Aware and Sharing

Over February vacation, Nate had an appointment to meet with his psychiatrist. He was none too pleased about this event. He whined, "Moooooooom! I'm on vacation! I shouldn't HAVE to go to see Josephine!" Our schedule (mostly due to my conflicts as of late) is usually jammed packed and I had him earlier in the vacation week. It was the only time we were able to see her that month. He sulked most of the car ride over and was in a rotten mood when we arrived. 

Josephine was able to take us in early, which was wonderful. The less time we have to dawdle, the less time Nathan has to perseverate on the fact that he's in a place he doesn't want to be. 

He gets in the room and I feel him shut himself off from her, from the situation, from everyone. It was like he was completely encased in ice. He gave goofy and non committing answers to simple questions. He repeated, "Can I go now?" about 30 times.  Nate said that I am not to ask any questions about him. Each time I would attempt to speak with his psychiatrist, he would talk over us loudly, sabotaging any attempt to help him.  It was extremely frustrating to not have this session be fruitful. He asked to go to the bathroom, which at that point was a welcome reprieve. 

We chatted as quickly as we could. Our concern was his lack of sharing his feelings and his needs. The Risperidone was addressing the anxiety somewhat, but not the openness we were hoping for. In his neuropsych eval in January, the psychologist mentioned that he was showing some very early signs of depression, which I had noticed, too.  I mentioned this to Josephine, and she had similar fears. Risperidone is used off label for kids on the spectrum for use to curb anxiety. It didn't seem to be working with Nate as we both would have liked. She felt at this time that Nate may benefit from and SSRI. SSRI's given to younger children can sometimes cause them to have suicidal thoughts and/or psychotic behaviors and episodes. 

I'm nervous, of course. Last thing I need is Nate coming into my bedroom at night with a big kitchen knife or him being completely despondent and running out into traffic. On the other hand, he's so sad and withdrawn. It's becoming more of a challenge to get through to my son.  There's that fear that creeps into my heart: Am I doing the right thing? Am I screwing up my kid? What's going to benefit him right now? 

I trust in his psychiatrist. She has a knack of what children need crafts her recommendations accordingly. She said the low dose of the SSRI (specifically Celexa) will be the anxiety medicine of choice. She'll keep him on the Risperidone for now and slowly wean him off.  A prescription is drafted and sent off to our pharmacy for filling. 

The next day, I have given Nate his daily schedule. I tell him that we are going for a walk in the woods. He says, "Mom, I don't like going outside." I ask him, "Why?" He says, "Mom, when I go out, I'm always afraid that I'm going to get lost or someone is not going to come and get me." I am dumbfounded. I cannot believe that Nate shared something with me. Regaining my composure I tell him, "We're going on a very safe trail, straight with lots of markers to guide us. I'll have my phone with me in case we need it." He said, "Okay, let's go."

We have many walking trails near where we live. It's really quite lovely and a way that I spend my time to ease my stress and anxiety. It was an unseasonably warm day, sunny and cheerful. We got walking sticks on the way in. He was looking around and observing his surroundings. We found some pinecones and played a little eco-baseball. Sounds of trees bending and swaying in the wind and late winter birds enclosed us into this small bubble of being. We started talking. 

A reciprocal conversation began between us. Almost as if the organic nature of our landscape compelled us to speak.  In our chat, I discovered that his weak spelling skills prevents him from handwriting better. This was another area that I have been desperately trying to reach through to my son. He was always so closed off, like he was buried behind an old wall in a Victorian house. But on this walk, he wasn't afraid to be open with me. 

He stopped on the trail and said, "Mom, I'm sharing my feelings. And I like that. I'm happy to share my feelings." I looked at my son and couldn't believe the gentle growing giant that was before me. As usual, my heart could not process the overwhelming flood of emotions and I started to well up. I hugged my son to me, who's almost past my chin in height, and whispered how incredibly proud I was of him this day and every day. He hugged back, really hugged back, which is rare. His physical affection is generally reciprocated by force, as those close to him gently demand repayment. I filed that hug in my permanent memory banks. 

