blogging & choices

Turns out, I'm not the most optimistic person in the world. Well, I already knew that. As a result, I'm not the most optimistic blogger in the world. Makes sense, plus I know my blog has often been a place for me to rant about what is going on in my life.

Does this make for the best read? No. 

Does this make me sound whiny sometimes? Absolutely. 

Does it bother me? Not so much. 

And I'll tell you why; I didn't start out this blog with an audience. I fired up the computer (okay, iPad) and started essentially journaling in a public forum. -- A public forum that I hadn't actually let anyone in my life know about. Still now, only my husband and a close friend in South Korea know it exists. To my knowledge. They're the only ones who have asked, so they are the only ones I have sent the link to. I don't think pretty much anyone else in my life knows I blog anymore. Yet, I have a following of around 1,000 people. 

For the first two years of Johnny's life, I blogged at a decreasingly steady rate. I started a few weeks before he was born, and finally called it quits around the time he turned 2. The people in my life were constantly asking for updates on the kid, and it was easier than blasting them with emails. With a blog, they could catch up when they wanted to or ignore it altogether. I came to realize that they had moved toward that "ignore it" option, and since Johnny was beginning to exhibit some of the issues we are dealing with today, it was easier to just stop and focus on the kid. Now, 2 years later, I'm back at it for a totally different purpose: I need my own "calm down" time. I need a sounding board (that doesn't respond in resounding condescension, though I don't have any opposition to comments and questions) where I could both return to my passion of writing and talk things out with myself. 

I'm one of those people that process events in their life much better by voicing it. 

I think what bothers me most about discussing some of these things with people who are a part of my life but not actively involved is that I am either judged or dismissed as exaggerating. Yes, I have a side to me that exaggerates sometimes, but that is usually about the size of the line at the checkout or the intensity of a movie. When I say that I can't leave my kid with a normal sitter, I'm not blowing things out of proportion. I can't. I have a very small list of people who I trust can not only handle my kid, but be a positive source of help and lovingly correct him when he is doing something he shouldn't, working to guide him in the right direction. When someone doesn't understand my son, they just deal with him the way they would any other child. You can't do that with Johnny -- it is not simply a bad idea that causes more tantrums and meltdowns, it can be damaging to him. When I think of how adults treated me when I was a child, I can easily see how they had a huge affect over my self esteem. When you're always being told that you're bad or in constant trouble for something, it is hard to think you're worth squat. 

One of the biggest challenges in my life is also my most important goal: I will not treat my son the way I was treated as a child. While it is something you might think would come naturally because I am hyper-aware of the issue, it is still a struggle when I'm so used to being handled in that way. It is also sometimes hard to remind myself not to dismiss his actions as "bad" without looking at the root cause when I'm physically tired and turning into a puddle of mental exhaustion. I do make sure I always do one thing though, and it hasn't been hard to make this adaptation to typical parenting: I do not tell my child he has been bad. I do not tell my child he has been good. I make sure my son knows when he has been making good or bad choices. Because he isn't a bad kid. As with all kids, (and people in general) his actions come from a specific part of his interpretation of life, be it accurate or not. It should be kept in mind that while bad choices are easily pointed out, the good choices a kid makes need to be acknowledged as well. 

Did you make good choices today? 

hugs & kisses

I've known a lot of sweet kids in my life. Snuggle bugs, kids that always want everyone to be happy, kids that smile non-stop... but nothing could have prepared me for the way I feel when my own little guy wants to "fix it" for me.

I guess it makes sense that after countless times that I have tried to convince him that all of his troubles can be solved with a hug and a kiss, (I mean, come on, at this age it is a good philosophy!)  he would start to believe it. "You don't feel good, mommy? Don't worry, I'll make you all better." Hug, hug, hug, hug, hug (in rapid succession so I'm being patted on the back with both arms around me amidst tight squeezes) and kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss. "There! You are feeling better, you just forgot!" -- That's one of his favorite things to say when he thinks his father or I was wrong and need to change our minds about something; "you forgot". Couple that with "you didn't know" (another favorite when he thinks we are woefully ignorant about something of great importance) and you've mastered his two main phrases. 

Whether it is because I am depressed, my chronic back pain is worse, or I stubbed my toe, Johnny is always there to fix me. While his efforts don't make a lick of difference in relation to the root cause of why I am upset, they are my favorite aspect of being his mom. Somehow, with the grace of God, I have given birth to the boy in possession of the biggest heart in the world. 

