Savoring Beautiful Moments

One of the easiest ways I have found to de-stress is to store up memories of beautiful moments, and pull them out in times of need.  Bec over at Snagglebox talks about it here.  My memory is for crap, but for some reason, when I am enjoying a moment, I have the ability to stop, tell myself to remember it, and retrieve it later.

One of those moments occurred on my recent vacation down south.  The Man and I went on a day trip, and stopped at a favorite spot, a large garden (which is actually acres of green stuff, and a favorite location for weddings because they are so beautiful).  Near the large pond (home to a few swans), there are trellis-covered walkways, and as we walked directly under one, I suddenly smelled an intensely beautiful bloom.  Seeking the source, I discovered they were directly above me, and I lingered a moment to breathe in the lovely scent, and of course, snap a photo.

Lovely Mystery Flower

Does anyone know the name of it?

Time for High Gear: We Really Are Moving

We have 10 weeks to go before the big move, and it feels like we’re out of time.  We have prepped The Boy, and he has shown increasing acceptance, although he still talks about cloning himself, so that various copies can attend all the middle schools in our area, and one can even play video games all day and visit his current ASD teacher after school.  I don’t disabuse him of these fanciful notions, choosing instead to concentrate on the realistic, and I am getting a strong urge to kick it up a notch with this approach.  I picked The Boy up from his dad today, and began talking about the changes to come, reminding him of everything we had talked about with the moving process.  At first, all seemed OK, and then he began to fret about last spring break.

Labyrinth of MemoryPart of his autism includes never forgetting things that have upset him, which are usually times he has missed school for various reasons.  Luckily he does not get ill often, but there have been times over the years when he has either had to stay home from school or be picked up due to illness (I learned early on never to make appointments for the doctor or dentist that interfered with school, because I would never hear the end of it).  Last spring break, I had to make an agonizing decision about pulling The Boy out of school for a week so that I could have a vacation.  Our breaks did not coincide, and not pulling him out meant I would get no break at all.  It may sound selfish, but I am firmly in the camp that believes that if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy, and therefore I decided to pull him out.  I also chose not to tell him that he would be missing school.  Honesty is usually the best policy, but if you don’t have to step in manure, than why would you choose to?  Unfortunately, a parapro let it slip a few days before that he would, indeed, be missing school, and that was just about the worst thing that could happen.  It was as close to the end of the world as it could get for The Boy, and on top of it all, I had “lied” to him.

Needless to say, with the memory he has, especially for tragic events, this has come back to haunt us a time or two, as it did today.  The Boy was in tears about something that had happened a year ago, and it is one of those things about autism I have a hard time wrapping my brain around.

We talked about how it was in the past, couldn’t be changed, and how we had to move on from that.  I promised it would never happen again, and he launched into his next set of fears, having to give away all of his toys, because he is “skipping middle and high school, and going to college”, like Andy from Toy Story 3.  We have talked about how we will be purging some toys before the move, and this is how he interprets it.  So we talked about part of growing up is outgrowing things like baby toys and baby clothes, and that once you learn what those toys have to teach you, they are much more suited to younger children.  I reassured him we weren’t throwing toys away (a constant fear, again, thanks to Toy Story 3), but donating them so that 3rd graders could play with his 3rd grade toys, and so on.  This idea of outgrowing clothes and toys seemed to make more sense to him, and he quieted, thinking about everything I had said.  After a while, his tears turned to smiles, and we were back on track.

Visitation Means He’s Supposed to Visit You…

On the Road AgainI just spoke with the ex about spring break plans.  He is supposed to have The Boy for the week, and I just never know what’s up, it seems, until the last minute.  I texted him the other night, asking him if he was planning on having The Boy for the week, and he said he was.  We spoke this evening, and I’ve noticed that recently, he has been trying to do some Jedi mind-meld deal like tonight when he said, “So we’re going to do Saturday to Saturday again?”

We have never, ever done Saturday to Saturday, but I think he thinks that if he says it that way, I will go, “Yeah!  That sounds good!”

Does he not remember that we were married for ten years, and never once was I ditzy enough to fall for that kind of crap, and in the almost five years since the divorce, never once have I been inclined to do anything but tell him how it’s going to be?  Because realistically, and according to our court documents, his visitation starts the evening of the last day of school for The Boy (Thursday) and runs through the day before we return (Sunday).  And I am not inclined to give him an inch, especially when he has the track record he does.

I explained my plans, and since he knows that I am still doing him a huge favor by meeting him (or his parents, whoever comes to pick up The Boy) about three hours from home (saving him 6 hours in one trip), he agreed.  At least for now.  He could always call the night before and cancel the whole thing.  If that happens, no worries.  The Boy and I are used to it by now.

