Starting Over Again..

(This blog post was written in the middle of February, but I'm only now getting a chance to post it. Make sure you read the edit at the end! :)) 

It was bound to happen eventually. A square peg just doesn't fit into a round hole. I've been trying for the past 4 years to make it fit and it's been an uphill battle. Who is the peg? Myself, my husband, my daughters, my son.

A group shot facing the sun. The first real spring day

If you look back through the archives of this blog you'll see that back when Ivy was a baby my intention was 100% unschooling. I bought books. I researched. I planned (to not plan) and I had so many hopes and dreams as a family.

What happened to those? I've been lying to myself, holding onto hope that the peg will fit. I'm not sure why, but I do know that I was afraid to rock the boat too much.We're already Eclectic Pagans, I had natural childbirths, I co-slept, I practiced child led weaning and extended breast feeding. I wore my babies in a sling and held them until they were asleep. I didn't do formula or jarred baby food. I don't go to church. I didn't have an epidural.

What do we do? We sing. We do arts and crafts. We cook and garden. We read books and go to the library. We go swimming at the YMCA and go to Spiralscouts. We go on nature walks and explore. We write poetry and make up stories. We make clay and sculptures. We grow herbs and dry them. We watch the science channel and the discovery channel, and even the history channel. We watch Spongebob too. Lots of Spongebob lately. We play computer games and research on Google. We blog.

Except those things all went to the back burner when school started. Now we try to squeeze in activities but there isn't much time. And im always anxious about making sure they have clean clothes and perfect hair before they leave. When they come home they are a mess of emotions. They're tired and don't want to do anything with me. Vacations are the only times that i can see them learning at home and loving it. They relax enough and that desire and passion returns.

We went puddle jumping and jelly fishing ;)

The turning point for me, was finding out that the school has been forcing Ivy to wear a pressure vest against her will at school for the entire day. This has been going on for months and I had no idea. I was appalled and shocked. They took something that was a positive tool that she loved and even asked for, and they forced her to wear it. They took her power away and created a battleground instead. No wonder why she didn't want to wear the vest at home! No wonder she was always jumpy and agitated. The slightest mention that she was a bit energetic and she would get so angry and defensive. And now, I know why.

I'm heartbroken that the school allowed their teachers and aides to do that to a child. Appalled that even after I told them, you may NEVER force my child to wear it if she doesn't want to, they called her to the OT and they tried to coerce her to wear it and promise them she would. She was told, "you have the choice, but you HAVE to make the RIGHT choice to wear the vest. There is only ONE choice that is

right."

I made the decision to pull her out of school and we are now legally homeschoolers. Though whole life learner, delight driven learning or unschooling is where we fit into the best. I'm not sure yet if I'm going to write about our learning on this blog or a new one or even if we can separate it because it's just how we are. Learning happens all the time, it's almost impossible to make it fit into a neat box and call it learning time. What I suspect is, my life will be more full and happy as we have more time to spend with each other. I can't count the number of times I've said,"maybe this weekend we'll have time" and I hear all the kids start to cry. And personally there are so many bonus's I can't even list them all. I have autism. I don't fit in with other parents and I've felt guilty and sad because Piper expects me to do what the other moms do. I'm filled with so much shame because I haven't yet volunteered in her classroom. I'm stopped with fear when I think about doing it. So much sadness and shame, guilt and tears. I don't want to force myself to do what I've been doing. I'm burning out from the social connections I've been forced to keep. Less energy I've had for the kids, lost because of another IEP or another email from the teacher. The daily notebook filled with negativity.

Ivy is so much happier at home

I will probably always regret not following my passion and keeping my kids close to me. They grow up so fast, hold on. Love them, learn with them, explore with them, grow with them, and trust that they will learn what they want to learn when they need to learn it. Trust.. So much is about trust..

