The well is running dry

February 8, 2011 at 5:22 am 7 comments

     This move has not been an easy one. Numerous reasons come to mind; all of them too mundane and detailed to bother with here. But suffice it to say we are all more than just a little homesick for lands west of the Mississippi. We’ve lived in seven cities in almost fourteen years, and while I usually enjoy starting over, I’m over it now. Still, there are great positives, and we know that. I expect in a few short months, we’ll settle in and start to love it. And if not, we’ll suffer through it for a few years until we feel like we can head back to the frontier.

     Husband and I aren’t spring chickens anymore, and my own health, while far more stable than it was a year ago (see here), is still presenting challenges. Basically, I’m tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. I keep wondering when life with C will get easier – and there are a great many things with him that are, in fact, easy – but the continuing challenges have taken their toll. I fully recognize that by the time I am done redirecting, correcting, motivating, corralling (is that even a word?), herding, guiding, planning, figuring, and, let us face it downright nagging, there is little left of me to be fun Mom. I tell myself perhaps I expect too much of C, but when I’m spent just getting him out of bed and out the door in the morning, there’s a problem.

     On one hand, this delightful child of mine is driving me downright Bat.Poop.Crazy. at the moment, and on the other hand, my tolerance level is low. Very low. Extremely low. You all know me; I don’t complain about my kid. I know raising a child, any child, is difficult. And I know raising a child like mine is beyond difficult, but I’m not a parent who feels short-changed with the child I was given. I feel lucky to have him, blessed to be entrusted with him, and generally feel slightly sorry for parents with typical children because I imagine it must be somewhat boring. Yet at the moment, I’m just spent, and I’m not really sure how to re-engage.

     I’m annoyed before I even get C up, because for the first time in his life I actually have to wake him in order to get to school on time, and he is not fun to rouse. I devised a routine where I take Dog into C’s room, plop him on top of C and let Dog lick C awake. Dog is old, really old, and I wonder how long he will be with us. What then? I wonder. And then I get annoyed because C can’t just get up like any other kid. No, I have to get him up happy, or the day is shot. And then this annoys me – all the hoops I have to jump through just to make things happen for C.

     Yes, I am a control freak. This I know. But having the child I have has furthered that trait to an obsession of which I am not proud. Yes, I do things to accommodate my child not only for his happiness, but for my own as well. If he’s happy, I’m happy. When he’s not happy, everyone pays, and pays dearly. And that payment is just not worth it to me anymore; I have no well left from which to draw.

     It’s a slippery slope here. This I know. But I just can’t seem to get any traction.

Entry filed under: autism. Tags: , , , , , , , , , .

Happy sad Spongebob strikes again

7 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg  |  February 8, 2011 at 6:52 am

    I’m so sorry that you are feeling so exhausted. I can definitely relate. In fact, your post is very timely for me, because I’ve been dealing with the same quandary about myself that you’ve been dealing with concerning C: I love myself as I am, abilities, disabilities, ups, downs, joys, and difficulties—and yet, I feel very tired and low these days, and I wish it weren’t so damned hard. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t.

    What I’m realizing is that I’ve got this picture in my head of “Someday, it won’t be difficult. Someday, it will get much easier.” And I’m finding that much of my exhaustion comes over holding on desperately to that picture in my head of how things “should” be instead of getting right with the way things actually are right now. I’ve got to find a better, more sustainable, more spiritual way of handling the difficulties, because sometimes, as you’re finding, there is no ready solution. You just have to deal with what is, every day, which is the hardest thing in the world.

    I’m reminded of something that Mother Teresa said about the work of the Missionaries of Charity in dealing with the people on the streets of Calcutta. She said that what the missionaries do is, humanly speaking, out of the question. It’s completely absurd, and yet they are able to do it, because they tap into the divine force. The help, she said, has to come from above. I think that’s the only place to go here.

  • 2. therocchronicles  |  February 8, 2011 at 7:26 am

    I’ve been thinking about you guys, wondering how you were faring over here on this coast as I prepare to head to AZ to see my parents this weekend. It’s amazing how often I can just totally relate to your posts. I was JUST thinking this week that the hoop jumping is getting awful tiring. There is no “even” with the Roc. It’s either happy or unhappy and there are so many things that can sway him between the two. I don’t know how to disentangle myself from being the one who can “fix” his moods….I desperately want him to be able to work through things himself–but EVERYTHING is such a big deal! I take big gulps of air when he gets on the bus, and wish it wasn’t so difficult to get him out the door.

    I guess the point of this comment is just “I know”

    I get it. Thinking of you.

  • 3. Patty  |  February 8, 2011 at 1:43 pm

    Oh, I so know what you mean about feeling like you are jumping through hoops. I have felt that so many times, especially with my oldest son. And it is never easy when you are exhausted AND have just moved! I am amazed at your positive attitude!

    I sure hope you feel better soon.

  • 4. Liz Coyne  |  February 8, 2011 at 2:45 pm

    Here, here, I feel it too. The shear exhaustion of it all. But I have to try to support you a little here — don’t be too hard on yourself. You just moved, it’s a horrible stress. I hope you’ll find someway to find an emotional get-away.

  • 5. tiredmama  |  February 8, 2011 at 8:34 pm

    Wow. I think you read my mind. I have been feeling like this lately. I hope you find some traction on your slope!

  • 6. Lizbeth  |  February 9, 2011 at 9:36 am

    Hi there–I just found you via Laura’s blog (thank you L) and we moved out of state a little over a year ago. It sucked, the kids hated me, I hated me and everything tanked. I’m not telling you this to sink you even deeper–NO–but to tell you, you have support where you least likely suspect…and it will get better–cyber hugs–L.

  • 7. Shivon  |  February 12, 2011 at 11:42 am

    I know we say this all of the time, but one would swear our boys are one in the same. It is crazy to me how parallel our lives are. I am sending you a big hug and wishes that this will al get easier….


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