Okay. So, it's 10:30pm. I'm sitting in my living room. All I can think is just how much stuff I have to do tomorrow. Drop my son off at PPCD, travel an hour away to sign paperwork for free ABA services, pick him up from PPCD and take him to the doctor, just to get some referrals that my pediatrician has to write up *new pediatrician by the way*, then take him to his private school that he goes to. All this is fine. It will be crazy trying to hit everthing by the appt time...*8am, 9am, 10:50am, 12:45pm. fine. fine. and fine.
What's really irritating me lately. Is everybody else. Have I lost my mind? It seems that I'm all alone. I told him of the above appts.-his answer-cancel one. Are you kidding me? We're on a four month waitlist as it is for free ABA. And the doctors appt, she'll only see us at a certain time, once a week, *she has it in her head that I want to talk about autism. Which is funny, I'm seriously autism 24/7 over here and that's the one thing I don't want to talk about, just give me my referrals lady. Sorry, rambling.
Back to hubby. He's never home. I'm alone with the kids from 6:30am to after they go to sleep. I don't know if it's escapism that he's after, I can't tell, really, I don't want to know. What I want, however, is understanding. He had the gall to tell me that he thought the reason that I went to confrences and resource fairs was to figure out how to "fix" my son, so that it would be easier on me and I wouldn't need help. Then he was said, "well, I'd rather just come home earlier so you can study like three hours a day."WHAT??? First of all, *oh, I'm furious at this point* I don't have any intention on fixing my son, helping my son, that's what I'm doing. Also trying to trouble shoot for later on down the road. Seriously, that's not what I need help with. My son is a piece of cake. I was built for this, really. What I wasn't built for a husband whose negative and thinks that I go to conferences for help. I need help doing the laundry....sweeping...mopping.
So then there's my "support group". If that's what you want to call it. I know they're fake. You can see it. Crap, my mom can see it. Yet, I'm starting a playgroup. Half these people didn't even want to talk to me. I would send email after email of information. The only time some mothers would email anything was if I made a typo. Yes, seriously. So, then it happens. I get a job at a school for children with autism. What do you know...I start getting all these emails about, what have I been up to? I'd love to come hang out. Honestly, I just need a real friend with a child that has autism. Everything just seems so awkward.
I find myself not really being me because it's so awkward. I thought I was the type of person that could fit in with everyone. Maybe I'm meeting the wrong people. I don't know. I'm really ready to shut it all down. I can see why I have so many friends who are introverted now. Being alone is just easier. At the same time, I'm so alone, I'm lonely. Isn't that a catch 22.
Alas, so here I am...alone. I have my children. That's all I have. That's what it feels like. Me and my two children...against the world. Man, I'm usually so chipper. This is nuts.
Speaking of nuts. This lady really pissed me off. She works at my son's school. She told me that she doesn't like working with autistic kids, she's burnt out, hates. You can tell. Anyway, she was my son's aid today, she pissed me off. I almost started crying I was so angry. My son, who's 3, likes to blow on peoples' arms. It's his thing. He giggles and laughs. So his teacher's aid is putting him in the car and he goes to blow on her, and she says "no more blow...i don't want anymore blowing". I was like...are you kidding me!! He's three and he's happy. He just wants to be affectionate with you. I don't know. It really made me rethink weather or not I want him in that school. I know I can't protect him forever and trust me, he has it hard at home. He doesn't get away with anything. I have to teach him...but that still doesn't give anyone the right to tell any three year old, that's just trying to be affectionate, that doesn't have a voice, that they don't want their affection.