Clingy!

After almost three days of outstanding behavior, I had high expectations for today with T. The past few Fridays we've had great success with outings, so today when the Clingy Monster reared his head I felt irritated and let down. Sometimes my son can be so baffling!

We started our outing to the mall with the usual complaints and requests to stay home, but with the aid of gummy letters we made it into the car and out of the driveway.  At almost every outing, we push over this hump.  Once I get past the prelude of protests, obsessive questions, and general mischief, our outings become fun and pleasant. Tyoma's anxiety threshold varies, so each outing I am prepared to brave a certain amount of bellyaching to reach the payoff. Today, he complained more than usual and reward of fun seemed rather far off.

I had trouble adjusting to Tyoma's inattentiveness  and persistent disapproval. I think I felt frazzled by the inquisition in the car over digital and analogue clocks. At the mall, I was taking some deep breaths and working hard to ignore the looks from the mothers of calm kids. During one of those breaths, I noticed Tyoma was more relaxed at the mall than last week, when he seemed a bit wild eyed. He glided over to his favorite mosaic of tiles, happily pointing out north, south, east and west (the mosaic looks like and octogram), smiling and seeking me out for approval.

 The walk to Chick Fila was stimulating. Tyoma pointed out sale numbers in store windows and eventually became so distracted by them that I needed to scoot him along. He came along obligingly and even waited patiently as I ordered for us. Seated overlooking the big mall clock we inhaled our respective meals. I was pleased to that he gobbled up all of his chicken and fruit with out my needing to nag.

We negotiated a trip to the bathroom for me (he hates the motorized hand-driers). In the bathroom stall he loudly asked me if he could flush away my pee.  I chuckled and said "Sure, flush away." I might have been embarrassed, but some part of my brain collapsed ten minutes earlier and I okay with it. Next ,we dropped by GAP Kids to pick up spring/summer t-shirts. There be trouble.

GAP Kids is a great store since their shirts are soft, tagless and have large neck holes. Oh! And their dressing rooms have two-foot tall numbers on them. A trip in the store is a treat for T.  Unless, of course, the music is set to "stupefy." Once inside, he started running around and touching everything.  His plan was to mortify me into taking him out of the too-loud store.  I knew this routine all too well.

At my request, the sales lady turned off the music and Tyoma recovered enough to look at selected shirts. It took two gummies rewards for patience, but he assented to the purchase of four shirts. He also asked for a frilly yellow skirt.  I replied that he can choose frilly things in high school,  but for now he wears boy clothes.  My exasperated delivery elicited a smile form our cashier. As an additional treat, he picked out two pairs of skull socks for mastering the art of putting on his socks.  I briefly considered looking for pants but discounted the idea,  whizzing out of the store for escalator and elevator rides.

After enough elevator rides to confuse me as to which floor we were on,  we left the mall.  Tyoma pleaded for a Toys R Us visit, but I feared over-stimulation.  We dropped into the nearby Barnes and Noble and had a snack in the quiet Starbucks cafe area.  I could see other patrons wince as we selected our seats.  I remained brave, reminded T to use his "Number 2 Voice" and saw everyone relax. Our snack was lovely and refreshing. T was calm and introspective. We  talked quietly and ate briskly.

Since Tyoma still wanted to look at toys, we dropped by the Toy Spot, which is closing in a week.  I should have gone straight home, but foolishly I went.  All had gone so well, that I forgot our initial high complaint level. The store had been re-organized and was populated by manic kindergartners and their bargain hunting mothers. Still, I stayed. D'oh. 

There was an inevitable meltdown over a "100" poster, which I would have gotten if not for the demanding way he asked for it. He was just too overloaded. We took a break, bought a "make your own board game" and went home.

T was cheery in the car and we set up a pretend race between us and papa (who was coming home early today) to see who got home first. Our evening was unremarkable except for a bedtime meltdown. Tyoma is rarely tearful at night, so I felt guilty for overstimulating. Sometimes I have trouble knowing just when to push and when to pull back. On another day, our outing would have been fun and energizing, just not today. I began to beat myself up, agonizing over my decisions and fretting that I made the evening difficult for the whole household.  Seriously, I can't be perfect all the time, but I will try to be more mindful of T's stress level.

Is it odd that I expect perfection? A perfect day without meltdown or conflicts? Look at my home.  It's about as perfect as I can make it--almost white glove clean. It is as organized as a home can be without being The Official House of OCD. I long to be flexible and forgiving to myself , but at the same time as I berate, I analyze and build an understanding coping with a behavior. I don't have a feel like other professionals--Ashley, Heather or Jerri. Is something not quite right with me? Why can't I tell what's going on as it unfolds?  Why do I rely on the data I keep, filed away and categorized for specific situations and not intuition? Maybe I am not too far reminder from spectrum myself.