  
*Edit: Its now the middle of March 2012 (St. Patrick's Day to be exact) and things are going very well for us. Ivy's mood is so much happier and I'm more relaxed. We are officially homeschoolers, and I plan to keep the rest of our clan out of school as well. This, is truly a new beginning for us all. We are finally pursuing our real dream. Our original goals. Our life. Hopefully I'll still find time to blog about it because I really want to share this journey with everyone. I am still a disabled mom (though I hate the term) and I struggle with my autism and anxiety daily. Our children all have unique special needs, and my husband still has his own adhd and bipolar issues. We are a family that is robust, loud, and chaotic.. but we're finding a happier rhythm since we've taken back part of our lives that school took away. The calm is visible even to outsiders. This change has been so positive for us and I'm looking forward to blogging more about it!

My Late Unhappy Fathers Day Post (that has nothing to do with Fathers day)

You know, I have no issues with my children wanting to express themselves. Sierra went through that phase of her childhood and it was fine. However, Ivy has no style whatsoever and she doesn't know HOW to have a style. She doesn't understand anything to do with social appropriateness and has to be in classes at school just to learn that its not okay to LICK people, but there is no one but me to teach her how to have a style. How to comb her hair, shower, pick clothes that match and look good, have a hair style, etc..  and every single attempt has failed. Repeatedly. She continues to part her short hair directly down the middle, slicked down, and very much DOES look like a boy. Her anxiety sky rockets all the time, "I look like a boy!" "People call me a boy!" "Why do I look like a boy??" and its daily. Yet any attempts to get her to do her hair differently... even as simple as a clip on the side, pulling her bangs sideways, or scrunching the back to give it volume.... are at first met with a little resistance... but then she likes it. She loves it! She takes pictures. She looks at herself in the mirror. She shows everyone. She says how pretty she is. Ten minutes later she suddenly flips the other way and starts screaming that she can't take it, "I want it flat! I want it flat! OMG make it flat! I want it normal! I want it down!" and she puts her head in the sink, wets my house, her head, her clothes.. and frantically does this while screaming and shrieking, and hitting me. Any attempts to console her are futile. She won't say anything else except to just ignore everything I say to her. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't just let her go and expect her to learn eventually. She already gets teased all the time, and bullied daily at school. I want to help her! This isn't about forcing her to wear dresses, or making her change dramatically. This is like, "Here, try a headband." or "How about you tuck your hair behind your ears?" and then we spend a LOT of time looking at styles, and looking at pictures. And she finds so many she thinks are pretty... but she can't do them. She can't keep it. She always goes back to the ball of nothingness. And I am having a hard time separating my feelings. Image via Wikipedia

I have never had an issue with personal style and kids making their own choices. I really don't give a crap. Its hair. But in this case, she is doing it because of her anxiety.. and its not healthy for her to continue to do something that is negatively affecting her SO MUCH... the amount of people and kids that hurt her every day are numerous. And its because of her hair. And I'm helpless because she won't listen to me or keep it the way we put it. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I'm fucking pissed off right now to be honest. I wasted nearly 2 hours of my day trying to get her hair in a "new way" so that her anxiety about looking like a boy would lessen, and it worked... only for a few minutes to pass and for her to get angry and mad at me for the "new style" that she just seconds ago gushed about. What gives? Is this anxiety driven? How do we get past it? She did this with long hair too. And unfortunatly because of her personal space issues, she always gets head lice from people... and she didn't want to put it up at all. I had to give reinforcements of food if she came home from school with her hair still up. And for awhile that worked. But it seems like this anxiety to have her hair down and flat slicked to her face like... ugh.. its just... it IS weird looking. How do I keep my little girl who people already think is weird, from making herself look weirder? In a quote un quote "normal" child, I would let them do what they wanted and then let the natural course of learning show her different ways.  But Ivy has autism, a cognitive disorder, ADHD, and an anxiety disorder. She can't do it on her own.. What am I supposed to do? Send her out in the world with mismatched clothes, hair that looks disgusting, and just.... let her? *sigh* Parents ARE going to judge me for it. They already have judged me for letting my oldest have her own style and that was minor compared to this.

