March 29, 2006
and still, I have no real point
Today I read this review of designer Dana Buchman’s book about raising her daughter, Charlotte (who has been diagnosed with a host of learning differences), and despite the fact that I have picked the book up on at least two occasions and not been able to get past page five, the review had me weeping.
Or maybe it wasn’t the book. Maybe it was Henry’s first day of speech therapy. Or Charlie’s playdate. Or the rain. Who can tell?
Speech therapy was . . . fine. Yes, fine! It was FINE! No, it was really stressful and overwhelming, but that seems to be the norm here these days. Henry didn’t cry, although he did talk the ENTIRE way there about how he was making a “plan” to go back to school next Wednesday. And as we were leaving, the speech path said, “I’ll see you next week, Henry!”
And he held his hand out toward her and said, “Yes! Unless you don’t!”
Ha ha, so not funny.
The speech path worked with Henry for half an hour, while I read an article about how important it is for women to schedule “me time” in order to avoid things like heart attacks and diabetes and the fat that gets left around your waist, and then it was my turn to “dialogue” with the speech path (her word, not mine). And apparently, “me time” is not on her schedule, at least in reference to ME and my ACTUAL time.
We had a lovely talk about social stories, which, she pointed out, are most often discussed in connection with autism, “but don’t let that put you off!” she said cheerfully. And I wanted to say, no, no, don’t worry, I am FULLY AWARE that the boy ain’t right! Then she asked what, specifically, Henry was having “the most trouble with,” socially-speaking, so that we could tailor his social stories to things he needs help with.
So I told her about him being sent home from school early on Monday, about how he was yelling out answers and jumping around and pushing the other kids. About how, when he and Charlie play together, he ALWAYS (and yes, I mean that in ALL CAPS) has to control the play, the narrative. About how when he tells a story or explains a game he can’t get to the actual STORY or the rules of the game but will go on and on and ON for oh, say, TWENTY OR THIRTY MINUTES about what exactly we’re going to DO with the football. Instead of just THROWING THE DAMN FOOTBALL.
And I watched her eyes get bigger and bigger. Because today I scared the holy living hell out of our speech pathologist.
I am not proud of this. (Well, yes, maybe I am, a little, in a weird way. Because I’m competitive that way. And because, at some level, it confirms that I am NOT MAKING THIS ALL UP. Just exaggerating it, for comic effect, you know.)
But back to “me time”–my homework, before next week’s meeting with the speech path, is to start writing social stories, for Henry to use to practice his social skills. After I write them, I will need to read them with him, daily, before and after school, before soccer practice and playdates and dinner in a restaurant. They need to be illustrated and printed up and LAMINATED (otherwise they are too flimsy and will fall apart). I need to focus on specifics and use repetitive language. I cannot be funny; I cannot talk about how much Mommy needs a drink. They need to have a POINT, for god’s sake.
I really don’t think I can do this.
I have moments–lots of them, whole days of them–where I doubt if I have what it takes to be Henry’s mommy. Today was absolutely one of those days. Because as I listened to this very nice, and doubtless VERY qualified speech path talk about how these stories would work and how we would incorporate them into our daily routine, all I could think was, OH MY GOD when am I going to DO THIS?
Here is what I do NOW, before the Writing of the Social Stories, to get some “me time:” I get up at five am to read. I write late at night. I cram a whole day’s worth of “me time” into an hour or two on the weekend, right after I pay all the bills and load the laundry and fill out whatever evaluations or forms have to be filled out for whatever doctor we’re going to see this week. I meet my husband at the door, after HIS long long day, and say, “The boys have had dinner and a bath. There is a frozen pizza in the oven. I AM LEAVING. If you are lucky, I will come back” (yes, I have said that! Last night, in fact!).
It’s not a good system.
This morning, because I couldn’t take Charlie with me to the speech path, I mooched off my friend Christa, who is an attorney and works two days a week. I left Charlie at her house, first with her (while she got ready to go to work, in a suit that made me want to cry it was so pretty) and then with her sitter. Charlie had a fabulous two-hour playdate with her daughter, Cate–apparently they spent most of the time in a tent in her room, tending to a stuffed leopard who had eaten some balls and some money. Or so Charlie told me.
When I picked Charlie up, Cate came downstairs and solemnly announced, “Charlie, I need to give you a kiss.” And they had a nice hug and kiss. I was nearly killed by the cuteness.