I Just Remembered...

I can't believe this. Last night as I was going to bed and pushing out thoughts of, "I've been depressed for years!" and remembering periods of feeling ill; I recalled that I was treated with anti-depressants in my early teens. I even remembered the medication name, Triavil, with blue triangular pills. Holy cow. I hadn't been sleeping and was missing school. I had no energy. I felt sad and took no pleasure in any of the stuff I loved. I was up all night and when I did sleep, I'd sleep until late afternoon. I was in bad shape. I was thirteen.I felt so tired. My folks took me to the doctor (it had been weeks of this) who prescribed meds to "help me sleep."  I had forgotten this entire incident of my life.

Distinctly, I recall my mother telling me that the medication was an antidepressant, but that it was only for sleep. In fact, she emphasized this to me so clearly, that I thought it odd at the time. I was to take the medication every night for several weeks and see the doctor again. Withing six weeks I was weaned off of it and never followed up on the mediction. Huhn. I have a family history of depression, bipolar and schizophrenia on both sides. In retrospect, my mother must have been scared for me and perhaps a bit resistant to the idea that I had depression.

All through school, high school, college, others labled my "problems" as nerves and stress. This does make a certain amount of sense, since I am "high strung" just  like my dad. We are two anxious peas in a pod. I "did too much" or "tried too hard." Shit, I wasn't doing too much, I was frantically fighting off the symptoms of depression (which I never recognized). Nevertheless, I had an intuition that if I stopped, inertia would strand me in bed and I would never be able to shake off the weight holding me there. I felt so unbelievably tired.

Eventually, I'd get a flu or a cold and I would stop and it seemed like my scrabbling was too feeble to push the exhaustion away. My pattern for some twenty years of schooling has been, doing okay, doing okay, anxiety, anxiety, agitated depression and then clinical depression.

Swimming!

Today has been one of the warmest days of late, and not too rainy. I took Tyoma out for a little swim and was spied by our neighbor Amdy who waved us over to play. Tyoma completely ignored her and her son, but was captivated by Lily, the three year old over for a playdate. I chatted a bit with Amy, feeling akward and insincere. I had a catcher in the rye moment where I felt like a total fraud. Exchanging platitudes with Amy bored me and I felt she could see how disingenuous I felt. Highschool returned for a moment. Will some part of me always sulk, wearing heavy black eyeliner and somber goth garb, feeling alienated? The notion started to sink in and settle, depressing me, but I shook it off. Ultimately, I realized what a blessing it is to have intelligent and unusual friends. My soul does not belong to a suburban soccer mom! Bring on the quirky intellectuals, Dungeon Masters and fellow nerds! Some cheery pics of Sqirmy D. I was quite proud when he started reading her son's shirt, astounding her completely and perhaps guarenteeing that we will forever be excluded from their barbecues!

Tanya Arrives

Tanya arrives from Moscow today.  I hope that our visit goes well, I expect so since there is so much I need to do and her help will allow me to get stuff done without taxing Tyoma.  He does not like to shop or go out much.

I can't believe that we are mostly moved in! I was able to get so much done when mom was here, but a multitude of boxes still remain, unopened, unorganized.

I feel so scatter-brained.  The hardest part of moving is finding a new permanent place for all the stuff we use.  I can't keep track of my car keys, purse or scissors since they don't have a "place" yet.  this is so frustrating.  It will all come together, but it's harder than you think to know all of the places in your new home and to transmit onto this new space a map of where your old stuff used to go. Labels. I need lists and labels!

Month O' Lists

I can't keep up with all the lists I have been making, they will likely fill a few spiral bound note-books!  there is so much to do!

In a way, it is so liberating to feel the importance of the move and upcoming change in our lives.  The lists I am making are so pragmatic and functional, without uncertainty.  I love having schedules and lists, knowing when things are supposed to happen and just how I am going to get through them.  This is so much better than the endless unknown that we have been coping with these past five years.

Ah, regularity! I embrace you!  How nice to not be compelled to google horrible pregnancy scenarios or endless job searches. Life is packing up boxes, taping, them and putting on lables. Sweet!

Little Animal

I slunk into Tyoma's room to nab the dirty laundry I forgot to pick up before I put him to sleep.  The light and my rummaging partially woke him. I hear little grunts and the crinkly rustling of the waterproof mattress pad.  Instantly I was transported to a different place.

His room became a grotto, filled with animal smells, heavy dark  and dampness. I looked at his crib as if it were a cage and he was some strange little zoo creature to be stared at. The alien-animal feel of my son was so strong, that it was simultaneously humorous and unnerving.  It is so easy to forget in our world of words, skyscrapers and sidewalks that we are still animals.