I wish I could smack the next person who gives me that smile and says about having a three year old, "Enjoy the time you have with him because this time is just so short." Or my other 'favourite' which is "You should ignore the doctor and have another child." Really?
It happened yesterday while I was out shopping. The sales clerk - who had to be around my age or if she wasn't, really looked older than she should - and I were chatting while she was ringing me up. We both have three year olds and she was saying the line about enjoying this time with them and how she thought I should have another one. When I demurred, she said that she nearly died with her second son but decided to have the third one. And if that didn't stop her, why should I not have another one?
Politely, I told her that I would rather be relatively healthy with my one than extremely ill with two that I couldn't take care of. I didn't want to remind her that of course being a Mom was grand for her - she got to escape her kids for a few hours a day by working. It's easier to appreciate your kids when they aren't driving you nuts 24/7.
What I really want to tell these busybodies who mean well or just don't know when to back the fuck off the subject is...
Sure, tell me how to enjoy this time when I spend it cleaning up the last mess my son did while trying to kill himself. The water he sprayed all over the floor in the kitchen when he moved the chair in there so he could play with the attachment because I was busy trying to clean up the water on the floor in the bathroom that he poured in the floor while he was standing in the sink. Why was he in there? Because I was peeing in my bathroom. I know, how silly of me to leave him alone for two minutes but I hadn't peed in two hours and my bladder was going to burst. What a selfish thing to do.
Oh, and by the way, enjoying the time is great when you've had sleep but I haven't slept eight straight hours more than four times in three years. Don't tell me that I can sleep when he sleeps because when he finally goes down at night, it's the only time I have to get my house clean and put away all the toys that ended up under the couch. It's the only time I have to catch up on wrapping packages and writing out birthday cards to friends and family. It's the only time I have to talk to my husband and watch the three shows I DVR'd to save my sanity from endless Caillou, Dragon Tales, et al.
No, my son isn't ADD or ADHD or any of those alphabet soup things. He's a kid with far more energy than his middle aged Mother can handle. He's too curious about the world and I am constantly trying to keep ahead of him in a house that isn't built for a curious toddler. The locks are a joke so I'm constantly chasing him back into the house from the backyard with its dangers and trying to keep him out of the garage with the tools my husband has decided do not need to be put away. Short of locking him in a large dog kennel, I'm going to be a heartbeat away from wondering when he's going to really do damage to himself.
So, no, I'm not enjoying this that much. I do not want to do this again. At least, not without a buttload of cash for a nanny to do the chasing.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
Getting beat up
Not in the physical sense but it feels an awful lot like it after awhile. Maybe that's what all those depression hurts ads mean.
The last two months have been a bitch. Between Husband and I going round and round about the money issue, Boy has been not adjusting to his new preschool as quickly as his school would like him to. They had us in about two weeks ago to discuss putting him into an evaluation with Stanford university to find out what his issues are. We know that Boy is a little behind his peer group when it comes to speaking. His vocabulary is behind other kids but it isn't something that actually worries me. Husband yes, me no. But we made the appointment knowing the insurance company covers almost bupkis of it.
The meeting with the psychiatrist wasn't as horrible as I would have thought. She is going to watch Boy at his preschool and then in two 2 hour sessions, evaluated him for a variety of things - IQ, fine and gross motor skills, etc. It will be more to pin point anything that might be amiss in his little head. Based on our just over an hour with her, she has some basic ideas of things that might be going on from what we've told her. She refuses to give us speculation because she wants to see Boy in action.
You can't help as a Mom to wonder what your part in your child's quirks is your doing. Was it the unpasturized brie I had in my second trimester? Did I not exercise too much or too little? Should I have forced him to sit through Baby Einstein though he kept looking at the vids and at me like I was on crack? What did I do wrong?
I've told a few friends what I'm going through and I've gotten pretty good support out of it. It's not like I want to advertise that Boy is being evaluated for possible defects. Even though we all know that if there is something miswired in a kid's head, there are some who will shy away from bringing their kid into your kid's circle lest they catch it. And there is something about having the unsolicited advice of those who feel they are the arbiters of all knowledge on child raising. Ugh.
So you can imagine how I felt bitch slapped by Hollie when she sent me a sharply worded email telling me that I needed to get Boy's hearing tested - that she has told me this a few times and why will I not listen to her? Right now, the last thing I need - and even she has acknowledged this in said email - is to be even more stressed out but there she goes. I politely told her we'd look into it in an email back. Let's just say there will be no return phone calls to Hollie for a few days because I'm just so very hurt by what she wrote.
Is she right? Sure. Boy probably should get a hearing test. Just to rule out the possibility that he's got some hearing issues. My ears are burned out from all the freakin' times I've listened to the Caillou theme song. He's listened to it even more than I have.
