will you still love me if I tell you . . .
how much I am HATING this novel-writing thing?
Seriously.
Yes, I realize it's only Day Three, but really, this sucks. I go to my Word file and I stare at the screen and I have NOTHING. Then I log in here and boy howdy do I have lots to write about! It's like my dissertation all over again.
And of course, this week has been extra busy and stressful; today alone we have a birthay party AND a preschool open house, which is scheduled right during the part of the evening when we are usually putting the boys to bed. So I'm going to pick Charlie up at school, come home and play outside, go to the birthday party at 4:00, run home at 6:00 and throw the boys in the bath, zip off to Henry's school at 7:00, come home by 8:00 and stuff both kids in their beds. And then get in my bed and pull the covers over my head.
Henry is having some Enforced Quiet Time right now, as he had a difficult morning at school (he's not in trouble--I'll come back to this in a minute) so this is my one window to write. But what I SHOULD be doing is paying bills and calling to RSVP for the birthday party Henry has been invited to this Saturday--you know, the one I JUST NOW located the invitation for, the one I was supposed to RSVP to by Tuesday. That one. But the thought of taking Henry to another Pump-It-Up party, where he will run WILD in front of adults who are COMPLETE STRANGERS to me, stresses me out so much I think I may throw up. See why I'm not getting any noveling done?
Henry . . . oh, Henry. When I picked Henry up yesterday, the afternoon teacher confessed, a little hesitantly, that Henry had been extra distracted, and had been sharing his distractability with his friends (thus distracting them from their own work). 'I really don't like to use time-out with these kids,' she said, 'but I had to ask him to go sit in a chair because he was just having such a hard time.' Yes, I said, I am familiar with that.
And then today, it seems, Henry had to leave the room during music (after he and his friend Luke had to be separated), he had to 'stand by the fence' during recess (again, with Luke), AND his teacher had to escort him out of the bathroom during hand washing because he was yelling (I don't know where Luke was for this). I swear to god, on days like this, I feel like the World's Worst Parent.
I already feel like I'm walking a complicated tightrope with Henry. We have still not told our friends about his diagnosis (if you're new here, my son has been diagnosed with ADHD; he also has some Asperger's-type behaviors, although he does not appear to have Asperger's per se), so I don't really have anyone here in OKC to turn to when the going gets tough (yes, my husband, who works full-time and is wonderful and sympathetic but not right here in the middle of the day, and yes our wonderful psychologist, who is of course also not right here in the middle of the afternoon). So on the days when he is particularly hyper or unreasonable or spaced out, I'm on my own. And it's hard.
At the same time, though, it is difficult to spend any amount of time with Henry and NOT sense that he's different, which sometimes makes me think I should just TELL people what's going on (but that seems selfish and unfair to Henry). His teachers can clearly see that he is struggling with the whole notion of self-control, and they are wonderful and kind and patient, and they are trying to find ways to help him help himself, which I appreciate so much. This morning, Mrs. M (who we all know I adore) offered to call our psychologist and talk to her about specific strategies she can use. I could have kissed her, I swear. But as much as I love her and as kind and helpful and non-judgemental as she is (and she is, all of those things, and funny to boot), I still feel a pang of failure every time I hear that he is struggling. And he seems, to me, to be struggling a lot lately.
I just feel, these days, like I'm a terrible mom, and then when I sit down to work on my 'novel', I am too stressed out by my life to make anything fun up at all. But the idea of writing 50,000 words about my actual life--well, makes me want to throw up. Ha ha! So not fun.
So the novel--I still have the same 2,000 words. I don't know what I will do. I'm not quitting yet, but before I can write any more I have to go to a couple of birthday parties and an open house. Wish me luck.
Seriously.
Yes, I realize it's only Day Three, but really, this sucks. I go to my Word file and I stare at the screen and I have NOTHING. Then I log in here and boy howdy do I have lots to write about! It's like my dissertation all over again.
And of course, this week has been extra busy and stressful; today alone we have a birthay party AND a preschool open house, which is scheduled right during the part of the evening when we are usually putting the boys to bed. So I'm going to pick Charlie up at school, come home and play outside, go to the birthday party at 4:00, run home at 6:00 and throw the boys in the bath, zip off to Henry's school at 7:00, come home by 8:00 and stuff both kids in their beds. And then get in my bed and pull the covers over my head.
Henry is having some Enforced Quiet Time right now, as he had a difficult morning at school (he's not in trouble--I'll come back to this in a minute) so this is my one window to write. But what I SHOULD be doing is paying bills and calling to RSVP for the birthday party Henry has been invited to this Saturday--you know, the one I JUST NOW located the invitation for, the one I was supposed to RSVP to by Tuesday. That one. But the thought of taking Henry to another Pump-It-Up party, where he will run WILD in front of adults who are COMPLETE STRANGERS to me, stresses me out so much I think I may throw up. See why I'm not getting any noveling done?
Henry . . . oh, Henry. When I picked Henry up yesterday, the afternoon teacher confessed, a little hesitantly, that Henry had been extra distracted, and had been sharing his distractability with his friends (thus distracting them from their own work). 'I really don't like to use time-out with these kids,' she said, 'but I had to ask him to go sit in a chair because he was just having such a hard time.' Yes, I said, I am familiar with that.
And then today, it seems, Henry had to leave the room during music (after he and his friend Luke had to be separated), he had to 'stand by the fence' during recess (again, with Luke), AND his teacher had to escort him out of the bathroom during hand washing because he was yelling (I don't know where Luke was for this). I swear to god, on days like this, I feel like the World's Worst Parent.
