My crime?

Wanting a shower. After 3 days.

David has gone to Philadelphia on a historical trip with Grandma Donna for a week. Mikey is home with me. I got a shower Saturday morning before Mikey woke up. Sunday was me & Mikey all day - never a break, and by bedtime, too exhausted. Monday morning was the morning I woke up & found that Mikey had decided to be an artist by using himself & his bed as a canvas. This morning, that was it - shower was no longer optional. I guess it was my fault - I didn't check first to see if there were any open boxes of cereal (Mikey has difficulty opening the liners). Suffice it to say that when I got out of the shower, Mikey had somehow gotten the bag open: all over the kitchen. I'm still not sure if any actually landed in his bowl. Sigh.

I'm Lost

I've lost myself. In trying to make an environment that is calm for my boys, I've lost the things I used to love to do. Mostly due to Mikey's issues (I'm assuming they're sensory, but maybe he just doesn't like my stuff), I've stopped playing my own music, whether cds or the radio (certain songs set him off), stopped playing my guitar (although he loves listening to his music, he will scream if anyone plays the acoustic guitar), I don't watch any tv programs I like in the living room, again because you never know which ones or what part will set Mikey off, and frankly, for the past 14 years, a non-screaming Mikey has always been worth it. Those are just a few examples.

But 14 years have passed, and I'm just starting to realize I have given up just about everything that was me so that they can be them. All my artistic endeavors are relegated to the studio outside, which I can't access when Mikey is around (just what I need - a kid with permanently tie dyed skin). I have my books, but try to concentrate on the page you're reading while Mikey is engaging in his endless nonsensical monologue. I've lived my life in bits and spurts for the past 14 years, and I don't know who I am anymore. When I get some free time, a few hours on a Saturday afternoon, I have no idea what I even want to do - I hate starting anything, for fear I won't have time to finish it. I know I'm lost, but I have absolutely no idea how to find myself again.

Facebook

Dilemma: Facebook (& the internet in general) is my link to people & real life, since I cannot get out & do many of the things typical folks without rampant autism in their families can do. Without it, I would be even more isolated than I already am. The problem is that every time I get online, I am faced with friends' well meaning posts about how wonderful their lives are, how much fun they had going to this place or that, and how blessed they are to have the families they do. It just brings it all home how different & difficult my life is in comparison.

So do I continue to log in, to keep my link with the world but be constantly reminded how much my life sucks in comparison, or do I get offline & remain even more isolated than I am?

Smileys

Looking back over my blog, I realized I use smileys way too much. Why? Am I trying to be funny & I want to make sure people get it? Am I trying to put people in a good mood? Am I (dramatic pause) trying to get a laugh so that people don't realize just how scared I am of my own life & therefore if they laugh & think I'm really ok, they won't be scared away?

Lose it

I have been religiously logging in my daily calorie intake on a site called LoseIt.com. If the damn house elves would stop shrinking my pants, I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures. Unfortunately, I think I hate shopping for new clothes more than I hate limiting my calories. This does lead to some interesting quandries, though - at least once last week, if I was going to stay below my daily calorie limit, I had to decide between having something for dinner & having a couple glasses of wine. Guess which won out.

I suppose if I could just get more 'regular' exercise, I could expend more energy and therefore eat more (or drink more, as the case may be). Sadly, 'regular' is a word not known in this house. "Regular" would imply that I am setting aside a set number of minutes per day solely for my benefit.

Drained

Been dealing with appointments lately - doctor, dentist, eye doctor, podiatrist, orthopedist, autism specialist... mostly for the boys, although I admit to a dentist & eye appointment in there, too. The boys both have been diagnosed with flat feet and need orthodics; seems I have flat feet too, and never knew it, & could use the orthodics, too. The doctor asked if I didn't get sore backs & legs after walking - I told him yes, but I figured I was just getting old. :-)

Did I mention all of these appointments have been within the past couple weeks, and we still have a few more to go? I thought I was being sensible by scheduling them all at once; you know, get them over with & all. Only problem is I am completely exhausted & trying to stay positive that I will have enough energy to make it to the last appointment.

One of the worst parts about raising my two teenage autistic sons by myself is that I am so completely drained all the time. I have no extra energy for the boys, let alone myself, by the time dinner rolls around. I have so many projects I'd like to start; weavings, costuming, tie dye, jewelry, but I just don't have the energy left to do anything. By the time they're in bed, I'm collapsing as well. I miss being creative. People will say, "Make the time!" I would love to have them come live my life for a week & then would love to hear where they would 'make the time'.

House Rules

We're reading this book for our book club. It was my suggestion. I hadn't read it; someone had suggested it to me because it's about a single mom with an Asperger's son who gets accused of murder, and I'm a single mom with an Aspie son as well as one on the low functioning end of the Autism scale. We were looking for suggestions of what to read for the month, so I threw this one out there & they all agreed.

I'm really regretting it now. I'm about halfway through the book, and I honestly don't know if I can finish it. Difficult barely begins to describe how it is to read this book; to go through all the things this mom goes through; basically, I'm living all the crappy parts of my life all over again. Every raw emotion; every doubt for the future.... it just hits home way too close. I can't even write any more on this post.