As we are reaching the two week mark before we go back to visit Josephine, he has changed in remarkable ways. He expressed a desire to be an archaeologist and to dig for bones and crystals. I picked him up a gem/rock guide, a small bag of rocks for him to look up and an amethyst cluster for him to "dig" out of a brick of plaster. His reaction was so big, happy and animated. He covered me with kisses and hugs. He's initiated listening to our audio book from the library and is really engrossed in the mystery. He's been more flexible when it comes to our schedule, which is chaotic at best. He also told me that he hates shopping with me because I get too "distracted." Guilty. As. Charged. 

The most important is that he's sharing what he feels. He's learning that feelings are not bad, or shameful or wrong. Knowing that he's safe and there are people there to guide him is a huge need for him, but he was unable to verbalize it until now. I am very thankful that he has these tools to enable him to be the tremendous kid that he has every morsel of potential to be.

Now if I can get him to keep his clothes from ending up on the floor, too...

Awwww....NUTS!

New Year's Night we were sitting on the couch and eating some home made trail mix. Home made meaning I scoured through the cabinets to see what I could find that to feed my hungry beast. I had some sunflower seeds, raisins, dry roasted peanuts and walnuts. The walnuts were the newest to the mix for us. He has eaten a variety of nuts, including almonds, cashews and pistachios. Loves them all. It's a great snack for him to munch on, easy to transport and gives him protein and good fats. 

As we're watching Mythbusters and he's snacking away, Nate says, "Hey Mom, my lips feel funny."  I take a look at him and don't think much of it. I figure he's saying that he's having a sensory issue and he and I go on eating. 

5 minutes later, I look over to him and he looks like THIS: 

I shook my head like they do in cartoons when you're not believing what you're seeing. His lips were puffy and red, his eyes all watery and swollen, his cheeks chubby like a rabid squirrel. At this point, I'm not entirely sure he's having an allergic reaction, but I'm going through the symptoms in my head and it's kind of clicking that it is. I'm also trying to deal with the fact that my child looks like Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka, but minus the purple hue. 

I call his pediatrician and they call back within 5 minutes. I describe all the symptoms and tell him that Nathan has had peanuts before and has never had any reactions to any sort of nut or tree nut. The doctor asks if Nathan is having troubles breathing and Nate does look like he's struggling a little to get air. 

The doctor call says, "You need to go to the ER."

Nathan and I go into ER mode (we unfortunately are experts at getting ready to head to the Hospital). We quickly throw on shoes and socks, grab our go bag (full of snacks, books and other things) and jump in the car. 

Nate is trying not to freak out as his face gets bigger and more itchy. I'm frantically trying to call people to tell them we're on our way to the hospital. We arrive there in about 20 minutes and they take him back to triage quickly. 

They ask him the regular questions about what he's allergic to and I'm scratching my head as to why he's having this spontaneous reaction. 

They cannot tell what's he's allergic to at the ER. They give him two doses of Orapred, which he tolerates in some orange juice. They do not give him a script for an Epi-Pen. They send us home and instruct us to make an appointment to see his pediatrician as soon as possible. 

We go to the doctor two days later, as they were closed Monday after the holiday. The doctor checks him out and recommends seeing an allergist to discover what he is truly allergic to. In the meantime, we are told to not expose him to any nuts of any kind. My mind is blown as Nate's favorite snack is peanuts. He loves peanuts and peanut butter. He eats it out of the jar with a spoon. When he was two, I left him alone with his father one morning. Nate had been watching his Dad eat some peanut butter out of the jar. I told his father to watch out because Nate was going to get it all over him. I return not 10 minutes later with a TOTALLY covered in delicious peanut butter 2 year 

old.

Fast forward to today.

Nate with his many dots of DOOM!

We went to the allergist today. This is totally new territory to me. I don't speak their language and their terms are foreign to me. I knew I had to catch on pretty fast, but don't want to yes them to death. If Nate has an allergy, I need to learn all I can. 

Mooooom, they're torturing meeeeee!! (kidding)

The nurses look at him first and do a breathing test, check his height and weight and ask if he's allergic to any medications. The doctor comes in as we're exploring the human nasal cavities. He asks Nathan and I some questions about why we're here, what he was exposed to, the reactions, etc. 

They thought he may have Oral Allergy Syndrome , but they said the scratch test would confirm it if he had no skin reaction. They tested him with a control (histamine) and then exposed him to nuts and environmental allergens.

