I picked the worst "father" possible for my son. I'm not going to dredge up bad memories here. But there's a reason I have full custody and worry that he may show up to wreak havoc. There's a reason I refer to him in my thoughts as NGEFMK (Not Good Enough for My Kid). Fortunately, he seems to have no interest in popping back into our lives these days. In my last four e-mail exchanges with NGE , he contacted me to ask for money (um...NO). As an afterthought, he ended each e-mail with, "How's Dom?" The first three times I gave him cheery updates on Dom's life and never heard back. The last time, though, I simply responded, "You should call and ask him that." He hasn't, and he won't, unless he could use that contact to make me miserable.
But that's a GOOD thing. Just take my word for it. Dom does miss NGE, but he understands why he can't see him. And honestly, our day-to-day life is crazy enough that the topic rarely surfaces. When it does, Dom alternates between wistfulness and anger. But he knows he's safe.
It helps that our lives are more stable, more secure, less chaotic without NGE. That has enabled Dom to thrive and grow into himself in ways that he couldn't while tiptoeing around NGE's um...issues.
It also helps that Dom is blessed to have some great male role models in his life. Some of them have always been there, filling in the blanks all along that his father left unfilled. Others are more recent additions to our world, and they've already made a significant impact on my baby. After being let down for so long, Dom is finally REALLY realizing that he can count on some men (comments about apples and trees to yourselves, please).
Dom now prides himself on being a big boy. He's taking quick showers instead of sponge baths...this is the kid who used to shriek when a raindrop hit him. He resists the urge to use his earcovers unless/until a noise is about to drive him crazy...that's helping him build up his tolerance to certain sounds. He usually remembers to clean up his messes...this from a kid who previously wasn't able to even see a mess. He doesn't do his nervous sensory tics as often, either...it's been a long time since I saw him spinning (his sleeves are still having holes chewed into them, but he's getting there).
Mostly, though, I'm thankful for the other improvements I've been seeing in Dom. He's happy. I mean really, really happy. He smiles and laughs more. And that's thanks to one particular man who's entered our lives and picked up the pieces. Who's stepped in to shoulder responsibility that isn't his. Who's gone out of his way to show Dom that he CAN when he says he can't. Who's loved him and been a steady rock when Dom most needed one.
That man is pretty amazing.
January 26, 2012
January 12, 2012
I'm a good Mom, damnit! So what's wrong with my kid???
I like to think I'm a good Mom. Not great, necessarily, but at least in the very good range. Dom has all of his needs met and most of his wants. I try to give him as much attention as I can, and I obsess over getting him the help he needs. And I mean obsess...I do hours of research every week, brainstorm workarounds for the classroom, and patiently drill the same fricking information over and over and over (okay, maybe not entirely patiently).
I don't say all of that so that everyone starts yelling out, "No! You're an AWESOME Mom!" I say it because no matter what I do, it isn't enough. No matter how much research I do, I can't find the magic bullet that will enable him to be normal. No matter how many ideas I come up with to help him at school, they won't work if he doesn't use them. No matter how many times I read/explain/teach/sound out/run the numbers with him, he just forgets it fifteen minutes later.
And he's weird. Not always in a good way. Which means he's a target of teasing and bullying. I talk to teachers, parents, and kids. I roleplay with Dom to teach him proper reactions and solutions. And it's still not enough.
No matter how much I do, it will never be enough. Everytime we come to a new obstacle or trip over an existing one, we'll be frustrated. He'll spend his whole life regrouping from those frustrations.
Yet in those moments when Dom is able to escape the prison in which his challenges keep him locked, in those moments when he can be still, when he looks at me with clarity in his usually-distracted eyes and says "I love you, Mommy"...I'm grateful. I look at him and I thank God that He gave me this gift. Of course I follow up my thanks with a "Please help me help my baby." But what parent doesn't?
In the end, God gave me the perfect kid for me. I don't know why this kid or these challenges. But no matter how long our road, or how hard we have to work along the way, we will continue. Because it's up to me to treasure the gift that is my boy.
I don't say all of that so that everyone starts yelling out, "No! You're an AWESOME Mom!" I say it because no matter what I do, it isn't enough. No matter how much research I do, I can't find the magic bullet that will enable him to be normal. No matter how many ideas I come up with to help him at school, they won't work if he doesn't use them. No matter how many times I read/explain/teach/sound out/run the numbers with him, he just forgets it fifteen minutes later.
