I Hate that Sound…

frustration

frustration by Sean MacEntee

One of the worst sounds to my ears is the sound of The Boy expressing frustration.  Partly because, if left unchecked, it could lead to a meltdown, or perseveration on some negative thing.  But mostly because he is 11, and I have tried and tried for years to teach him to ask for help when he gets frustrated, and instead he continues to do this thing…  This “ARGGHHHH!” thing, to which I think I am supposed to come running and solve his problem.  Or the extremely loud self-talk that sometimes accompanies it (but which I can’t understand, because it is often coming from the basement).  I don’t ever respond, except to say, “Do you need help?”  I rarely get a response, just more “ARGGGGHHHH!” and indistinguishable self-talk.  Beyond that question, I do not respond, knowing that if I do, he will learn that I will try to anticipate his every need, and instead, I want him to learn to communicate his needs and ask for help, even when frustrated.

And so, I will wait him out, turning on some music to drown out the “ARGGGGGHHHH!” until he comes to me of his own accord, or gets interested in something else.

But that noise is just about the worst…

Book Review: Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert

The Kiss - RodinI know there are a lot of Elizabeth Gilbert haters out there, but I think she is actually a very good writer, and just because her books have been popular does not mean that her writing is mediocre. I find her writing style personable and engaging. I enjoyed Eat, Pray, Love, all the while envying her ability to travel like that – would that we could all take a year and visit three amazing places on our bucket list! Some complain that her divorce as portrayed in the book wasn’t “real” enough, even though her divorce isn’t actually the center of the story – her recovery is (and shouldn’t we single gals be supporting each other instead of tearing each other down with “if you think that’s bad” stories?).  When Committed came out, I actually bought it in hard cover (not a planned purchase, just one of those see-it-in-the-bookstore-and-think-what-the-heck purchases).  And I read it and enjoyed it, how it weaves anecdotes with research, and I learned a heck of a lot more about matrimony than I had ever known before. I like books where I learn stuff.

Here I am, on the cusp of getting married again, to someone who is not-scared-of getting married, but shall we say, a little anxious, not having been married since the mid-eighties. And I remembered this book, sitting on my shelf, about a man and a woman facing marriage, and who are also a-little-more-than-anxious about getting married. I decided to read it again, to see if I could gather any insight into my fiancé’s perspective, and explore my own feelings on the subject.

Ms. Gilbert says, “It’s been famously said that second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience, but I’m not entirely sure that’s true. It seems to me that first marriages are the more hope-drenched affairs, awash in vast expectations and easy optimism. Second marriages are cloaked, I think in something else: a respect for forces that are bigger than us, maybe. A respect that perhaps even approaches awe.” I tend to agree, although I think hope is the wrong word here. I think first-time marriages are the epitome of naivete (sorry – can’t think of a better word!), thinking that divorce will just not “happen” to them, because they think they are in control, while second marriages are hopefully careful, acknowledging that there are forces within and around a marriage that are just not in our control, but that being aware, and having that experience may actually give us an edge.

I take exception to her terminology and jaunt into singlemomdom, when she uses that washed up old term “broken home” to describe a single parent family. Although she does stress that her point about kids doing better in two-parent homes is actually in reference to the consistency and stability of a family, rather than the actual numbers of parents, I really just wish she had said that instead of the whole “kids do better in un-broken homes” section.

But the stories about the people she encounters on the other side of the world, and how silly her questions may have sounded, and the over-analyzing of the marriage statistics…  It all makes sense to me.  Because I do the same thing when I am anxious about something.  I’m not (very) anxious about my own second trip down the aisle, but as I said, I get it – I completely understand why anyone would be.

Another point that resonated with me was the discovery that early western marriages were in spite of the Church, who wanted no one between an individual and God, not even a spouse. Early western marriages, then, were alliances between a man and a woman, in effect, against the world. I like that.

I spoke with a friend today who is at the beginning stages of her second divorce, and she is obviously bitter about marriage in general.  She can’t be happy for me, although she is trying – and I understand.  She said, “Why can’t you just be happy together?  Why do you have to get married?”  I had no reply, because I understood.  But my question back is, Would your heart hurt any less if you had never gotten married this second time?  Or would it still be messy and ugly, this breaking up stuff?

In any case, this book is a thinking person’s book for anyone, not just those contemplating a second marriage. Ms. Gilbert tackles tradition, cultural differences, expectation, and anything else a skeptic would research before coming to terms with something as important and life-altering as getting married, for the second time.

