The Day of a Mommy

The conversations we have at home during the day are always interesting. If we're not out & about, Miss Fabulous is typically busy imagining, creating, and ALWAYS talking, talking, talking.

Today she asked to borrow my cell phone. Why do you want my cell phone? "I'm working on a craft project." You can't do craft projects on my phone. "Yes, I know, I'm just creating something and I need to borrow it for a little while. I promise I will respect the phone!" Um, my phone is in the car. "Will you please get it? I really need it." Okay, the phone is dead anyway, you can use it and then I'll remember to charge it. With that Miss Fabulous designed phones for herself and the dogs. They've been texting all afternoon. She's better at it than I am...

Earlier, she informed me that we needed to "sell this house and buy a new one with a pool immediately!" Why? It doesn't really work like that, it takes time to sell and time to buy. "We MUST, I want our dogs to learn to swim and enjoy a real pool!" A little more begging, "what if I'm really, really, really good?" and "we could sneak the dogs into the pools at night," and a little more explaining... And with that, she and dogs walked around the house wearing innertubes for about 30 minutes. We're not moving either.

Then, "Mom, please buy a Chevy! We need it!" What? I like my car, why would I want a Chevy? We don't watch much tv but her ability to memorize mundane things like commercials is astounding. A few weeks ago we needed Total Tranformation because her behavior was not her fault, then I was told loudly at a restaurant I could no longer take Advil but had to use Pamprin for my headaches because the adverse side effects were going to get me.

Once she tried to push my On-Star button in the car. Excuse me? What are you doing Miss Fabulous? "The lady on the commercials is so nice, I just wanted to tell her hi." Yeah, well, that lady is an actress and you'll have to understand that not all of them are that nice or helpful when you call. "No mom, that's not her. You are just remembering that navigation lady that sent you to the ghetto at night and I think she's a robot or maybe an alien."

So what is the world is this about a Chevy??? "They have remote controls and even a kid can drive and park them." Great...all the kids like mine will be grabbing the car keys for joyrides.

It's not even 3pm and I already have the topper for the day, I think. "Mom, how come people have smelly backsides?" What do you mean? You know what the back end does, part of life. "Well mom, if you, like, have an itch and you, like, scratch your butt crack and then smell it, it smells, like, really, really disgusting." Visions of that Saturday Night Live's Mary Elizabeth Gallagher (or whatever her name...) smelling her hands after putting them into her armpits burst into my brain. Miss Fabulous...try to stop saying "like" so much and just go wash your hands.

Searching for happy...

Extreme schedules for the past several months have kept me moving and kept me from sleeping. To do list notes in the middle of the night to cover items that I forgot to take care of during the day. Waking up startled to gasp at the clock only to discover that I still have 3 more hours to sleep. I enjoy being "too busy," it's a challenge that I delight in and thrill on. But the when the schedule changes and I have ample time to go about things slowly, I don't do quite as well. Combine that with a psychological breakdown again with a family member that invades my happy space.

The night before Miss Fabulous had her dance recital this year, I was sitting with my wonderful mother-in-law and husband. Just chatting and enjoying each other's company. The phone rang at 8:30 that night and I just should never have answered it. It was my mom...enter psychological disorder. She wanted to know if my in-laws were here. Yup and then I knew I had to walk out of my house to avoid everyone hearing what was sure to be an episode of real drama island. She then informed me that, AGAIN this year, she absolutely would not sit next to my family at the recital. She still believes that everyone has been talking about her for the past two and a half years after her last MAJOR episode of acting out. Puhleez, we're all still trying to forget...

I tried to reason with her. Didn't work, but I should have expected that. Growing more and more upset, I tried explaining to her that avoiding everyone wasn't making things better, it was continuing to set herself apart and destroying the family. She said she just couldn't, she "had to be true to herself." Apparently being true to yourself means that you can then tell your daughter that you don't like her husband of nearly 20 years and just don't want to be around him.

Her anger at my husband is misplaced. During the disastrous episode a few years ago, my dad was advised by his counselor to leave the home (and her) for a bit to calm her down and/or attempt to open her eyes to her destructive behavior patterns. So, after discussing this with me, we agreed that my dad should come to our home for the short term. In an effort to avoid drama and fighting with my mom, I asked my much calmer husband to go with my dad to move his clothing from their home to ours. My mom demanded that my husband leave her home, my husband apologized and said that he was only there to help dad and would leave as soon as possible. He only went because I asked him to and unfortunately he got the blame. He says he's okay with it, I'm not anywhere near okay.

I have been with my husband for 22 years. In September, we'll have been married for 20 years. I've stayed with him for a reason. As all marriages go, we've had our ups & downs but we have stayed together for a reason. Even when I'm contemplating where I will bury his body, he's still MY pain in the XXX and if anyone else wanted to go after him, they'd have to get through me first.

