On a good day, parenting will test the integrity of your character. On a bad day, parenting will test your will to live. Parenting children with trauma histories will cause you to test the integrity of everything and everyone you thought you knew, for the rest of your life.
~J. Skrobisz

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

I think I found it?

Packing up my classroom last Friday was definitely hard.  A little panicky moment there and some tears and then I went home and sobbed.  Such a huge leap of faith, this moving-but-i-don't-know-where-or-when-yet thing.  So I blogged the Bridges post, journaled (there is SO much in the private journal that will never be bloggable but that is as it should be), talked to friends and family, had a glass of wine and called it a night.

Saturday I woke up and said Ok self.  Let's do this.  I took the kids to the barn for riding and surprise!  I got to ride!  I didn't have trouble remembering my posting but my 2-point?  Eh.  Not so much.  I had so much fun!  Then off to feed Jack, my buddy.  He's a retired quarter horse and he gives the most awesome hugs.  Then home to the housework to show the house to a potential buyer, lunch at McDonald's then just me and the kids again.  I started to panic.  crap.  alone.  again.  Picked up the phone and started texting.  *cue tentative smile*  C~ was going to her first ball game.  Minor leagues.  "Can we go too?"

Then home to work in the garage and chatting on the phone with my big sister and neighbors playing in the yard and off to the baseball game, listening to One Republ!c on the way, singing along and... I think I found it?

After the 11 inning Game, our team won! 
 Nicest family photo since my birthday in October!
 Selfies with C~ and me!

Yep, that's right.  I am SMILING.

Sunday, packing, cleaning, hard work in the garage.  I just keep believing this house is going to sell and I can be on my way finally.  Lots of researching a different location, jobs, resources, exhausting!  Monday.  Busy busy busy.  No time to stop.

Tuesday?  KAPOW!  A jolt of adrenaline filled with love and amazingness.

1.  AB had to have a fasting blood analysis done to check his liver function with one of his medications.  On the drive to the lab, AB told me about a dream he had the night before.  In his dream he went down into hell, through black roots.  When he got there, he pushed the devil away.  Then he went to heaven and met my father, who has been deceased since 1986.  According to AB, my father told him to tell me that I was doing a good job raising my son.  *smile*

2.  I took him to class, still beaming and drove straight to the grade school. WG was getting an award.  The Presidential oustanding academic achievement for straight A's the entire school year.  *smile*  ok... and some tears of pride.
WG all dressed up for the ceremony.
This is a BIG deal because 90% of her clothes are boys items!

3.  Then home again to get the mail.  The letter from AB's psychiatrist arrived.  She has requested that our new puppy, Hydrocarbon, be registered as an Emotional Support Dog. This means, no matter where we move to, no landlord can deny Carbon, regardless of their personal pet policy.  Emotional Support Dogs are covered under the American Disability Act/Fair Housing.  *smile*  ok... and some jumping up and down and squeals of happiness.

4.  Then a bit of a rest and, off to graduation ceremonies.  Well, I think the pictures tell the story.

Group photo with some of the faculty and administration

(L to R)  English, Math, Science, Art

 Faculty, staff, Director
 Director, Principal, ME!  
I have worked for the Director since February 1997!!!

 G~ and Me!!!
(she's from Pennsylvania so of course, I love her!!!)

 Me, 2030 Presidential Candidate [1], English Teacher
 Smiles, Smiles, Smiles

OK... so after graduation I went home and was tearful.  It was my last commencement with my school after all.

But, there it is.  In color.  A smile.  On MY face.  After so many months, so much personal struggle, so much learning, leaning on others, trusting, crying, processing, sorting, thinking, feeling, grieving, worrying... a smile.  MY smile.

I don't have answers today.  In fact, after so much yesterday, my head isn't in the game to find answers right now.  I can't do a dang thing until the house sells anyway.

Who will buy it? *shoulder shrug*
Who will hire me?  *shoulder shrug*
Where will we move to?  *shoulder shrug*
What will our new life look like?  *shoulder shrug*

I know only ONE thing.  Moving out of this state is imperative.  AB and Sissy have new therapists (again) and once again, the care they are getting is WORSE than before.  A Nigerian immigrant with a strong accent working with a predominantly autistic client base?  Right.  How many autistic teens are going to talk to her?  AB has a hard enough time articulating as it is.  A B.A. Social Work with only two other RAD cases under her belt and NO clients with crises, she didn't know what triangulation was, and she thought Sissy would learn to shower appropriately if I bribed her with cookies.  Uh...I don't think so.  My RAD daughter is 49/50 on the RADQ.  She needs Master's level therapists on her case at the very least.  And she needs to see her psychiatrist more often than once every three months!  *shaking my head*

So, with no answers and nothing but a smile on my face at the moment (well... at this EXACT moment it's a bit of a smirk because the mosquitoes are eating me while I type this on my back porch), I will leave you with a long overdue AB story [2]

I was in the garage, packing and rearranging and gathering things for a yard sale.  AB came up to me, pacing and scratching the back of his neck (his stims.)  "Mom? Mom."

"Yes son?"

"How will it work?"  He was eyeing the growing mountain of stacked boxes.

"How does what work?"

"My stuff.  In the boxes.  How will I get it in my room?"  Then a look of panic on his face before I could answer.  "Are you going to sell it?"

"No AB, I will not sell your things.  They are in the boxes, just like we put them there.  They will stay in the boxes until we move."

"Then what?"

"What is the question you need answered?"  He often has a hard time phrasing his thoughts so I wsa unsure what he wanted to know.

"Then what happens to my things.  In the boxes?"

"Ah.  Ok.  So... we will put the boxes on the moving truck or in the van and drive them to our new house."

*interrupting*  "Where will that be again?"

"We still don't know."

"Oh.  right.  Maybe Pennsylvania."

"that's right.  so we will move the boxes to our new house."

"And then?"

"We will put them in your room."

"But is that the best way?"

"The best way for what?"

"Getting my things into my room."

"We will carry the boxes off the truck and put them into your room."

"We won't take the things out of the box and carry the things?"

"nope.  Just the boxes."

"But... is that the best way?  How will I know it is my things in the box?"

"The boxes are labeled."

"Oh yeah.  I forgot."

"So we will open the boxes in your room and take your things out and put them all away again.  It will be like we moved your whole room to another house.  Ok?"

"Ok."  Then he hugged me and walked away.

and this is how EVERY conversation with AB goes.  He paces the entire time, scratches his head or his neck and rarely makes eye contact.  If he is satisfied, I get a hug.  If he is not satisfied he will persist.  Sometimes he walks off angry.  So it is.

[1]Another Chemistry student, we had a running joke all year that he would be the president.  In fact, every student in chemistry class was assigned a role in his administration.  We did the math and figured the earliest he could run is 2030.  So keep your eyes and ears open.  This student will go far.  No lie.

[2]for Aunt J~ who has been missing the ABisms i would tell on my old blog.  xxoo to my BFF!!

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