about Carpe Diem: at least I’m seizing something
If you never read any more of this blog post of mine, you MUST, without fail, follow this link and read Glennon’s blog post.
I’m glad I took the kairos time (that will make more sense if you’ve read her post) to read this raw and beautifully written article. I think all parents should read it, but especially the parents of special needs children. Its message, I believe, goes further to affirm us as we face the very different challenges on a daily basis.
I get caught up in the guilt of not “enjoying every moment of their childhood before it’s too late.” I can’t honestly say I loooove parenting. It’s not my gift. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But it is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. I do loooove being a parent, or as Glennon says “having parented.” I have an influence on them, not just as their parent, but the one and only role of being their mother. I’m way far from perfect, but at the end of the day, I’m learning to pat myself on the back for getting though another day – for finding the one (it’s usually more than one but I like to set myself up for success) instance of hope, glimmer of beauty, evidence that something I tried to pass on actually did, proof that some therapy I paid for was worth its investment.
It reminds me of my favorite clip from the movie “The Back-up Plan.”
You know, when I really think about it though, I’m actually very lucky because statistically, I feel like I have more opportunities to seize moments of hope and beauty. On those days that I’m up to my eyeballs in tantrums, strewn legos, and broken computer peripherals and I look at the clock and it’s only 8:30 in the morning, I need that moment when I hear the distant, unprompted toilet flush. I don’t know if that makes sense or not. Maybe a story would help illustrate.
Today, we took The Skipper Dog to the vet. It was quite an intense appointment (about a different kind of seizing
), so both me and The Hub went and of course had to bring the kids. We left them in the lobby with the directions that they were in charge of only themselves, to make sure they made themselves make good choices. About after 15 minutes of being back with the vet, I heard The Elder screaming in the lobby. I went out there and he was sitting criss cross applesauce on the bench screaming:
E: “Y is touching me!”
M: (to The Younger) “Don’t touch him.”
Y: “But I want to sit here.”
M: (to The Elder) “Choose a different place to sit”
E: “But that place has a scary thing, and that place is too close to the vent, and that place is touching that plant, and that place is near the magazines.”The Younger couldn’t really top that so (with maternal encouragement) he moved to a chair on the other side of the lobby. I was able to return to the patient room without missing too much of the vet’s testing-results spiel.
Let’s list the obvious triumphs. (triumphs that I must say make me one proud mama!)
- I was comfortable leaving them both in the lobby (not without my super sonic ears open to eavesdrop on their every word)
- The appointment was nearly an hour long and I only had to intervene once.
- There was 15 minutes before the onset of the intervention.
- The intervention was pretty painless and straightforward.
Now the not-so-obvious triumphs.
- The Elder was sitting on the bench – and criss cross applesauce to boot. (This would be opposed to wallowing in the floor or running outside in the parking lot)
- He verbally expressed his case of why he should be allowed to remain where he was seated. (as opposed to physically expressing his case with his fist or teeth or saliva)
- The Younger complied on first request (not without whining, but without any oppositional defiance)
Finally the triumphs that could easily slip away if I wasn’t intentionally seizing them.
- The Elder had all of his clothes on, including his shoes.
- Both kids were wearing their glasses at all times.
Therefore in a single event, I’m able to seize greater than 100% more triumphant moments! Sometimes all I can walk away with is the fact that “Both kids were wearing their glasses at all times,” and sometimes I can’t even claim that moment and must settle for “We found their glasses before we left, flung atop the the silk tree in the lobby, and eventually repaired them, at no additional cost.” Maybe I’m crazy, but that makes me feel lucky!
about Life Skills: dining etiquette for a hopeful future
In 0.5 seconds… a teaspoon… with a quarter cup of rice and rib meat precariously balanced atop… racing toward his awaiting, gaping mouth about a foot away from his bowl… and his eye contact and attention are on the basement door as he tries to discern the sounds coming from the computer downstairs.
The Elder’s massive spoonfuls of grub being shoveled into his mouth at a high velocity rarely reaches the goal of getting food into his mouth as much as spilling it all over the table, chair, and floor. (Thank goodness we are at the point I can omit “walls” from that list!) I think his reasoning is “the faster I eat the sooner I can be done with this miserable task.” In this particular scenario I could probably tack on “and check out what’s happening on the computer.”
Those who have known him since birth know that motor skills and sensory defensiveness have not allowed him (or others in his vicinity) to enjoy how wonderful the experience of feedings can be. When it comes to meals that require utensils (mashed potatoes for some reason doesn’t fall under this category), he is actually a slow eater. He just stuffs it all in his cheeks like a chipmunk as fast as he can and then slowly swallows his food. It appears to be tactile foods like oatmeal or rice and boneless meat of the day (again I ponder why mashed potatoes aren’t on this list). Medicine also makes the cut to be swallowed slowly. Blech! It takes him so long to swallow a teaspoon of tylenol regardless of what flavor it is. But I digress…
I hope today is a turning point for this dilemma that has plagued our dinner table for years. I pray that we will have family dinners in the future of all of us sitting and eating together instead of one of us constantly asking if he can be excused before we’ve even started eating – or even have made it to the table!
As I watched that mountain of rice topple over (thank goodness back into his bowl!), The Ever Elusive Brilliance surfaced…
Brilliant Life Skill of the Day:
“If the food doesn’t fit in the spoon, then the bite is too big.”
