Category Archives: Remarried Momdom

Another “Doh!” Moment

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I don’t know if any other parents of special needs kids have “Doh!” moments, but I do on a regular basis. I don’t know if I’m just not paying attention, or what, but often something that has been staring at me in the face for awhile finally dawns on me, and I feel particularly dense.

Since The Boy was a toddler, we realized he has some sensory issues. In facet, I was researching and learning about sensory processing disorder before I even thought autism was a possibility. Many kids are hyper-sensitive to sensory stimulation – too much noise, too much touch, too much everything. But The Boy was just the opposite. He loved to be crushed in great big hugs, and steamrolled, and tickled, and be in the water for great lengths of time. He needed more sensory input to regulate himself. As he got older, a few variations were thrown in, like aversion to fire drills and loud noises in general, which would be classified as hypersensitive, while still maintaining hypo-sensitivity to other sensations.

pexels-photoFast forward to The Man entering our lives, and me noticing he doesn’t like to hold hands much. Or too much touching in general. Of course, there are times and places… ahem, but in general, if my legs are on his lap too long, he’ll have to get up and move, or if we do hold hands, it will not last longer than 20 seconds. I’ll admit it’s been a little tough for a touchy-feely girl like me, who was raised on hugging and cuddling, and all of that. It wasn’t until last night when I kissed him on his forehead and he almost flinched that the tumblers fell into place. He is probably affected by SPD, on the hypersensitive end.

He and I both have always suspected he may have ADHD – always on the go, doesn’t like to sit and relax, periods of hyper-focus (doesn’t like to be interrupted), etc. and sensory processing disorder is much more likely to be co-morbid with something else like ADHD or autism then as a stand-alone issue.

I’m not trying to diagnose him, believe me. But it helps me understand his responses without being hurt by them, and changes my perspective a bit, which can only help. And yet again, my experiences in life seem to be acutely tailored to the challenges I face. I’m just glad my brain can work this stuff out, even if it isn’t always too quick on the uptake.

 

Evolution of a Stepdad

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The Man and I have been married for almost three years, and together for about six and a half. He’s been involved in The Boy’s life since he was nine years old. As I’ve mentioned before, he was the one to teach him how to ride a bike, he’s taught him to surf, how to operate the riding lawnmower, and countless other life lessons (including using the plunger the other night!). The ex was around until The Boy was six and a half. Suffice it to say that The Man has been more of a dad to The Boy in his memory.

When we first married, The Man was quick to classify his relationship to The Boy. “That’s my stepson,” he’d say when we were introduced to someone new. It never hurt me or The Boy to be introduced in this way, but it was something I noticed. You see, The Man has a grown daughter he doesn’t see much. And she was very young when he and her mom split up. Then she moved six hours away, but he made the effort to be in her life, made the drive to see her every other weekend, took her on trips, chaperoned her school trip to Washington DC, brought her to the beach in the summer, paid for much of her college and her car, and actually paid more than what he was asked in child support. He sees the other side of the coin, and always respected the fact that the ex was and is The Boy’s dad. He never wanted to replace him.

But over the years, that line has softened. He has grown protective of our boy. He is more comfortable voicing his opinions on his upbringing (while respecting the fact that I have the final say). The two of them have begun to have their own private jokes and rituals. And he often refers to him as “our son,” in casual conversation with others who may not know the whole situation. And I notice. ❤

like riding a bike

Up and Running

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If you’ve followed the blog, you know that we are building a house primarily so that The Boy can attend high school with the friends he’s made in middle school. Since his program was dissolved, he would have to attend a high school with strangers if we did nothing. Coincidentally, building a house basically on his own has been a dream of The Man’s forever. He has done enough reno to understand how houses are put together, and he has enough contacts in the industry to get licensed professionals who are also friends to do the things he can’t do (like wire and plumb the house).

Well, it’s been a tough fall, dealing with a less-than-scrupulous contractor who cleared a quarter of our acre-sized lot and charged us almost $15,000. If you have no previous experience, this is quite an exorbitant sum for that amount of work, and the guy used to be a friend! We have agreed upon a settlement  (in other words, we won that argument), and have been able to move forward with the help of some fantastic weather. We may even have roof trusses up by the end of the day tomorrow.

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The Boy and I visited the lot yesterday evening to check it out, and he was delighted to see where his room and bathroom would be, even if he wishes it were upstairs like his friend’s room is at his house (ours will be a ranch).

The Man is working hard, sleeping hard, and probably overdoing it right now, but he is single-minded when there is a goal within reach. He hopes to have us in by the 4th of July. The Boy and I are excited, even though I see the bills on the other side. It really will be a dream come true for us.

