Monday Weight: 250.7
Today sucked serious a$$. And not because of my weight. I’m actually pleased it’s holding pretty steady with all the chocolate I’ve been inhaling.
BamBam had ABA at home while Zoo Keeper went to science camp. BamBam did well with his therapist, but was pretty whiney with me. That’s not such a big deal, though. The problems actually started around noon when we picked ZooKeeper up from camp. It wasn’t as organized this week, meaning the teacher just kind of let all of the families in to the crowded room rather than having the kids sit at tables while their parents come to the door one at a time to sign them out like they did last week. Total chaos in the room. Zoo Keeper is a dawdler in the best of circumstances, but put him in a loud, chaotic, crowded room and it’s totally deer meets headlights time. The lights are on, but Zoo Keeper’s not home. And he was way across the room from me, so I couldn’t get his attention. I could only watch as he sat there with wide eyes and then finally got up and threw away the paper towels that he needed to wrap his petrie dish in. I shouted to the teacher to please give him some paper towels and I shouted at Zoo Keeper to take them, but the two of them just sort of danced around each other without acknowledging the other’s presence. It would have been funny and oddly beautiful had I not been haunted by the fact that BamBam’s school bus gets to our house at 12:15 and I was certain we would be late. Speaking of BamBam, he was running in circles around the room sliding between the people like a motorcycle on a crowded freeway.
I finally got them both out of there and in the car with the petrie dish wrapped in the paper towels, though it still managed to drip on the floor of my car. We pulled up to our house at 12:15 on the dot to find the bus waiting for us, so I slammed the car into park, grabbed the boys out, and got BamBam on the bus in time. Whew.
The time while BamBam was gone was annoying, if uneventful, due to the fact that Zoo Keeper is apparently unable to stop talking to me and requiring answers from me while in my presence. And we were late getting out to the bus to get BamBam off because Zoo Keeper decided he should tell me he needed his poopy diaper changed right as I told him I was going outside to wait for the bus. So the bus was waiting when I made it outside and the driver made some comment about me taking a nap. I think I may have been in overshare territory when I told him that I’d been changing a poopy diaper (on my obviously six year old son) because he got really quiet after that.
Zoo Keeper wanted to go out front and ride his bike, so the three of us went out. Zoo Keeper doesn’t really ride his bike, or his tricycle which is actually what he pulled out of the garage, because he can’t work the pedals. He just pushes with his feet. BamBam does the same thing, though I’ve seen him ride a trike at his OT’s office, so he can do it.
Anyway, we go out front and I can see that a couple of our neighbors up the street are out front with their kids as well. These are very nice women and I like them very much. Their kids are great, too. On nice evenings, the moms sit out front and have margaritas while the kids run around and play. They’ve invited me to join them many, many times, but I’ve only done it once. I’m afraid they probably think I’m anti-social. That’s not entirely wrong, I don’t think my tendency toward introversion is any big secret here, but it’s not the reason I don’t join them. As I said, I like them and hope they don’t give up on asking me.
But it was kind of painful to sit with them and watch their kids play. It was painful today, too, because my kids don’t play like that. I took a book out front with me this afternoon, but I didn’t get to open it. I knew I wouldn’t, but I cling to hope that this will be the time that the boys don’t require my attention every second. That one day I will blink my eyes and find that they’ve miraculously become independent enough to not require constant supervision and intervention. Today was not that day. The same way that tonight will not be a night that I join my friendly neighbors for margaritas. It’s painful to watch their carefree kids running between houses while my kids have to already be in bed. They’re in bed because that’s the routine and you DO NOT mess with their routine.
I’m not suggesting that my neighbors’ lives are easy. I’m sure that’s not true. Nor am I saying my kids are a burden. They’re not. My kids are wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. But it’s difficult to watch other kids have the carefree lives my boys should also have. I don’t think about it so much when it’s just us going through the motions of our life. My boys do have fun and they are carefree sometimes. Their version of carefree fun is just different from that of typical kids. And that’s okay. But on days that have already been hard, witnessing the play of typical kids makes me ache down deep in my bones with a wish that I could wipe that difference away.
Plus it’s hot here. I do not like hot. I had enough hot for a lifetime when I lived in Texas, where it’s already upwards of 80F at 6am.
Living here, at least it cools off in the evenings. So I got that going for me, which is nice.
Oh you poor thing. FGBVs. Some days are just too much. Not for any particular reason or crisis, it’s just too much of the same damn thing. I totally get everything you wrote. I would not trade my kids or the life I’ve chosen with them for anything in the world, but some times– sometimes I just wish I could catch a freakin’ break. My kids do not have your challenges, but the constant attention to them, I understand that. Rosebud is three feet from me right now, but if she gets quiet, I have to stop what I’m doing and go check on her. She’s probably fine. But she could be choking. Or, I don’t know, have her head stuck under the couch or something. There is no rest for moms who have to be “on” 24/7. And not the margarita drinking, relaxed but watchful kind of on. For you and me, on is hand-on, mind sharp and action at the ready. It’s exhausting. You’re not alone. I hope writing it out helped a bit. Hang in there. I’m sure it’s no help, but I think the way you put your kids above everything is completely awesome!
That is so hard! I know you must ache for your boys when you see other kids scamper around easily and without the challenges that your sons have to struggle with every minute.
My wish for you is a chance to read, to shower, to breathe and drink coffee, whatever frees you for a few minutes. The constant demands of your darling kids are a joy to you, I know, but they also wear on the sanity.
To a much much lesser extent, I had the class from hell last spring and they couldn’t let me sit down on my chair to grade I had to grade on a clipboard while standing at their desks because they needed constant attention. But, you know, they left on buses at 3pm.
hugs.
ps you were polite but I screamed “suck it!” at the bus driver in your post for you
WEBS, and an extra PNW hug, cuz we’re geographically close like that.
Michelle, you have such a gift for narrative and I so appreciate the courage it takes to share your life and times with the world. You make it easy to know what I should be praying for you, your husband and your little ones. Sending love and warmest regards for peace and endurance.
Thank you, Brian. That means a lot coming from you. I hope that you are still writing.
This blog helps me process my feelings, but it also allows me to share my life with people I care about who are far away. Or long ago. I still find it weird to run into people I haven’t seen for a while and have them ask me about something that happened that morning. Weird in a good way, though. Like my boys.
I remember the McCarthy boys being weird in that way, too. 🙂
Agree with Brian, so well written, dear one. The May girl and boy that I knew a long time ago were never “quirky”, but “normal” and still needy at times but nothing like what you describe. I want to help but it doesn’t work logistically. “Hang in there” doesn’t quite describe what I am feeling for you..