Peace of Mind

peacefulOne of the things that I have been most nervous about the move, OK, more like THE ONE THING that has given me a good bit of anxiety is the program for The Boy in the state/county/school where we will be.  You just never know what you are walking into, even with a diagnosis and an IEP in hand.  You may remember that I had spoken with someone who worked in a county a good bit away from where we were who said they didn’t have a resource room to speak of, and didn’t have any aides in the rooms with the kids.  Considering that The Boy spends a good amount in his resource room, I got a bit panicky about what I was going to be subjecting him to.

I had put out some feelers through some contacts with the state Autism Society, and hadn’t really been able to connect with anyone, until this weekend.  I finally got in contact with some parents who run the local chapter, and was able to speak on the phone with one lady who was able to give me some insight, at least into her experience.  She had also moved into the area a year and a half ago, and has a son that is very close in age to The Boy.  She was able to allay my fears a bit, and let me know about how much their little chapter has been accomplishing.  Not only was I relieved, but I also began to get a little excited.  Here is a group that is actually making positive change in the community for kids on the spectrum, and providing opportunities, and even a summer day camp!  YES!  Exactly what I was hoping for.

Not to mention that this group is a way for us to meet people like us, which will be one of the most difficult parts of the transition for both The Boy and I, making new friends.  I often complain about talking to people on the phone, but this time, I am sooo glad I did.

A Different IKEA Effect on Singlemomdom

 

I can remember living in the same house the three of us lived in, only after the divorce, and the toilet seat broke.  Having a broken toilet seat is not just something you can live with, so I needed to solve the problem for myself, especially with an octogenarian landlord.  I went and purchased a new seat, and installed it myself, and for the first time, I realized that I really could do this being single thing.

 

After dividing up our assets, I needed some new furniture.  At the very least, I needed new things to look at if I had to stay in the same house.  My parents had come up to stay for a month or so, to help me purchase a car and get things settled before the school year started.  Enter IKEA.  I think I spent $800 in one day.  I had never, ever spent that much money in one place at one time, ever in my life.  But as some of you may know, $800 goes a long way at IKEA.

 

And as you may also know, IKEA purchases are almost always un-assembled, meaning you have to put them together.  It was a project, but with my parents’ help, we got it done, and it really started to feel like a different place, with my personal touches (including a duvet cover with flowers on it, just because I could).

 

And since that time, I have made more purchases, always putting it all together myself.  And every time it reminds me of how strong I have become, how capable, and how independent one can be, even when they don’t know it.  IKEA was good therapy for this single mom, and I suspect for many others out there.  If you are struggling with the emotions of a divorce, get yourself to an IKEA store, bring home a project, build it yourself, and give yourself a little reminder that yes, indeed, you can do this.

 

English: Logo of Ikea.

For the record, this post was inspired by this story on NPR, and also for the record, not all IKEA furniture is pressboard junk.

 

Essential Non-Apps for the Special Needs Parent

Non-Apps?  What?

I like to think of them as the things you do with your kids, away from technology, that will make your life easier (and more fun).  Wouldn’t that be the definition of a non-app?

I recently wrote about an A-ha moment when expressing to The Boy how miserable meltdowns made the rest of us feel helped him to see that being cooperative made the people he loves happy, which is his greatest desire.  If he didn’t have that connection with me, he wouldn’t care. Here are some things that we do that help me connect with my child, which in the long run is my best defense against meltdowns, attitude, whining, etc.

1.  Take walks together.  My kid isn’t all that athletic.  OK, he isn’t athletic at all.  So to get him to get outside and be active is a tough thing when there isn’t a pool or the ocean nearby.  We take a walk almost daily, depending on the weather.  It is usually just a block or two, but it is free from distraction and we have some good talks about the big and the little things.

2.  We cuddle, and smush each other.  My son is 10, and some may think “too old” for this, but he benefits from the deep pressure, and it helps us connect.  He “wres-tles” (pronouncing the “t”) with The Man, which is way more manly, but has the same benefits.  I told him I had to “tackle” the kitchen today, and he said, “Go for the legs!”

3.  Read together.  Every year, we have a reading log sent home, and I am sure the expectation is that The Boy reads to me, but I often read to him.  He is a good reader.  He gets practice all day long at school, and I want to model good, natural reading to him, plus it’s a treat.  He can lay there listening (hopefully getting sleepy), and absorb common inflection and pacing while cuddling next to me.

4.  Being silly together.  I am lucky.  The Boy has an incredible sense of humor.  He loves jokes and word games.  Having private jokes together is another way to connect.

5.  Encouraging his talents.  Some obsessions are a little hard to deal with (like the summer he had to wear the same green shirt every day).  But as he has gotten older, most of his obsessions have become a little more useful.  Writing comics, knowing about every version of Windows that has ever come out, and being able to identify car makes and models even at night are easier to encourage; By not trying to constantly steer him away from the things he loves, I am validating that they have worth and value, and could lead to greater things.

What do you do to connect with your child?  Have you seen the benefits?  Tell us about it.