And he's weird. Not always in a good way. Which means he's a target of teasing and bullying. I talk to teachers, parents, and kids. I roleplay with Dom to teach him proper reactions and solutions. And it's still not enough.
No matter how much I do, it will never be enough. Everytime we come to a new obstacle or trip over an existing one, we'll be frustrated. He'll spend his whole life regrouping from those frustrations.
Yet in those moments when Dom is able to escape the prison in which his challenges keep him locked, in those moments when he can be still, when he looks at me with clarity in his usually-distracted eyes and says "I love you, Mommy"...I'm grateful. I look at him and I thank God that He gave me this gift. Of course I follow up my thanks with a "Please help me help my baby." But what parent doesn't?
In the end, God gave me the perfect kid for me. I don't know why this kid or these challenges. But no matter how long our road, or how hard we have to work along the way, we will continue. Because it's up to me to treasure the gift that is my boy.
January 5, 2012
And now, for a word from the single mom...
Being a single mom is hard work. You juggle bills, short either your kid or your job (or both) on time and attention, and you fight a constant war to get at least the major stuff completed. In the midst of this chaotic life, you try to remember to do the little things that are actually the most important...trips to the playground, stories, games, MEMORIES. Somehow, you usually pull it all together. Not because you're SuperMom, but because you have no other choice.
At the end of your battle, you usually reap a reward: You produce a productive member of society, someone who may one day better the world, who treats people kindly and understands the value of hard work.
That's the usual reward. However, if you're a single mom to a kid with struggles, that reward often seems unattainable.
Obviously, different kids have different outcomes. And even moms with partners walk a rough road for their special needs kids. But the difference is that I simply don't have as much time to focus on helping Dom because I have to go to work. There's no one to tag to do the laundry, dishes, or grocery shopping when I'm overwhelmed. There's just me.
So as far as Dom goes, I had a moment this morning when I was reduced to a sobbing mess on his bedroom floor, wondering whether he'd ever be able to hold down a job, whether he'd ever be able to graduate from school, hell...whether he'd ever be able to read a story without someone forcing him to focus on each individual word. And those are just my worries for TODAY!
What started this morning's descent into despair? It took Dom 45 minutes to put on his shoes. And that was after 30 minutes of yelling at him to get dressed before I gave up and dressed him myself. It wasn't that he was ignoring me. It wasn't that he was deeply involved in anything else. It was simply that he would start to put on a shoe, then see something way across the room that he had to do right that instant...so he'd forget about the shoe. Lather, rinse, repeat...all morning. He missed the bus, I took him to school, I was late for work.
Last night we spent 30 minutes attempting to read a book before I realized he couldn't focus on the words because the amount of text was distracting him...so instead I pulled out a new stack of sight word cards that he breezed through on his first try. I don't know how to fix that for him. Knowing individual words is great - his teacher says he has an incredible vocabulary. But when it's time to put it all together, it instead falls apart into a big heap of SPD BULLCRAP.
Today, I'm frustrated. And angry. And so, so afraid that my baby may never reach his full potential. Which makes me worry even more...
At the end of your battle, you usually reap a reward: You produce a productive member of society, someone who may one day better the world, who treats people kindly and understands the value of hard work.
That's the usual reward. However, if you're a single mom to a kid with struggles, that reward often seems unattainable.
Obviously, different kids have different outcomes. And even moms with partners walk a rough road for their special needs kids. But the difference is that I simply don't have as much time to focus on helping Dom because I have to go to work. There's no one to tag to do the laundry, dishes, or grocery shopping when I'm overwhelmed. There's just me.
So as far as Dom goes, I had a moment this morning when I was reduced to a sobbing mess on his bedroom floor, wondering whether he'd ever be able to hold down a job, whether he'd ever be able to graduate from school, hell...whether he'd ever be able to read a story without someone forcing him to focus on each individual word. And those are just my worries for TODAY!
What started this morning's descent into despair? It took Dom 45 minutes to put on his shoes. And that was after 30 minutes of yelling at him to get dressed before I gave up and dressed him myself. It wasn't that he was ignoring me. It wasn't that he was deeply involved in anything else. It was simply that he would start to put on a shoe, then see something way across the room that he had to do right that instant...so he'd forget about the shoe. Lather, rinse, repeat...all morning. He missed the bus, I took him to school, I was late for work.
