Parenting contradiction #2049

Part of the job of raising little humans is training them out of bad behaviors and into good ones, or at least attempting to do so.  There is a judgement each parent makes with their little ones -- what should be changed?  What is fine as it is?  It is a troublesome line to walk.  On the one hand we as parents want our children to feel completely loved just the way they are while almost simultaneously we press upon them our desire for improvements.    It is a curious juxtaposition of "You are so awesome!" and "But let's work on x!".  The latter makes a lie of the former, acknowledging implicitly that there is some aspect that falls short of awesome.

The push for learning and changing is probably part of every parent child relationship but perhaps none more so than in the case of high functioning autistic children.  Sometimes their very proximity to the norm increases the ambition to get them there, as if they were a puzzle piece that almost fit.  If it was a radically different piece you wouldn't even imagine trying to make the fit, but since it's pretty close you are sometimes tempted to hammer it in.

I worry about this.  Our Little Guy has had so many different kinds of therapy -- all amounting to "learn! change!".  It's gotten him where he is today -- able to participate in life in a way not vastly different than his typically developing peers.   I see the obvious importance of Little Guy improving basic skills.  I hate the message behind it that feels less and less hidden the older he grows.  All I can do is keep reminding him that we do love him completely just the way he is, even as we seek to change him.

poof!

I spent most of the day struggling with a disappointment.  It was one of those disappointments that is connected to a long chain of past disappointments.  A minor thing all by itself but connected to that chain my sadness had became a weighty thing.  Hubby did nice sweet things to cheer me up that made me smile but the feeling would not stay in my heart.  Not yet.  I was in a funk I could not get out of.

I was still wiping away stray tears when I went to pick up Little Guy from school.  Then through his open classroom door I spotted Little Guy walking to me, a grin on his handsome little face. *POOF!* My heart lifted.  Just the sight of him and his joy dispelled my gloom and made me okay again.  He's a magical creature, my son.  Both my sons.

bookahol

My preferred method of reading is from cover to cover with short interruptions for food and water.  I am not a chapter-a-day kind of person.  Or rather, I am not a willing chapter-a-day person.  I have small children and usually, to my immense frustration, that is just how it works out. Having a Kindle has greatly improved the situation - Baby Boy can cuddle on my lap, slowly waking up and I can read.  When he is older Baby Boy will be a huge coffee drinker but in the meantime he likes 10-15 minutes on Mommy's lap while he adjusts to the waking world.  

Baby Boy is almost 3 now (yeah, he really needs a new blog name) and there are no longer numerous stretches of lap time for feeding and he only needs wake-up cuddles twice a day.  Luckily, there is this device called a television and with it I am able to achieve some more satisfying stretches of reading - the entire length of Cars, Toy Story or Lady and the Tramp if I am lucky.  I try to use this magical device sparingly, but every so often a long awaited book is released or received.  Or it is my birthday week.  Or I'm watching the kids by myself while Hubby is on a trip with his best buddies.  Since all 3 of these things happened last week I felt pretty justified in deploying the television and it's soldiers: PBS, NickJr and DisneyJr.

Alas, my birthday week is over.  Hubby is back from his trip.  I have two Ilona Andrews ebooks left unread but if I redeploy the soldiers now I will face a severe case of The Guilt.  So my bender is over and now I need to be a mature adult and put the books down before my family is forced to stage an intervention.  It is back to a half hour a day of much interrupted reading.  I'm a pretty fast reader so that should be at least a few chapters a day.  Self discipline, I hate you.

another story for his wedding

I woke up this morning to my husband asking angrily, "What have you done with your clothes?"

Good news: He wasn't talking to me.

Bad News: He was talking to Little Guy. Who was playing happily in his bedroom naked. And had made a poopy mess.

ah, pregnancy!

Yesterday morning I had noticeable, uncomfortable Braxton Hicks contractions. It brought back nice memories of Little Guy's birth -- distant memories of walking hospital halls with far worse contractions. Been a long long time since I felt those!