Tonight Cate came to our house to play, while Christa and I went to a coach’s clinic at the soccer fields. Wade said that they played together and they played apart and everyone was very nice and peaceful and polite. And at the soccer clinic I watched Henry not stand in the line and not listen and not play like the other kids and I watched him watch his reflection in my sunglasses when I was trying to talk to him and then in the parking lot someone pulled out behind me while I was talking to Wade on my cell phone and I started yelling at HIM, at Wade. And it made me think.
I need some “me time.” But I don’t have any idea what to give up to get it.
Posted by Susan @ 10:02 pm • Uncategorized
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March 29th, 2006 at 11:45 pm, Busy Mom Says:
I swear, I think it’s something in the air lately. I wish I had a solution for you.
March 30th, 2006 at 2:06 am, Kathryn Says:
I’m sorry things are so tough for you. I really feel for you. It just sounds so tiring (as I get in my “me time” at 2:04 am). I wish I could do something for you.
March 30th, 2006 at 6:33 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
Can you get a sitter for even, like, one HALF day week? That’s what I finally had to break down and do, because I could literally run myself to death with the twins. Especially at a playground. And I felt guilty about the sitter until I read a recent study that proves that if Mom is depressed, she is very likely to trip off the depression trigger in her kids. And with the history of mental illness in my family, that’s not a risk I can take. Plus, my pedicure looks wonderful.
Hang in there with the speech therapist, and just do what you CAN. When I was working, if my patients got overwhelmed with the ‘homework’ I had to give them, I would explain how to make every day activites (that you’re already doing)turn into therapy.
BTW, my husband is hearing impaired to the point that he should sign instead of talk/read lips. People with les hearing loss than he has have to use sign. But he talks with only a slight impediment, and reads lips to the point that I forget he has trouble hearing. AND he made it through med school, reading lips in those huge lecture halls. The only way he was able to do this was by hooking up with a kick-ass speech therapist. Speech therapists ROCK with anything from autism to mispronunciation. I’m so glad you’re doing this!
March 30th, 2006 at 7:18 am, Arwen Says:
Get part time help or lose your sanity… doesn’t really seem like there’s a choice there. We are going through similar stuff too and it is a hard choice to make (the guilt, the pride, the stranger coming into your home) BUT it’s ultimately about what’s best for the kids and you being batty isn’t good for the kids. or is it?
March 30th, 2006 at 7:49 am, Kara Says:
good grief! i’m tired just reading about all of that. you know, sending Charlie to preschool for a few more days/ hours does NOT make you a bad mother. you have a lot going on and i bet he really loves school…
March 30th, 2006 at 7:51 am, KatieK Says:
It’s time to go within. You don’t have the chunk of hours alone you need to regenerate, so what you are going to have to do is create an oasis in your mind, carve out a space in there just for yourself through meditation, deep breathing and something called “mindfulness.” Create this space just for yourself. Sounds hoakey, but you can keep your sanity in there and it keeps quite nicely. Hang in there. I’m rooting for you from way over here on the other side of the earth
Kate
March 30th, 2006 at 8:28 am, Heather Says:
No answers, just sympathy from me. My cousin is autistic, and he is TEN years old and my aunt just now has some time for herself. Think you can make it that long?
I have some aspergers in my family too (from very mild to not so mild). It’s tough.
Maybe you should sign up for a class that costs money. I have always found that if I pay ahead of time for yoga, I always go because I don’t want to waste the money. But if I pay class by class, I let other things take priority and don’t go. Just a thought.
March 30th, 2006 at 9:18 am, Laura Says:
I don’t think I can say anything other than what is being said here. But I had a Henry and a Charlie at the same time, so I understand your exhaustion. But it will get better, really. Just do what you can for yourself, when you can.
March 30th, 2006 at 10:16 am, Amber Says:
I’m worn out just reading that! Finding time for you is important- it’s just so dang hard!!
March 30th, 2006 at 10:23 am, Suburban Turmoil Says:
Oh man. This too shall pass.
And screw the lamination of the social stories. That’s ridiculous. Do what you can and don’t feel guilty about what you can’t get to. You’re a great mom- don’t let counselors define your role because so much of the time, their expert advice doesn’t work anyway.
March 30th, 2006 at 11:19 am, Felicity Says:
Hi Susan,
Jesus I swear I can’t even breathe reading about this and I would have been trying to make the speech therapist;s eyes pop too and can I do your books for you? I would love to do it and I’m sure we could work it out and I don’t want any money, just the chance to help & your undying affection. email me, ‘k?