This is his right arm. The X in the picture marks the control, which is histamine. He reacted to it.

 Here is our culprit!!

Ladies and gentleman, Juglans Regia ..aka  WALNUTS.

Yes, Nate is allergic to walnuts. In a big way. He's also allergic to dust mites. All those nights where he would want a nose strip because he couldn't breathe. Yeah, those dust mites...

So now, in addition to being a special needs mom, I'm also an allergy mom. But I will not be a crazy allergy or special needs mom. There needs to be a balance. Right now, we're doing allergy preparedness. New pillows, sheets and dust mite covers have to be purchased. Zyrtec has been prescribed to help with the stuffiness. His Epi-pen is at school, at home and at his after school program. (Nate likes to call it the EPIC pen.) He has a chance of being allergic to hazelnuts and almonds, as they are of the same type of nuts.(deciduous, yes, I learned something today)  He learned how to give himself an injection, and I know how to give him one, too. He was not afraid to learn. 

As we left, I didn't see a shred of fear in him. I saw him absorbing what was going on to him and how he was reacting to it. He went with the flow, to which I was so very very proud. The TinTin book helped, too, I think. :) 

 

Opening Doors

I've been spending a good deal of time going over 2011 and what a truly amazing year I've had. It was not all unicorns and glitter (shouldn't it always be? Lol!), but it was a year of tremendous and powerful change. 

I've been reluctant to let it go. It's such a glorious feeling.  If I could bottle it up and save it, to remind myself of how far I've come..I would. I know I cannot, and  must move on, but the fact that I did this on my own power (with  super support from my best friend) is something I want to revel in just a little bit longer. 

I spent the last quarter reviewing what was NOT working in my life. What was driving me crazy, what was giving me stress, what was making me slow down, what was keeping me from connecting to people.  How freeing this was to make  what appeared to be monumental hurdles just disappear with a simple email or a conversation. It's made such a difference in my life in a short period of time. I looked closer inward, to see where else I needed to make changes.

I think being around the corner from 40 makes me review this life a bit more closely, too.  

I've been in therapy to deal with my past traumas, which still haunt me. It has been slow going, and at points very painful and sad. I am so thankful for what this intense therapy has been doing for me. It made me realize that I had things, emotions, situations which were behind big locked doors. Similar to Marley, I was burdened with all the keys to these doors which I had hidden away these memories, but not shelved them properly. I couldn't give away the keys. I certainly couldn't deal with all of these events on my own, and they would saturate my thoughts and cloud my thinking. 

Through this therapy, we have been addressing each issue, one by one, and shelving the memory instead of letting it float. Shelving gives it place, which relieves it of its "ghostly" powers. I have a long way to go, but it has made such an impact and change. I am less burdened with the keys and doors of past pain. 

New Years has been a difficult time for me, too. I had a bad New Year's a few years ago and have let the day slide by without celebrating it since. All I could think about was how this one event had totally ruined my New Years forever. I wanted to punish myself every year by NOT celebrating and not digging up what brought me here.  This year, and very recently,  I have chosen to let go of this memory and replace it with a new one. My boy and I will be going on an adventure, spontaneous and exciting. I have no idea where we will go or what we will do, but I'll be with my son and we're going to celebrate it together. 

“Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams, 
Now I wash the gum from your eyes, 
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light 
and of every moment of your life” 
― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Where we're at...

It's been too long away from the words, from the people here. I feel like I'm travelling in a foreign country, and I don't speak the language. Yet, I am pulled, called to spill my experiences and feelings. 

Nate is doing very well in school, despite much prodding on my part. He doesn't have the inclination to do any type of work that doesn't come to him either easily or that is lacking the immediate satisfaction of something stimulating. It's a huge challenge to keep him focused on any sort of goal that doesn't have a quick return on investment.  However, something has helped us speak on a different and more productive level. 

After reading this book, I realized that we were not talking to each other, we were talking at each other. We discovered that punishment (i.e. taking away his video games) does not work, it's actually makes things so much harder. I don't want this post to be a review of the book, which I could very easily do, but I want to highly encourage it as a new tool in your arsenal of things to try with your children. I could see that Nate and I were like ships passing each other in the night, aware of each others presence, but not truly noticing what was going on and not able to find a way to navigate differently. This has given us that power. At least for now. 

