Not My Day

I’ve resorted to two Xanax today.  Can I just leave it at that?

I don’t feel like going into details now, but suffice it to say that drop-off with Rex today was unpleasant.  He has a new lawyer and a new swagger to go with it.  He’s feeling cocky, so I’m suddenly very insecure, and when I emailed my lawyer with a couple questions, I got an Out-of-Office auto-reply saying nobody’s there until September 7.  An entire week for Labor Day?!  It wouldn’t bother me as much if it didn’t seem like I get Out-of-Office replies from their office all the time.  They’re never in on Fridays and always leave early on Thursdays.  I’m really hoping that’s a summer thing and that after Labor Day, they will be a lot more available.  Please?

I could really use somebody to pat me on the back and say, “Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay.”  Not happening though.

A Window Cracked Open

I’m referring to that adage that says, “When a door closes, a window somewhere will open.”   A big door has closed in my life, yes indeed.  But if it weren’t for that, it also wouldn’t be for this…

I’ve been writing another blog on the side (Sorry, dear Dissolutionment, I’m not a one-blog kinda gal!).  It charts my progress doing drawing lessons with Cindy Wider at DrawPj.com.  I hadn’t really shared it with anybody except a few family members who are required to love and accept me no matter how much of a beginner I am.  But I linked to DrawPJ enough times that Cindy Wider found it, liked it, and tweeted it!

That was so much fun, but then it got even better.   Cindy invited me to study more intensely under her Mentorship Program, and even to participate in her Instructor Training Program– so that I could ultimately teach her fabulous curriculum.  I love her philosophy, and the course has helped me learn so much that I would love to bring the same happiness to others someday.  And of course I’m honored that Cindy thinks I’m capable and hard-working enough to achieve that eventually.

Big Mama Pride

Mimo took swimming lessons at the Community Center this summer, but wasn’t progressing much because he hated getting his face wet, and I didn’t push him, afraid that it would only worsen matters and turn him off to swimming entirely.  I slowly realized that as his partner in the water, I was becoming his biggest impediment.  How I dreaded the idea of dunking him against his will!  But his swim teacher believed that he had all the skills necessary to swim, and that his reluctance was purely psychological.  Totally understandable and normal, but also purely psychological– and not insurmountable.

So I brought the swim teacher in for private lessons, keeping myself out-of-the-way and watching the action secretly from the kitchen window.  The first day was horrible.  I’d pep-talked him as best I could, but finally there came the moment when I had to leave him alone with the teacher, and he was none too pleased.  He cried virtually the entire time, and was screaming out for mommy.  Heartbreaking.  Lesson two was a bit better.  He cried, but not as much.  Then came our practice session together.  First we played in the water for a while and then, to give him some notice, I said, “In two minutes we’re going to start practicing swimming.”  He said, “Want to practice now.”  I couldn’t believe it.  So I thought we’d start with the “easier” stuff, the arm motions rather than the dunking but, no, he announced that he wanted to go straight to dunking.  More disbelief.

Finally, at lesson three, though he was a little shaky and worried beforehand, as soon as he was in the water, he embraced it completely.  No crying, no fighting it at all.  He swam to the wall and back many times from the distance of four or five feet.  I’m amazed by his bravery and his rapid progress.  I didn’t realize how much we was capable of, and I’m so impressed.

He also has an amazing swim teacher.  Here they are:

I promised him that when he gets back from Daddy’s, we’ll go for a night swim.  That’s going to be great!

Sing Out Loud Fridays! “What It’s Like” by Everlast

This great song for singing out loud comes thanks to my friend, Bobbi, and it sure is a good one:

Here’s a story about a town where singing out loud is banned, so don’t belt out this tune if you live there!

Parenting Weak Spot

So, here’s the scenario in which I am most likely to lose my cool with Mimo:

I’m making a meal in the kitchen while Mimo sits on the island bar stool with his water bottle and a matchbox car, or whatever toy is his current favorite. There is lovely music in the background and we are both cheerful and chatty. Suddenly, he accidentally knocks over his water bottle, and absolutely freaks out.

