Paying attention to the little things

Sometimes pictures are capable of manipulating the memory into what we wish the whole moment felt like.

In reality, this was only a mere 3 seconds in time. Before and after the picture they were screaming, struggling and beating each other up. It was close to a bloody mess on my couch. Suddenly they both stopped and relaxed. Odin spaced off and Persephone was listening to a commercial on tv that had music in it. (music always calms her)

For that brief moment, they looked so serene and loving. I'm glad I was able to capture it, even if it only lasted a minute.

After all, aren't some of life's greatest things limited in time? Rainbows, orgasms, that first bite of a delicious meal, the smell of a newborn baby, true new car smell, your first crush, and a spotless house with five kids..

Today I'm going to try very hard to notice the little things. Cute photo op's with the kids, when my husband makes that attempt to show me love, when Piper tries to tell me about her day at school and when Odin snuggles in my neck and whispers over and over,
"Mama?"
"What buddy?"
"I love you."
"I love you too buddy."
"I love you so much Mama."
"I love you so much too buddy."
"You're my best buddy"
"you're my best buddy too"
"Mama?"
"What buddy?"
"I love you Mama."
"I love you too buddy"
No matter how long it goes on, I will remember to cherish those words. Some parents might never hear their autistic child say them, and mine can. And does! So today I will try hard to remember that my children with autism are not trying to annoy me with their continuous statements and rigid sentences. The underlying thought is, I love my mom and i want her to know. How can I not be touched by that?

These pictures are more than cute moments. They are my motivation to be a better mother and a better person.

Sorry, Wrong Box

Rejection and lonliness are overwhelming feelings. For as long as I can remember, I've never quite meant to others, what they've meant to me. Its hard to put into words, but its as if my entire being is a misunderstanding. Every time I find out a friendship isn't as important to the other person, or that it means too much but not in the right way, I'm confused yet again. Dave is in love with me, but now he's not. Roy is dying of cancer, yet rejects my offer to visit. Every time I thought I was in a category it turns out I'm not. Dave was family to me. Yet was secretly in love with me. You cannot unring a bell. I'll never feel the same way about him again. Its ruined. Roy means so much to me. But that chapter of his life is closed.

I feel as if everyone says, "I will love you how I want to love you." and nothing is ever mutual. I'm trying to balance so much and in the end I feel awkward and uneasy. I feel rejected and lonely. I try to stay on top of the depression, but my brain starts to think back and find every instance in my past where this has happened before. Is there something fundamentally wrong with me? Why am I always either being loved too much past the boundary line, or cast aside like a used tissue? Is this how friendship and family is supposed to feel?

It sucks to be honest. Everyone is finally feeling better in the house, and I can't get over this cloud of sadness. My jaw is stuck closed, so I've been on a liquid/soft food diet for weeks. I've lost a bit of weight because of it too. Thats the good part.  The bad part is the pain and stiffness and tension that I have on my face and head all the time. Pain medication and muscle relaxants are all that help me. I have appointments at UNE, I guess they have a TMJ center. I was scheduled for last week but I had strep throat and was completely out of commission. Now that I've had some antibiotics in me I'm feeling much better. The jaw however is not.

I should post this entry before something comes up and it never gets added. I have 5 or so already that are still drafts that won't ever be completed. I had to vent about my feelings today I guess. I feel worthless and lost. So many feelings discarded, switched. I feel manipulated and used. I dunno.. maybe I don't even have a reason to feel that way. All I know is, whenever I get comfortable with people and start to trust them.. they let me down. Whenever I think I'm putting people in the right catagories, at the worst possible moment they say, "Sorry, you put me in the wrong box." No I didn't. I put you where you were supposed to be. Why are you trying to change boxes? Why isn't anyone ever satisfied with what they have?

"Me time"

I've been thinking a lot lately about "me time" and how its changed so much in the past three years. I won't lie and say that I am so self assured, so together and so selfless that I no longer require "me time." The truth is, I would give almost anything to have an hour a week- hell, an hour a month, where I wasn't on the clock. I love my children, and I wouldn't trade my reality for someone elses fantasy even if it were dished out on a silver platter with a sprig of parsley on the side. All I need is some time to reflect. To feel. To go inside my own head, or not. To shower uninterrupted, or even soak in bubbles maybe. To read a book and glean more than one sentence in between screams of someone jumping on someone elses head. To wash my face in the morning and get dressed before my day, as oppossed to a rinse and throwing on something on my way out the door, kids in tow and late as usual.

Perhaps my choices are to blame for my inability to "do it all." Maybe if I had been more mainstream in my parenting. My oldest child was not nearly as demanding or time consuming. She was formula fed and sleep "trained" at 8 months old. By one year she was in a toddler bed and going to sleep on her own. Sure she came out, and I put her right back. I did just what all the books say to do. I cut off my emotions to do the "right" thing for her. When it was all said and done, I walked away with blocks of time that were all for me, uninterrupted showers, bubbles, time to be with myself, and guilt that followed me for years. Would I trade my soul and instincts again, just for that sought after "me time?" No. I wouldn't. The price is just too high.