I do not claim that this will always work. I think that's the caveat with always building up your parenting reserves. You have this confidence that it will consistently be effective, then the moment comes when it does not and you're dumbstruck for a few weeks to find a new solution. That's where we were about 2 months back. 

It's been a strange and happy accident, this sudden and magical micro transformation between us. We have been talking kindly, being more aware of each other's needs and feelings, working to be more flexible, having actual moments of "normal" parent/child bonding. I likened it to that moment in "Awakenings" when Robert Di Niro walked over to his mother and smiled and gave her a hug after years of being catatonic. We've reached across this gigantic divide to touch each other in a place I didn't think we could. I shudder to think that we won't have this ever again. I'm holding it so close to my heart and building a place in my brain for it to always be there for me to access whenever I choose. Perhaps I'm being unrealistic and subjective, but when you feel you have never truly connected that way with your child and then you do, you never, ever want to let go. 

We're off for his neuro psychological evaluation tomorrow morning. They are checking to see where he is and see if the diagnosis is still valid. There was a part of me that was afraid of what they will say. That they'll change his diagnosis and then we'll be set adrift and have no services and things will get exponentially harder. I know we are very blessed and very lucky to have all the services that we have in place. I don't want to ponder the possibilities of NOT having them. I cannot control the outcome and I will deal with what ever the results are. It's funny that I don't know how I would react if they took a diagnosis or possibly both of them away. We've identified this way for so long. Worked so hard in this vein to advocate for what we've been told he has and what I as a growing therapist have observed as objectively and factually as a loving advocate mother can. Changing the diagnosis won't change the way I feel about him, but I would almost feel betrayed if we are told something different. Like my instincts and the psychologist's instincts and anyone else in the mental health community who has seen him and observed him in some capacity are told that they are wrong. That there eyes, training, skills and instincts were off. That's a hard storm to weather, at least for me. But I know that I cannot weather a storm that has not been predicted, so I must stay strong in knowing what I do know until the report is other wise...

This year has been a huge transformation for me, without me planning it on being so. From my first steps into January, still full of doubt and anxiety, to the end of July where I felt my personal journey of self exploration was complete to mid November where I find myself not complete and nursing my long neglected personal trauma and slowly shelving those memories away, where they belong. In between there lies old jobs left, new jobs found, debts paid, friendships tested and strengthened. I have been humbled in some very close and dear friends who have been aiding me on this journey. It's some of the most painful emotional steps I have ever experienced. It is not a sudden landing, this healing, it is a long sojourn. I am thankful to finally have started this path to my recovery. 

I thank you for reading this blog. I used to do this because I thought I wanted notoriety and recognition. My intent is to share my experiences with the Universe and hope that maybe one person takes something and it makes them smile, laugh or perhaps change their perspective. 

That's where I'm at..

Hey Mr. Sandman...

Nate has usually been a good sleeper. At 6 weeks, he slept through the night, much to my chagrin and surprise. After my body had become accustomed to waking up at 2 AM, the first time he didn't make those tell tale cries, I was CONVINCED he was dead. Accustomed being me NOT sleeping. At All. For 6 weeks. In my half awake stupor,  I ran into his room and saw him blissfully asleep, snoring like a sawmill.

Speaking of dying, and sleeping, and not sleeping...

Nate has been going through this phase where I put him to bed, and not even 10 minutes later, he's in my lap crying. I ask him what's wrong and he says, "Mom, I'm going to die. I don't want to die. I don't want you to die. I want to live forever." His face scrunches up and the tears fill up his eyes...

We've had this discussion before. We've talked about that he's here now, he is safe, I am safe. Nothing is happening to either one of us right now. He can't focus on the right now. He's seeing lightyears into the future and it makes him very sad. Tonight he said my life was half over. I did my best to distract him with his stuffed panda bear to take his mind away from these very intense feelings. 

This is very normal behavior for kids his age. They will have these moments where they realize that yes, life is not infinite. Its pretty darn scary for them. I have tried to allay his fears in the moment. The "dreams" (aka anxiety) have repeated enough that a trip to the psychologist/psychiatrist was already scheduled, and was very needed. 

