Life: Part Two

Hollywood loves a sequel. 

Grease, National Lampoon's Vacation, Father of the Bride, Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, Lethal Weapon, Shrek, Three Men and a Baby, Thor, Star Wars, and many many more movies all have sequels. Sometimes even part 3's and more. I won't be shocked if there is a Toy Story 68 by the time my kids are grown.

We just watched Top Gun Maverick, and it was a downright magical experience. Maybe it was because I haven't been to the movie in years (thanks C word). Maybe it's because it was my first experience in a 2DX theater. 

ScreenX is a multi-projection theater which surrounds the audience in 270 degrees of visual media for an immersive movie viewing experience. It was explosive, the kind where you feel it in your chest while getting tears in your eyes. The boys loved it.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about where I am in life now. What about the middle aged? Do I get a part two? Part one was all planned out for me by the world before I was even born. Elementary School, High School, College for some, "real world" or Trade School. I got my Bachelors Degree in Communications Manangement at Southwest Missouri State- now Missouri State University. Isn't that the most made up sounding area of expertise ever? I can assure you, I can empty the dishwasher and fold laundry so much better because of it. 

Life Plan: Have an ambitious career! Get married! Buy a house! Get a dog!  Have kids. Congratulations! You are the starring role of your one life! Bravo! 

I didn’t realize how powerful of collateral youth was, until mine was spent. Don’t get me wrong- I spent it wisely- simply by living. Being passionate about school and career. Moving from Missouri to California. Kissing a lot of frogs. Living on my own. Trying new things. Screwing up and trying again. 

In the prime of my youth, I didn’t think- Oh I’m 28, I’m lucky and healthy and my knees aren't shot so I can run! I thought- I’m 28 and not married. I still have ikea furniture. Aren’t I supposed to be established by now? Why can't time fast forward?

I don’t think we can truly Master a level until we can examine it in retrospect from the next one. I wish we could watch it like This is Your Life- For the youngens, this was a TV show in the 1950's that surprised guests and then took them through a retrospective of their lives in front of an audience, including appearances by colleagues, friends, and family.

What if we got to experience our previous decade that way? I think we would have so much more empathy and awe for ourselves. Oh yes, that was smart, Chrissy. Boy did you screw up there- but you knew it and your learned from it. And that comeback sure was incredible- so resourceful! 

Actually- we don't spend a whole lot of time looking back at the remarkable things we did or went through. We don't honor the struggles and celebrate the triumps. I would say that's because life is just moving too fast. But boy do we spend a ton of time focusing on what went wrong. I wonder why that is?

In an effort to look younger, I got some Botox and filler in my lips over the Winter. I've done it a handful of times before, usually after looking at myself in a picture thinking- when the heck did that happen? A few days after the injection, I woke up with the right side of my face burning and itching like crazy. I had Shingles (thank goodness just the nerve pain, not the rash). 

Shingles! SHINGLES. WTF, an old people disease that I got from trying to look less old. This was my second time getting Shingles, and I realized the first time was after Botox too. So I guess that's out of the question, apparently I'm supposed to grow old a little more "gracefully". Hmmmpf. 

I think we should grow old however the hell we want. You want crazy plastic surgery and every injection known to man? Why not. It's your face, and just because it isn't for me doesn't mean it's not for anyone. 

I'm still figuring out how to grow old,  I get it. 

So here I sit, with my crows feet that honest to goodness go from my eyes to my mouth. Big bird feet I call 'em, examining my Part Two and trying to figure out what it will hold. I still get to be the star of it. Mine will be a little different from most others, I don't see my children leaving the nest and bringing home Grandchildren to visit. I'm learning that whatever it looks like, it will be ok. Most amazing movies don't follow the same old path everyone takes anyway. That would be an awfully boring movie. Amazing stories are always the ones that look completely different from Status Quo. 

I know Part Two is less about ambition and attaining. It will be more about: appreciating your present, creating things, engaging in things that feed my soul, surrounding myself with likeminded people, connecting to things that don’t plug in, stretching to the point of uncomfortable when I am in the headspace to do so, reading, learning, leaving everywhere better than I found it, saying get instead of have (I get to take the boys to therapy. I get to go to the doctor.) and going easy on the girl in the mirror- she’s amazing. So are you.