I don't have kids that dress in expensive perfect matching clothes. I seem to have 4 girls that so far all want to look like boys, or at least don't want to express themselves in any way whatsoever. I guess I have myself to blame for that. I don't have a style myself. I barely shower, I never have a chance to buy or wear proper clothes. And really, for who? For what? So it can get chewed on? Spit on? Nose wiped on? The reality is, I have nothing. I am nothing.

Happy Fathers day. I'm feeling really low after this mornings blow up over hair. I don't know why. Maybe because I can't do ANYTHING to bond with ANY of my kids. And I can't help them or tell them ANYTHING, and have them listen. Yet if someone else tells them, chances are they'll listen then. So really, what good am I besides the maid? I clean things, they mess them up. I cook, they throw around.. possibly eat. I wash. They fuck up. ..... at the end of the day there are always complaints and no thank you's. Not even from my teenager. What little I see of her anymore.

Not having a vehicle is throwing me off in a big way. Its been nearly 2 months with nothing but the occasional use of my cousins car, which I would be grateful for,... if he were not LIVING ON MY LIVING ROOM FLOOR! .... we all know how I get when we have company that overstays their welcome. (which in btw, anything more than a few hours.) I just need my own space. I need to feel safe in my house. I need this to be a place for ME. And its not. It hasn't been for a long time.

Chris finally has his surgery and can walk and help me... and he's not. He's outside with Matthew working on the jeep. Every day. All day. And I'm in here. I'm like an octopus. Arms and legs everywhere, running here and there.. trying to catch things before people get hurt. Trying to always be here saving people, feeding, breaking up fights. And every day loops into the next. I don't have the time or the energy, or the capability, or the gas, or the vehicles or the ability to take my kids out of the house and do something new with them. Or to even do something that isn't new. We haven't been on a walk, or gone swimming at Rotary Park in years. Its been years. And THAT... is pathetic.

I feel like I'm rotting on the inside slowly every day.  I wake up and the cycle starts all over again. And its not like planting a flower and watching it grow and nourishing and taking care of it.... and then seeing what it turns into. This.. this is painful. This is more than painful. This is watching life happen around me, and watching me... away from myself.. trying to keep up. Having no time to even reflect on anything that makes me feel happy. Its why there are rarely any happy status messages (something I've been chastised for recently. Go figure.) and why my blog posts are usually angst ridden or angry, or overly emotional. Because its in THESE moments, that I sit here at the computer and fire off posts and messages. Somehow when its something i want to say thats happy, the need to write isn't as strong. ..... coping. Its a coping skill I guess. ... my feeling starts to fade by the time the message is written... and I can feel my anger lessening. So I guess I'm using it as a coping mechanism to get through the emotional feelings I'm having at the time. Silently slamming computer keys is my version of hitting people or screaming. And in a case like the trigger today... I have no reason to be angry, yet I am. I am.. hurt. I put so much effort into everything I do..   and I was so happy that she was happy about her hair. I even took pictures. And then she snapped and flipped backwards. And it caught me off guard. Instead of looking at it rationally today and knowing (duh) that she has anxiety issues. (I knew she would take it out. I did know.) I got carried away in the happy feelings I was having, and thus.. it feels personal when she flipped the other way and started yelling about her hair. ..... So how can the happy moments mean something to me.. how can I hold onto the happy ones, when they get negated? Because THAT is the issue.

I bribe people, or give in to people desires because I need them happy so that I can be happy. And lately there are so many issues, and needs, that at every moment....someone is unhappy. On the rare occasion that all my younger kids are happy at the same time, and Chris and I are happy at the same time.... in walks Sierra from outside in the crappiest mood I've seen ever. Any attempts to talk to her are met with the traditional teenager attitude of "What?" and "so?" and "ya." etc. complete with eyerolling, shoulder shrugging, whatevers, and the pissiness that goes along with it. And again I find myself trying to cheer up the person that is upset. "I have a candy bar, want to share it with me?" "Sure" but the mood remains. I try something else. And more. And every time that her mood stays the same, its like a knife through my heart.