His psychiatrist asked him some questions and he admitted he's having these "dreams" more often than he used to. He was afraid to tell me, as to not worry me. She listened to him intently and we spoke for a while about his sleep habits, what's happening at school, etc. I honestly thought he was starting to process the divorce. He laughed at me when I asked him, "Mom, no, that's silly!" 

We've upped his Risperidone to 1.o mcg instead of .5 at night to help him sleep and deal with what appears to be overwhelming anxiety. I hooked up the sound machine again, which seemed to really help his mind calm down and focus on just the sound in his room instead of the sounds in his head.

 I feel so bad for him, I truly do. I KNOW what that feels like. I had similar thoughts and fears at exactly his age and I got no support, no understanding. At night, I also need a white noise machine. It would sometimes take me over an hour to fall asleep, with my thoughts buzzing in my brain like a hive of nervous bees.  I know he doesn't have the coping skills yet to handle those kind of anxiety inducing thoughts. My ultimate hope is that he will be able to do it, on his own and with out medication. 

For now...he's sleeping very soundly, with a symphony of artificial crickets lulling him into (hopefully) REM sleep tonight...

Anyone Can Use The Force

The force is strong with you, young padawan...

I saw this story on OffBeat Bride. No, I'm not getting married, but I like to look at all the pretty pictures and see different folks and their fancy and unique wedding attire. 

However, I read this article and had to share it.  Here is a little excerpt: (taken with permission from Ariel Stallings of OffBeat Empire)
 

"T, the flower girl, had spent the morning hiding under the bed. She has autism, and the prospect of an event with all those people was pretty daunting. T's aunty finally coaxed her out from under the bed with the promise of a Yoda backpack."

I felt SO strongly for this little girl and for this family...reading about how they wanted this adorable flowergirl in their wedding, but her autism can make every day a struggle, never mind an important day. Her aunt (Bless her soul, truly) figured out how to related to T on her level and make her comfortable. 

I won't share the whole story, as you can read it HERE. I know there are times when life with autism can be down right exhausting and the LAST thing that you need to/want to/have to deal with is your child having a meltdown on an important day. Sometimes, no matter how much planning you do or how much you prepare them, things can end up with your little one under the bed. 

I applaud this aunt who took the time to make this child feel included, special and comfortable on what would have been a very daunting and overwhelming day otherwise. And don't think I did not miss the mentoring undertones of the backpack either. We all need a little aid, a kind & sage voice in our ear encouraging us to be brave in the face of fear. Take a look at the picture above and tell me you do not see calmness and safety in that cherubic face...

"My ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is..."

Allons-Y!

A few weeks back, I got a smart phone. I was pretty happy with my regular cell phone which got texts, pictures, and calls. I never had a need for one, until I had gotten a voicemail from my now new employer who said, "I left you a voice mail and also sent you an email thinking you'd get it faster on your phone."

Do you know the feeling when your stomach drops out of your abdomen and onto your shoes? Yeah, that one. I had it. 

I sheepishly replied, "I don't have one of those phones..."

I had always wanted a phone like that, but didn't think it was for me. I mean, I wasn't a big technology kind of girl. I like somethings to be updated and new (like my makeup, holla!) but phones? As long as people can get to me and I can call 911 in an emergency, I was good. 

I pondered for a while if I wanted one or if I needed one. I couldn't truly decide between the two, so I said, "What the heck?" I bit the bullet.

I love this phone. I got a certified pre-owned Samsung Fascinate i5oo Galaxy class. It is a sweet machine. One of the amazing things on it is the camera. I started clicking pictures right away. One of the first ones was this, my Nate after Hurricane Irene: 

My friend Trish comments on Facebook with this:

• T:  He's got Tenth Doctor Hair!
  

  August 30 at 8:21pm · 
• 
  

  Asperger Ninja:  Ahaha! All he needs is a bowtie!
  

  August 30 at 8:48pm · 

Now, Trish is a graphic artist. She sends me this a few minutes later..

My child, the 12th Doctor? It could TOTALLY happen! 

I'm new to the Dr. Who phenomenon. I remember my father watching Dr. Who back in the late 70's. I know, you're probably all saying, "WHAT?! Mr. D watched Dr. Who?!?"

