No flowery words. I'm just diving in. Yesterday sucked.
No carpe dieming, no sucking the marrow out of life. Just sucked. There were some good moments....but the overall genre at the end of the day was Suckness Suckeroni. The day sucked and I sucked as a person too. We all have bad days that we just need to wake up on the other side of. I wrote about my day last night, but I tried to make my thoughts sound prettier than they felt because I didn't want to sound pathetic and I don't like to wade around in muddy waters. Who the hell cares? I've earned a little pathetic here and there.
I put Greyson to bed last night and I started to cry...I thought...this is all too hard. And at the time it felt like it was too hard permanently- not just too hard last night. I hate when I forget that. Feelings are like the tide...changing constantly...predictable at times and other times volatile. I just felt so sad and so alone...lonely in my own head. I need people...I need to talk and interact with adults other than the ABA teachers during the day. Greyson and I really don't have too many conversations. (that's a joke. I'm allowed to make those kinds of jokes.) There was just too much quiet. Michael called to tell me goodnight and I couldn't keep it in...sucking in breaths between tears. He made the "mistake" of telling me, "You are doing a great job...I know it's hard." I told him, "Those are just WORDS. Words are doing NOTHING for me right now. And NO- You don't know it's hard because the longest you've been with both kids at once is 3 hours!!!"
Men- I'll let you in on a little secret...No matter the topic- when a woman is in that place- you know- when they are so angry they spit when they talk, and that vein in their forehead pulses? There is a pretty great chance that there is very little you can say to make it better...and there are a ton of things you can say to make it worse...not very good statistics... Well, I take that back... Maybe you could ask, "What can I do to make it better?"...Oh wait....No...that doesn't work either- he's tried that before and I think I responded with something along the lines of, "Why do I have to figure EVERYTHING out? Why can't you figure out how to make ME feel better all on your OWN!??" Yes, best to not say anything at all. Just buy them shoes...Yes, that's it, new shoes. (And sugar-Thank you to my sweet neighbors Dusty, Gage and Grace who read my post and must have felt sorry for me because they brought us delicious cookies!)
I love Thursdays...sometimes the anticipation of the weekend is even better than the real thing. I know what day of the week it is from the presence of this truck in my neighborhood.
Every Thursday for the past 19 months since we moved here it's been around ... I look for it now...and every single time I see it- it makes me smile. It belongs to a guy who cuts lawns. I'm pretty sure it's the same color blue as my soul-- because right after I see it, I can't stop thinking of that color. Today we drove by on the way home from preschool and my car pulled itself over right next to the truck... it was parked in front of a house and the truck owner was in the front yard tending to the lawn. I asked him, "Would you mind if I took my son's picture by your truck? He really loves trucks."
I figured that would be better than saying I think your truck is the color of my soul...seriously- who thinks like that? I am one part sarcastic pain in the ass, one part total sap.
The truck was parked in the bright and direct sun. If you do photography you know that is the worst lighting to photograph in. I was so tempted to ask the guy- "Would you mind it if I drove your truck to a shady spot?! Oh well, I still got some I like.
I freaking LOVE my Spectrum Kid. When I give Greyson directions I have to be very specific. I can't say something like, "Greyson- go over by the truck." He wouldn't understand- so I have to use a skill he has learned in therapy. I told him, "Greyson, go touch truck." He knows what "point" and "touch" means.
Until I physically pulled his hand away, he made sure he was"touching" the truck continuously.
Michael said it looks like he is giving me the finger here. I'm pretty sure he hasn't learned that in therapy though, so I don't think Michael is right.
Today at preschool they released their butterflies they have had since they were itty bitty eggs.
It all made me think of the first post I wrote after writing about Greyson's Autism diagnosis.
I wrote the words, "And friends, we turned into a Butterfly....Greyson, Parker, Michael and Me. It hurt a little...but it was so Beautiful."
Although there are days that I do, last night I most certainly did not feel like a butterfly. And it got me thinking how often I like to figure things out and box them up...and then if I have a rough moment or day, I think I've ruined it all and regressed. Life isn't like that. Unlike the life span of a Butterfly, we move back and forth through stages...continuously changing and growing.. and moving back into a stage doesn't necessarily mean regression...it could just mean we have more to learn.
And this evening I was reading about butterflies and it says their average life span is 2-6 weeks.... that sure isn't very long. But it turns out, many species can remain dormant in their pupal (caterpillar) or egg stages to survive long winters.... Hmmm... so I guess a butterfly is beautiful, but not made to withstand tough times.... That certainly doesn't sound like me. Maybe we are not a butterfly after all... because we are strong. Maybe on some days we are a butterfly, and maybe some days we are a caterpillar... and you know, I think I'm OK with that.
Happy Friday...And to my Beautiful, amazing and awesome Mother friends. I learn so much from every one of you. You inspire me to write more, to photograph more, and to always have the courage to be myself. Happy Mother's Day.