2 posts tagged “motherly angst”

Thanks to everyone!  Your understanding and support are wonderful.

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My problem yesterday was that I was off my guard.  I didn't think of the movies as a danger zone. 

Some environments and activities, we know they're trouble.  Say, shopping at Meijer's -- you could not pay me enough to do grocery shopping with E.S. in tow.  (Believe me -- I've tried it before and it's just not worth the mental and emotional anguish.)  So we either just don't take him to those, or we're mentally prepared for the Stop-Drop-&-Roll treatment (which in this case means, Stop what you're doing, Drop everything, and Roll on out of there). 

But he's gone to countless movies over the past 3 years, and never had a problem before. 

Talking it over, D.H. and I think we made several errors in judgment.

(1) We were a little worried about going to a new Pixar movie on opening weekend.  In retrospect, we should have listened to that little worry.  The theatre was more crowded than they usually are when we go.

(2) We should have picked a row where there was no one in front of us, to be bothered by E.S. fidgets. 

(3) One of us should have taken E.S. in hand, quietly, the first time the Guy turned around.  We shouldn't have assumed that E.S. would respond appropriately to the Guy's request. 

(4) We should have had a little "review" of consideration-for-other-movie-goers ground rules, before we went in.  It would have benefited all the kids, really.  Often when we go to a public place like this, it helps a lot to have a little chat ahead of time about expected behavior and consequences for misbehavior.

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I think that normally movies aren't a problem for Eldest Son b/c he gets so engrossed in the screen world.  I think the problem here stemmed from the fact that the Guy jolted him out of that world with his first request to stop the kicking.  Up to that point, I'm quite sure E.S. was not even aware of his swinging legs, or that his feet would bother the Guy. 

All of a sudden, he's jolted out of the movie world and criticized for something he didn't even know he was doing.  Yes, the Guy was calm-but-firm, polite.  I'm still not saying the Guy did anything wrong. 

Doesn't matter; E.S. would see it as criticism and suddenly get all anxious and defensive.  He was already excited about going to the movie, and whether the excitement is good or bad, they both pile up inside him until he blows his stack. 

The rigidity of Asperger's:  The harder you push Eldest Son, the harder he digs in his heels.  But, faced with an apparently defiant child, an adult's instinct is to push harder, to insist even more firmly that the kid toe the line.  But, the harder you push E.S., the harder he digs in his heels.  And the harder you want to push him to obey.  And the harder he digs in his heels.  And...

So when the Guy asked him AGAIN to stop kicking, E.S. dug in his heels harder.  And then when D.H. said to him sternly about how he had to move, or leave, he dug in his heels even harder still. 

And, because he hadn't MEANT to do any of it and he was now getting worried and anxious about having to leave the movie which he didn't want to miss... BOOM!  He couldn't contain his internal pressure, and started howling.  Which, of course, led exactly TO the thing he was most afraid of, being taken out and having to miss the rest of it.

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The problem with E.S. is, at the moment when his behavior is the most annoying to those around him, that's when he most needs them to be patient and keep their cool with him.  When adults get angry at him, that makes it harder for him to get back on track. 

Other kids, you use "The Voice" or give "The Look" that says, "You're treading on thin ice, buster, and you'd better shape up" -- maybe it works.  They back down.  They bow to the adult's authority and want to avoid making an adult angry with them.  They do shape up. 

With E.S., it backfires.  Believe me.  It's the Negative Spiral of Doom, and I've experienced it myself countless times.  Even though I KNOW this, sometimes I still can't help getting sucked in. 

Signs of adult anger make him anxious. When he gets more anxious, he gets more rigid and obsessive and perseverative.  When he gets rigid and obsessive and perseverative, he CAN'T let go of whatever it is.  He really, truly CAN'T.  No matter how irrational it may be.  ("I can't SEE as well from there!" -- 3 seats to the left)  You've got to break him out of that negative loop, and you can't do that with an angry voice, because an angry voice just adds to his anxiety, and that just makes him more rigid and obsessive and perseverative, and even LESS able to let go of it, and...

The Negative Spiral of Doom.

The harder you push, the harder he digs in his heels. 

What it's kind of like is, well, it's kind of like Windows crashing. 

"A Fatal Error Has Been Detected." 

Only thing left is to reboot.

With E.S., rebooting requires being removed from the situation. 

So, D.H. stepped up and did it. 

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Last night as he was getting ready for bed, E.S. asked me to tell him what happened in the rest of the movie (which made me want to cry again). 