Well...he probably didn't LIKE Dr. Who, but it was right before Wild Kingdom, so he'd watch it anyway..

 I like to thank my fellow Whovian, who has gotten me into watching the Doctor and eating Jelly Babies..

Fish sticks and custard, yo!

What does Asperger's look like?

What does Asperger's Syndrome look like?

According to WebMD: People with Asperger's syndrome may not make eye contact when speaking with someone. They may have trouble using facial expressions and gestures, and understanding body language.

National Institutes of Health:  problems with non-verbal communication, including the restricted use of gestures, limited or inappropriate facial expressions, or a peculiar, stiff gaze.

There is a perception that children with Autism have a flat affect and cannot express themselves verbally or socially.  People see what they want to see. They look at the name. With a name they don't look beyond the textbook definition of what's in front of them. Most people need labels to define persons, places or things. 

  Look at the magic that dances behind my son's eyes.  That is childlike wonder and merriment. He is happy, joyful, goofy and creative. 

He doesn't fit under any one column or category. He strives to carve a place for himself and to BE him. That's his goal. My goal is to help him do that. 

My child has labels. He's a geek, a nerd, a Pokemon fan, a Lego builder, a videogame master.  He has Asperger's Syndrome and ADHD.  However, the label I use most and like best is he is my son. 

Regardless of what he has, and any struggles that we face, once you get beyond all of the noise; there is that small quiet space that you created together when you were carrying your young. That space you retreat to when it is bed time and it's that special moment for snuggles and silly jokes and hearing that little creature you made breathe. That's  what matters most. 

That is love. 

Testing...Testing...

 

Just when I think I have a grasp of things, I get thrown a meteor. Both of us have been slogging through what feels like a quagmire of new routines, more responsibility and less down time. 

We've both been cranky, testy and easily agitated. It hasn't been easy here at the Dojo. 

Nathan's homework has increased exponentially. He's now up to 60 minutes a night, compared to 30.  He started slacking after the first week. Forgetting a math sheet here, saying he didn't have to do that sheet there. Playing videogames at his afterschool program without touching a stitch of homework, even though he said he had done it and he hadn't. His attitude stunk, his work ethic was poor and he wanted to have his old routine back. He wanted me to do the writing, he didn't want to put the effort in. It was the same pattern from before the end of school in the 3rd grade. 

And I wasn't having any of it. 

I understand that Nate has certain needs. I know that he needs to have his approach to homework tailored to his work style. However, he still needs to DO it. His perspective is, "Well, if I ignore it or feign that I don't know what's happening, then I'm not responsible."

One of the biggest things I'm working on with Nathan is to have him learn more responsibility.. There are a few things he is responsible for now. Getting dressed, washing himself, brushing his teeth and hair, putting his dishes in the sink and his laundry in the basket. The big one is homework, which has always been an epic battle. I knew to get his attention I had to pull the big guns. 

 I took away video games. More than once. Three times in less than a week. 

Yep, I did. I knew what would happen when he did it, too. Big tears, big screams, big dramatic movements across the house. Banging of heads into pillows. Calling me a horrible mother. Hiding in his closet. All the things I avoided in the past because I didn't want to deal with the melodrama. I was being lazy, too. I didn't want to endure it. Who wants to hear their kids scream for an hour or more? Not me, that's for sure. 

I had to bite the bullet and deal with the consequences. He told me he hated me, hated the rules, hated his homework. I reminded him videogames are a privledge, not a right, and you have to earn it. There were a few days that were rather dark and sad as he contemplated his fate.

The past few days we have seen a little light at the end of the tunnel. His afterschool site director said that he is seeing other boys go do their homework first, and then go and do videogames. He is now doing the same behavior without being prompted by others. This is a step in the right direction. There will be days when we can slack on the routine, but the routine is being established right now. Once the pattern is honed, then some slight changes can be made. 

Like Nate, I too, am struggling with my new job. I am not accustomed to being in charge and not being micromanaged to death. I have a lot of freedom, which in truth is a little frightening. I am swimming in a sea where I am the bright shiny new fish and this pond has never seen the likes of me. I am new to a program where the previous director was there for 11 years. Its daunting. 