Last night we spent 30 minutes attempting to read a book before I realized he couldn't focus on the words because the amount of text was distracting him...so instead I pulled out a new stack of sight word cards that he breezed through on his first try. I don't know how to fix that for him. Knowing individual words is great - his teacher says he has an incredible vocabulary. But when it's time to put it all together, it instead falls apart into a big heap of SPD BULLCRAP.
Today, I'm frustrated. And angry. And so, so afraid that my baby may never reach his full potential. Which makes me worry even more...
January 4, 2012
Somebody gets it!
I mean someone REALLY, REALLY gets it!
No Off Switch
January 2, 2012 by SuperADDmom
My son is 6, he has Sensory Integration and Central Auditory Processing Disorder. We homeschool, so he is with me all the time.
He’s hyper, he’s active, he has no off button. I knew this when I was pregnant with him. He never stopped moving.
He cannot walk anywhere, he has to run. He cannot sit still, ever.
He is “clumsy” and spills a lot, and bumps himself a lot. He can fall off a chair just sitting there. He’ll be eating and sitting like “normal” at the table and then BOOM hits the floor hard. The dysregulation in his nervous system requires he seek input constantly and he sings ALL THE TIME. He has to crash into things and people to stimulate his nervous system.
He pounds the floor hard when he walks for input in his joints…..talks non stop, spins, jumps, etc etc etc. He tipped the kitchen chairs back on two legs constantly and fell from them daily. So now he sits on a chair I brought in from the garden that is more like a stool he can’t tip back , because there is no back to push off of.
He wears me out. He sucks the energy out of me mentally and physically.
Even though I know all of this and do things to compensate for it like give him extra leeway because I know it is a thing and he is not doing it to annoy… he drives me bananas after 12 hours of him constantly yammering on and on and on and ON…and spinning, and jumping and talking too loud ( no volume control).
The only time the child is ever quiet is when he is asleep and with the nature of his neurodiversities and just simply getting older, he requires less and less sleep.
If he is awake and is silent, I assume he is hurt or sick – aside from getting lost in Legos upstairs (and even then I can still hear him talking to himself), or being wrapped up like burrito in a blanket to sooth himself while watching a movie he adores like Tron, Cars, anything with a dog in it – sick or hurt is the only time he’s quiet when he is awake.
He’s a total ball of energy, and makes me wanna pull out my hair and deafen myself most days.
And then…when he is asleep…I miss it.
No Off Switch
January 2, 2012 by SuperADDmom
My son is 6, he has Sensory Integration and Central Auditory Processing Disorder. We homeschool, so he is with me all the time.
He’s hyper, he’s active, he has no off button. I knew this when I was pregnant with him. He never stopped moving.
He cannot walk anywhere, he has to run. He cannot sit still, ever.
He is “clumsy” and spills a lot, and bumps himself a lot. He can fall off a chair just sitting there. He’ll be eating and sitting like “normal” at the table and then BOOM hits the floor hard. The dysregulation in his nervous system requires he seek input constantly and he sings ALL THE TIME. He has to crash into things and people to stimulate his nervous system.
He pounds the floor hard when he walks for input in his joints…..talks non stop, spins, jumps, etc etc etc. He tipped the kitchen chairs back on two legs constantly and fell from them daily. So now he sits on a chair I brought in from the garden that is more like a stool he can’t tip back , because there is no back to push off of.
He wears me out. He sucks the energy out of me mentally and physically.
Even though I know all of this and do things to compensate for it like give him extra leeway because I know it is a thing and he is not doing it to annoy… he drives me bananas after 12 hours of him constantly yammering on and on and on and ON…and spinning, and jumping and talking too loud ( no volume control).
The only time the child is ever quiet is when he is asleep and with the nature of his neurodiversities and just simply getting older, he requires less and less sleep.
If he is awake and is silent, I assume he is hurt or sick – aside from getting lost in Legos upstairs (and even then I can still hear him talking to himself), or being wrapped up like burrito in a blanket to sooth himself while watching a movie he adores like Tron, Cars, anything with a dog in it – sick or hurt is the only time he’s quiet when he is awake.
He’s a total ball of energy, and makes me wanna pull out my hair and deafen myself most days.
And then…when he is asleep…I miss it.
