Sunday, November 14, 2010

Yet, I rise

Failure ran thick and fast and furious yesterday--almost fast enough to ruin the whole day.

Drama class went okay on Friday--at least I thought it did. Although Nic came out in the hallway to check on me frequently, he was happy to be there, and of course I know this is G's thing--he is really enjoying it. I say this because it is relevant to what happened next.

SO swimming, usually a good outing, went sour first. After failing to engage hubby ("What do you want me to do?" he asked before burying his nose back in the newspaper), I picked my things up and went for the door, holding my tears until I got outside the balcony. And then wondering where I was going. 'Pool deck,' said the inner voice.

AS a parent, I'm not supposed to go there, but between the steps and the girls' locker room I pulled myself together and became the hardest self I am in the face of Nic's intractability.

And it worked. Another ASD mom was down there, and I am sure she thinks I'm the biggest bitch on the planet for talking to my son the way I did. But I know when Nic gets in the headset that he was in, that THAT is the only thing he responds to--positively.

In other words, I become my own mother. I hated her when she did this to me, but decades later, I get it. And now I love her for it.

Anyway, we turned the session around. And I extracted a promise from him that he needed to do chores for me to make up for his behavior (and I am proud to say he did them).

Meanwhile, G was having his own meltdown. I was unable to do anything about that, but fortunately, the staff was able to turn it around, and by the time I righted Nic's boat, he was laughing with his teachers in the shallow end.

I took Andy and Nic home and then went with G to his penultimate soccer game. We were down three kids, so I moved G down, one of the K's up, and the K's got pounded. Which wouldn't have been quite so bad if G and one of his teammates didn't start fisticuffs in the last 5 minutes of the game. I spoke sharply to them both; G made a face at me, and the other kid ran off the field in tears.

I took G over and made him apologize and I apologized too. But I felt awful.

So I get home and find a phone message from the drama teacher. And I know what's coming; she wants me to take Nic out.

Deep breath, sit in my happy place, dial the number. Yes, it turns out that I am correct, but I talk her into letting Nic stay in, with the promise that I will more closely direct Nic and that he will help them put together the program, by interviewing all the kids (with my help). That's an hour of my life I will never get back, so I would like to think it made some difference to other kids like Nic she might encounter.

Worked with G on his Sunday school homework, then took the kids to soccer. It was good to see Nic play so well with his friends, and I loved how he sat with his team, joking and talking as he ate pizza with them afterward. They look just like any other bunch of kids having a good time. (and I wonder, why can't this happen at school for him? Why?)

Hubby insisted on going to mass with us after, even though he had work to do. And it's clear he has a lower set of expectations of them than I do. He brought in a book for G that he and Nic tussled with. I looked right at hubby and said, "aren't things hard enough, or do you really think you need to make it tougher for me?" He didn't answer, and I got Nic to follow the mass in its entirety despite the distraction. G, not so much, but I will have another opportunity next weekend.

I was exhausted by the time they headed out to the sleepover. Despite two offers to go out, I stayed in, made a fruit and cheese plate that I enjoyed with some wine, and watched The Big Lebowski. Today, I enjoy another glassblowing class and a beautiful fall day.

For everything else, I am simply recharging for the next round of battles. Because you know there will be plenty more.

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