And to top it off, when we visited the lot this weekend to make The Man take a break from installing 75 floor joists by himself, we suggested The Boy take a walk around the corner down to the end of the cul-de-sac. When he returned, he said that he saw one of his friends-who-are-girls. I thought he wasn’t quite telling the truth, but not two minutes later, a red minivan came around the corner, with a young teenaged girl pulling herself up to sit on the windowsill of the passenger side to say, “Hey!” and wave to The Boy. We suspect she may live a few doors down.

All kinds of reasons to be excited. 😉

Risk

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I’m not going to get into the habit of writing about work, but I wanted to let you know that my new situation is really, really good. And there’s a reason I’m sharing this with you today.

My old job, the one that “brought me to my knees” was a decent paying job, especially for our area. And it took me five months to get it. So for a year and half, I was miserable, thinking I couldn’t leave because I really had it pretty good, except for the screaming and yelling, the unreasonable demands, the constant checking up on the weekends… What does that sound like to you? An abusive relationship? Because it was. I saw it in all of the other people I worked with, too. “It’s not bad all the time,” or “It’s much better when he’s not in the office/ in the winter/ when he’s in a good mood,” or “There’s just nothing else out there.” Scary stuff, right there.

In my big picture way of looking at things, I see a parallel. This is another time in my life where I took a risk and said enough was enough. Life is too short to be so miserable everyday. And it wasn’t pretty. It was hard to be a single mom. And it was hard working retail for minimum wage. I did a lot of soul-searching, and it was painful. There were times in both cases where I thought, “Is this it? Is this all there is?” But there were benefits to both, too. At least I was free from a toxic relationship. At least I could do things the way I wanted to. At least I had an opportunity to learn a great deal. (And I ended up loving being a single mom, except for being lonely).

And then, something wonderful happens that changes your life around. And you realize your instincts were right. There are really, really good men out there who know how to treat others. And there are really, really good jobs out there where you actually get a lunch break with a side of respect. My advice is this: trust your instincts, and take that risk. It may not be sunshine and lollipops immediately, but life is too short to miserable. You deserve more.

In the midst of winter, I found that there was, within me, and invincible summer.

Rigidity Again, but Better

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A few weeks ago, I wrote about having my own sort of meltdown when we had a two-hour delay for school for no apparent reason. I resolved at that time not to get stuck again, and the next time this happened, I would stick to my normal routine of getting up at 6am to get myself ready.

It happened again yesterday morning, and I think the fact that the delay was utterly ridiculous added fuel to my fire. But that is another blog post… I did what I had resolved to do, and woke up at 6am, got myself ready. I still had a little bit of a time crunch – I’m really not sure how – but the process of getting everyone ready was much smoother.

BETTERMORNINGSAt one point, I was putting together The Boy’s lunch, and The Man stood in the kitchen, a little warily, I suppose, and asked if there was anything he could do. I told him no. And I realized I needed to have a yes answer to that question. I need to allow him to help me when it gets down to it. I was a single mom for so long that I get into that mode sometimes, that I-am-fierce-I-can-do-it-all-on-my-own-and-no-one-can-stop-me mode. But I’m not all on my own. And it’s OK to ask for help. It might take a little training for everyone involved, but it would be better for everyone involved if everything didn’t fall on me in the morning.

And another big part of that is that The Boy can do some, too. So much of what I do for him is just routine left over from when he was eight years old. Now he is fourteen, and much more capable of handling responsibilities. I need to step back and let him.

So, I guess it’s time for a morning training plan. I’ll get that on my list of things to do, and I’ll get back to you and let you know how it goes. 😉

A Couple Ways to save for next Christmas

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This year, we didn’t have a whole lotta extra funds for gifts, and I thought I’d let you in on a secret – I got a couple of gifts for free this year.

How?

  Two apps. The first is the Walmart Savings Catcher. If you go to Walmart with any regularity, there’s no reason not to use this app. It is quite simple: You scan your receipt when you’re done shopping. If the app finds that a competitor has a cheaper price on pretty much anything on your receipt, it will credit you with the difference. Most of the time, it’s 50 cents on the whole bill, but every once in awhile, it’ll be a couple of bucks. And over a year, that adds up. You can redeem for a gift certificate whenever you’re ready, or use it towards your grocery bill or anything you buy in the store. Easy peasy.

The second is Shopkick. This one works in various stores, and will notify you when you are near a participating store if you let it. The stores I get credit for are mostly Walmart and Best Buy (because we do not have many of the others in our area), but there are many more stores for which you can get credit, so you should check it out. Again, you get “kicks” just for visiting the store sometimes, and if you have some time to kill, you can get kicks for scanning certain items. When you are ready (and have enough kicks to be eligible), you can redeem them for gift cards, movie tickets, gasoline… lots of different things! Some are a pretty good deal, others are not, but you’re getting something for doing something you would do anyway, so in my book, anything is a good deal. I actually got two gifts (one from restaurant.com for $100, and one from GameStop for $25) from this app this year, but I think I’ve been accumulating kicks for longer than I’ve been using the Walmart app.