The kids are fighting hard against change and are very outward with their dislike of it. I've had issues with my staff over changes in procedure, where I had to have my program director come in and have a sit down with an employee as I have not been able to make any headway with her. 

I have been leaning on my program director heavily for advice, guidance and procedure, as it's an entirely new ball of wax. I feel like I'm trying too hard to have my wings dry quick enough for me to fly on my own, but on the other hand, I am really afraid to fly. 

Today, I had a parent come up to me and tell me she felt I was using "shameful and demeaning language" when speaking with the children. Not her child directly, but other children. I am not all sweetness and light. I am very kind and respectful, but if someone is acting up, I will call them to the carpet on it in a firm tone. I don't yell.  She said that she wanted to talk with me further about this. I was totally thrown off my game. I ran through the scenario about 3 million times in my head, second guessing myself, wondering if I was really being mean to them, what was I doing in this job, am I cut out for this job, etc. 

I called my best friend, in a panic, and he said that I did everything I was supposed to do. I called my program director and talked with her about it, again, feeling like I'm micromanaging everything. I explained everything and she laughed and said, "Really? You?" I was so scared to lose my job over this, but tried really hard not to express that over the phone. She asked if she wanted me to be present at the meeting and I said yes, I would feel more comfortable. Which is true. But then I felt like I'm an idiot for not being able to figure this out on my own. Honestly, I know this mother will not like what I have to say and ask for my program director anyway, so I'm killing two birds with one stone.

Then, not an hour later the mother calls and asks to set up a meeting. I tell her that's no problem. I tell her I'll be meeting with my program director in the morning and that she'll be there when we eventually meet. She asked, "Are you sure you want me being candid and honest in front of your boss?" I said, "I have no problem with that at all." Which is partially true. However, I'm kind of scared that she'll just paint this horrible picture of me, which I'm then afraid I'll be revealed as a big hack and then I'll get fired and be poor and have to crawl on my hands and knees to get my old job back. 

So much drama in such a tiny little space. I'm not handling this very well at all. I even called my therapist to move my appointment up, even though I've been doing so great at dealing with my shit and handling my problems and using positive affirmations, it all went down the toilet today. I felt weak and worthless and questioned my whole existence. 

Damn, that was exhausting. 

I was very thankful that Nate had his homework mostly done when I picked him up. That made for an easier evening. I then announced we were going to get ice cream. Before dinner. I thank Kim & Jason for that little nugget of inspiration. We went to our absolute favorite ice cream place and he had the Kung Fu Grasshopper (Mint chocolate chip) and I had the Raspberry Cheesecake and it was as sinful as it sounds and I ate every single bite of it. 

I looked up at the stars and we saw the big dipper and the little dipper and I said, "Nate, I stand here with you, and underneath the stars and I realize that my problems aren't as big as I make them out to be. That I can make it through anything."

He smiled at me, his face covered in green and black smudges. 

This rattled me, for sure, but it did not break my foundation. I have a very strong support system in place. I thank my best friend in the whole wide world, with whom I go and have milkshakes at midnight, and I can talk to him about anything and everything, and vice versa. He is my truest and closest confidant and believes in me implicitly. He is my biggest supporter. :D

 I thank my boss, who has so much faith in me and what I can do and makes me feel great as I am stumbling through this minefield, making mistakes, watching things blow up and yet, she still has me on staff and would back me up in a nanosecond. 

I thank the Universe for sending this to test me. Sometimes you need to have your mettle (metal? lol) stress tested. Mine went through the ringer and I made it through to the other side. I will work that much harder to be ready to endure that again. 

Owning It

I spent some time this month watching re-runs of RuPaul's Drag Race. You may not know, but I am Miss Gay East Coast 2nd Runner up. I have a plaque to prove it.

See, I am a fabulous drag queen. 

 My bachelorette party was at a drag show at Jacques. This was a few years ago and I was a much different person then. I was much heavier, more self conscious, so much MORE that I was not dealing with then. I felt everyone else was so much MORE than I was. I almost didn't even GO.  But I was dragged there (in overalls no less, what the HELL was I thinking?!) and had a front row seat to the madness and magic that is professional drag. 

I freakin' LOVED it. 