No Need to be Nasty

Waiting Room by Melissa Venable

Waiting Room by Melissa Venable

The camp that I’d like to send The Boy to this summer, in lieu of ESY has an 11 page application, part of which must be filled out by his physician. We were just at his doctor’s office last week, getting his booster, but when I approached the desk to ask about getting this filled out, no one seemed interested in helping me, and rather than stand there like an idiot, I decided to leave and call about it later. I called today, and politely explained to the woman on the other end of the phone that I needed to get this paperwork filled out by May 10. She responded that the doctors in the practice didn’t “just do that”, meaning fill out paperwork for camps and such, and that we would have to have a physical. I expected this, and when she asked when his last physical was, I told her August, and she then replied that he would have to wait until a year after that physical, and went to disconnect the phone! I raised my voice slightly, explaining that we were moving in June, so waiting until August was an impossibility, and that I had spoken to someone in her office who had said that it depended on our insurance when another physical could be done. I assured her that we were in the clear according to our insurance, and could we schedule a later appointment for this, due to my son having autism, and hating to miss school? She grudgingly offered up a 3:30 appointment in May, and I asked if there was anything later in the day, as The Boy is still in school at that time. She responded that that was the latest appointment she had before our deadline, adding that the late appointments fill up fast because everyone wants them after school.

I shouldn’t have to fight for an appointment! I shouldn’t have to raise my voice to get the service that I need! If you would like my son to be having a meltdown when he comes for his physical, than by all means, continue to be flippant with me about how everyone wants late appointments!

This is not the first time I have had issue with the office staff in this practice. Two summers ago, I was running a summer camp, and couldn’t leave until the last camper had been picked up. Of course, I had The Boy with me because we had an appointment scheduled about 30 minutes after camp was over. Unfortunately, the parent of this camper was extremely late. I called the office after he had finally been picked up, and explained that I would be 10 or 15 minutes late, knowing that usually one waits at least 45 minutes to see an actual doctor. The staff member proceeded to lecture me about being late, and that they would have to cancel my appointment. I pressed the issue, saying that we would be right there, and couldn’t we just keep our appointment time, and she lectured me again about being responsible about keeping appointment times, refusing to see us. I swore I wouldn’t go back, but when you have a child with special needs, finding a doctor who understands your child’s background is essential, and you often have to make compromises.

I can remember loving the dentist I had as a child, and hating his office staff and his dental hygienists with a passion. And we actually did leave the practice of The Boy’s first dentist because they couldn’t be flexible with appointment times.

Don’t these people understand that they drive people away when they treat them this way? They create anxiety in the patient, and they create mistrust with the patient’s caregiver, namely me! And in these days and times of social media, consumers have no compunction about telling all and sundry about their experiences with your business, especially if they were negative. I just don’t understand how they get away with it, and I’m glad I won’t have to be dealing with this particular office staff again!

The Cat’s New Tail

The Boy has a cold, and you know what happens when you mix autism and illness… let’s just say hilarity does not ensue.  Cranky-pants, constant-verge-of-meltdown ensues, and it ain’t pretty.  And from what I can tell, school was no different from home today.  So when we arrived home today, he put on his “cat costume” (which isn’t really a cat costume, but more of an everything-plaid ensemble, because according to The Boy, that makes him look like a calico…  okaayyyy…) and went outside, because it was rather warm today (and sunny!).  The last detail of the cat costume is the scarf (tail) he and The Man bought me for my birthday a couple of years ago, but today, the scarf had other ideas about being dragged on the concrete.  It turned into a frayed mess, and The Boy began to wail because it was “broken”.

We went back and forth, me trying to calm him and offer solutions, and The Boy calling me names and dwelling on the negative.

I have found over the past few months, that when The Boy is at his most frustrating and meanest point, he will often welcome a hug, and crawl into my arms (well most of him), and cry like a baby.  That’s what this behavior all boils down to, folks.  It’s an expression of his feelings.  He doesn’t really mean that he would like a new and better mom, he just means, “I’m sad and mad and frustrated, and I want to cry”!

While he was in my arms, I started suggesting alternatives to the scarf.  Rather than try another fabric scarf (which is what he wanted to do), we needed something different, something tougher that would withstand the concrete, because fabric and concrete just don’t get along.  He attempted to get sidetracked with, “Why do concrete and fabric not get along?”, but I motored right past, thinking aloud about something vinyl or plastic, like an outdoor tablecloth…  I suggested we go to the fabric store to see what they had.  I then had to explain that fabric stores had all kinds of materials and not just fabric (because I think I really confused him after just telling him that fabric and concrete didn’t get along!).  As soon as he understood what I was getting at, he wanted to go immediately, all full of hope and smiles.