I already feel like I'm walking a complicated tightrope with Henry. We have still not told our friends about his diagnosis (if you're new here, my son has been diagnosed with ADHD; he also has some Asperger's-type behaviors, although he does not appear to have Asperger's per se), so I don't really have anyone here in OKC to turn to when the going gets tough (yes, my husband, who works full-time and is wonderful and sympathetic but not right here in the middle of the day, and yes our wonderful psychologist, who is of course also not right here in the middle of the afternoon). So on the days when he is particularly hyper or unreasonable or spaced out, I'm on my own. And it's hard.
At the same time, though, it is difficult to spend any amount of time with Henry and NOT sense that he's different, which sometimes makes me think I should just TELL people what's going on (but that seems selfish and unfair to Henry). His teachers can clearly see that he is struggling with the whole notion of self-control, and they are wonderful and kind and patient, and they are trying to find ways to help him help himself, which I appreciate so much. This morning, Mrs. M (who we all know I adore) offered to call our psychologist and talk to her about specific strategies she can use. I could have kissed her, I swear. But as much as I love her and as kind and helpful and non-judgemental as she is (and she is, all of those things, and funny to boot), I still feel a pang of failure every time I hear that he is struggling. And he seems, to me, to be struggling a lot lately.
I just feel, these days, like I'm a terrible mom, and then when I sit down to work on my 'novel', I am too stressed out by my life to make anything fun up at all. But the idea of writing 50,000 words about my actual life--well, makes me want to throw up. Ha ha! So not fun.
So the novel--I still have the same 2,000 words. I don't know what I will do. I'm not quitting yet, but before I can write any more I have to go to a couple of birthday parties and an open house. Wish me luck.
18 Comments:
Oh man I know about that guilt thing. I call it my "Mommy Guilt." It hangs over me and some days threatens to choke me to death and makes me want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. Because you know, I AM a bad parent.
BTW you can take me to Ted's for dinner any time. I LOVE that salsa. It might be a good distraction when you should be writing.
Who the heck has a birthday party in the middle of the freaking week??
Sorry.
You could always run up your long-distance phone bill and call me when you need someone who understands to turn to.
I have both ADHD and many of the traits of Asperger's. I didn't always have the easiest time at school, but it got better with understanding teachers and time. I turned out (sort of) okay in the end.
Yeah, who has a birthday party on a Thursday. I would consider skipping that part of your day.
I have "mommy guilt" at least once a day. This mommy job is the most challenging task I have ever experience, mostly because of the emotional toll.
Oi Susan, a big understanding hug. It not only bites to have to deal with the behaviors, the school, knocking your head against the wall trying to figure out the best (and all around Sane) strategy to deal with this, not to mention the isolation and feeling of being marginal for having a kid that dances not only dances to the beat of his own drum, but completely redefines what it means to "drum" and dance". Ugh. I know I know I know where you are coming from. And if there is any consoltion that I can offer it is this...
You are not alone
Thank the universe for blogging
take care and hope it improves
Jesus I love you people.
I'm off to the open house.
Hang in there, Susan. I am ill-equiped to offer advice so I'll just send you an internet bear hug and an Irish coffee...
You are so not a bad mother. God watch Oprah some afternoon and see the whackos out there. Wait, does watching Oprah make me a bad mom? Shit. Anyway this about you not me. You are doing the best you can with what you have and to my eyes it looks like pretty great parenting. And GOD how many birthday parties ARE there?
Susan- I have no advice to give you, but I want to assure you that you are NOT a bad mother! You're an awesome mother based on the fact that you CARE so much!
Now do you like gin or vodka in your martinis?
Here's an idea to make it easier on you Susan.
make your novel an imaginary story about Henry. the character will have depth and shade because it's anchored in reality (and you understand him)but you can make him do anything or be as old/young as you want because it's an imaginary life. You can use the novel project (to express yourself and your knowledge and frustrations) rather than have the novel project use you. goodluck.
Ockerbarnes - I think that is a great idea! Kind of turning this whole novel thing into therapy... perhaps it will be less stressful that way?
Susan, you are crazy for writing this novel in a month (though I'm considering participating next year, so I must be crazy, too), but you are not a bad mom. At. All. *hugs*
If it makes you feel any better, I only have 1500 words.
It feels like homework. And I took 7 years to get through college.
huh.
Susan-- Ditto what Misfit said!
I thought of you when I saw the Super Nanny commercials for tonight (7pm ABC). They're having an episode with a family that has a 3-year-old boy with autism. I'm kind of curious myself to watch it - to see exactly how different parenting a child like this can be.
I wish I could put a band-aid on it and fix it for you, but all I can do is give you a big long distance ((HUG)).
I have a nephew with ADHD and Aspergers. He's a 6th grader and just entered middle school. His mom asked them to hold him back in 5th grade because she didn't think he was ready for middle school. She was right, he is having a hard time there. He is so incredibly sweet and smart. He is wonderful with our baby and connects easily with adults.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, but you're not alone.
My mommy-guilt screams 'Badmommybad!' in this high-pitched nasty squeal - and I hear it at least three times a day...not so much fun.
At least when you write your novel you can control who made the good choices, right?
oh and I forgot to mention that I lectured at a University for 4 years (and only quit in Feb 2005 because of my 2nd pregnancy) and I had a terrific student who had Aspergers. She was doing BFA hons. and she was bright and funny and creative and good to be around. she just needed more time with me and wanted everything explained in plain language. she's done well. Aspergers doesn't have to hold Henry back from being the great kid he is. Susan you should tell a few friends what's been going on so they can be support for you. You need to look after yourself so you can then look after your family. So, tell some friends over coffee, it won't ruin their day and you'll feel better for it. C
The strongest most courageous mothers I know are those who ask for help and let others know when they are at the ends of their rope. Even if it's on their blog!
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