The ladies LOVED the fact that there was a table full of women in the front row. They pulled us up to dance with them. They bought us drinks. They heckled my outfit. They were having a pageant that night and one of the ladies had to drop out. We were the only bachelorette party there (and I think the only straight women there. This was before drag shows were popular for the bride to be) and the host came up to me and presented me with this plaque at the end of the evening. I thought it was hysterical and cheeky and so much fun.

Fast forward to 2011, where Nate is watching drag queens perform and transform in and out of drag. I am all for him seeing people in different facets of their personality.  I have no problem with him viewing this, as I am there to answer his questions and you know what, he may actually encounter a drag queen at some point in his life. There are straight and gay people in the world. Some gay people do drag. Some straight people do drag. And in this instance, I was exposing Nate to mostly gay men doing drag. 

He was confused at first. He said, "Mom they're women!" I said, "Yes, they are." He then asked, "But wait, who are those guys with them?"

The FABULOUS JuJubee marrying...himself!

I said, "Those men are what the ladies look like without their makeup on. They are performers and put on a show. And they dress up like women."

He asked, "A Costume like you do, Mom?"

I said, "Yes, but I'm still a woman when I take mine off. "

"Will I be a drag queen?" he asked. He smiled. 

"If you are, I will be the proudest mom ever." I said. 

"Why?" he questioned. 

"Because that is who you are. No matter who you are, or what you look like or how you dress, I will always love and support you."

As we watched, we turned into big fans of Jujubee, who is a Bostonian (WORD!)

Her beauty, grace, poise, humor (which is a hammy casserole chock full of vaudville-ian goodness) and style was what drew us in to keep watching. We were very SAD to find out she did not win! (We do feel she got robbed.)

Watching the show and seeing the ladies work, interact, solve problems, be creative with "What ya got" are skills everyone needs. We aren't always the same, we don't agree on all of the same ideas. We do need to connect and to work with people, even if we think they're complete morons.

Another gem we took from this is the concept of owning it. Owning yourself, your faults, strengths, emotions, looks, choices...all of it. One of my biggest struggles is being comfortable with who I am. Early in my childhood I felt it was not okay to be me. Like I didn't deserve to exist as I was because I was told it was wrong. I couldn't express myself in ways that I needed to and was significantly repressed and curbed to the point of being emotionally stunted. The actor in me was able to hide this behind many layers of happy looking drywall, but for many years, I spent that time not flourishing or growing. 

Only in the past year have I truly been able to deal with this issue. It's something that I have to work on every single solitary day. It may sound corny, but I spend my time reminding myself how incredibly awesome I am. 

I HAVE to. It's part of my daily work. I look at inspiring quotes, I read them and repost them on Facebook. I tell myself I can do anything that I put my mind to. I write in my journal about what is bothering me and try to find solutions to them.

I am owning it. I call it dealing with my shit. I am dealing with my shit every moment of every day, not just when it becomes a massive pile of unmanageable shit. I talk outloud and say, "Okay, calm down. How do we solve this? What can you do right NOW?" 

It's about the right now. It's about dealing with your shit. It's about being awesome and knowing that you're awesome. We're all awesome. It's 100 % true.  You have to TRULY believe it in yourself FIRST. THAT is the hardest, most difficult concept to wrap your head around. 

My shit consisted of getting therapy, daily self affirmations, working to be more accepting and loving of myself and of others and not being responsible for other people's emotions, actions or how they felt about me. I spent so much energy and time and tears on that one. 

You only own yourself. You own and are responsible for yourself, your choices, your emotions and your life. Only you can change you. It is a simple concept, but one many humans, including myself, wanted to not acknowledge. 

Now that I've done these changes, I see a monumental shift in my relationships. Nathan and I are in one of the greatest emotional spaces that we have had in a very long time. We're able to really talk to each other, be present in our conversations and be truly honest in expressing our needs. 

I am blessed, blessed, blessed in my personal life, too. 

I thank RuPaul, the Glamazon of Drag Queens and my new patron saint of inspiring quotes. She brings it to the table without throwing shade and with bucketloads of Southern Charm and grace. She tells it to you straight.

We all must walk through the fire. It will burn, but it will reveal who you truly are. No matter what that is, it is phenomenal because it is you. 


As RuPaul says, "“If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”