Sunday, March 9, 2008


Never, ever be too positive.
No, you go ahead, I was really making a "note to self."
Self, shut your happy mouth, and just complain a little.
This is my mantra, my MO, my core belief, and yet I still manage to screw it up all the time, and, whammy zammy, kaboom, the dieties smite me.
So Friday the rooster had his first ever floor time, and it seemed to go well. My husband felt it informed him, he had stategies to suggest to me, and the therapist shared some valuable observations about our boy, who seemed to handle it in stride. It made me feel hopeful. A picture of shared floortime with Sweet D across the street began to emerge as a promising aid to our current struggles. AND THEN I WENT AND SAID ALL THAT CRAP OUT LOUD, AND RUINED THE REST OF THE WEEKEND.
Let me put it another way: if you ever read anything I write and your inner voice judges me as a negative, self-absorbed cry baby, that won't bother me not even one single smidge. On the other hand, if you find yourself noting my remarkable air of optimism and faith, I hope you smack me when you find me, and you can probably find me hiding in a bomb shelter somewhere. Positive. Does. NOT. Work. For. Me.
The rooster spent this weekend spitting, hitting, kicking, throwing, grabbing, taunting, screaming, insulting, refusing, demanding, struggling, battling, hurting. To me, all his signs read, "DON'T YOU DARE THINK YOU CAN CONTROL ME!!!" Floortime, sadly, had its blowback.
I tried to love it out of him, and it didn't work at all. I tried to get tough, and that was as laughable as it sounds. I tried using "techniques" I've read about, and guess what. So now I will bow to the deities.
My husband has long mocked this core belief of mine, this relationship I have with the spirits who despise me. He uses a mocking tone to ask me about "the motes" - but I've seen him once or twice make the same gesture I do to wave them off after accidentally saying, "This is great!" or "I think they'll probably offer me the job!" Deep inside I think he knows that it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you (I mean me).
And why do I think I'm special enough to warrant my own diety posse? One theory I haven't ruled out goes like this: When I was little, I was sick a lot. (Big surprise, genetically speaking, right?) My mom didn't expect me to live, because the doctors told her not to get her hopes up. A couple of times she came home to find the sitter and me inside an ambulance, and one of those times, the paramedic said into his radio, "We have an infant, female, dead on arrival." Somehow they revived me, and I'm guessing that the dieties are still pissed off. They said, "Okay, go ahead. Live. But don't SMIRK about it." So.
Deities, everything feels sucky right now. The days are long, the nights are long, rest time is brief and largely interrupted, and I am scared, scared, scared. J and I are lost and confused and overwhelmed, and each and every single day a new fear grips at us. We take a lot of abuse and have very little fun. Our confidence level looks worse than the economy. We are two intelligent, educated people without a clue. In four years, we've aged the way presidents do, until my reflection actually startles me most mornings, when I bother to look at it. We make admissions about our darkest feelings, and the bare truth burns me with shame. Our rooster can be a very hard person to like. Rage seems to smolder within him. I do not really want to get out of bed tomorrow morning. I do not really feel like I have what it takes to lather, rinse, repeat. I am here, but I don't know where. I hurt from the inside out. My head throbs endlessly.
Deities, are you happy now?


Joeymom said...

***HUGS*** He'll adjust to the change. Have you tried giving him some choices? Might make him feel more in control, reduce some frustration. On the other hand, it could be overwhelming, you'd know better than I. Lots of hugs. And I'll have a chat with the deities. I was a religion major, I can do that. ;)

Niksmom said...

Oh G, this makes my heart ache for you this morning. I'm (usually) pretty good at positive so I'll hold onto those positive good-energy vibes for you. I'll put them out to the universe.

That said, I have some thoughts which may or may not be helpful or even applicable. Feel free to completely ignore them all ...but know that they are coming from a pure place.

1. Is Rooster currently on ANY medications on a regular basis. I don't necessarily mean any neuro meds...ANY meds. If so, is it possible that some of his behavior is driven by that? Worth looking into EVERY possibility.

2. Food allergies/sensitivities? Seriously. If Nik has too much dairy protein he exhibits very odd, near-catatonic behavior with lots of finger flicking...which he never does any other time. Similar with too much wheat/gluten.

3. How well does Rooster communicate; I mean in terms of do you think he makes his wants/needs understood consistently? I know that one of the biggest drivers of Nik's worst behaviors is extreme frustration over (a) not being uderstood or (b) not being abe to achieve an intended result from a toy or object. (e.g., if he wants to dump his gian t toy bucket over the kitchen gate and it falls back into the play room...he loses it.)

I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I **truly** believe that so many of our kids' worst behaviors stem from soeme sort of communication and/pr frustration issue. If you can view it in this light and try to analyze what he might be trying to communicate it might be a way to help diffuse some of it.

All that said, don't hold back when you see the DevPed (is it this week?)...s/he needs the fullest picture to be able to help you.

I know I keep saying it, but you are not alone and there's lots of us out here in blog-land thinking good thoughts, sending positive vibes, prayers, you name it...for you, for Rooster, for your family.

gretchen said...

Don't hate me for being optimistic, but the tide is ready to turn for you. It HAS to be.

I wish I could help. If there's a bare minimum you can do to try to keep everyone happy- just do it. (Like at my house it might be let Henry watch one dvd after another and eat cereal out of the box all day long in his pajamas while I drink coffee for 4-5 hours and then switch to wine...)

Anonymous said...

Yeah. Sometimes it sucks. Simple as that.

But, things change all the time. Sometimes even for the better. And bit by bit, it will get easier for both of you.

When we started therapy, back when my son was about 3, I remember the psychologist who evaluated him (a wonderful woman) said "Trust me, this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

It took me a long time to understand or to believe her, to give in to the suckiness of it all. I figured, we're in therapy, it's only going to get better. I was wrong. She was right. But from rock bottom, we began to claw our way out.

Hang in there.


ghkcole said...

it cracks me up that i spelled deities "dieties." very revealing of my relationship with food? huh. i used to scorn and mock people too lazy to spell check. now i do not skorn or moc them enymoor.