Just Peachy

Yesterday I had the kind of day with my children which swung like a pendulum from a) me feeling like I can knock down anything autism or sensory processing disorder happens to throw my way to b) me actually saying to Jeff, “I am completely effing up parenting. I don’t know how to raise these kids. The end.”

I don’t actually feel like reliving it, but the short version is this:

In the morning, Truman and I went to occupational therapy, where we saw my cousin Laurel and her little boy Shane, because apparently all the cool kids go to OT with Brynnen. There, we went over exactly why I am convinced that returning to school is going to throw Truman into both panic and despair, and neither of us is prepared for a repeat of first grade, with the daily sob-fests. Nope.

Normally, OT stresses me out. The homework is basically MY homework. Gather supplies. Create charts. Craft kits and graphs and visual organizers. BE extremely organized at all times! In fact, be clever and cute and fun about all the things that already exhaust you, hooray!

This time, most of the prep work for Operation Second Grade Go! still falls to me, but for some crazy reason, I’m not stressed. I’m mostly glad to have an actual game plan to avoid the weepy, clingy, emotionally soul-sucking mornings.

We left and I called the elementary school for a 504, got on Amazon and bought everything Truman needs for his portable classroom sensory integration “Break Bucket,” and announced to Jeff that through a combination of planning, preparation, and refusal to be sucked into a fear vortex, this back-to-school will be better. Dangit.

That was the Rocky/stairs/punch/victory/thing moment.

Come evening, however, a certain other child turned into a real life psycho over our family’s no-sleepover policy. The vibe of the household was basically YIKES. Nothing I said to this child stuck for him.

He eventually did let me give him a hug and then Jeff asked him if he wanted to paint our bathroom for a little bit. We (meaning Jeff) are painting over the (hideous) purple walls which have graced our master bathroom lo these 14 years. We (meaning both Jeff and me) hate it, yet we haven’t changed it until now, hahahahaha. Guys, this is the actual truth about what special-needs parenting does to you.

Brief aside: we’ve had the purple walls the whole time we’ve lived here, which is so long that now I literally don’t even see the purple. It’s not even there for me. It has disappeared, fading into the background because I apparently refuse to acknowledge it. I guess??? Someone explain this phenomenon to me please.

Jeff is the superior parent in knowing what this certain child needs. Or maybe it’s just that he stays much calmer than me in the face of meltdowns. Anyway, painting the bathroom was just the ticket for deescalating said child. After working for awhile, the kid cleaned out the paintbrush and said, solemnly, to me, “I think I forgot to eat dinner.”

This explained the entire disaster evening.

It also reminded me that autism plus summer breaks minus the rigor of an elite prep boarding school which we don’t have here at Chez Goates equals everybody is falling apart once we hit late July.

We have been too free-form, and it’s time to reimpose a more rigorous routine.

In other news, today was better. I ate two really beautiful peaches. I worked out, which always makes me grumpy while side planking at the beginning but also makes me euphoric while stretching at the end. I’m taking back our routine from the ennui of summer.

Please tell me about your summer day? I hope it includes good parts amid the bad parts. And peaches.

  2 comments for “Just Peachy

  1. Jeni
    July 31, 2019 at 10:04 pm

    We don’t have sleepovers either so I feel just an inkling of your pain with that argument. However, a certain teen and his back door friend have been sleeping in their hammocks hung just this side of the back fence because they are still in their own yards so technically it’s not a sleepover. I’ve decided this is not a hill I’m willing to die on and you know, summer.

  2. Julie M
    August 1, 2019 at 11:03 pm

    My summer day yesterday: My tween daughter nominated me as her Royal Highness, the WORST Mother in the World, seconded it, and carried the motion all by herself. Then she instigated rebellions and riots in an attempt to overthrow the tyranny. My crime? I woke her up. I made her go with the family to her twin brother’s OT and play games while we waited. I took them all to Costco and fed her the world’s best hotdog and as many samples we could track down.

    There were no peaches for me yesterday, but I’ve had peaches before and I’ll have them again.

    Until then, people assure me that I’m not doing my job right unless I’m crowned Worst Mother in the World at least occasionally. I’ve always wanted a tiara so I guess I’ll take it.

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