Reinventedmommy's Blog

I’ve been a bit emotional this past week.  One could easily blame the hormones, because they are certainly stronger this time around.  It is more than just that.  It is also a series of events that leave me feeling like I have no control over life.

- We gave Bailey away.  We chose a great family.  They really seem to love him and I think he’ll be happier there.  Andrew is so much more comfortable in his own home.  No fear of getting jumped on or bitten. His transition hasn’t been perfect, he is clearly looking for undivided attention again, and not in the best ways.  I miss the little pup.

- Work is tough right now.  I can’t even go to the bathroom without a line forming.  I get in early and leave late.  When I get home I don’t want to exercise…I just want to collapse.

- We are losing speech services for Drew.  I’ve rescheduled his meeting three times because I have not been able to get an advocate on the phone to help work through all of this mess.  It is so hard to fight a shrinking state and county budget when your kid’s issues are mild but still there.

-   There have also been a few family issues…some other things….add it all to the exhaustion from the baby and I guess it could explain my crying fits….

Or maybe I need some medication.  I sure hope not!

So, apparently it is the thing to do to compare pregnancies.  I don’t know why.  I guess because some say different pregnancies mean different genders.  I don’t seem to have much of a feel for the differences.  (2nd time mommy – FAIL)

I mean, I have had nausea.  I have tummy issues.  I’m exhausted and all that.  Is it different?  I dunno.  It has been 4 years and sure, it all seems familiar but who knows if it is different enough to know whether we will have another boy or a girl.

I want a girl.  I do…’cause then I’ll have one of each.  Like playing cards, but with spit-up and ear infections.

But I know boys and they are so cool.  They love on their mommies like no one’s business!  Plus, Drew has tons of old clothes we put in the attic and we could be set with little or no prep and then I could spend the money on liposuction!  Win!

But a girl would be fun, too.  She could be my best friend like my mom and I are.  She could shop with me and tell me her secrets and fears.  I could help pick out her wedding dress and help her with her babies.  Sigh.

On the other hand, I could torment another daughter-in-law….that could be fun too.

Either way, we’ll find out in just 6 weeks.  That is when we are scheduled for a level 2 ultrasound.  So, don’t be shy kiddo!  Mommy needs to buy some crib sheets and curtains!

Yes, we are about to become a family of four.  Well, in about 6-7 months.

I can not convey the difficulty I had keeping this secret…from my blog, twitter, facebook, at work and with friends.

I wanted to get to 12 or 13 weeks so we would have a low chance of problems…but when you are already in maternity pants, are green with nausea, and are a chatterbox by nature, it isn’t that easy!

So, now that this isn’t an issue…let’s see…

- We are due March 17

- No, we are not Irish

- Yes, the pregnancy was planned but the St. Pat’s thing was just a cool bonus!

- Yes, we are elated but nervous about 2!

- Drew knows and is VERY excited

- He wanted both a boy and girl, but luckily there is only one in there and as of today he wants a brother

- I expect that to change 4,621 times before March

- First trimester was tough but I can eat french toast this time around so maybe, girl?

I have an ultrasound pic and some other things to share but I’ll save that for next time.

It took a year of hard work,

Looking for sponsors in a struggling economy,

They do it all for the children,

Some, who never hear praise but often criticism,

On their bellies or standing tall,

The wind rushed through their hair,

The crowd called their names and cheered,

They did it,

They conquered the waves, they took on the world,

They won.

*********

Surfer’s healing was an event I had heard about after Drew’s diagnosis but since he was always up in the air with whether it was or was not autism, I hated to take advantage of events/services other children should enjoy.  Then I stopped caring so much about everyone else.  We signed up and I am so glad we did.  He was so excited about it and when he got his turn, he barely remembered to look at me and wave.  He placed his hand in the pro’s hand and off they went.

As they rode in, he smiled and when they paddled back out, he wrapped his arm around his pro.  He looked so natural and free as the wind tossed his hair and the water pushed him to shore.  I thought, “This is peace, this is freedom.”   There was no stimming on shore.   Drew’s jumping around was only apparent when a friend was coming to shore on the long board.  In fact, without the blue bracelets, it was tough to know which kids were participating.  Their bodies just relaxed, their involuntary movements were at peace.  These kids were happy, healthy, and as typical as any you can find.

Surfer’s healing started when a dad notice his son, who has autism,  was so relaxed, at peace, and naturally gifted in the water.  Surfing is a solo sport, there is no team, no social component.  It is man and nature.  What a perfect gift to give a child who is constantly forced to conform, against his or her nature.  They get on the board and for 10 minutes at a time, there is no pressure to do anything but relax and enjoy.

