Blech.
I've had this headache for over 48 hours now, and it kind of keeps moving in and out of nausea/headache/jawache/eyeache/blurry vision/etc. In many ways a classic migraine. I ate some wheaty foods the other night and I do believe that is what triggered this. Ick.
Anyhoo! Random notes...
My beautiful boy has experienced major success on neighborhood swim team! Yay!
I have a water phobia -- possibly because I nearly drowned as a toddler? -- and I have always dreamed of the day when Bodhi could swim well. So I've had him in lessons for as long as I can remember now. I loved being on swim team when I was a kid, and on the team in high school. I've talked it up a bit and he seemed especially interested in the idea of getting a trophy, so it wasn't a huge surprise when he asked me if he could be on the team this summer. Soooo....
He's been doing it! And we've been going to meets every Saturday, which has been great and weird. The social aspect of doing anything in the community cannot be underestimated, my friends. For I sit and watch and (hover, okay, I hover) help the kids at practice every day. And I'm the only parent to do so. But then my kid is the youngest on the team. And he's got the sensory issue thing. He is by far the most exuberant kid on the team, if splashing and yelling and laughing is any indicator. I just think it's weird that the other parents are so tentative with me. Not hostile, but when I see them they are just strange to talk to. I'm way more into shit than most people, I know that, I am a NERD, but come on. I guess I'm this grey haired, overly protective, silly person they can't categorize. Or something. So yeah, you might say the other parents are not exactly friendly. Okay then. And the coach is...well, he's new. And he clearly hasn't had much experience managing kids, especially younger ones. They all run roughshod over the poor guy. And he hasn't quite gotten the "coach" part of the job down. He's a little timid and doesn't even really speak loud enough to be heard over splashing.
I don't mean to sound critical here. I've been puzzling over this stuff for weeks. It's been one of those situations where I feel like I'm taking crazy pills for sure.
We've been to three swim meets and each time there is at least one other team where everyone has on matching suits and caps and is painted up with the colors of their team, and they have a couple of coaches running around working with the kids...and the parents are into it, and they're all cheering each other on...you know, it's like a Real Team.
Cut to: our team. Coach scurrying around with a clip board, us not even knowing who else on our team is here to swim, the weird sort of unfriendly parents not saying much to us or inviting us to sit with them...I know, I know. I have to reach out to people too. I'm not shy. And my feelings get hurt easily. It's a terrible combination. But I find it just...bizarre. So yah, no team spirit or cohesion. And it makes me feel bad for the kids, who aren't getting the awesome experience of cheering for each other, or being cheered on, and working hard and sometimes winning something.
But this swim team thing...it's been my therapy all month while my therapist vacations in Vermont. I've had to do some major childhood healing stuff. And in the midst of it, two of my worst nightmares came true: one of the kids told me Bodhi was a "weirdo." And another of the kids kicked him in the stomach because Bodhi was annoying him and wouldn't stop splashing him. It has been a BONANZA of testing out my core beliefs and my parenting skills. My nightmare is that if I sent B to a larger school with fewer teachers and more unsupervised kids, he'd get called names and kicked in the gut or worse. So I guess it's good that it happened in the microcosm of swim team, and we survived it.
With the kid who told me my son was a weirdo, I said "I LOVE WEIRDOS," which she found befuddling. Then I told her "weirdos are the coolest people" when she said "You love weirdos? You're supposed to like cool-os." Nope, little sister, nope.
So good, maybe as she grows she'll recall that someone out there loves weirdos so when she gets called that she'll feel slightly less affronted, perhaps? It was hard not to hold that against her from then on, but I know what it's like to be struggling through all that social construction.
And then the kid who kicked B in the stomach...well. When I gently confronted him about it, he admitted he did it because he was mad. Then I said, "Okay, but you do know that it's not okay to hit other people just because we're mad at them, right?" And he said he knew it. I also said "You guys can still be friends, and you can get mad at each other, but nobody hits or kicks each other, right?" And I commended him for admitting that he kicked B out of anger. Because honestly, I was impressed that he owned it. And told him mom what happened too.
Of course I had to explain to B what his otherwise-friendly person had said, and that it was never okay for another kid to kick or hit him or call him a name. I've had to intervene on this front several times this year. My belief is that the kid who loses their shit and hits or calls someone a name needs to back up, own their feelings, and learn that they can't just strike out like that. Also, B has to learn to take in "Stop that!" when he is doing something that annoys another person. To that end, I have created a point system. We have a chart, and every time he stops himself when someone says "Stop!" (including me and dad) he gets a point, which starts adding up to a Lego reward. This system appears to be working.