So how do I get through these years sanely, knowing my parenting choices are whats standing between me and "me time?" When most of your friends and family think you're off your rocker to begin with for even doing half the things you do. Breastfeeding for not only a month, but three years and counting! Tandem nursing her sister and not forcing either to wean. Slinging them instead of putting them down. Attempting my best at Gentle Discipline instead of a swat on the rear for everything. Co-sleeping and encouraging family togetherness instead of actvities with strangers 7 days a week. Add the prospect of Unschooling into the mix, and there you have it! From the outside world I look completly insane. How do I keep those voices at bay? Am I supposed to want "me time" or was that supposed to be tossed out the window as soon as I took the narrow path of attachment parenting? How can you voice your frusteration for being on call 24/7 to friends who made the choice before their children were even born that "Children will NOT keep me down!" You can't. There is just no way to voice it without your choices coming back to slap you in the face. For once I'd just like acknowledgment that what I'm doing is hard. Not sarcastic comments like, "Well thats what yooooou wanted, so you've got to deal with it now." I learned a long time ago that I couldn't vent my breastfeeding frusterations to anyone because they simply didn't understand. "Time to wean!" they'd tell me. Eventually I just shut my mouth. Unless I was willing to submit to mainstream ideas, and throw in the towel- they didn't want to hear me vent or complain. And whining certainly was off limits.

Let's not forget the extreem guilt there is involved with even wanting to have "me time." I self sabotoage any time I might have by doing something that doesn't qualify as for me. Oh! The baby is asleep and the little one is playing quietly! I could read a book, or get dressed, or maybe watch the sun set. Instead I aimlessly wander to the laundry pile and start sorting. Or sweep the floor again. Or maybe one of those things on the list of "have to do's," like fill out a baby book (or two) that have been forgotten as life went by. Return a phone call I dread, but know I should. Something. ANYTHING! As long as its not "me time." To be honest I'm not sure I know what to do with it. It can't be too involved in case the baby wakes up. It can't be too messy in case the little one become uninterested in what she's doing. It can't be too loud. It can't be so engaging that I'll be upset if I'm interrupted. It makes perfect sense why I head to the laundry pile.

I love being a mother, and I'm happy with my choices in life that lead me here. Sometimes though I'd like time to be me. To take off the hat of responsibility and relax. That hat gets awefully heavy at times.


(Ivy and Daddy at her 3rd birthday party, and Piper starting to crawl)

Time changes things..

I used to dread the day Sierra went back to her fathers. I looked forward to the day I picked her up, and looked upon the weekend like a child looking at Christmas day. Happy that its here. Wanting to cherish every moment of it that you possibly can. But knowing that in just a few hours or days, it will be over. It's always been my flaw I guess. Not being able to truly live in the moment and be happy, because my thoughts always jump to the end. The conclusion. Whats left.

Time changes things though. Each day that passes that she's not here, every weekend that I see her, every time she leaves.. it gets easier. I'm at that point now where I look forward to picking her up, and I look forward to her leaving as well. It's the cycle that is familiar now. If she were here all the time I would be used to her hyperness in the evenings. Her insane appetite for all things "junk food." The way she argues and tries to strike a deal with me about things, as most six year olds do. Years ago it was all normal. All the things she did were just a part of her. I was used to it. But now that she isn't here 24/7, I've found that I am less used to my own daughter. Not in a way that impacts anything of course, and she'll never know the difference...but I do. And its an odd feeling. Almost one of betrayal.

She asks me all the time if I'm sad that she's gone a lot, and I answer her "sometimes." Because thats the truth. When I think of my family, I think of who lives here in my home. And sadly, there is one missing during the week. On weekends however, we are "complete." And thats when I'm truly whole. I know it makes her happy to know that I am sad. Not a malicious kind of happy, but happy that her mother loves her enough to miss her. It gives her the security that she needs. She asks me why it has to be this way, why she has to have two homes. And I tell her that as long as both her father and I are still alive, this is just the way it is. And that maybe in the future when she's older it will change, who knows? I tell her she is special and lucky to have two places to call home and so many people to love her. Still, she's not happy with it. And I don't blame her. I didn't fight for custody for two years for nothing. I fought it for myself and for her, and though I didn't win all the way, either did he. No, its still 50/50 all the way. And for Sierra thats a good, albeit confusing thing. My hope is that when she's older she will understand more. For now, she knows that she has two sets of parents that love her very much and will always be here for her.

Yes, time has changed things. I can enjoy the moments as they come now without looking at the clock and feeling that yucky sensation in the pit of my stomach. I can look forward to the good things that Sunday has to bring. Quiet, less mess, less laundry (though admittedly I have to do my wash during the week) less cups of water and spoiled milk laying around the house, less arguments about using the computer or taking a shower.... and I don't think of the things that I'm missing. It's almost as if she is in suspended animation during the week. I ask her about what went on, and did she have fun at this and that. But she never has much of an answer. For her, her life between her father and I are totally separate parts. When she is here, she thinks nothing of there. And vice versa. Her coping with things is almost the same as mine. She is my daughter after all.

This way of life that we are living isn't perfect, but its comfortable now. I don't feel like I'm falling apart with my heart split in two every waking moment. Any mother who has ever been in a custody battle knows that feeling I'm speaking of. There are no other words to describe it. You feel as though you are dying and there is nothing you can do about it. Two choices, fight or give up. I chose to fight. And though the success wasn't realized until much later, it was still significant. Sometimes when one wants a certain outcome, you set your sights on that and only that. Overlooking the possibility of other outcomes that would be equally as good, or at least better than the worse one. Our shared custody, shared residential agreement is by far not what I had in mind. But as it turns out, it was not what he had in mind either. He wanted all and nothing less. I simply wanted my daughter. In the end I didn't lose her. Not in the way that I thought would be the worst. No, I still have her in my life. And he still has to share. So, I did win after all. Its a good feeling. Especially when time has passed and you realize that as much as you wanted it the other way.... this way is okay too. It works for us. It doesn't mean I love her any less, it just means that we've adapted and changed to fit the circumstances.

I'm glad that we were able to overcome this together. It will be years before she fully realizes how she feels about it, but when she wants to talk I'll always be there. And so will her father.