Defeated

It's been a Monday today--a full-on autism kind of Monday--but I don't want to just sit here and whine.  I want my genuine gratitude to come through my writing, while at the same time successfully relating my entire thinking process in addition to the autism experience.  I strive for constructive outcomes to my blogs (most of the time), but you need to understand my Point A -----> Point C road trip. 

Yes, it was a full-on autism kind of Monday--all before 9 am.  Before I'd showered, before I had my tea, before my eyes were fully open and my brain was thoroughly ready to begin working (let's be honest... is it ever, though?), before I could process a single word being said to me, before before before.  To digress for a moment, even as I write "it's been a Monday," this really could be, and typically is, any and every day for us.  It's never relegated to just Mondays.  In fact, we'll most likely repeat the majority of this tomorrow!  Yeehaw.

One child was throwing some major attitude my way.  Recently, he's been pushing boundaries more; what he thinks is funny and fun, often is straight up disrespectful and rude.  We've always given our kids leeway when it comes to our relationships with them, but this is more than leeway.  It's hold onto your hats we're skidding into the preteens way.  I'm calling him on his behavior, and I'm being harsher than I typically would.  I want to stop this sort of thing before it truly gets off the ground, you know?  He was also wound tighter than a spring, despite having had his meds, and that takes a toll on everyone in the house.

Ezra was just having a plain old rough day.  He is by far my "most" autistic, if that makes sense.  I'm not entirely certain what happened, but it began when I told him he would need proper clothing in order to go out to the store with me--so it most likely had something to do with learning he needed to put pants on (Frankly, if we hadn't just run out of milk, I would've called it and just stayed home.  My kid just really needed a break).  Ezra hates--HATES--clothing (many of you already know, naked is the norm!).  Because it was so cold this morning, I explained if he wanted to wear short sleeves, he would need his heavy coat; if he wanted his lighter "most comfiest coat," as he refers to it, he would need long sleeves.  I have to continually remind myself, he is not giving me a hard time, he is having an incredibly hard time.  I tried redirection, I tried positive re-phrasing, I tried our anxiety/calming techniques, I tried just sitting with him until he would allow me to hold him.  I tried everything in my little bag of tricks, using my most upbeat voice (which I even despise!), even though I wasn't feeling it at all.  

With regard to the preceding matters, it is emotionally fatiguing to watch your kids flounder--even when, especially when, they're making every effort.  Especially when their brain gets in the way of every effort.  As taxing as it is for me, I know it's more so for them.  But as their mama--it's freaking heartbreaking.  

As if the emotional heaviness of all of the above wasn't enough, we were scheduled to get back on track with our school year, and head back to co-op tomorrow.  Truthfully, we simply just were not ready.  We've had a five-week break and oh my gosh, do we need to be back on schedule and routine and back into life--but good grief, thinking about everything that needed doing to have us ready sent my brain right into an anxiety-laden spiral.  Yes, I've known about tomorrow for the past five weeks, but good grief, these past five weeks have been filled with so much, it really just kind of slipped away from me. 

I was just feeling utterly defeated--deflated--so when Ezra retreated to his room, I retreated to my closet for a quick cry.  It was completely warranted.  Even as I pushed forward with all my autism tactics with Ezra, I kept up those same tactics with my own inner thoughts.  I continued making efforts to corral my gratitude and maintain a positive attitude, all while just wanting to toss in the towel.  What my kids don't understand--and I can't quite expect them to understand--is when they've had a day, it means Mama has had a day as well.  As much as they need a break, so do I.  As much as they need space, I do also.  So frequently, as the day wears on, it wears on me.  

So, here's what happened...

My child with the attitude apologized on his own, and I recognized (and acknowledged) a genuine effort to improve.  Ezra and I finally agreed on clothing and we made it through the store, his little hand clinging to to mine the entire time.  He stopped shutting down and began perking up.  We even had an OHMYGOSH THAT REALLY JUST HAPPENED moment while watching tv: there was a a shuttle launch on the show and as they counted down, Ezra began to count by twos.  It was pretty exciting and earth shattering, and all kids need encouraging, but in the autism world you learn to not react, or at least keep it to an amazingly low, dull, nonchalant roar.  Putting him to bed tonight, I told him I enjoyed our time just the two of us at the store and he replied, "I love you too, Mama."  Music, sweet music.  At lunch time, we received notice that our return to co-op has been delayed until next week.  That's another week to prepare ourselves (*ahem*, myself), clean up the office and classroom, ease back into routine and start back with the easier things.  To round things out, Noah received the full time position he's been coveting at work! 

Tonight, I'm filled with gratitude for co-op community leaders who are full of wisdom and obedience.  I'm encouraged by the progress Ezra made today, even when it felt like two steps forward, five steps back.  I'm relieved my preteen (still?) responds to correction from me and apologizes with heartfelt regret.  I feel indebted to the many specialists we have who are guiding us and teaching me.  Most importantly, tucking my kids in tonight, telling them I'm glad we had a good day today (as opposed to our standard, "Tomorrow's another day!"), I'm reminded once again how absolutely providential it is I get to be Mama.

Be all of that as it may, I'm ending the day still feeling absolutely defeated, but furthermore, immensely and wholly grateful.