December 30, 2011
My Wish for 2012
We're about to wrap up 2011! It's been a crazy year. I'm in a solid, healthy relationship with an incredible man who makes me thankful for the long, dark road that brought us together. Dom found the perfect fit with his Kindergarten teacher. We finally got formal diagnoses for the weirdness that is my Buglet, and we've been making changes for him that are helping.
As I write this, Dom is building elaborate Lego vehicles and driving them up my leg. A year ago, he didn't have the fine motor skills to put Legos together. Now they're an obsession that feeds his weird engineering brain.
While swim lessons didn't come to the desired conclusion, Dom got into the water and even dunked himself a few times. He learned to acknowledge his body's warnings that he was about to hit sensory overload, and he's been learning to let adults know in time to help.
At school, he not only remembers his classmates' names, but he has actual friends (and a girlfriend, but I don't want to bring myself down by acknowledging that fact)! What a change from Pre-K last year, when he couldn't tell you his teacher's name on the last day of school.
This has been an amazing, blessed year. All the same, my wish for 2012 is that Dom make even more progress...that his diagnoses get pinned down even more, that Occupational Therapy helps him make even larger strides, that an IEP gets put on the books to help him become the star student we all know he can be.
And for all of you, my wish is that this New Year brings you, too, more blessings than the last.
As I write this, Dom is building elaborate Lego vehicles and driving them up my leg. A year ago, he didn't have the fine motor skills to put Legos together. Now they're an obsession that feeds his weird engineering brain.
While swim lessons didn't come to the desired conclusion, Dom got into the water and even dunked himself a few times. He learned to acknowledge his body's warnings that he was about to hit sensory overload, and he's been learning to let adults know in time to help.
At school, he not only remembers his classmates' names, but he has actual friends (and a girlfriend, but I don't want to bring myself down by acknowledging that fact)! What a change from Pre-K last year, when he couldn't tell you his teacher's name on the last day of school.
This has been an amazing, blessed year. All the same, my wish for 2012 is that Dom make even more progress...that his diagnoses get pinned down even more, that Occupational Therapy helps him make even larger strides, that an IEP gets put on the books to help him become the star student we all know he can be.
And for all of you, my wish is that this New Year brings you, too, more blessings than the last.
December 17, 2011
December 16, 2011
On Raising Boys
It's really, really hard to be a single Mom. It leaves you wracked with guilt. The stay-at-home Moms make digs at you for not participating more at school/childcare/the library. You miss big milestones when you're off at work. You stress that you're not spending enough time with your kid...then you stress that you're spending too much time away from work. We won't even get into the financial issues here. Just know that they're huge.
Being a single Mom to a boy comes with additional worries. You worry that the day will come when your son needs help tying a tie. You panic over the thought that someday he'll need advice that you're just not equipped to provide. You wonder how he'll ever learn anything about sports (yeah, I know about sports, but I certainly don't care enough to pass the information along). And you wonder whether you're giving him enough exposure to male influence.
Especially that last. Dom and I are blessed to have men in our lives who are willing to pick up some of his father's slack. Unfortunately, they all have lives and families of their own. Which leaves me to piece together attention here and there as I can. It puts me in an awkward position...I hate having to encroach on someone's life. I'll do it for Dom's sake, but I still hate it.
There are so many ways that I fear this lack of testosterone bonding will affect Dom's future. For the most part, I just put my head down and struggle on. But sometimes I look at my baby and I can see the man he can be...and I worry that I don't know how to help him get there.
Being a single Mom to a boy comes with additional worries. You worry that the day will come when your son needs help tying a tie. You panic over the thought that someday he'll need advice that you're just not equipped to provide. You wonder how he'll ever learn anything about sports (yeah, I know about sports, but I certainly don't care enough to pass the information along). And you wonder whether you're giving him enough exposure to male influence.
Especially that last. Dom and I are blessed to have men in our lives who are willing to pick up some of his father's slack. Unfortunately, they all have lives and families of their own. Which leaves me to piece together attention here and there as I can. It puts me in an awkward position...I hate having to encroach on someone's life. I'll do it for Dom's sake, but I still hate it.
There are so many ways that I fear this lack of testosterone bonding will affect Dom's future. For the most part, I just put my head down and struggle on. But sometimes I look at my baby and I can see the man he can be...and I worry that I don't know how to help him get there.
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