I’ve got a whirlwind of life events that has been hovering over a sea of pregnancy hormones that has evolved into Hurricane Heather.

Job….

So the drama. So the Boss and I managed a coup and now report to a different Assistant City Manager than we used to. This is good. The process leading up to it? Not so much. It really has led me to wonder how in the hades some people EVER end up in leadership when they are so grossly unqualified.

Also – my request for a job share is going thru, effective January. So I’ll be able to slow down a bit and nest at home before this babe gets here. Wheee!

School…

Holy swearwords Batman! I got behind on my school work thanks to the overwhelm of 1st trimester exhaustion and nausea and, well, it ain’t purty. If ever I could have picked a class to get behind in – this was NOT IT. My classmates were e-mailing fast and furiously today about the crapass teacher we have and how for over a thousand bucks, none of us have learned a damned thing thus far. What a bargain, eh?

Home…

Kids are great – minus the subsequent sensory glitch I’ll describe later – Charlie Brown is great. I’m SO TIRED and my house is a WRECK as a result. Again, I wonder if I’ll ever get caught up? But overall – good.

LMNOB/Sensory issues….

Well….this one is a pickle. Brillig wrote a post the other day that spoke to me, really hit me squarely in the eyeballs about the feelings I’m having with LMNOB’s progress of late.

It’s great – she is making progress, and good progress – like leaps, bounds even – but I stand waiting for the other shoe to drop at any given moment. Yet, life begins to feel normal again, if ever it were such a thing, and that bitch False Hope comes at me. Brillig brought me to tears with this:

The problem with everyone calling him “normal” is that I start to believe it. I know this about myself. I know that I shouldn’t allow myself to believe it. I brace myself against it, but I find myself slipping into that world of hope. Maybe he really is doing better, I think to myself. Maybe he’s starting to be normal.

Number three is so, so awful. Because he ISN’T normal.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been through this. I get slammed with the truth and I have to go through the whole grieving process again. It’s a cycle I’m all too familiar with: learning the truth, hurting over the truth, coming to terms with the truth and being okay with it, going into denial about the truth and then CRASH, I learn the truth again.

So, I read that post bobbing my head emphatically, saying, “That’s it – exactly it,” because that’s how I was feeling two weeks ago when school had started without any hiccups and life was seemingly normal with LMNOB. And then two weeks ago tomorrow, we crashed. We’d been to OT and I’d had to rush to Wal-Mart (:ducking head: I know, I hate it too – but it was a matter of convenience) to grab some supplies for my Wednesday night class I’m teaching at church and some potatoes to mash with the roast that had been in the crockpot.

The kids begged me for a little something and they HAD been really good, so I told them they could pick a $5 toy but they had to be snappy about it. LMNOB was indecisive. I gave her a few minutes’ warning, a one minute warning, and finally told her she would have to use her $5 another time. And all hell broke loose.

She threw herself on the floor, grabbed the cart, thinking I wouldn’t be able to budge her. Rather than getting involved myself, I’ve learned to just keep on trucking. In this case that meant pushing the cart, albeit dragging her 50+ lbs, howling, flailing body along the floor with it. I headed straight to the checkout. But it was slow progress, probably 15 minutes, pulling the extra resistance with the cart. By the time we got to the checkout everybody was staring, and not that imagined, “Everybody is staring,” that a mom feels when a two-year-old acts out – no this was people actually pointing, shaking their heads and just ogling us in disbelief that I would even allow a child of 7 yrs act out like this. I couldn’t pick her up – I’m pregnant, had kitten heels on, and had Punkinhead to keep track of as well. She eventually stood up, and I abandoned my cart as she shrieked while we exited the store, struggling all the way through the parking lot and made it to the car. I’d like to say it ended there, but it didn’t. It got worse at home and by 9:00 that night I was dribbling my lip with my finger like a looney tune.

We’re not normal in this regard. Sometimes her tantrums are the only visible manifestation of her issues – and it leads me to wonder is it JUST bad parenting, as others are prone to asking. But then I remember her putting rocks in her pockets, standing at a closed door for 30+ minutes without knocking on it, and other incidents that are symptomatic of her neuro-atypical issues. She is not normal, but yet, she’s made so much progress that it’s hard to believe at times that she’s not normal. An interesting dilemma.

Punkinhead/Kindergarten…

Doing great – except for fine motor issues have arrived. The boy can play video games til the cows come home, but can he grasp a pencil well? Nope. We’re working on it, but it is incredibly frustrating for all of us. I’m trying not to get so frustrated, because I don’t want him to associate school work with frustration and struggles, but that is easier said than done.

Pregnancy…
Doing good – the complications that we were wary of last week have been cleared with good blood work results – so that’s good! I’m sick just about every morning at first rising, simply because I have this nasty thick post-nasal drip that seems to be inspired by pregnancy and an innocent cough in the morning leads to heaving leads to ick. I’m tired a lot – I’d forgotten how exhausting the 1st trimester can be! I’ve popped out pretty far for only being 9 wks and Charlie Brown is convinced we are twinning this go, despite my OB having copped a feel last week and reporting, “Things feel normal.” He remains unconvinced until we hear one heartbeat and/or see one baby on ultrasound. I am just ambivalent on the whole deal; until we have tangible proof that there is more than one, I am sold on the fact that I am just a early popper with one babe on the way.

So, tell me, which category would you say Hurricane Heather is? I’d say it’s at least a category 3, maybe category 4. At any rate, I’m a little tired of the storm and would just like to see some calm for awhile….

© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

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