With Chris, he wants games. And his face lights up when he talks about a new game he wants. And then he begs and pleads like a little boy. "Pleeeease?" and I want him to stay happy. I want to see that smile on his face and that twinkle in his eyes. So I give in. Even though he already bought a game. And we can't afford it. And I think its horribly unfair that he gets TWO $60 games and I have bought nothing for myself that month.. Buy? I've had one shower this month. I don't even get to take care of the basic needs like peeing, showering, eating, etc..  they get put off and put off. Why? Do they really stop me? I feel like attitudes and moods stop me. Facial expressions stop me. I want to keep people happy...  ...  I'm not sure what this is, or how to fix it. And for once in my life I haven't googled it yet. This is the root to most of my issue I think, personally and as a mother.

How can I be happy despite everyone else's moods? Is this an autism thing? Is this a woman thing? A mom thing? A fucked up in the head thing? Help me.

My Struggles With Blogging and Anonymity

I've struggled with the idea of separating my blog for awhile now. Part of me wants to keep it semi-private, while the other part of me want to announce it and shout it from the rooftops. Its that open and closed part of myself that annoys me the most. Generally speaking, I am a private person. I keep my shades closed and I hate the sound of someone knocking on my door. Online however it feels different to me. I know for many people on the spectrum, the internet provides that anonymity that they crave. The problem is, I realize its false. I am not a secret. In a matter of clicks you can connect other profiles to other sites, and bam! My identity is pretty obvious and I'm easy to find. I can be found on thousands of websites in one Google search. I've had an online presence since 1996 and I can't just wipe that away. I don't even want to! But sometimes I struggle with blogging about things that feel private. Maybe its because I creep on my neighbors online. (and everyone else I know.) Maybe its because I can't get over how open other people really are. Or maybe it's simply that people don't give a shit?

I see you..

Do you know how easy you are to Google? Do you realize that I know everything about you? I've told people that I looked them up before. And I was shocked. Flabbergasted really! To hear them nonchalantly say, "Oh ya?" And that was that. Oh ya?! Seriously? I just told you that I stalked you online. I know where your work, your home address, your phone number, and I know that you hate  your mother in law and you had sex last night with an ex boyfriend that's the most hideous creature ever born on earth, but that you're desperate and horny so that doesn't matter. I know that you can't pay your rent, but that you bought a new car. Oops. Never mind. The new boy toy bought you a new car, you just sleep with him to keep him making payments. And the day I found out you had a freckle on your inner thigh right next to your va-jayjay was the day I realized I knew too much. My cup of coffee every morning, and a click to see your latest post.

But back to my issue. I told you that I stalk you and you don't care. Now I'm left wondering if I'm in the minority. And how can I feel two opposing things at once? I want a blog. I want traffic and visitors, and even yearn to reach out to people, especially other mothers that have a disability or are struggling with a mental or neurological disorder. And yet I'm extremely private and, yes.. I'll say it.. paranoid. I think you're a social worker hired by DHS to spy on me and report back how many diapers I didn't change immediately after the baby peed in them, and how many dinners are cereal because I'm too frazzled to cook dinner. Or maybe you're just a family member. ... except I don't have many of those I talk to. Wait, that's worse. Maybe you're one of the ones I don't talk to! I keep you out of my life because I don't want you in it. But here you are, reading my every thought I put here. And short of making my blog completely private, there isn't anything I can do about it. (though I suppose if I was willing to move my blog elsewhere I could utilize IP blocking but that's besides the point.)

So just exactly why do I blog again? I seem to be nothing but a contradiction in every sentence. I confuse even myself. I learned years ago to write down things that confuse me, so here it goes.

I am blogging for several reasons. I will list my reasons. They are in no particular order of importance.

