Sometimes I think that the past year plus a few months, since a separated from my exhusband, have been a long period of letting the dust settle. I picture it more like mud settling in water, slowly allowing the water to become transparent. "Slowly" is the part I hate. All my life I have been able to grasp concepts quickly, and anything I have to absorb or process slowly makes me crazy (crazier?).
I have used the time to ... well, in large part just recover. It took time to stop thinking a thousand thoughts a minute, trying to make sense of insanity, trying to keep up with everyone's needs. It took time to realize that the only person whose thoughts and judgements need to concern me are my own. In short, it took time to catch my breath and be able to think again.
For a long time, I have known that I want to work on this house, to get it organized and begin to work on painting and other projects. It is hard to imagine that it has taken so long to be able to step back and see what needs to be done and how much of it I can do. It was therapeutic to start working in the old, incredibly dingy bathroom. The day I told my ex that I was filing for divorce, my sister came over to help me start pulling down the weird half-wall covering under the wallpaper. It was a long project, but when I was most unable to think, it was a tangible process assuring me that things really were changing.
Months later, I purchased with new bedding for my room. That was important. A friend has helped me start cleaning. Next will be paint: a job that was looming over me, inconceivable. It seemed there was a sudden break, that I could pick up paint booklets and start to look at color samples on the walls.
The frustrating thing has been accepting that nothing I could do or can do would speed the process. Stamping my foot, trying to be ahead of where I am, tackling projects that I wasn't yet able to see clearly - all just muddied the waters over again. I have gone through small jobs in spurts, like really cleaning out my room then not doing anything for weeks or months (anything apart from daily survival - work, feeding and clothing the kids, getting them to school, still participating in an abuse survivors group, etc.).
Wisdom has been learning to know when to just let it be, and not telling myself or believing anyone else who seemed to think I should be doing more. No one else has had to be me and do the things I need to do. The waters are so clear now, finally calm. I can envision the next things to do in the house and make a plan. I am getting both kids the different supports they need, and myself, too. I have recognized that what I really want to do at this point is not go to graduate school for writing (though maybe at some time in the future), it is to train to do life coaching. I am not certain how I can get that plan funded but at the moment, I am content with the clarity of my vision. Once I can see it, I know that sooner or later I can make it happen.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
What Do I Know?
Most of the writing that I have been doing lately has been on Twitter. It is amazing how much you can find yourself saying, in chunks of 140 characters (or less), especially when you are supposed to be processing invoices for employee benefits. Oops.
Someone had reTweeted information about The Coffee Klatch, a morning chat among moms of kids with special needs. Each day there is a specific topic, most often with a guest expert. Recent topics have included managing playdates for kids with special needs, nutrition for our kids and for ourselves, and relaxation techniques. I started hanging around for the chat, picking up some great experience from amazing women. There have been several topics that relate to raising kids with an Autism Spectrum Disorder, such as my son’s Asperger’s Syndrome, and I have found myself speaking up in the group.
Still, I usually expect to lurk. It surprises me when I have something to contribute. For example, when Lori Lite was recently the guest, the discussion focused on calming strategies for our kids. Many kids, not just with ASD, have issues with getting to sleep or staying asleep, or both. I mentioned that one thing that helps my Peanut is the use of a weighted blanket, and I was asked to explain a little about that. Kids on the spectrum often have some form of Sensory Processing Disorder, or SPD (which still makes me think of Power Rangers, though my kids have been past Power Rangers for a few years).
My son is one who craves very high amounts of sensory input. When he is especially sensory-seeking, he tends to fidget so that he bumps into people or thumps his chair around, sometimes deliberately crashing into the floor – not to hurt himself but for the constant input from objects around him. At bedtime, he likes to curl up against my side but also likes the sensation of being covered with some weight. If you are one of those people who must have some sort of cover on you to sleep, no matter how warm the weather, imagine taking that need up several notches.
In the discussion, I summarized weighted gear as therapy for kids with sensory differences, and listed the website where I found good products at reasonable prices (http://saltoftheearthweightedgear.com/). And people found it helpful. Which is amazing. Amazing because this is what I want to do. Share what I have learned through writing about my experience, not as a pedantic expert but as a fellow traveler. I just didn’t think I knew enough about anything. So it is at once humbling and exalting to realize that there are things that I can write about, somewhat knowledgeably. I may know more than I had thought.
