I Am That Mother

Call me Mother of the Year.

I've been contemplating this for awhile now, and I'm still not sure I should write it. But I've been asked how things are going, and this is the best way I can describe my thoughts and feelings.

I AM THAT MOTHER
- who deals with temper tantrums in public.
- who endures your stares and comments rather than let my son see that you sit in judgement of his lack of control.
- who leaves every playdate early because my son is overstimulated.
- who cannot understand my son's lack of self-control.
- who cries with the knowledge that whatever I do is never enough.
- who fights with insecurity on a daily basis.

I AM THAT MOTHER
- who's husband supports me every day.
- who wakes up every morning to my son's hugs and kisses.
- who is grateful beyond words to family, friends, and Peanut's teacher.
- who knows this is but one step of a worthwhile journey.
- who sees my son's brilliance every day.
- who is finding my voice as my son's advocate.
- who will never give up on my son.

Call me Mother of the Year.

The Pros and Cons of Motherhood

Call me Mother of the Year.

After going to the doctor for a checkup last night (all is well, no worries) and discussing parenthood with my doctor, I realized that in no other time of my life has the good been so completely mixed with the annoying. I tried to point this out to Boomer, and, since I am much better with writing than speaking this, a blog was born.

PRO: Watching Peanut attack Easter Baskets. This was deeply entertaining for Boomer and I. Peanut's teacher suggested a game of hot & cold as we hid baskets, and Peanut loved this. We were laughing at my small son's joy, and a great time was had here. Plus, Peanut had the added joy of STUFF. New STUFF. And small amounts of candy. My thanks to various grandparents who took pity on me and left the sugar out of Easter.

CON: Easter grass. Seriously, who came up with this pile of nonsense? I noticed that those who have young children left this out of Peanut's basket, and I'm grateful. Those who didn't are forcing me to wonder what I did that was so heinous that caused them to think, "hmmm, she deserves to have wisps of brightly colored plastic strewn all over her house"? Granted, the dog looks much prettier with it in his paws, but he's a bit perturbed with his new look. As am I. I've been sweeping for two hours and I'm still finding this mess all over my house. My payback will be swift next year.

The best part of Easter was watching Boy Wonder attack the Easter egg hunt... and having Boomer take Peanut for this adventure. I got to relax with family and enjoy a few moments of quiet. Until Peanut came barreling in with his haul. I hope your Easter was as enjoyable as mine. Pros and cons mixed together.

Call me Mother of the Year.

The Next Step

Call me Mother of the Year.

At the end of a week that looks suspiciously like the roller coasters I'm doing my best to avoid, we finally have some good news. Peanut behaved wonderfully for his teachers today- no temper tantrums, no hitting, no time outs. And we've had a call from a specialist regarding Boy Wonder's Asperger treatment.

Those who know me by a different name know that I haven't had the best experience with doctors thus far. In fact, I ended up (politely, thank you) pointing out one psychologist's lack of communication to the point that she drove fifty miles out of her way to make things up to me. Therefore, I wasn't surprised to make calls yesterday and get a wrong department, hung up on, and finally, the right person's voice mail. I was, however, shocked to receive a call today from the doctor requesting my time for intake and getting Peanut set up for further evaluation. After only one day. I'm kind of in shock here. Kind of.

So I've been given a date and time to be at my phone and have Peanut otherwise occupied. Shouldn't be a problem. I know mostly what's going to be asked, and we can go from there. I'm rejoicing. And bundling up, because with good behavior comes a bike ride.

Call me Mother of the Year.