can take them to school in the morning or hope and pray the powers that be revert back to our normal hours. My supervisor promised the board would "take a look" at the data to see if the extended hours are needed. I don't know if I believe they will actually consider the data, since it was already on their agenda. Thus far, I am not enjoying this "new normal."

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Mental Health Break

I know we are staying home to "flatten the curve" and slow the spread of the virus. I know we are practicing social distancing and wearing masks for the more vulnerable, those susceptible to not only becoming sick but to having a harder time fighting off the virus. I know these things. But, the mental health toll the quarantine is having on me and my family has become a greater worry for me. I know I have gone through a lot of barrel rolls emotionally since being sent home from work on March 17th. I know my children have experienced the same tumultuous roller coaster emotionally. They were sent home from school with the promise of returning in a few weeks. Without getting a chance to say good-bye to their friends or teachers, they were told school would not resume this school year. They had to adjust to learning online, seeing their teachers and friends on Zoom calls or via videos and pictures. We continued therapy sessions, but this too was via a Zoom call and not in person. Their world narrowed to no physical contact with friends or family outside of our home. And then the playgrounds were closed. The kids had to get used to mom working from home and hushing them during work calls. They quickly bored with playing in their own backyard and walks were exciting but also got boring when we kept going to the same place (because I was not sure what was open and what the mask requirements were of other places). The few times we have gone out as a family, the kids had to wear masks, which caused sensory issues and heightened their anxiety. For my Love Bug, the anxiety has caused him to fear weather events and separation from me. For Chica Marie, her focus has been on adoption and missing her family of origin. The rate of tantrums, sibling fights, crying or yelling spells has increased in duration and intensity. This past weekend Chica Marie tried running away from home. We are cracking, we are breaking. And I have gotten to the point where I feel the damage done mentally to my family might outweigh the good we did staying home. 

My state is working through three levels of quarantine. Each county is broken down into a red (stay home, most restrictive), yellow (cautiously opening some businesses) and green (least restrictive yet still not back to pre-quarantine society) category. My county is currently in red but moving to yellow on June 4th. Other counties are already in green as of last week, with more joining green the end of this week. I can hardly keep track of what is open, what we are "allowed" to do and if or when it will be happening. I am not returning to the office while we are under yellow status. I am not sure how low our numbers (of new COVID cases) need to go to get us into green or how long that might take. My supervisor is saying he doesn't think we will be back in the office until July. Our daycare is opening next week, our local pool is not opening at all this year. Primero has no idea when he will be able to return to work. I need to create a re-entry strategy for Love Bug because going back to daycare and being away from me will be hard for him. I am hoping to have enough notice from work to do that. 

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