March 30th, 2006 at 1:22 pm, MJ Says:
Okay, I have 3 pieces of very practical advice.
1. Drink copious quantities of alcoholic beverages. (No, it won’t make things easier but you won’t care.)
2. Run away. (Again, the problems will still be there you just won’t be.)
3. Clone yourself.
I know, I know. Number 3 is a bit tricky what with they’ve only managed to clone sheep so far.
Seriously, like everyone else I’m exhausted and humbled just reading about your life. You’re doing such an amazing job. I’d say: hire a regular sitter, who comes once or twice a week, and try (notice I typed try) to use that time for only you. Easier said than done, I realize.
Right now I better run as my “me time” ends in 40 minutes and I’ve only managed to do grocery shopping (and read your blog!).
March 30th, 2006 at 2:42 pm, Mary P. Says:
Is there a community college in your city? We have different terms for our institutions, I think for you it’s a “junior college”, but I could be wrong. You know, the place that trains for trades more than professions.
If there is, perhaps you could hire a student in an ECE course (or something related - or, heck, maybe auto mechanics, if Henry would like it!) to play with the boys for three hours a week or so - three hours which you are NOT to fill doing errands!
The student would be older than a high school student, eager for some work experience, and available during the days.
I’ve done this with the daycare from time to time, and it’s been a real sanity-saver.
March 30th, 2006 at 5:10 pm, Homestead Says:
What Mary P. said. When I was in college we had “host” families if we were from out-of-town. My host mama traded me cash & pizza to take her son out in the jogger stroller for about 3 hours ever week. I jogged/walked and called it exercise, fed him sticky treats at the park for about an hour and then walked home. That mama used me to network and get all of my sane and reliable friends hooked up with all her mama friends so everyone got pizza and happiness.
March 30th, 2006 at 5:30 pm, Candace Says:
My God, the resemblance of Henry to Christopher just astounds me sometimes.
We had to have another talk the other day about not spending so much time setting up *insert name of imaginative play game here* so he would actually have time to play said game. And the pushing and the jumping. Yeah, I’ve been through all that, too.
Hang in there. I’m pretty sure that things will get better for you the way they got better for us.
March 30th, 2006 at 8:55 pm, Kristen Says:
Your description of Henry’s behavior and the therapist’s response has me a little freaked. Bryce does all of that; you know how I’m always calling him high maintenance and intense? That’s what I’m referring to. And how I’ve said I haven’t sought out a diagnosis of anything for him yet? I’m re-thinking that.
I truly do not know how to suggest a me time solution for you. But I AM going to buy you a glass of wine the next time I’m in OKC.
April 1st, 2006 at 8:25 pm, marti Says:
Susan. I have been where you are, precisely where you are, but without a 2nd child. If I had had Charlie, I think I would have been even more depressed about looking to the future because Charlie is so very typical. Please do not despair. I know what you are saying about therapy, me time, the frustration with looking at Henry and seeing the “tricky” stuff. I know, I know, and I know. My best advice is not to get a sitter. It is to get into some serious RDI therapy with Henry … social stories are FANTASTIC for isolating some things (we used one for why Child should use a kleenex and not wipe the gross boogers on his sleeve). RDIconnect.com … get the book about the program, then the activity book. Yes, it is more work, but it is the BEST thing out there for really, really integrating the social awareness and ability to connect in experience sharing ways with others that our little ones do not have hard-wired into their brains. Call me if you want more info. And, call me if you need someone to talk with who has been PRECISELY where you are.
And, please have hope. You are amazing and smart and will pull off your right arm for Henry. Time gets tight, and we get tired, but you are amazing and he will do so well BECAUSE OF YOU.
April 3rd, 2006 at 4:56 pm, Mary Tsao Says:
You’re an amazing mother! I understand completely the idea of “me” time and even though I do have somebody babysitting my kids two days a week, it still doesn’t seem to be enough and that makes me sad.
You were right in that post your wrote about the mommy wars; parenting is the hard part. It’s only every other day that I feel like I’m doing this job even half as well as I’ve done my previous 9-5 jobs.
I need my own social story, laminated and illustrated. One that explains how I’m supposed to control my temper and mother two small children with kindness and a quiet (inside) voice.
Hope you get your me time soon, I really do. You deserve it.