school clothes

I've reached the end of my rope.

We've known about Daniel's clothing sensitivities since way before they told about that "thing" called Sensory Integration Disorder.

I learned quickly which clothes soothed him and which one agitated him when he was a baby. He has never been able to wear shirts with appliqués on them. And we make it a habit to take out all tags and turn his socks inside out.

I'm used to it.

And yet.... When this Summer arrived and he refused to wear any shorts but the 2 that he has worn for the last 2 years.... I admit it threw me for a loop.

I thought it was a passing phase. After all, I had just bought him a bunch of shorts, that he had tried on and approved as acceptable. Each and every one had an adjustable waist, to accommodate his thin frame and non-existent back-end.  All washed and put away, only to be pushed aside again and again in favor of the ugly, dirty pair that lay on the floor.

I confronted him. To say that we had an altercation over shorts, is to put it mildly. We have been fighting over shorts, and now clothes in general in knockdown drag-out fights all Summer long.

I gave in. His summer uniform became white t-shirts and those 2 pairs of shorts. I did laundry more often, and I looked the other way when he wore dirty clothes.

We are both bone-tired of fighting about clothes.

For some reason, I thought that he could control how he felt about the clothes. I approached the situation as if it was just a matter of personal taste on his part. Which of course I realize now, on this tenth week of summer vacation, that it is not. He can no more change his sensitivities than I can become an alligator wrestler.

But I am all about the consequences these days, so I told him that because he had approved clothing that I had ordered, just to get me "to leave him alone", then he would have to go to the stores with me and GO SHOPPING FOR CLOTHES.

And he did. We went to store after store. We focused only on the jeans and I brought him heaping armfuls to try on. Which he did.

In every store I told him of our pact, "If you say yes to a pair of pants and I buy it, then you are obligated to wear it without complaint". In some cases, he rethought his decisions and we walked out with nothing.

I'd like to make myself look good here, but I have to tell you that as I watched him discard pair after pair of jeans and I thought ahead to just how few stores there are that have pants that fit a child with no waist... I lost it. There were tears in the dressing room.

Sometimes it's hard to figure out what is a sensory issue and what is a punk-head brat issue. They so often look the same.

And lo! There is an end to this post!

We now have enough jeans to last us a week of school. He promises me that he'll wear them. And I bought a new pack of those Hanes white t-shirts.

But I bought the next size up so that they would fit him....

and he tells me he can't wear them.

They feel funny.

as the visit winds down...

We are at that point in the visit where you are starting to think about the good-byes. Daniel doesn't know what the time frame is for people leaving yet and I have to tell him today that it will be soon.

In the past when we have had visits with my husband's family, he has cried and cried when it was time to leave. Me too, for that matter.

I have trouble, oftentimes, living in the present. Today I will have to model that behavior for Daniel, because I expect him to be upset when he finds out his grandparents and aunt will be leaving. It will be hard for me, because my anticipation of being sad is making me sad now.

BUT, he has made me so very proud. He has adjusted his behavior and willing gone to restaurants and not given us a hard time when we all pile into the minivan. He is willing giving up his ever-present Spongebob, so that his grandmother can watch the Olympics.

He still can't put on clothes without a huge struggle, but everything else is good.

In the last couple of days he is needing more deep pressure from me, so I know it isn't coming easy for him. But not many other people would know.

Last night he wanted to snuggle with me at bedtime, and he fell fast asleep sprawled out on top of me. Like a giant gangly version of that baby we took home from the hospital nearly 8 years ago.

breathing

The cleaning is done.

The in-laws are here.

I can breathe easily now.

There is something so wonderful about my husband's family, something that allows me to center myself around them. I think I may have married him just to be around his family, if I hadn't fallen in love with him first.

I remember a car ride with my dad, going to pick up my husband (then, just a boyfriend of less than a year) from a train station.... In the car I started crying and I told my dad that I thought this boyfriend was THE ONE. I just felt it, and it terrified me, because what if I was wrong? Then what do I do with this overwhelming feeling that I want to be with this person forever?

My dad tried to be supportive, but bless his heart, my family doesn't do supportive.

Anyway, it turns out I was right.

And then after I had fallen totally and completely in love with him, I met his family, and honestly, they threw me for a loop at first.

So sincere, and sweet. So unassuming and non-judgmental.

They did not manipulate me.

It was and is wonderful. Every time I'm with them (which, unfortunately isn't often), I breathe them in. I wrap myself up in the memories of these times with them when I try to make myself more balanced and centered with my son.

And you know what?
I still want to spend forever with my husband.
(Happy belated Anniversary, honey)

we survived...

the endless litany of abuses that my mother feels she has endured.

I have a feeling that this is the case for a lot of narcissists, but she constantly thinks that someone is slighting her.

Well, she's also paranoid. And actually, we are all sick and tired of her antics so maybe she isn't really that paranoid after all.

She continued almost without pause for three days straight, bad mouthing her other children and their spouses who weren't there.  Thank god for medication, because even with it there were times I thought my head was going to fly off my body and hurl itself around the room in a desperate attempt to get away from the talking, always the talking.

As it was, I medicated myself enough so that I could remain a fairly calm observer. At one point I realized that my medication was like Dumbo's magic feather. When she started to get to me, I would remember that I had taken meds and then calm down and repeat in my head, "She has no power over me, she has no power over me."

It sounds corny, but it totally worked.

So really, it should have been a horrible visit, but it was slightly less horrible.

She did apologize to me though...

Daniel accidentally broke something of hers. He still tends to flip himself about unpredictably at times and she has breakable things on every surface. And one of them was broken.

She flipped out like she used to when I was a child. Not nearly as bad, mind you, but still, not appropriate behavior for a grandmother. She accused him of doing it on purpose, and Daniel got so upset that he went into asthma-can't breathe mode.

I insisted that he apologize to her, because that's what you do when something like that happens. But he was too scared of her. So I brought the two of them together and told my mother that he was scared of her, after which he apologized.

I think she sensed just how close I was to packing up after that incident, because she apologized to me later. She didn't apologize for anything in particular, but it's rare that she ever says she's sorry, so I'll take it.

And now I have to prepare for a visit from my husband's side of the family.

They are all lovely people and I'm excited to see them, but I don't want them to see my house in it's chronic state of disarray, so it's off to do more cleaning for me.