In writing what I know, I keep wanting to right more about the journey I've taken through an abusive marriage. To do that, I am in the process of setting up a new, more anonymous blog at Wordpress (so it doesn't link to the profile on this site). When it is ready, I will find a way to let you know where to find it. Thanks for reading.
Pertinent Links:
Lori Lite, creator of Stress Free Kids. @StressFreeKids on Twitter. Also http://www.youtube.com/StressFreeKids.
@TheCoffeeKlatch on Twitter. There is also a Facebook page, which includes useful links related to the topics of discussion.
http://www.sensorysmarts.com/ Website based on one of my favorite books on the subject, Raising a Sensory Smart Child by Lindsay Biel and Nancy Peske. The foreword to the most recent edition is written by Dr. Temple Grandin.
http://www.sensoryprocessingdisorder.com/ SPD was previously referred to as Sensory Integration Disorder.
Special Mom Talk: http://www.specialmomtalk.com/ and@specialmomtalk on Twitter
Someone had reTweeted information about The Coffee Klatch, a morning chat among moms of kids with special needs. Each day there is a specific topic, most often with a guest expert. Recent topics have included managing playdates for kids with special needs, nutrition for our kids and for ourselves, and relaxation techniques. I started hanging around for the chat, picking up some great experience from amazing women. There have been several topics that relate to raising kids with an Autism Spectrum Disorder, such as my son’s Asperger’s Syndrome, and I have found myself speaking up in the group.
Still, I usually expect to lurk. It surprises me when I have something to contribute. For example, when Lori Lite was recently the guest, the discussion focused on calming strategies for our kids. Many kids, not just with ASD, have issues with getting to sleep or staying asleep, or both. I mentioned that one thing that helps my Peanut is the use of a weighted blanket, and I was asked to explain a little about that. Kids on the spectrum often have some form of Sensory Processing Disorder, or SPD (which still makes me think of Power Rangers, though my kids have been past Power Rangers for a few years).
My son is one who craves very high amounts of sensory input. When he is especially sensory-seeking, he tends to fidget so that he bumps into people or thumps his chair around, sometimes deliberately crashing into the floor – not to hurt himself but for the constant input from objects around him. At bedtime, he likes to curl up against my side but also likes the sensation of being covered with some weight. If you are one of those people who must have some sort of cover on you to sleep, no matter how warm the weather, imagine taking that need up several notches.
In the discussion, I summarized weighted gear as therapy for kids with sensory differences, and listed the website where I found good products at reasonable prices (http://saltoftheearthweightedgear.com/). And people found it helpful. Which is amazing. Amazing because this is what I want to do. Share what I have learned through writing about my experience, not as a pedantic expert but as a fellow traveler. I just didn’t think I knew enough about anything. So it is at once humbling and exalting to realize that there are things that I can write about, somewhat knowledgeably. I may know more than I had thought.
In writing what I know, I keep wanting to right more about the journey I've taken through an abusive marriage. To do that, I am in the process of setting up a new, more anonymous blog at Wordpress (so it doesn't link to the profile on this site). When it is ready, I will find a way to let you know where to find it. Thanks for reading.
Pertinent Links:
Lori Lite, creator of Stress Free Kids. @StressFreeKids on Twitter. Also http://www.youtube.com/StressFreeKids.
@TheCoffeeKlatch on Twitter. There is also a Facebook page, which includes useful links related to the topics of discussion.
http://www.sensorysmarts.com/ Website based on one of my favorite books on the subject, Raising a Sensory Smart Child by Lindsay Biel and Nancy Peske. The foreword to the most recent edition is written by Dr. Temple Grandin.
http://www.sensoryprocessingdisorder.com/ SPD was previously referred to as Sensory Integration Disorder.
Special Mom Talk: http://www.specialmomtalk.com/ and@specialmomtalk on Twitter
Friday, February 12, 2010
Station - a poem. Finally.
Station
I.