I held your hand so many times before you knew what it was

And now you reach for mine with yours – an automatic gesture of your love

It is as natural as breathing in and out for us, a mother and young son

Not just for safety on a busy road, but even in our own home

Tonight, I walked you to your room, to wish you a good-night rest

And in my hand lay yours, *sigh*, this is truly the age I love best.

This past weekend we celebrated my hubby’s 36th birthday.  It was a nice time with both our little family and some extended family, too.

We have a lot going on in the next year and we just took time away from it all to focus on each other.  No work, no housework, no problems, no worries.  Just us.

It was nice.  We need to do it more often!

Twice in Drew’s lifetime my husband and I have been accused of “helicopter parenting.”  For some reason, I decided to look up the term, despite already having a pretty good feel for what we were being called.

According to Wikipedia, “Helicopter parent is a colloquial, early 21st-century term for a parent who pays extremely close attention to his or her child’s or children’s experiences and problems, particularly at educational institutions. The term was originally coined by Foster W. Cline, M.D. and Jim Fay in their 1990 book Parenting with Love and Logic: Teaching Children Responsibility^[1], although Dr. Haim Ginott mentions a teen who complains, “Mother hovers over me like a helicopter…”

Yes,  teens with parents who hover.  So, how does this apply to us?  The first time we were accused of such hovering behavior was when Drew was just over 1 year old.  Yes, 1.  I was complaining about his treatment at his daycare center.  They were leaving him sitting in wood chips on the playground while the kids who walked could run around.  As a result, he had splinters on his legs and bottom.

So, I hovered over an infant…just turned toddler.  I’m sorry…isn’t that what I signed up for?

The second time was about a year ago and relates to my seeking a diagnosis for Drew’s developmental challenges.  Thanks to the work my husband and I did, the stress, the evaluations…Andrew has grown into such an amazing little child who is independent, smart, and self-confident.  One know it all who has never had a child with special needs has no idea what this process is like or how much it takes out of a family, commented that we sought out a diagnosis.  She referred to me and mothers like me as, “helicopter moms who want an excuse for their below-average children”.  Well, if she hadn’t been online, and had been within reach, she would have a permanent hand print on her face from my bitch slap.  My son has an IQ of 110 and is hardly below average.  Her son is 6 months old.  Call me in 3 years when you learn how little you know.

Yeah,  I’ll happily admit to hovering since the opposite term is negligence.

Parents who care about their children should find this term offensive at best.  So please, suit up moms and dads…time for your flyby.

I remember saying the word, “damn” when I was very young.  What I do not remember is the time in between saying it and being carried up the basements stairs, placed on the side of the sink, and the bar of soap inserted into my mouth.  All I remember is the word and the soap.  I guess that was the point.

Drew has begun modeling his language after the great writers at Disney and Pixar.  Thanks to Toy Story I, I was called an idiot last night.  We didn’t resort to the soap, yet.  Drew had a few minutes in time out in his room.  Then, while watching The Incredibles, I was asked why syndrome accused Mr. Incredible of crying like a “little girl” ?   I’m sure I’ll hear this description a few dozen more times from his mouth.

I do not blame these movie writers completely.  After writing for entertainment/news I know it is impossible to be funny and inoffensive, sensitive yet satirical.  They have a balance to maintain and it is not an easy thing to do.  What I do mind is watching my little man turn into a bratty-mouthed little kid.  I do not appreciate having to fight this battle with him, before I am ready.  But, here we are.  I am ready with time outs and bars of soap.  God help me.

For more than 13 years, I have worn my hair short.  I know the time precisely because the year I chopped it all off, it was at the suggestion of a Stella Hair Designer who worked for CNN.  I was interning there and his services, at 50% off, were one of the perks.  He told me I didn’t have the face for long hair…or “~air” as he said with his mysterious accent.  The man gave great scalp massages.  Those impressions stay with you, if you know what I mean.

Since that time, I have gone from above my chin to just above my shoulders. Then, after leaving the news business, I didn’t need the neat style, but kept it mostly out of habit.  I worked in PR and needed to look neat and polished as well, but there was less of a need to show my full face then there was with a camera pointed at me.

Over time, my hair began to sink a bit lower and lower…and now..it is about the length of my shoulder blades.  I think it often looks messy, humidity- huge, and often unmanageable but I love it.  It is fun and sassy and I can do so many things with it.  I figure, as a 34 year-old, my long hair days are numbered.  I might as well enjoy it while I don’t look like a hippy or Michelle Duggar (minus 18 children).

So, here it is…in my terrible self-portrait attempts.  This southern summer has tempted me to chop it all off, but we’ll see.