I really wish I thought of this sooner. So simple. As soon as this logical explanation left my lips, I could see him reprogramming his brain and he began to process how much food was actually on his spoon. He not only slowed down to mentally calculate the food to spoon ratio, but he also significantly reduced the probability of speaking with his mouth full and we actually had a small conversation about Amazon.com.
We have also employed a number of other “tricks” to reduced the stress of mealtimes – a big one being “keeping them seated” since without that they were just grazers and “meals” were a fleeting concept. What trials have you encountered and how have you resolved them?
about Early Retirement: Bring on those dirty dishes
It is known that discipline, structure, and self-motivation have the potential to propel young ambitious ones to afford early retirement. But I have discovered the opposite is true…but with the early retirement of our dishwasher. Yes! Call me crazy. Demoting our dishwasher to a glorified dish rack has somehow brought out the discipline, structure, and self-motivation in my family. I might even dare say, it has brought order to our chaos. Well, at least for the kitchen.
It all began when I decided to “spring clean” our dishwasher. The door panel had stains (I’m hoping from coffee and tea) and crusties (displaced rice and grits, I pray) and really gross floaties swum around the bottom (don’t really wanna guess). I was able to do a really great job of scrubbing and making it shine and glisten… until I got to the floaties. I delegated that to The Hub as I suspected that the standing water was probably a sign of a clog and I wasn’t quite brave enough to venture there. It’s not as much OCD or germ-a-phobia than it is a tactile aversion. I was wearing heavy duty gloves but there are some tasks where only the imagination suffices to make me avoid it. In the meantime, I was not onboard with putting another dish in it for its intended use, not convinced it could fulfill its purpose. I’m sure I would’ve had nightmares about dishwasher floaties coming after me every evening until The Hub remedied the issue.
No dishwasher?!? Oh no! Not sure which nightmare was worse…
I reminded myself that washing dishes by hand is not a big deal. The Brothers and I had spent most of the summer at the beach in a small condo that had a dishwasher, but with just the three of us, we used so little dishes that it rarely got filled up to justify running it. It was actually more irritating to try to fill it up than it was to just go ahead and wash them. Besides, when I was growing up, my mom only used our dishwasher to blanch ears of corn. Washing the dishes by hand was just something that we did, often together. And when The Hub and I first got married and moved into our first apartment, we stored our plastic shopping bags in our dishwasher. I remember actually baking his birthday cake and hiding it in the dishwasher because I knew he would never look in there and accidentally find it before its debut. So a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, washing dishes by hand was my way of life.
So I decided I wouldn’t just succumb to washing the dishes myself…I decided to commit to washing the dishes myself.
It’s a scary commitment. It’s not like at the condo where I took the path of less irritation. On a baking day at the condo, it sure was nice to have the option of tossing them in the dishwasher and let it take care of the greasy or caked on mess. But once we were a family of four again and in non-vacay mode, the daily dishes and pans consumption had increased. And once we had returned to our 2 story home, corralling the dishes is more difficult. It was not uncommon to load a kitchen full of dishes, only to find another sinkful-worth of dishes scattered throughout the house. How would I ever keep up without the dishwasher?!? I think I had a mini panic attack as I faced my dilemma. This decision may have started out as necessity, but turned into an opportunity.
Changes which have occurred since the early retirement of our dishwasher:
- Discipline = Cleaner Kitchen Counter = Happy Mom = Happy Family
Before: Because we make our own bread, it seemed as if our counter was constantly littered with crumbs. But it also had its fair share of coffee/tea rings and other unidentified objects.
After: My mom taught me that after every dish-washing exercise I must wipe up the excess water in the surrounding area and the table and seats. Well, since I got the rag in my hand already, I might as well take care of all the counters and the stove to boot. It really doesn’t expend that much more time or energy especially since its 2-3x a day.
- Structure = Less Kitchen Counter Clutter = Happy Mom = Happy Family
Before: Dishes would pile up beginning at breakfast until right before bed when dishes got loaded into the dishwasher. Just looking at our inventory all day long was enervating.
After: Breakfast dishes get washed and are dry by the time lunch comes, when they just get reused. Ditto for dinner. I’m thinking about a serious inventory clearance sale in our future.
- Self-Motivation = Cleaner Kitchen Floor = Happy Mom = Happy Family
Before: We relied on The Skipper Dog to do the daily heavy lifting. But sometime the crumbs and the homemade gluten-free flour experiments got too entangled with his shed hair for him to successfully lap up.
After: The Hub has been bringing out the broom at night while I’m washing the dishes! On his own accord!
- The kids are bringing me their snack plates and clearing the table on their own now because they see I’m busy washing the dishes (and because there is less clutter they have a place to safely put them).
- I cook more. Even though it produces more dishes to wash. Maybe it’s the clutter-freeness of the counter that brings out the Rachel Ray in me. I do find myself being more efficient while cooking so as to minimize the number of dishes I wash.
- I’m hoping this will possibly reduce our energy bill and water bill.
There is no more standing water in the dishwasher from the clog. I’m not sure if The Hub fixed it, or just sucked it all up with the wet-vac, and I’m not sure if I want to know the truth because I don’t want to be tempted to cave.