We've been reading a great book called "Transforming the Difficult Child," aka "The Nurtured Heart Approach" and are implementing some of the tools it suggests, like focusing on the behavior we DO want rather than on what we don't want. So for example, giving B points and lots of attention when he DOES stop is making a big difference. It's rewarding instead of punishing. I mean, we haven't perfected the system by any means, but it has been a great tool so far.
OKAY. SO BACK TO SWIM TEAM.
He's won a third, second, and first place ribbon in freestyle. I was so proud of him last weekend when he took first place in his heat against three other little guys, two of whom had beaten him the week before. And to see his pride in himself for winning...oh my God. Nothing like that in all the world! It makes my heart burst with joy just to think of it. After how hard he has worked...
I know what some of you might be thinking: "Jesus, Lady. It's just a little neighborhood pool swim team. Can't a kid just be a kid and relax and have fun?"
Well, yes. But some kids need structure and hard work to keep them focused so they feel safe to express themselves. They need to know the rules before they can play the game. They need to have the structure and form in place before they can blow it apart or create new form. That is my experience, and my belief.
Also, I am very competitive. Highly so. I'm not totally proud of this, but it has served me more than hurt me. And I don't think it's a bad quality, as long as you don't set out to hurt another person. Or compete to win at all costs. That is not a victory to celebrate, I know.
We are planning to go to the city swim meet this weekend and swim against all the other neighborhood teams. I hope he wins a ribbon, but even if he doesn't, he knows what it feels like to come in first.
Delicious and hard-won.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Sunday, June 22, 2014
When Did I Stop Writing?
Whew, all.
My last post was written at the end of last summer, just as things were starting to get interesting around here.
1) The rollercoaster of emotion and turmoil that resulted in me and my brother having to file for permanent guardianship of our sister. The state facility where she lives may be on the chopping block by the state, but not this year, it looks like. We met with the team hired to transition state living center residents out into "the community," which led to visiting numerous group homes and adult dayhab facilities...a rather unpleasant and discouraging series of events. I had to fight it out with the team members to keep them from placing my sister in an unacceptable home, and ended up having to contact the center's ombudsman and sic my own attorney on them to make it stop. Meanwhile. I befriended the local journalist who covers this issue, and many folks high and higher up in various state government positions. I even contacted, and got action and sympathy from, my local representative's office.
This all went on from August last year to April of this year. And we haven't had the guardianship hearing yet. Next month. One day before the annual staff review to determine placement of my sister. We want her to stay where she is, where she has lived for these past 40 years, at least for now. Until I can find a better situation for her in my town.
2) Some of the fallout from this thing with my sister was that I learned my mother is in terrible shape. She moved out of her own mother's house and back into her house, where we grew up, in Houston. Trying to orchestrate appointments with specialists from a distance, while starting my child in a new school and also having to research and visit homes for my sister - proved challenging.
Mom simply cannot take care of herself, something she has never been great at, even with whole body and mind. Every patient should have a state-issued doula, in my opinion. Older folks especially. In Texas we have such limited services that to be an older, mentally ill, and/or disabled person means you are seriously fucked. Our politicos believe that only the rich deserve to be cared for, that the poor or less fortunate have brought it on themselves and deserve to die.
Maybe that's putting it a little harshly, but when push comes to shove...that is what it's like. At least with the state there is some sort of mechanism in place for monitoring abuse, despite the lower-than-shit wages they pay to care for our most vulnerable citizens. With private homes, it's much harder to stay on top of the living conditions of the residents. One of the private group homes I visited had a fantastic cosmetic appearance, but the woman running the company that owned the home left me (and my brother) with a really bad feeling, like she was in the business to make money...rather than truly provide a loving, safe place for her residents. And the day hab she took us to visit was HORRIFIC. It was overcrowded, run down, and I was struck at least twice by one of the residents ("consumers" she calls them, they all call them, in an effort to make it sound more like we have a choice) who needed to be restrained by one of the VERY few staff members.
The nicest, cleanest, most calm and inspiring day hab facility we visited told us - at the end of our visit - that they did not have space for wheelchair consumers there, since they could not afford to do the build it would require to provide safe exits. Another bummer.
So I am hoping that by this time next year we have figured something out for her. I really want her to be close to us, in her own place, with the full time care she requires. I miss her and long for her to be part of our family again.
3) Oh right, I derailed from the topic of my mother onto the topic of my sister. Well, they are intermingled. And both situations at the moment are on hold.
4) I had to ask my brother to move out of our house. He is now back with our mom.
5) School was not perfect, but part of growing up has been realizing that NO school is perfect! And well, for us, this place is as good as it gets. In the end, we have decided to stay there. The community is pretty wonderful. And so are the teachers. I strongly believe, at least at this stage of B's life, that having amazing teachers who care deeply for him and for our family is the Most Important Thing. It took me awhile to reach out and let people know that certain social things were not happening for us, and that has since shifted.