“MOMMY CLEAN IT UP!!!” he yells. This challenges me on several levels:

1) I don’t appreciate it when my child orders me to do something (who does!?) and typically I just tell him that he needs to do it himself or ask nicely. But in this scenario, it’s not that easy because….

2) I’m reminded of all the times Rex would similarly freak out if anything spilled or got dropped. The psychiatrist said this was a common reaction for someone with OCPD. Rex would order me to get a “spill towel” (spill towels were located in each and every cupboard or linen closet in the house so that you’d always have one close at hand), and he’d be waiting by the spill with a stern look on his face and his arm outstretched, like a relay runner waiting for the baton. I’d have to run over with the spill towel (baton) and pass it to him as quickly as I could so that he could frantically clean it up– even if it was just water. Obviously, it’s important to clean up spills promptly, but the drama around it was always absurdly ridiculous. So when Mimo behaves this way, it really triggers the memories of these unpleasant experiences.

3) I’m paranoid that Mimo has inherited OCPD, and so when he reacts like this, frankly it freaks me out. I understand that it’s common for toddlers to behave in some compulsive ways, and he’s probably completely normal, but I can’t help but feel worried about it.

So, how do I react in this scenario? Not very well, to be honest. As soon as he yells, “MOMMY CLEAN IT UP!!” I say “DON’T YELL AT ME!!” practically yelling myself. Great example I am. And then I clean up the mess as quickly as I can in order to end his (and therefore my) distress.

I was talking with a friend who happens to be a family and child psychologist. She made the observation that Mimo has perhaps learned this behavior from his dad, and that he’s far too young to have any personality disorders. So the best thing I can do is to provide him with an alternative to the Rex reaction, and to be extremely calm and mellow when the spill happens, and not even necessarily clean it up immediately. I should say something like, “Okay, no problem at all, we’ll clean it up in a minute, as soon as I finish buttering your toast.”

Now, the question is, can I actually pull that off? It’s what I’ll be trying to do next time. Any other tips for handling this scenario would be much appreciated!

A Bizarre Form of Writer’s Block

I sit here next to my sweaty, sleeping little boy waiting for the A/C repairman (my house is 94 degrees), relieved to finally be writing again. It’s been a long time since I’ve posted, partly because I visited relatives in Colorado for a week and then I moved back into my house. But I’ve also been experiencing a strange form of writer’s block through all this. Before I left for my trip, I planned to write about one thing, but then I arrived in Colorado and it seemed more relevant to write about a new thing. Then I couldn’t decide where to start, and shortly I had yet another idea… but WAIT! I never wrote that first thing down, gotta do that one first… and so on and so forth, and before I knew it I had about five half-formed ideas and I just became overwhelmed and couldn’t write about any of them. Which kind of goes against one the principles I’d established for myself regarding this blog: don’t worry so much about what I’m writing or how long it is or whether or not it’s good enough– just write it dammit!

So I thought I might get out of this situation by at least writing down the titles of these would-be posts. Maybe the headlines are enough to convey what’s been going on anyway, and then it’s like hitting reset and I can move forward. So here they are:

Two Nights in a Row Without My Mimo
Traveling is Easier as a Single Mother (When Your Ex is Rex)
Visiting Perfecto-Relatives When Your Own Family is Broken
So Happy to be Back in My Own House
I’m Really Bad at Flirting
Rex Not Responding to Petitions

That pretty much summarizes it. Perhaps it’s better to have this form of writer’s block, where at least there’s no dearth of ideas. On the other hand, maybe it’s worse this way, because it’s extremely frustrating to have specific things you want to say and then not be able to get them out. I guess both are bad because, to apply the over-used fertility metaphor, it’s like barrenness vs. miscarriages– either way you have no baby, and it sucks.

A/C guy just showed up, gotta go.