Keep that in mind if you feel like you've fallen off a traditional path. Your Part Two is waiting.

So much Love,

Chrissy 

If this post had a theme song it would be THIS: 

Night Changes by One Direction:

We're only gettin' older, baby

And I've been thinkin' about it lately

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

Everything that you've ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

But there's nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you

PS- I made the font bigger on this post in case your eyes are going to shit like mine. You are welcome.)

the search for silver linings

I can see his head," she announced. "Your baby has blond hair". 

He was real, and her words made it so. I think her name was Donna... the woman staring intently at my vagina. She wasn't a complete stranger, we met briefly earlier in the day when she did rounds as the 'On Call' Physician for the OBGYN Womans Practice in which I was a patient.

I arrived at the hospital around 7am, 12 hours prior, and now I was finally in the final stages of labor. Jessica the Labor and Delivery Nurse was counting the ten second push duration with each of my contractions.

My hospital grippy socked feet were planted on the foot holsters and numb, due to an overzealous epidural that at first didn’t take. One foot would occasionally flop haphazardly off, while I would grin sheepishly, nudging Michael. Hey, my foot fell off again. Can you fix it? It was the weekend, the sky cradled its full moon. It all was unreal...a dream. I somehow still quite couldn't believe there was an actual baby inside of me. No one talked about that part. The bizarreness of it all. Or maybe just no one else found it bizarre. I found it straight out of a sci fi or zombie apocalypse movie. A human growing another small human. ( I was growing a penis. How is that even possible?! ) And oh yes, when the small human is done growing, it flies out of your vagina. 

I feel this way often in new stages of life. Like I am some alien life form confused trying to process it all. It seems like everyone else can at least pretend like they know what the hell they are doing. I can't even pretend. I need extra processing time.

I look back on old blog posts, written as I processed many moments in autism land. Everything was different compared to my view of others. Aching sadness usually turned into silver linings. It felt normal. I don't need our life to be normal- but I do need it to feel like our normal. 

Now the boys are older and I feel the familiar pang of transition. Greyson is 13, and Parker is 11, and their opportunities to interact with typically developing kids their own age are scarce. Over the past few years our Universe has shrank. Relationships have changed, as they often do. The more isolated we are, the more I forget how different we are in direct comparison. 

Sometimes life feels like a party that we are just not invited to. 

It’s easy to throw a bunch of 5 year olds into the mix, playing at the playground, balancing their tricky emotions- mainly tired or hungry, eating snacks and blowing bubbles.We went to a July 4th party at my dear friends house and I was deep in my head when a little after we arrived.

When I saw the Grand Canyon divide, it took my breath away. I watched Greyson and Parker sit alone by the pool minutes after we arrived. (Should I go out there and help them interact? Do they want that? Do I want to do that? What should I do?) My suddenly one track mind wanted desperately to just sit and process these feelings, and I had to remind myself- live in this moment with your friends. You don't need to be therapist- just be Mom. 

It's an honor watching my friends kids grow up. The boys are getting deeper voices and bigger man-like bodies. The girls seem to have skipped the insanely awkward stage that I excelled in at their age. 

These kids move together like the tide. They go to school together and hang out together. I sit on the sidelines and watch, unable to contribute to conversations about baseball and high school and that life that sounds like a foreign language. Those kids graduated from Yo Gabba Gabba over a decade ago. This is development, I realize, and although my boys are developing constantly too, it looks completely different. Their future isn't as solidly defined. 

I sort through these feelings… is this sadness or just the need for feelings that need acknowledgment? Do you want this for them or for you? Do you want this at all? What is this ache? I don’t envy the big talks and fears other parents must have- drugs, and social media and sex, and high school… but it can feel so lonely being 'other' looking in.

Greyson and Parker don’t know how, or maybe even want to be like those other kids, but I know they want to flow with their own tide of friends who do what they do, who love what they love, who see the world as they do. I think we all long to be seen. To be truly seen. I wish desperately I could buy it for them, no price tag would deter me, I’d find a way. 