6) Oh, right after school started, I got hired (with a writing partner) to rewrite a screenplay for local producers! I made a nice chunk of money, and it was a thrilling (and hard as hell) experience. I forgot what it was like to deal with high strung movie types, and it was pretty unpleasant. The creative side of it was a blast - really hard work that is totally absorbing - but trying to negotiate money terms...way more strained and difficult than it should have been. I ended up writing for an entire day for free, something I will not do again. I can't say that I made good connections with the project, because ultimately they were not happy with the work we did, but I was damn proud of my work anyway. I think it took it out of me, because I have not really spent a solid chunk of time screenwriting since then. EXCEPT...
7) My writing mentor advised me to take the rest of my winter and spring to rewrite my two solid scripts, and submit them to a couple of major competitions. So I did. It was hell to do, since I am chomping at the bit to finish writing my punk rock moms story, but meanwhile I have continued my screenwriting meetup, submitted my scripts, did Ladies Rock Camp (and played guitar in my band at Beerland!) and have bonded with a director friend who wants to work with me. My dream for myself this year is to be a part of the Austin filmmaking community as a screenwriter and more. I am just now starting to stir and move toward that.
8) Yoga. Well. I'm so ambivalent about it, beyond how I utilize it in my daily life, that I can't even get up the energy to lead another workshop. Not right now.
9) God. Well, I kind of stopped believing in God. I never get that blissed-out feeling I used to have when I was in the yoga cult, that sensation of my own specialness and mystical connection to the divine. I believe now that it's something I manufactured to help me deal with the unbearable heaviness of being. I'm open to believe again, I just can't do it right now. I do have experiences that show me how the Universe does for me what I cannot do for myself, and I do get most of my relief and satisfaction from the moments where I feel like I've surrendered trying to control everything. But is that God? Maybe.
What do you think?
It's summer, and the only structure to our days at the moment is swim team practice from 10-11 every morning. We did not go to our first meet yesterday, since we were overbooked with several activities, two of which fell through. So next weekend! B wants a ribbon! And I want him to get one. He is enjoying the practice, except for the small faction of mean kids. And they're probably just being kids, unsupervised, but they told me he was "weird," they purposely excluded him from their games, and they yell "stop!" at him so vociferously and loudly when he splashes them that it hurts. We had a breakthrough with it the other day. One of the kids yelled "stop!" and he actually DID. He looked right at me, and stopped himself. It was a joyful moment. A much bigger moment than would have been obvious to anyone else at the pool. He hasn't been able to repeat it since then, but at least now we know it is in him.
There is a camp coming up for gifted kids that I wanted him to do, but it is SO expensive. We are going to really struggle to make it. And then there is a monster movie making camp at the end of summer that I KNOW he is going to love.
And then I am hoping to have a weekend cabin retreat near a swimming hole with some of my cousins, a dream I have had for a long time, and a much -needed family road trip.
I am having major wanderlust. I want to go visit my friends in Sedona and Prescott, and my family in Washington state and in the northeast. And Belize....
oh my.
What about you?
My last post was written at the end of last summer, just as things were starting to get interesting around here.
1) The rollercoaster of emotion and turmoil that resulted in me and my brother having to file for permanent guardianship of our sister. The state facility where she lives may be on the chopping block by the state, but not this year, it looks like. We met with the team hired to transition state living center residents out into "the community," which led to visiting numerous group homes and adult dayhab facilities...a rather unpleasant and discouraging series of events. I had to fight it out with the team members to keep them from placing my sister in an unacceptable home, and ended up having to contact the center's ombudsman and sic my own attorney on them to make it stop. Meanwhile. I befriended the local journalist who covers this issue, and many folks high and higher up in various state government positions. I even contacted, and got action and sympathy from, my local representative's office.
This all went on from August last year to April of this year. And we haven't had the guardianship hearing yet. Next month. One day before the annual staff review to determine placement of my sister. We want her to stay where she is, where she has lived for these past 40 years, at least for now. Until I can find a better situation for her in my town.
2) Some of the fallout from this thing with my sister was that I learned my mother is in terrible shape. She moved out of her own mother's house and back into her house, where we grew up, in Houston. Trying to orchestrate appointments with specialists from a distance, while starting my child in a new school and also having to research and visit homes for my sister - proved challenging.
Mom simply cannot take care of herself, something she has never been great at, even with whole body and mind. Every patient should have a state-issued doula, in my opinion. Older folks especially. In Texas we have such limited services that to be an older, mentally ill, and/or disabled person means you are seriously fucked. Our politicos believe that only the rich deserve to be cared for, that the poor or less fortunate have brought it on themselves and deserve to die.
