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If You Need Me, I'll Be in the Corner - Curled Up in a Fetal Position

Posted Jun 05 2010 12:00am

Friday started off so promising. It was my kids last day of school, the first day of the church carnival, my girlfriend invited us to hang out with her - and I had a hair appt. I had my new computer - purchased for me for Mother's Day, bought on store credit - sitting on the table. I still had no Internet, but a tech was scheduled to arrive and repair. My three days without Internet had been tough, but the end was in sight.

It was pretty good, in other words. And it's AMAZING to me how incredibly quickly THAT went SOUTH.

I was ready to leave the house and I grabbed a cup of coffee on my way out. My daughter's boyfriend was over and he was on the sofa with my spectrum kiddo, and he stood up. She got upset, grabbed for him and missed, crying, and fell into me.

And knocked the cup of iced coffee that I was holding out of my hand, and I watched in horror as it fell ALL OVER THE BRAND NEW LAPTOP. The one I have yet to even make a payment on, the one I'd barely used, and as fast as I grabbed/dried/shook/prayed - I knew inside it wasn't enough.

And I took it to Best Buy and it was pronounced hosed, and as I left the store I knew it was coming.

THE UGLY CRY.

And it started in the parking lot and as I dialed my husband's phone number, the cry escalated and soon I was sobbing. The full on ugly cry, the one I haven't done since that fateful day last year when I had me my nervous breakdown and cried for a week straight.

See, I haven't really shared with you the fact that, as well as my spectrum kiddo does at school and with other people - she's a serious solid mess with me. And I know, I know, I've been told a bajillion times that I'm her comfort zone, she can let it out with me, blah, blah, blah. We have daily temper tantrums, screaming and crying, rapid mood swings that rival any PMS victim, and it's wearing me out. Add that to the end of school tossing a wrench in her carefully wrought out schedule and she's just driving me bananas. I worry about her, for this type of stuff isn't getting any better, isn't going away, and I worry about the future.

I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of being her mom. I'm tired of hearing that she's beautifully behaved for EVERYONE else and an absolute terror for me.

Yes. I said that. I know it makes me a bad mother. I don't care. My husband is never, ever, EVER here to spell me, my older kids in equal parts tolerate and avoid her, and I HATE being the safe place. And her fits are frequent, annoying, loud, and she'd just cost me a brand new computer with her temper.

I sat in the car and cried. I called my hubby and we made arrangements to go visit a friend whose husband does computer repair, and I cried all the way there. I'm tired. I'm the sole parent 99% of the day, my big kids fight all the time, my house is a disaster and no one else seems to care, and I'm just exhausted from dealing with so many people, so many problems, and trying to be all things for all people in this house.

I cried all over his friend's shoulder as she told me the story of her own special needs kid and she opened my eyes to many things I need to work on, both with my SPD kid and my big kids. Despite the fact that I've created chore charts, schedules and cleaning routines, I get very little help here, and an awful large amount of lip. I clean all the time, but my house is never clean - there's no way one person can keep up with 8. I have big plans and ideas for the summer, things I want to do both with my kids and for my kids and being a full time house cleaner and maid doesn't fit in with those plans. I drive people all over the flippin' land and now, thanks to one daughter's volunteer instructing this summer - that driving time grew again. 

I'm tired.

Saturday morning began with a plan to have a nice, calm, "Come to Jesus" meeting - and that didn't go so well. My husband made new rules that included cleaning the house before computer or tv time, and no more rides without help and before he left for work he instructed me to share them. Unfortunately, the meeting of the minds didn't mesh and it ended poorly - and then the phone rang.

My husband was involved in a car accident. In a company car.

It wasn't his fault, but it was still a car accident.While I was talking with him, the daughter who had the hives all week came downstairs furiously clawing at her arms, and I realized she was covered with them again, and complaining of a fierce sore throat to boot. Facts which necessitated an early morning trip to the pediatrician. To end with a negative strep test and a diagnosis of "hives, origin unknown".

But. While I was there, I took the time to talk to the doctor about my spectrum kid, and I asked for a recommendation to visit a behaviorist. Instead, she encouraged me to go back to the specialist that had originally diagnosed my kid. I feel good about that. I'm not sure if it will help, but at least being able to talk to someone about how hard this is and possibly glean some wisdom as to how to deal with her would be so nice.

I want to enjoy my kid. I don't want to cry again. I don't want to have other pieces of expensive equipment ruined by someone's temper tantrums.

And I need the rest of the family to chip in, to be less demanding, less self centered and more content with each other. To lose the fighting, the tattling, the physical retaliation, and the screaming.

I don't want to cry again.

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