We were able to find a plaid outdoor tablecloth material for $3 a yard, and came home triumphant.  I offered to sew it up for him, so that the soft side wouldn’t be exposed, and he enthusiastically agreed.  I broke out my new IKEA sewing machine for the first time, reached way back into my memory banks to remember how to set it up, and was able to do what I had promised.

And now our “cat” has a new tail!

This is a day in the life, and this kind of turnaround is what I live for.

The things I do for my kid

Is it Really Spring? For Real?

I’m not saying I have Seasonal Affective Disorder or anything, but a lack of sunshine up here in the winter months really takes it’s toll.  And spring here is also cruel, giving us a few days of nice temps or sunshine (or if we’re really lucky, both at the same time!), but then the 30 and 40 degree temps come back in the end.  And it isn’t until we’re well into May that we can relax and realize that spring is here, for another month and a half until it turns downright hot, and the switch is flipped to summer.

To all the people that call spring their favorite season, I understand why.  The hope, the baby animals, the buds, yadda yadda…  But where I live, it just doesn’t live up to the hype.  Yeah, we have a few nice days here and there, but most of the time, we’re left wishin’ and hopin’ and prayin’.

Today is one of those pretty nice days: 65 degrees, although overcast, still enough of a breeze to require a jacket, and lovely little harbingers of warmer weather making their presence known:

first sign of spring

(please disregard the weeds in the picture – I have no idea how they got there!  And don’t get excited about the tulip-looking thing beside the crocus… My tulips are head-less….)

But I’m no dummy, and I ain’t gonna fall for it.  I think we’re back down to the 40s again this weekend.  The wait continues…

Need to Reboot!

Did you ever have a day that felt like a complete waste?  I’m beginning to get overwhelmed, and as a result, I’m shutting down: not working out, not getting much done.  Too much thinking, and not enough doing.  I’m feeling fatigued and headache-y for no reason, and it’s taking major effort to get anything on my to-do list to-done.

Get things down to get things doneDesperate times call for desperate measures.  When I am thinking too much, I need to do a brain dump on a pad of paper, and write down every little thing that keeps popping up, even to the point of keeping it on my nightstand and jotting things down as they come to me in the middle of the night.  This is part of the Getting Things Done philosophy that I use, albeit on an irregular basis.  Once everything gets “dumped”, it needs to be organized into things that I can do something about, and things I can’t.  If I can’t do anything about it, at least it’s on paper and not circling my brain anymore.  If I can do something about it, it joins my to-do list.  For smaller tasks like housework, I can use the Pomodoro technique to get myself in gear, and the calendar works for larger to-do items – deadlines have always worked for me.

A day off (for organizational purposes, of course) and a massage (purely for the headache-y, fatigue-y feeling) may also be in order.

I don’t have time to be in a funk!

Poppy’s Advice

Hypodermic Needle Pen by Virany

Hypodermic Needle Pen by Virany

Today, The Boy had to get his first shot in a long while.  I know there isn’t a kid on Earth who likes getting shots, but the thought of getting a “poke” sets my kid on edge as soon as he knows about it.  This time, he was so anxious, he created a fictional story about having to go to OT in a nearby city as the reason why I had to pick him up a bit early from school today, instead of the reality of going to his doctor’s office for a booster shot.  In fact, every time we go to the doctor, his first question is, “Do I have to get a shot?”

I have been prepping him since October for this one, and when we’ve talked about it, I offered him the advice my needle-shy dad always gave me for getting through a shot: “Think of something else!”  I also shared with The Boy that Poppy always thinks of Mickey Mouse when he got his shots (or gets blood drawn), and so I usually think of Mickey Mouse, too!

The Boy was anxious as we waited for the nurse, but I reminded him to just think of something else, like Sonic or Steam Boat Willie, and it would be over so quick he wouldn’t believe it.  He ended up getting two pokes, one in each arm, but he squeezed his eyes shut, thought of something else, and looked so brave and adult, I almost got teary.

Afterwards, we went and got ice cream (even though it’s only in the 40s), and stopped at our favorite little toy shop and picked up a small airplane he had had his eye on.  Even with the pokes, it was a Fun Friday.  And I was so proud of my little man (and so geeked my dad’s advice has stood the test of time)!