Yesterday I very suddenly became violently ill. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I haven't been that sick since I went out on the town for my sister's 21st birthday party and forgot that I had taken a benzo when I'd been overwhelmed in a crowded restaurant at dinner. Bad mix. "Mommy, you forgot." -- Anyway, the whole evening (and so far today) all I could think about was how much better I would feel if I could only have my little man hold me for a moment and kiss away the pain. I'd still be sick, but I crave that overwhelming feeling of love that he radiates. Aren't we as parents supposed to kiss away the pain our children experience? How did he take on that role? 

Don't get me wrong, I give plenty hugs and kisses to my son and spend hours rocking and holding him when he is upset. I do everything I can to help him calm down and whatever is possible to make him feel better. But still, I am in awe of the fact that he has so totally mastered that skill at the age of 4. The otherwise on-the-go kid will slow down and snuggle for an hour if I'm having a rough day. If my back hurts, he tells me he will crack it for me like the doctor because he is going to make me feel better. His little hands suddenly find their way to my back while I sit there, allowing him to press as hard as he can (a gentle nudge, honestly) and then break into a big grin at what a good job he did. While I feel utterly helpless in the moments where I can't take away his pain, he is completely confident in his ability to make a difference in my wellbeing. 

I wish I wasn't possibly contagious. I could really use some Johnny right now.

progress & activities

After a process more painful than the 39 hours of labor it took to birth him, I finally have Johnny's insurance in place. We are sitting at the dentist's office as I type. Since his last visit, they have created an "Adult Lounge" for parents who either only brought one kid or who have sent all of their kids back at the same time. Is the insurance paying for the coffee and tea as well? I'll admit I'm enjoying a few minutes of silence. 

Now that we have both the formal diagnosis of PDD in place and his insurance figured out, Johnny was approved for TSS services. They wouldn't cover overlap for him to transition into it and away from Dave, but at least we are getting somewhere. I am waiting on a phone call to set up the first meeting. I'm unclear of what all it entails since I'm pretty sure he's getting a case manager as well, but I'm just glad that whatever they offer is covered. We don't have the resources otherwise.

So, last week I took Johnny to his school's trip to what used to be (and to area residents will always be referred to as) Bland's Park. They've renamed the tiny theme park DelGrosso's after the family (and company) that owns it, but there is something distinctly strange about a park named after a family's spaghetti sauce empire. Never mind the fact that naming a spaghetti sauce or any other kind of food product a name that contains the word "gross" in it might not have been the greatest marketing idea... Anyway, I took the kid to the theme park with the help of his Aunt Lizzie. Boy, did that kid surprise me. I had decided to participate in the school activity because of his positive experience with the rides at the carnival a few weeks back, but never did I think that my son would want to ride a roller coaster at any age, much less at 4 years old. I guess after all of this time saying how much he takes after me I shouldn't be entirely surprised, but when it comes to the daredevil department, he usually takes after his daddy in sitting things out. Shame on me for boxing him into that mold! He rode all of the rides with ease and absolutely love the roller coaster. "Mommy, I was very scared but I'm brave and I liked it! Can we go again?" Now don't worry, I didn't stick my kid on some huge monster coaster -- it was designed for little kids. He loved being thrown around. I couldn't be more thrilled!

By the end of the day we had ridden pretty much every ride Johnny was tall enough to get on. We played some games (he really kicked butt at the baseball one!) and won some prizes. By the time we got him back in the car, he was nodding off. He was out before we even got back on the highway. Lizzie had spoiled him with extra presents and when he woke as we pulled into the driveway, he began running around with a toy microphone and singing about his "special park". 

I'm taking him to Lakemont Park (in Altoona) in a few weeks with Grammy. 

Coming up with summer activities we can participate in without an extra adult on hand has been hard. He's been going to Vacation Bible School all week for 2 hours in the evening, but it has taken us almost as long to drop him off and then drag him out. He doesn't wanna go, then he doesn't wanna leave. It doesn't help that the entire experience started off with a misspelled name tag (meltdown) and it took until yesterday (day 4 of 5) to finally arrive with one that was printed correctly. And you can't write it by hand on a blank one because then it isn't printed like everyone else. Which, in all fairness, is legit. I looked into other churches doing VBS other weeks during the summer, but I don't know that I trust any of them to handle him. At his current one (hosted by Grace Lutheran, the church Steve grew up in that we as a family attended until last winter) is full of enough people who I know personally. Chalk it up to trust issues on my part, but I don't think we will be attending any other Bible Schools. 

Maybe his new TSS will be able do help us with some community activities? There are a ton to join in on, but I'll need an extra hand.