1. I want to preserve memories and thoughts about my life and my family's, as well as save pictures and videos.
   
2. I want to write down my struggles and successes as a parent with a disability. 
3. I want readers to be able to connect with me. As strange as this sounds after reading the above paragraphs, I want readers to get to know me in a way that most people don't. I want them to be able to relate in some way and share my journey through life.
4. I want people, women, and parents to be able to find information about Autism, ADHD, Anxiety Disorder and other various issues that I have first hand knowledge about. I want to be a source of information and also entertainment. Because lets face it, my life is chaotic and crazy! 
5. I want to be more consistent in my delivery of this content so that my readers will always have something to keep them entertained. 
6. I want to find comfort and healing through this blog, by knowing that everything in it might be public knowledge. I want to eventually feel okay about this. So in part, I consider this an important part of my personal therapy. 
7. I would like to make millions of dollars in revenue by delivering highly entertaining content.  
8. I want to enjoy myself while writing and have a place that I can feel free to share what I create.
9. I want to be able to share my graphic designs, photographs, poetry and stories with a larger audience beyond my husband and kids. 
10. I want to accomplish something bigger than myself.

So why have I written this today? Well, I realized that its taking a lot of energy to try to separate what I want to write about my life in general (like a journal) and what I want to educate people on. (autism, ADHD, etc) The two really are intertwined. I cannot take the autism out of my life, any more than I can take away my natural eye color. I can mask it but its always really there in my DNA. So I decided against separating my journal type blog, from my autism blog. Who am I? I'm a mother, and a wife. I'm a woman with autism, and anxiety disorder. I'm a mother to several special needs children and I have a husband with ADHD. I'm Pagan, but struggle with integrating that into my life on a daily basis now that I have children, and find myself hating that in order to be understood I have to box myself into the category of Wicca. I'm an ex Christian, abused by their dogma and brought down by the holier than thou believers. I believe in co-existing with other religions. Christianity I've found for the most part, does not. I'm a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and emotional, mental and physical abuse in my teen years and adult life. I'm an recovering self mutilator (cutter) and quit smoking cold turkey 4 years ago. I've been incorrectly diagnosed with quite a few things, and finally after years.. correctly diagnosed. I spent years on medication that I didn't need to take.

There are so many different things that make me who I am. Its not possible to fit them all in this paragraph, or separate them into different blogs to target different audiences, even though that's what gets the best traffic. (most websites tell me anyway) What matters is that you all know I'm about as diverse as it comes. Marching to the beat of my own drummer, is the best sentence I could use to describe me. And best yet? No one else even hears the beat I'm marching too. (and they're all marching the other way lol)

Please know, if you read old posts you might find that I tried to use various pseudonyms to conceal my identity, or my children. The problem is, I find that extremely impersonal. (which I should like right?.. wrong.) I have this need to connect with readers, and that connection can only be done when I'm telling the truth. No matter how awful it might be. Anyone that truly knows me in real life knows that I value truth over anything else. Even if it hurts. So I think I have this real need to convey that to my readers. No matter what parts of my life need improvement. No matter the mistakes I've made. No matter how imperfect I may be, I am always going to be honest. Without honesty, what do we have?

Though my life might be entertaining to read, and my issues I deal with every day.. well, I don't often hear stories quite like mine. Other times my posts can be depressing. Sometimes they might make you angry. Maybe you feel pity. Maybe you hate me. Maybe you love me. At the end of the day, I know I wrote the truth and hopefully so do you. Its that connection that I'm really reaching for.

So please, when you read my blog; try to remember that I'm writing it for many purposes. If you know me in real life, (online friends don't count here, sorry!) please do us both a favor and don't tell me you're reading my blog. Stalk me if you'd like, but lets keep it a secret. If I've written something about you and haven't concealed your identity, then by all means let me know and I'll rectify that immediately. (and then I'll pretend that you never told me you found my blog) Sometimes when I'm writing (with honesty) I don't remember to leave out those details. Because to me, the details are whats important. But rest assured I never put full names and addresses or anything crazy like that. For some reason I just have a real hard time changing peoples first names. Its almost like I cannot tell the story with fake names or it changes everything for me. I spent so much time trying to remember who is who, and what name I need to use for what person that the whole thing I was trying to write is lost and the moment, gone.

In a perfect world, no one that I know will ever find this blog and I can remain a wonderful mystery person. I'll have a million followers and become insanely popular. (and make those millions) I would be happy with a handful of loyal readers, and people that honestly can connect with what I'm writing and know that what they read is real. This is me. This is my life. Enjoy the ride.