Im tired. This is more a diary entry that I hope I will learn something from in the future when I will no doubt look back and read my old posts like I have the others.
One full week back from my little respite getaway (https://mummagrizzlybear.wordpress.com/2017/06/30/r-e-s-p-i-t-e-find-out-what-it-means-to-me/?preview=true )
…and we’ve survived a bumpy road to the babybear turning 8… Read my post on birthdays to gain an understanding of just how hard this time of year can be. https://mummagrizzlybear.wordpress.com/2017/06/07/pda-presents-and-surprises/?preview=true
Summed up by his wish that ‘birthdays should be the same day as Christmas so it can all be over at once’ and this makes me so sad for him 😢. But I digress. We have survived. We even enjoyed parts of it and he mastered the skill of appropriate responses to gifts AND was affectionate and verbally thankful without prompting!!
But today he’s been excluded again; partly a culmination of last weeks bumpy behavior and the icing on the cake today cementing his fate. He’s relatively unphased by this fact. He agreed it was a ‘fair’ sanction. He still feels justified in his actions though. Oh my little rigid thinker! So I’m faced with the ‘how do I deal with this dilemma’ once more. School feel that the exclusion is as much a break for him from the volatile environment as it is a punishment. They’d like me to help him regulate again before he returns. This makes my blood boil. I love the team at the school and we are a million times more supported where he is currently than we were before… But…I can help him regulate til the cows come home but when he’s out of my care, someone else has to step in. Its something he just can’t do for himself (yet) and although I carefully manage his environment to reduce anxiety provoking triggers at home, I cannot be responsible for this whilst he’s at school. Its my biggest disability. I wish I could protect him and support him each moment he needs me. But he has to grow.
To compound the stress I was feeling, I’m behind on some work, its the wrong time of the month and bigger bruv decided today was a great day to kick off too. He’d already had a grounding over the weekend and had ‘lost’ his phone privledge but today he went for round 2, unleashing a load of verbal abuse when I said ‘no’ to something he wanted. Gee whiz.. I was so unprepared for what was coming out of his mouth and so short on patience from having dealt with babybear exclusion saga that I just cried. I just burst. It probably saved me from unleashing angrymummabear who would have beat herself up no end if she had resorted to an old fashioned smacked arse for being so disrespectful. So there I am. Cooking tea and sobbing my heart out. Fresh with really unhelpful thoughts about being an inadequate parent who has delinquent children!
Part of my work involves teaching others to challenge their negative thoughts…so I crack on applying my more rational side and prepare dinner for the babybears setting aside daddybears and mine to share when he returns from his hard day at work. I remind myself that one parenting blip doesn’t have to become a whole parenting chapter on fails and engage the kids in conversation over dinner and insist that we go for a fun family dog walk when daddybear gets in.
Queue daddybear (later than expected) who waltzes in oblivious to mummagrizzlybears tear stained cheeks and announces that he’s going back out soon so if I wanted a family dog walk we would have to skip dinner. Ffs. Deep breaths. Queue kids kicking off rejecting lovely dog walk. Mummagrizzlybear pulls rank and with huffing n puffing both children are in welly boots and dogs are on leads. Daddybear hikes off with babybear now doing his best impression of being the least likely child to be excluded for violence and bigger bruv lags behind confirming the delinquent status and subsequently the family dog walk starts out as quite a staggered and separated family walk. Half way round the field, 2 members are heading off virtually out of view and I’m losing my cool with bigger bruv who has randomly developed the worst leg pain ever in an attempt for my attention. I’ve humoured him. Cajoled him and nurtured him, but he won’t let up. All I can think is that I’d needed to talk to daddybear about the exclusion, the plans for re jigging our lives whilst he’s off and importantly that I very urgently needed some self care me time if I were going to be home alone on excluded duties over the coming days. But daddybear is miles ahead and bigger bruv is still moaning, my report for work is now definitely late and its the wrong time of the month for heavens sake!
I turn on my heel and RUN.
Biggerbruv yells come back mum. But I just keep going, I picture driving away. I reach home flustered and because my car is trapped in by the work van I dart up the stairs, throw on my running clothes, grab my headphones and I’m back out the door and off the estate without them clocking me from the fields. I know daddybear wants to go out but I don’t care. I’m fit to burst and I run. I needed it. Spotify plays me ironic songs about relationships clinging on by their fingernails and I head for the horizon. About a mile in, the horizon doesn’t feel far enough away, the landscape feels like its closing in and I’m conscious that I feel panic. Breathing through it and lost in another tune which makes me smirk I’m at the top of the hill. I’m calmer. More rational and already sure that I will go back. Promising myself I’d only be half an hour, I’d return refreshed and daddybear could still head out. Come on Eileen gets me back up the hill home and I’m greeted by ‘I thought you’d gone forever mummy’.
Sweaty , I attempt to clear the air with daddybear who is evidently miffed and obviously completely unaware of my teetering on the edge moment. I bring him into the picture and we begin to talk but then he drops in that he’s too busy to attend the autism course tomorrow even if I could find someone to watch the littlest. Mummagrizzlybear is hurt. His priorities suck in my eyes. Its week 4of4 and he’s made it to none thus far. I bleat out that it was never about ‘learning new things and more about showing me some support’ and head for the shower to sob some more. Somewhere mid shower he shouted ‘see ya later’.
Kids tucked up, I take wine to the office to attempt my now very late report but get sidetracked phoning family members, crying and running my husband down…
Queue daddybear returning. He looks softer. He’s calm. He offers a genuine ‘are you alright’ before telling me he’d been thinking and he’ll be with me tomorrow and his dad can have babybear. It takes me a moment to soften too; a wounded mummagrizzlybear can hold a grudge, but I relented and we talked as he leant into the office and I still avoided my report.
Its now just gone midnight, report complete, house quiet, wine glass empty and a little ache in my legs reminds me that today I chose to run away. Dramatic maybe but the anger boiling inside me motivated me back into self care and not self destruct. My kids were worried but probably less so than had I have taken the car. Daddybear and I have survived and hes even read the handouts from the sessions he’d missed of the course.
PDA and the parenting shenanigans associated with it are tiring. Bigger bruv is all too often met by a mum who is already short on patience as babybear sucks up all of it. Relationships are strained and just every now and then I want to run the fuck away. Then my rational thoughts kick in and I remind myself that I’m no quitter (grandaddybear reminded me if this tonight). I’ll never quit but I do have to tag out here n there. Running away with a plan to return is OK…even if it takes the first mile to plan the returning bit!