But what cheesed me is that she really didn't seem to read the email I sent closely. She seems to think that this is something the preschool is doing rather that an outside agency. That we are paying out of pocket $1500 that we don't have to find out if our son has Asperger's or an IQ of 190 or something. That it is through Stanford University which isn't exactly Beau's College of Yungins and Rubber Goods. I wanted to explain to her in longer sentences that Stanford University is sending a psychiatrist on staff with their childrens' center to the preschool to observe for an hour Boy doing what Boy does. Then we are going for one day over two weeks for two hour sessions to test Boy on various skills to eliminate things to figure out what is going on in Boy's little head.
Why didn't I? Because one, I hate confrontation and two, I'm too damned polite. And three, Hollie is stressed out by having just moved back in with her parents after living on her own for 18 years so she can finish her doctorate dissertation and holding down a part time job in her field that is really new to her. The last thing I want to do is piss her off when she's not thinking straight and lose my other best friend. I'm floundering enough in my life without the easy chat I once had with my other best friend but to lose this one would leave me even more adrift.
What would I have preferred? Just tell me that you're thinking good thoughts and to talk to the pediatrician about possible hearing tests. After I get all the test results back in three weeks from the psychiatrist, then bring up the whole why don't we eliminate the hearing issue thing again. It is really aggrevating to have to deal with this attack when I'm feeling fragile as it is. You want your friends to help but some times, you feel like all you get is needles thrown at you. Or darts. Or worse.
The last two months have been a bitch. Between Husband and I going round and round about the money issue, Boy has been not adjusting to his new preschool as quickly as his school would like him to. They had us in about two weeks ago to discuss putting him into an evaluation with Stanford university to find out what his issues are. We know that Boy is a little behind his peer group when it comes to speaking. His vocabulary is behind other kids but it isn't something that actually worries me. Husband yes, me no. But we made the appointment knowing the insurance company covers almost bupkis of it.
The meeting with the psychiatrist wasn't as horrible as I would have thought. She is going to watch Boy at his preschool and then in two 2 hour sessions, evaluated him for a variety of things - IQ, fine and gross motor skills, etc. It will be more to pin point anything that might be amiss in his little head. Based on our just over an hour with her, she has some basic ideas of things that might be going on from what we've told her. She refuses to give us speculation because she wants to see Boy in action.
You can't help as a Mom to wonder what your part in your child's quirks is your doing. Was it the unpasturized brie I had in my second trimester? Did I not exercise too much or too little? Should I have forced him to sit through Baby Einstein though he kept looking at the vids and at me like I was on crack? What did I do wrong?
I've told a few friends what I'm going through and I've gotten pretty good support out of it. It's not like I want to advertise that Boy is being evaluated for possible defects. Even though we all know that if there is something miswired in a kid's head, there are some who will shy away from bringing their kid into your kid's circle lest they catch it. And there is something about having the unsolicited advice of those who feel they are the arbiters of all knowledge on child raising. Ugh.
So you can imagine how I felt bitch slapped by Hollie when she sent me a sharply worded email telling me that I needed to get Boy's hearing tested - that she has told me this a few times and why will I not listen to her? Right now, the last thing I need - and even she has acknowledged this in said email - is to be even more stressed out but there she goes. I politely told her we'd look into it in an email back. Let's just say there will be no return phone calls to Hollie for a few days because I'm just so very hurt by what she wrote.
Is she right? Sure. Boy probably should get a hearing test. Just to rule out the possibility that he's got some hearing issues. My ears are burned out from all the freakin' times I've listened to the Caillou theme song. He's listened to it even more than I have.
But what cheesed me is that she really didn't seem to read the email I sent closely. She seems to think that this is something the preschool is doing rather that an outside agency. That we are paying out of pocket $1500 that we don't have to find out if our son has Asperger's or an IQ of 190 or something. That it is through Stanford University which isn't exactly Beau's College of Yungins and Rubber Goods. I wanted to explain to her in longer sentences that Stanford University is sending a psychiatrist on staff with their childrens' center to the preschool to observe for an hour Boy doing what Boy does. Then we are going for one day over two weeks for two hour sessions to test Boy on various skills to eliminate things to figure out what is going on in Boy's little head.
Why didn't I? Because one, I hate confrontation and two, I'm too damned polite. And three, Hollie is stressed out by having just moved back in with her parents after living on her own for 18 years so she can finish her doctorate dissertation and holding down a part time job in her field that is really new to her. The last thing I want to do is piss her off when she's not thinking straight and lose my other best friend. I'm floundering enough in my life without the easy chat I once had with my other best friend but to lose this one would leave me even more adrift.
What would I have preferred? Just tell me that you're thinking good thoughts and to talk to the pediatrician about possible hearing tests. After I get all the test results back in three weeks from the psychiatrist, then bring up the whole why don't we eliminate the hearing issue thing again. It is really aggrevating to have to deal with this attack when I'm feeling fragile as it is. You want your friends to help but some times, you feel like all you get is needles thrown at you. Or darts. Or worse.
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