So I think one of us is going to take him back to try again.  Probably D.H., since he missed it too.  Just the two of them.  When Eldest Son is one on one with an adult, he's much more easy to manage.  Plus, we'll keep in mind our 4 lessons learned (above). 

Tomorrow we have a big meeting at his school to go over his IEP (Individual Education Plan).  This will be a help going into next year.  Although, this year's teacher has really been pretty awesome.  But we want be sure we capture whatever her magic pixie dust is, and hand it off to next year's teacher.  In a bottle with a nice little bow on it. 

Phew.

Okay.  'Nuff about this.  Let's move on. 

I just submitted two different short pieces to two different publications.

I'm feeling a little insecure at the moment.

I'm craving feedback on some other pieces but I think I've tapped out my inner circle of early readers for the moment -- after all, they all have lives too.  Kids, jobs, snow to shovel, ponies (more shoveling), their own writing, you name it -- they have lives.  They've given much to me lately, for which I am grateful -- let's make that perfectly clear.

I'm fearing that because they don't sit by their computers just begging for an email with another one of my stories attached, and drop everything and read it RIGHT THAT MINUTE and turn around and send me useful crit within twenty-four hours (*making fun of self here, let's just be clear*)... that that must mean my stories are actually crap and there's no hope for getting better and I should just give up now and keep my day job.  Oh wait, I don't HAVE a day job; or rather, I never gave up my unpaid all-day-and-all-night job.  Or maybe I should just go out and GET another day job.

Blah.

Feeling Needy.

Ohhhh, just wait until I get the rejections back, if you want to see needy!

Blah.

Just last week I had a very challenging morning with Eldest Son, and had a bad-vibe-hangover the whole rest of the day, which wasn't fair to the other little urchins, whose fault it wasn't.  I normally read to soothe myself but they weren't letting me get away with it that morning.  Eventually one went down for a nap and the other was watching a video (value-added mommery, here!) and I curled up in the sunbeam in the front room and started gulping down my favorite genre from my latest issue of Asimov's magazine.

But instead of feeling better, I saw an ad for a 5-week writer's workshop to be held in June in New Hampshire, and I was just consumed, absolutely consumed with envy and despair. 

I know that what I really need is a short intense period of focusing ONLY on my writing (instead of 1 and 2 hours at a time), WITH (and this is key) focused, frequent feedback.  Which is EXACTLY what those writing workshop participants will be getting.  EXACTLY.

And that is so not even remotely possible for me to even consider at this point or for the foreseeable future, that I was just gnashing my teeth and pulling at my hair in despair. 

Go live in New Hampshire for 5 weeks this summer??  -- Yeah, RIGHT.

Pay actual money for room and board and tuition for my writing??  -- Yeah, RIGHT.

Go from a non-wage-earner to an actual expense-incurrer, while expecting my working husband to manage single-daddery for 5 weeks?  And who exactly would be watching the little urchins while he was working -- during the summer, when Eldest Son will be out of school, doubling the challenge??? 

And how could I leave the urchins for 5 weeks, when after I've snatched a break for myself of 3 hours out of the house, my tiniest tot greets my return with such delight and a shout of, "Mommy!  You came back!"  How d'you think he would do if I suddenly disappeared for 5 weeks?  And how about the other two?  When I went to the con last fall and was essentially unavailable for mommy-love for most of Friday evening, Saturday, and Sunday, I paid for it with a week of grumpiness from the older two.  They're more subtle now -- they don't try to keep me from leaving like Littlest Brother does, and they cannot specify the source of their grumpiness later -- but it's there.  They still need me, though they're less likely to admit it.   

I thought I could do both.  Why can't I do both?  Be there for them, AND recreate myself?

Blah.

Blah, blah, blah.

Especially blah-ful is my knowledge that up until last year there was a speculative-fiction writer's workshop within commuting distance of my home and held on weekends, that had been running for THIRTY YEARS. 

THAT, I could have managed.  I know Dear Husband would have backed me on that one.  The urchins would have gotten used to it, and I would have just taken a deep breath and accepted the pay-back grumpiness. 

But just last year it closed up shop in this area and moved out to San Diego.

Quadruple BLAH.

Feeling all hollow inside. 

Or maybe not hollow so much as filled up with bad stuff.  Neediness, insecurity, fear, jealousy, despair. 

I'm like a cannoli filled with rotten cream. 

Well, maybe it's just February in Michigan. 

That and all this other stuff too.