So Much Fun the Second Time Around

I’ve written before about what Pinterest has done for (or is it to?) brides, and I am still in awe of how much this one social network has probably changed an entire industry.  I can certainly tell you that I did not have a list of “must have shots” for my photographer at my first wedding, and I didn’t give much thought to the gifts for the bridal party (did I even give gifts?  I’m sure I did, but I don’t remember…).  And while it can be fun looking there for inspiration and ideas for my own second-time shindig, it’s a bit like watching one of the Housewives series… I gawk because I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that people actually live that way, and care so much about what other people think.

Of course I want my loved ones and friends to enjoy themselves, but this is a (ten minute) ceremony to mark our commitment to each other and to celebrate this hopeful new beginning that is The Man and me.  If the people I invite to share the day with us love us, they will enjoy it just for that simple fact.

Maybe a few of these from Walmart for the "bouquet"?

Maybe a few of these from Walmart for the “bouquet”?

I must say, the second time around is very liberating.  There’s so much you just don’t have to worry about (and so many more options!!).  And maybe it’s not so much the fact that it’s a second wedding, but that it’s a really small, casual affair.  Public Park, Friday afternoon, about ten people, including us, The Boy, and the officiant!  When it’s so small, you don’t need 90% of the stuff you have to worry about for a big wedding, and it’s SO cool.

So, yes, I still get lost on Pinterest for a time, but more often than not, I’m giggling at the posts about how to spend “only” $5K on your wedding, 15 “mandatory” wedding photos, and the 6 “rules” a man must follow to ask a girl to marry him…  Oh brother.

Celebrate and Have a Good Time

For a little over a year, I have been privileged enough to serve on the board of our local chapter of the ARC.  I got to meet regularly with a group of people committed to filling the needs of people of all ages with developmental disabilities in our community.  We have had no executive director, and the board ends up doing incredible amounts of work to make programs and events run without a hitch.  We have hosted run/walks, teen clubs, movie nights, speakers, and workshops, and have provided grants for training and respite to families in need.

The Boy made creative shapes with his tickets while waiting for the tin-can raffle to be done.

The Boy made creative shapes with his tickets while waiting for the tin-can raffle to be done.

Tonight, we celebrated with our annual membership meeting and dinner dance, and it was a great way to end my term as a board member.  The Boy and I got a little dressed up (after we ran to the store to replace the missing clip-on tie that threatened apocolypse a half-hour before the event), and ate and boogied the night away.  The Boy’s favorite part of this is always the tin-can raffle, largely because he wins just about everything he wants to win.  This year was no exception: he put tickets in for three prizes, and walked away with all of them – Lucky Boy!!  And of course, one of them was an “I love cats” mug – too much serendipity there…

My ticket art was much more boring, and I could only make a triangle.  The Boy said, "That's not even equilateral, Mom."

My ticket art was much more boring, and I could only make a triangle. The Boy said, “That’s not even equilateral, Mom.”

My favorite part is watching all of the kids and young adults dancing, laughing, and having a great time with friends.  They sure know how to party!  A few times, I caught a couple of kiddos posturing in the mirrors on the walls of the banquet hall, admiring themselves and how adult and dressed up they were.  If you want to be reminded about what’s really important in life, and have a great time doing it, these guileless and joyful folks are the ones to show you.

Can I Have Another Vacation Please?

Two days back to the routine, and I’m under water.  We had a rough morning, Boy-wise, in part because I had a stressful evening, and failed to make sure he was all set for our morning routine.  Sure enough, the one pair of pants he wanted to wear today got left at dad’s, which resulted in a near-meltdown, resulting in being later than usual to school, and a second near meltdown…  I was toast before we even got to 7:30am.

And stressful things kept popping up at a maddening and unusual rate today.  Now I am finally home, and having to drown out the meowing with my iTunes (his obsession since Christmas has been cats, and even “dressing up” and acting like one)… gradually turning it up every couple of minutes as he gets louder.  Pretty soon I’ll need to put the noise cancelling headphones on…

Here Comes the SunDeep breath, think of positives:

  • I got back on the bike this morning, after being out of my workout routine for about a week and half
  • It’s really difficult to hang on to stress while listening to Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles
  • The near meltdowns of the morning didn’t bleed into The Boy’s school day
  • Tortellini soup for dinner tonight