He is the person I can go to and clear my thoughts or to get a neutral perspective. When I roll something around in my head and it's bothering me, I can say it and obsess about it and he never complains (even when he's heard it 42 times in one night.) He definitely tells me when he disagrees or when he thinks I'm wrong, but he is usually the voice of reason for me and the one person who can get me to slow down and retool my thoughts to a more productive state.

To hear my rabid mother tell me that not only is she still mad at my dad, but now she hates my husband, pretty much set fire to my distress mode. Once I got off the phone I came back into the house. I'm not the best actress, was obviously not quite myself, and was asked what happened. Enter anger, embarrassment, and waterworks. All I had to do was get through the next day of recitals - I was backstage and wouldn't have to deal with her. That worked fine.

However, Monday came, and with it...incessant phone calls from my mom. Every 15 minutes on the home phone and my cell phone. Some odd "call me" messages and mostly just hang-ups. I avoided answering for the first 3 hours. When I couldn't take anymore, I called back. I expected more drama. I'm sure she realized what she had said and done and was aware that I would be angry or upset but she didn't attempt to repair or even acknowledge. I got off the call as quickly as possible.

Then came Father's Day and the dread of having to visit and see her. Uncomfortable but I had my husband there with me so I felt a little more at ease that there would be no show down. Then her birthday and more emotional dread for the impending visit. I would have prefered to dive head first into my own vomit than visit, but I pushed myself to do the right thing and go. I know what it feels like when your mother doesn't acknowledge your birthday and I didn't want to do the same to her. It's wonderful to have a child with you and know that the drama will be at bay as long as that child is in the room. I would have superglued Miss Fabulous to me that day. I made an excuse and we had a fast exit.

There are days when the incessant calls continue. I just can't pick up that phone the first time. I have to prepare myself mentally to take the call, just in case it's another one of "those days." But avoiding just isn't working, it's weighing heavily on my soul. I'm upset that a mother could say the things she has to me - psychological disorder or not. I'm furious that my husband was brought into this and I'm just plain mad at being in this situation repeatedly.

My house is my happy place. I can enjoy my family, my thoughts, and the very noisy peace that Miss Fabulous brings me during the day. But with that phone and the thoughts I can't clear my head of, I haven't been able to maintain my peace. I feel absolutely exhausted as if a piece of my soul has been stolen. My usual escapes of running and vacuuming aren't helping. I have rebuilt my giant wall to keep people out and distrust of others has fully returned between this and a few other incidents that June has brought with it.

I haven't been able to replace my overwhelming feeling of joy that I've regained and maintained over the past several years. I'm not certain at all as to how to get it back but I know I need to find my happy again.

But I kept my mouth shut...

I'm pretty upset with myself. I've let something go on in my child's classroom for months now without making it stop. I should have spoken up sooner but...I like the teachers as people so much and didn't want to put further wedgies in the situation, I already call conferences regularly just to deal with the educational issues. But this one was harder, it was just about being mean.

We all hate confrontation, I get that. I avoid dealing with inappropriate social issues like the plague, even when I know I should be saying something. It's just too much and I'd just rather focus on the good stuff. The important stuff.

I joined the PTA in school. I loved it, but....it took time to break in because I wasn't "one of the regular group." I had to assertively ASK to be able to participate and volunteer, repeatedly ask, and then repeatedly ask again. It wasn't a very welcoming environment. But I keep my mouth shut.

I'm a kindergarten mom. I don't dress up for PTA meetings, I see no purpose in running from my child's activities, taking care of my child, cleaning the house, taking care of the dogs, and getting my runs in to bother with putting on heels, jewelry, sparkles, and doing my hair to impress another group of MOMS. I don't understand why THEY do it - it's not status, it doesn't give you more money, it doesn't help your kid, and it further excludes you from the majority of mothers and fathers who also don't have the time or energy to do that. I've heard people say it, this is why they don't show up for the meetings. The PTA for next year's school is very different and I'm looking forward to that environment. But, this year, I keep my mouth shut.

I gathered more than ten thousand dollars in donations for the school's silent auctions, while watching others report that they just didn't have the time and couldn't get around to doing things. Why in the world did they not ASK for help? So many people were willing to do it! But I kept my mouth shut.

Then I got to listen to other moms who had "flaked" on their own tasks make jokes about some of the donations I had gotten. Inside my head, I'm thinking "you ladies are serious losers; you do the bare minimum but critique others who have performed, you are making fun of business people who want to help YOUR children, but great job on your necklace and outfit. Petty, petty, petty women." But I kept my mouth shut.

Keeping our mouths shut is really what we're supposed to do when you're around rude people, right?! Some things don't need attention and some things don't need to be shared when it hurts others. I mean, that's what I try to teach my daughter, just ignore them and concentrate on yourself and your own behavior. In reality I'd rather beat their faces in, but I know...that's not right. Keep your mouth shut.