Maybe that's putting it a little harshly, but when push comes to shove...that is what it's like. At least with the state there is some sort of mechanism in place for monitoring abuse, despite the lower-than-shit wages they pay to care for our most vulnerable citizens. With private homes, it's much harder to stay on top of the living conditions of the residents. One of the private group homes I visited had a fantastic cosmetic appearance, but the woman running the company that owned the home left me (and my brother) with a really bad feeling, like she was in the business to make money...rather than truly provide a loving, safe place for her residents. And the day hab she took us to visit was HORRIFIC. It was overcrowded, run down, and I was struck at least twice by one of the residents ("consumers" she calls them, they all call them, in an effort to make it sound more like we have a choice) who needed to be restrained by one of the VERY few staff members.
The nicest, cleanest, most calm and inspiring day hab facility we visited told us - at the end of our visit - that they did not have space for wheelchair consumers there, since they could not afford to do the build it would require to provide safe exits. Another bummer.
So I am hoping that by this time next year we have figured something out for her. I really want her to be close to us, in her own place, with the full time care she requires. I miss her and long for her to be part of our family again.
3) Oh right, I derailed from the topic of my mother onto the topic of my sister. Well, they are intermingled. And both situations at the moment are on hold.
4) I had to ask my brother to move out of our house. He is now back with our mom.
5) School was not perfect, but part of growing up has been realizing that NO school is perfect! And well, for us, this place is as good as it gets. In the end, we have decided to stay there. The community is pretty wonderful. And so are the teachers. I strongly believe, at least at this stage of B's life, that having amazing teachers who care deeply for him and for our family is the Most Important Thing. It took me awhile to reach out and let people know that certain social things were not happening for us, and that has since shifted.
6) Oh, right after school started, I got hired (with a writing partner) to rewrite a screenplay for local producers! I made a nice chunk of money, and it was a thrilling (and hard as hell) experience. I forgot what it was like to deal with high strung movie types, and it was pretty unpleasant. The creative side of it was a blast - really hard work that is totally absorbing - but trying to negotiate money terms...way more strained and difficult than it should have been. I ended up writing for an entire day for free, something I will not do again. I can't say that I made good connections with the project, because ultimately they were not happy with the work we did, but I was damn proud of my work anyway. I think it took it out of me, because I have not really spent a solid chunk of time screenwriting since then. EXCEPT...
7) My writing mentor advised me to take the rest of my winter and spring to rewrite my two solid scripts, and submit them to a couple of major competitions. So I did. It was hell to do, since I am chomping at the bit to finish writing my punk rock moms story, but meanwhile I have continued my screenwriting meetup, submitted my scripts, did Ladies Rock Camp (and played guitar in my band at Beerland!) and have bonded with a director friend who wants to work with me. My dream for myself this year is to be a part of the Austin filmmaking community as a screenwriter and more. I am just now starting to stir and move toward that.
8) Yoga. Well. I'm so ambivalent about it, beyond how I utilize it in my daily life, that I can't even get up the energy to lead another workshop. Not right now.
9) God. Well, I kind of stopped believing in God. I never get that blissed-out feeling I used to have when I was in the yoga cult, that sensation of my own specialness and mystical connection to the divine. I believe now that it's something I manufactured to help me deal with the unbearable heaviness of being. I'm open to believe again, I just can't do it right now. I do have experiences that show me how the Universe does for me what I cannot do for myself, and I do get most of my relief and satisfaction from the moments where I feel like I've surrendered trying to control everything. But is that God? Maybe.
What do you think?
It's summer, and the only structure to our days at the moment is swim team practice from 10-11 every morning. We did not go to our first meet yesterday, since we were overbooked with several activities, two of which fell through. So next weekend! B wants a ribbon! And I want him to get one. He is enjoying the practice, except for the small faction of mean kids. And they're probably just being kids, unsupervised, but they told me he was "weird," they purposely excluded him from their games, and they yell "stop!" at him so vociferously and loudly when he splashes them that it hurts. We had a breakthrough with it the other day. One of the kids yelled "stop!" and he actually DID. He looked right at me, and stopped himself. It was a joyful moment. A much bigger moment than would have been obvious to anyone else at the pool. He hasn't been able to repeat it since then, but at least now we know it is in him.
There is a camp coming up for gifted kids that I wanted him to do, but it is SO expensive. We are going to really struggle to make it. And then there is a monster movie making camp at the end of summer that I KNOW he is going to love.
And then I am hoping to have a weekend cabin retreat near a swimming hole with some of my cousins, a dream I have had for a long time, and a much -needed family road trip.
I am having major wanderlust. I want to go visit my friends in Sedona and Prescott, and my family in Washington state and in the northeast. And Belize....
oh my.
What about you?
Obligatory Ultrasound Photo: Shoulderstand at 16 weeks!