So many of us experience our own ache of other. We just don't talk about it alot. I don't know why- maybe we don't want to interrupt Status Quo or make the Majority think we are criticizing or resenting them. Single people in a room of marrieds, kidless someone in a room full of parents, someone dealing with an illness or disability, a tough family, a life problem or situation… people who are on the less traveled road. We all have our quiet moments of processing the loss of something it seems like everyone else has. The answers often come with time and aren’t necessarily ones we would choose for ourselves or our people. There is where our ability to be great comes into play- 

Will I accept the answers I can’t change? 

Will I examine these feelings without judgement or guilt so I can process and move on? 

Will I search for silver linings? 

As I look at these pictures I remember, yes- this is exactly right- the life we are living. I sit and take deep breaths and finally can regard my big feelings without judgement. Acceptance in, bad feelings out. Whoosh. Yes, yes, yes, to all of it. I will search for the silver linings. I can’t imagine it any other way. But sometimes it takes me a minute to get there. 

Clarity

We had just arrived after a six hour road trip from Central California to Redondo Beach in Los Angeles. Set timer on phone go home, Greyson requested. I have to work to separate his fear from my own, sometimes I feel it so big. I try to do the math backwards- ummmm- I think that will be a 16 hour timer? 

Elenor Roosevelt said, “You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.”  Fear is required- a characteristic that keeps us safe and alive, warning us to potential harm. However my anxiety is able to paint even the most innocuous in a bright color of fear. 

THAT'S A BAD IDEA!

THAT ISN'T SAFE

YOU CAN'T DO THAT.

YOU WILL LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT

Sometimes inner me is the wettest blanket.

My first instinct regarding the unknown, the never done before, the new to me things- is fear. I like to honor the fear and then shove it into a box out of my view. Yes, it’s there, but let’s not focus on it- k? I realized recently how quickly you can accumulate boxes. 

When it comes to humaning, I like to take inventory, and examine limitations that hold me back from the life I know the real me can and should be living. I often hold anxiety with shame- like I SHOULDNT be so weak, or chicken shit, or negative, or let it affect my life so so dearly. I can make a trip to the grocery store stressful (should I go now or Tuesday? Before or after I drop off the boys? Can I wait until Thursday? What if we run out of turkey?) My monkey mind spins constantly, its hard to shut it off to relax.

For the first time, probably since Grey was 2 years old, the boys are free from therapy on Fridays. I knew I wanted to take advantage of that time off, and I thought about visiting my friend Wendy. She moved into her house three years ago, and I still hadn't seen it. Cue the insessant thinking... (Take the boys away for a night, don't let your fear limit them! What if she's busy? I don't want to ask her if I can stay at her house if it's going to inconvenience her. What if we get into a car accident? We can't drive 10+ hours in a little over a day. Can I keep track of both boys?! Grey will hate not being at home.) 

My new thing is, instead of letting that inner voice decide things for me- I instead ask- What would I tell my friend in the same situation to do? I give much better advice to friends than I do to myself. So, from that headspace I texted Wendy. And the next thing you know, we were on our way.

We listened to John Mayer on the way... The song Clarity felt like our road trip anthem...

I worry, I weigh three times my body

I worry, I throw my fear around

But this morning

There's a calm I can't explain

The rock candy's melted

Only diamonds now remain

Parker wrote us a schedule for in the car while I was pumping gas.

The older we get, the less willing we are to be uncomfortable. I watched my boys in the freezing ocean until 9pm at night. How can they stand it? Wendy and I discussed while we curled into ourselves, teeth chattering. 

Parker’s blue lips reminded me - they FEEL the cold, but the joy of the adventure is greater than the fear or pain it might also bring. At what age does that scale flip? No- I’m too cold. It’s too late. It’s too expensive. It’s too dangerous. I’m too tired. No one will come. I'll look like a fool. What if I fail?

This was the most perfect Therapy Free Friday ever

Love you Wendy! I love your house and I am so proud of you! 

By the time I recognize this moment

This moment will be gone

But I will bend the light pretending

That it somehow lingered on

I bring a load of stuff to my car as we get ready to make the return trip home. As I walk back inside, I hear my phone buzzing like an alarm was going off. I realized it was our Go Home Timer, set in what felt like a million hours before. Something about us all was different now. We had the special confidence that only facing your fears can bring. And if we can do it- so can you.

So Much Love,

Chrissy