But really, this time I'm bothered and disappointed in myself. I kept my mouth shut when I should have opened it MUCH sooner. My child is in a pretty mean classroom. Apparently half the children were never taught manners appropriately, single other children out, speak horribly to each other, and even though the note went home in the newsletter to talk to our kids about being mean...it did no good.

Labels are abundant in our classroom and it's gotten worse all year. With a particular activity that the teacher is doing, it's being enforced and upheld and going to extremes with the children. Not only do they create friend lists for their memory books, they're creating good friend lists and BAD friend lists. And then they're putting the lists in their "bad" friend's backpacks and TELLING kids that they're bad. If the teacher shows everyone that someone has had bad behavior, the kids believe that that child is bad and have been saying it all year long.

I like our teacher. She's great, she's a wonderful person. I didn't want to make waves. I understood what she was trying to accomplish. But I heard this going on all. year. long. I kept my mouth shut. In this instance I failed. I failed my Miss Fabulous. I failed the other kids. I failed as a mother.

So today, with 6 days left of school, and now that I can not make a difference in changing this behavior and help the kids, I finally spoke up. I wrote a lengthy, detailed, and polite email to the teacher. I kept my mouth shut too long and I feel absolutely horrible about not taking care of this. Kids got hurt. Kids learned some really bad social behaviors.

My stomach is in knots and I feel horrible that I sent the email while still glad that I took the step and finally took care of expressing myself over this. Maybe it'll help future kids. Maybe the teachers next year will be able to redirect the kids to appropriate behaviors.

But in this instance, I know I failed. Because I kept my mouth shut.

God Listens

I got exactly what I asked for. Just realizing this. Years ago, when my mom worked as a special ed teacher and I used to go with her to home visits, volunteer with her classes, and volunteer in her friends' classes, I said it. I liked working with her kids so much that I did so in every free moment. I continued it in college and as an adult. I forgot what I said so many years ago.

6 years ago, I had a little girl after 13 years of marriage. After having given up on being able to have a child long before. We knew at about 7 months old that our daughter was different. Different in a good way. She was speaking words and knew her colors - at 7 months old. No joke. She could spell and write her name at 1 year. She was writing small words and reading sight words at 16 months old. When she was 3 she was doing basic math, writing small books of her own, and reading any book we put in front of her. She had mastered phonics at 2 1/2. She spoke like an adult with a tiny voice and a huge vocabulary.

Every parent believes their child is gifted. And they all are, in their own little ways. Everyone is good at something. Everyone is different and special. And too many parents are competitive. I shut up and tried to hide it. A parent sees your child reading, asks about it, and insists they've memorized the book. "No, it's a new book, she's just an early reader." A coincidence and I'm a liar. Sure, whatever. I'm not competing with you.

The friends want to know what you specifically did. What toys? What did you read? What videos? How do you teach that? Ummm....I'm happy to give you a list of everything. The thing is, Miss Fabulous is just different. Yes it's impressive and yes it's unreal to see. It freaks some teachers and directors out. But what they don't often see is how extreme she can be in other ways. Her teachers know this.

I mention quietly that we're having a drama queen day to the teacher. A nearby parent mentions that theirs is exactly the same way. A teacher speaks up and says "oh, well, Miss Fabulous is actually the master of that one." I give her warning in those modes. People have no idea what drama means until they live in my house for 24 hours. No, she's not a brat. That's just her. In most moments you will see a very sweet, funny, and respectful child. In other moments, you will see a tantrum like you've never experienced. One teacher suggested counseling. I suggested level-appropriate work rather than age-appropriate work. Amazing how those meltdowns diminished. Not gone, just fewer.

Others may think a missing toy is sad and something to get upset about. In our house, that can mean up to 3 hours of screaming, crying, demanding, hysterics. There is NO consoling. There is no stopping it. There is no reason, even for a small child. Mommy hugs will not make it better.

So, yes, my child tests at the highly gifted range. She is different. The skills are impressive and unbelievable. Then the parents want to compete. But they don't know about all the experts I'd had to consult, all the calls and questions I've made. The money we've spent on consultants and testing. They don't understand the level of research to figure out how to solve small problems that other kids don't have and still not getting answers. There is no "What to Expect" book for Gifted Children.

Don't get me wrong, it's a blessing. I'm happy to be a constant advocate for my child. But it's also very tiring. Going to a parent/teacher conference year after year, having the principal and directors attend too, is overwhelming. And every time I ask about ideas for kids like this, I get to hear "I've NEVER had a child like Miss Fabulous." We're all searching for help and answers.

I have so many theories from my research and so many ideas on brain functions. But I don't have the funding to properly conduct more research and studies. I don't have the connection to all the experts. Yet!

Today though, I remembered something I said years ago - as a teenager. I loved my time with the severe and profound special education students so much that I had said "I hope when I have a child, I get to have one like that - they're such a blessing and a gift."

Well, my child is exactly that, just a different side of the spectrum. She was an absolute surprise blessing. She shouldn't have been concieved. I was given a gift and I got exactly what I asked for.

I think God was listening.