Then sometime last night I began to get that uncomfortable feeling like my lungs just don't have enough room to properly breathe. I huff and puff just going up and down the stairs sometimes. I'd forgotten about that!

The cherry on top is a developing love-hate relationship with sleep. As in, I would love to sleep 20 hrs a day. I hate not being able to sleep on my back and now that I've gotten larger it's getting harder and harder to be comfortable in any position, no matter the pillow configuration. The ratio of sleeping to not-sleeping is shifting. And this time I know...it will only keep shifting and not start turning around again until BabyTwo starts sleeping through the night, many moons from now.

I'm not complaining here, I'm observing. Observing with no small amount of joy and anticipation.

I settled on 2 day choices for our scheduled c-section and yesterday my mom bought her plane tickets for being with us through the big event.

I had a few extremely productive days this week when the need to nest overcame the need to sleep and I got a tremendous amount done. Babytwo's bassinet is sitting in our room waiting to be assembled. The changing table has been moved in there and awaits stocking. I need to go buy drawers so I can start unpacking all of Little Guy's baby clothes. I spend what seems like vast amounts of time onine selecting with great care which baby gear we need.

My mind is filled with preparing for an enormous and wonderful life change that is now less than 12 weeks away. We are SO not ready!

p.s. - I am freaking enormous! I cannot fathom how big I will be by the time this is done...

17 days

17 days have never been so long, but today's the day. If I wasn't pregnant I'd have a drink. If I didn't have a toddler I'd probably find my way to church to pray. Instead I will drink my half a cup of coffee and get us all ready to go, pretending all the while that the only challenge of the day will be keeping Little Guy from having a meltdown when he doesn't get his nap.

home bound

It's already getting to me and I know it will only get worse. Time to get on the ball about developing out of house pursuits. I'm really hoping to get some student time in this year. Man I wish Little Guy had a grandma up here to hang out with from time to time...

my favorite time of day

There are moments I experience as a mother that are beautiful beyond measure.

Every morning when I get my little guy out of his crib we come downstairs, wrap ourselves up in a blanket and lay on the couch. Even though he usually has been awake and playing for a while already, he still lays down and cuddles with me. Sometimes he goes back to sleep, and so do I. More often he just lays hugging me, plays with my hair and smiles sweetly up at me in loving adoration. After a while the call of the toys gets strong and he'll climb down to play.

What a wonderful way to start the day.

4

The number of times I had to stop on the way home from my mothers. To clean up my puking son. On the side of the road. By myself. Happy Mothers Day!

oh love

i am truly madly deeply in love with my husband. but i must confess i have another love...my precious little boy!

i am so in love with my son. and he is very sweetly in love with me. he gives me the best little hugs and kisses! he loves to spend time on my lap and when ever he's really happy about something he wants me to see it. when he lays his head on my shoulder and pats *me* on the back i know he is telling me how much he loves me.

these moments are all the sweeter because i know that soon i'll blink and he'll be telling me to drop him off around the corner from school, not kiss him in public, etc etc etc. and/or he'll want nothing to do with mom as he follows dad around trying to be a little man.

baby hugs...

are the best!

super powers

I've been surrounded my whole life by moms who make the gig look easy. These amazing woman worked, kept the house clean and the laundry fresh, put delicious dinners on the table and managed all household affairs all the while raising children. I, however, find this nearly impossible and I'm not even working full time. My house has not been top-to-bottom clean to my satisfaction since...ever. If my Grandma had her vision back and could actually see my home she would be appalled...I know she would! And laundry....I swear I did 8-10 loads of laundry last weekend, and no, I did not get it all done. And now there's fresh dirty stuff from this week. Dinners? Not very often. There is, however, a generous amount of take out consumed.

My only solace is a little poem given to me by my mother in law:

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait til tomorrow
for children grow up, I've learned to my sorrow
so quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep

It reminds me that although it sometimes seems intangible, I work my ass off from sunrise to sunset and frequently many hours in between. So maybe I'm just an ok housewife, but I am a good mother...and thats enough.