Pitted blue glass windows
line the church aisles.
Centered in each window
a square panel depicts
one Station of the Cross:
gilt figures on black slate.
Sundays after Mass, her
Grandmother walked through
the Stations, rosary
looped over her hands,
the skin silk-smooth, loose
on the bones. The kids
would all wait in the car,
impatient for the ritual’s end.
One station: Jesus carries His Cross.
Another, He falls the first time.
He meets His mother. A murmur
accompanied the beads’ clicking.
II.
On Fridays in Lent the upper
grades attended observance
of the Stations together.
The censer would swing gently
on its chain. Wisps of incense rose
with the priest’s thin voice:
eloi, eloi, lama sabachtani
Someone might faint
or pretend to in
the close hungry afternoon.
The priest and the altar boy attendants
moved on to the next one: Jesus dies.
He is laid in the tomb.
Between panels, the light streams in.
III.
She tries again to repent
wonders whether peace
would come if she made
confession, if she knelt down on
marble at the communion rail
or shed penitent’s tears.
She waits in the shadow of
the great crucifix above her.
She would pray: Jesus
how You suffered,
make me good.
With thorns or a whip
or with nails
make me forget
this longing.
I.
Pitted blue glass windows
line the church aisles.
Centered in each window
a square panel depicts
one Station of the Cross:
gilt figures on black slate.
Sundays after Mass, her
Grandmother walked through
the Stations, rosary
looped over her hands,
the skin silk-smooth, loose
on the bones. The kids
would all wait in the car,
impatient for the ritual’s end.
One station: Jesus carries His Cross.
Another, He falls the first time.
He meets His mother. A murmur
accompanied the beads’ clicking.
II.
On Fridays in Lent the upper
grades attended observance
of the Stations together.
The censer would swing gently
on its chain. Wisps of incense rose
with the priest’s thin voice:
eloi, eloi, lama sabachtani
Someone might faint
or pretend to in
the close hungry afternoon.
The priest and the altar boy attendants
moved on to the next one: Jesus dies.
He is laid in the tomb.
Between panels, the light streams in.
III.
She tries again to repent
wonders whether peace
would come if she made
confession, if she knelt down on
marble at the communion rail
or shed penitent’s tears.
She waits in the shadow of
the great crucifix above her.
She would pray: Jesus
how You suffered,
make me good.
With thorns or a whip
or with nails
make me forget
this longing.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Balancing
It is so ingrained in me that gratitude is the solution to feeling crappy that in response to my really depressing post about depression, I have to think of things for which I am grateful.
1) I work with some really cool women, including my boss who will cut me a little slack when I am struggling.
2) The Bloggess, who makes me laugh.
3) Her commenters, who keep the laugh going.
4) My kids who are smart, funny, loving and generally awesome.
5) Shoveling snow with the sun shining. It’s weird but I like it.
6) A couple of good friends who are real and who let me be real, and who even love me for this.
7) Mystery novels like Beverly Connor’s Dressed to Die (Lindsay Chamberlain series): I can’t get interested in stories like usual, but the detection process occupies my attention and gives me a reprieve from feeling crappy.
8) I have writing as an outlet.
9) I remind myself of this when nothing else is going right: I AM divorced. I did make that happen. I dealt with unhealthy dynamics and changed my life.
10) Things really aren’t as bad as they seem to me right now.
1) I work with some really cool women, including my boss who will cut me a little slack when I am struggling.
2) The Bloggess, who makes me laugh.
3) Her commenters, who keep the laugh going.
4) My kids who are smart, funny, loving and generally awesome.
5) Shoveling snow with the sun shining. It’s weird but I like it.
6) A couple of good friends who are real and who let me be real, and who even love me for this.
7) Mystery novels like Beverly Connor’s Dressed to Die (Lindsay Chamberlain series): I can’t get interested in stories like usual, but the detection process occupies my attention and gives me a reprieve from feeling crappy.
8) I have writing as an outlet.
9) I remind myself of this when nothing else is going right: I AM divorced. I did make that happen. I dealt with unhealthy dynamics and changed my life.
10) Things really aren’t as bad as they seem to me right now.
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