In any case, I got three free gifts for zero dollars, and it helped a bunch. If you’re the type to plan ahead, check out these apps now, and you just might be able to save some cash next year. (I’m not affiliated with either of these apps, just glad I was able to save by using them.)

The Angry Ex, 8 Years Later

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numbers-time-watch-whiteIt’s been just about eight years since The Boy’s dad walked out and I filed for divorce. It’s been so long since The Boy’s dad lived with him, I wonder just how much he remembers from those years. He was only six, after all, when his dad first decided to live downstairs, and then decided to move four states away.

For a time, we were both angry. Then I lost interest, and he remained angry. But even if time doesn’t heal all wounds, it does mellow you out, a bit. I’m not going to say he still doesn’t have flashes of angry – it was only a couple of years ago that he cancelled the night before a visitation because he suddenly didn’t like our drop-off arrangements. And I wonder what will happen this spring when he realizes I really mean it that The Boy will not be flying by himself. I saw a flash of the old fire in his eyes when I told him that at drop-off a few weeks ago.

The truth is, probably nothing will happen. He may get annoyed, he may even get angry. But he probably won’t shout at me on the phone or send me a nasty text – both of which he loved to employ in previous years. Maybe he has reached a stage where he is indifferent, as well.

In any case, most of our dealings are what you could call “cordial”. Of course I wish he would make more of an effort with his son, but I realized a long time ago that I have no control over that, and it isn’t worth my energy. As long as it stays that way, “cordial” is just fine by me.

BuJo and ASD

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I mentioned recently that I have begun bullet journaling, and it has helped me put one foot in front of the other to get past some pretty dark, helpless feelings this fall. I also belong to a fantastic facebook group with over 14,000 members who also bullet journal, and it has connected me to people across the globe. One of those fabulous ladies is an autism mom in the UK who shared that her son was helping to set the table, and began by making a list of “supplies” he would need – five plates, five forks, etc. – on his iPad. Then, he gathered his materials and put them in the appropriate spots on the table (while shouting loudly what each was). She remarked to him about his list. “Why did you make a list?” He said, “You remember everything, Mom, and you make lists in your journal all day long.”

This story got me to thinking. The reason many of us bullet journal is because it can get overwhelming relying on our brains to remember everything. I, personally, am the type to need to get things on paper, because if I don’t, I will remind myself to do that one thing at least six times in one day – how exhausting, and how almost perseverative (is that a word? it is now…)… Overwhelmed… Perseverating… Indeed, one of the most relied upon strategies for coping with autism is the social story (a list of sorts to describe what will happen), and another is “first, then” (First we will do some homework, then we will have some m&m’s).  Maybe, just maybe some kiddos, young adults, and adults on the spectrum would benefit from bullet journaling.

I may try this with The Boy. But my primary purpose with this post is to share an idea, a connection, a possibility. This may be a strategy that could help you or someone you know. Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

BuJo

The Caretakers

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My dad had a stroke in the wee hours of New Year’s Day, and thankfully, as mom put it, I didn’t have to hop on a plane with an infant this time. It was still a series of trying, worrying days. Dad has recovered quite well, but is definitely requiring more care than before.

Poppy and The Boy

This time, I stepped up to make some phone calls and communicate with family. Invariably, it was a woman on the other end of the phone, as we are caretakers by nature. But for each generation, for each branch of a family, it tends to fall on one person’s shoulders. I spoke to my cousin, and my aunt, and before them it would have been my Aunt Mickey, and my Great Aunt Rosie. There are those in whose arms the rest of us seek comfort and care.

I am already a caretaker, and have been since the minute my son was born. I became an even stronger one the day he was diagnosed with autism. I knew when I married a man 17 years my senior that someday I would be his caretaker, and being an only child, I know that I will be taking that role with both of my parents, as well. This is not being a martyr, this is not being a nurse – I’ve already warned all and sundry that I will not do diapers again. I’ve done my time. This is being a steward for the care of others when they are not very able to do it for themselves, and I take this transitioning role on with open arms, a full heart, and a laser-sharp mind, honed by many years already dealing with hospitals, therapists, and educators.

There’s no one more qualified, ready, and willing.

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Are you a caretaker? What insights and advice can you share in the comments?

At His Dad’s

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The Boy is at his dad’s after a semi-successful hand-off this past Sunday. The ex was only an hour and half late, and The Man and I only got into one argument about directions…

He seems to be happy enough, which is about all I can ask for. I will tell you that with the rocky patches we’ve had lately, I am still holding my breath. I was pretty anxious about handing him off this time, and am missing him quite a bit.

Once a year is tough. Of course the ex is already making promises about Spring Break, but we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it. For now, The Man and I are having a quiet week to ourselves.

I hope you are enjoying any holidays you may be celebrating, and your families most of all. All will be right again in our world in a few days.