Struggle Bus

As I sit in my car having a bawl in my driveway, I got the urge to write about it. Not in the “I want everyone to see this” way, in the “I bet other people do this too” way.

Momming is hard.

Momming two autistic children with vastly different needs is also hard.

Trying to find time for self-care in all of this might be the hardest.

All I want to do is sit down and finish my book. Is that so hard? It feels like a long weekend would be a great time to do that. It is what I am craving most in the world. A day where I can just read.

But, alas, I’ve learned in my 8.5 years of parenting – there’s just some times that I can’t do what I want to do, and it makes me frustrated and anxious and, quite honestly, resentful.

Today we had to come back early from St. Shotts. Rory got sick and he’s pitiful and we were nervous being so far away from medical care. I had a whole relaxing weekend planned – the kids love St. Shotts, and they’d be doing their own thing while I read my book. And that was the case mostly, except when Rory’s fever spiked and all he wanted was a mommy snuggle (no complaints from me). Or when Penny sat in the river because she has no concept of cause and effect and she needed a piggy back ride home while yelling “I froze!” at me (which, quite frankly, was hilarious).

She’s doing this reallllllly annoying thing lately though where whenever I say something (usually some version of “no”) she counters with “mommy’s yelling!”. It has the same effect on me as someone telling me to “calm down” during an argument. The urge to yell is immense. 

When we got home, I left her alone for the amount of time it took me to pee and she ripped up a ceiling tile, ate a handful of sugar, and almost got out the back door. In that moment I did yell something along the lines of “see! this is what yelling sounds like!” My throat literally hurts from how mad I was in the moment. The moment I turn from understanding mom to batman voice mom, Penny knows that shit has hit the fan. It won’t make a difference though. I wouldn’t be shocked if I see her climb over the fence while I’m sitting (read: sulking) in the car.

To be clear, I’m not actually sure what’s upsetting me. There’s nothing special about today that is any better or worse than other days. I’m assuming it’s a mix of “I don’t wanna go home!” toddler emotions with a mix of the just complete overwhelm I often feel with life.

The kids remind me of wack a mole sometimes. One behaviour starts, and while you’re trying to help them with that one another pops up and all of a sudden I can’t figure out where to focus and then I just sit down and focus on just what’s in front of me and ignore the rest until I can’t anymore. (For the record, I’m aware behaviours are caused by an unmet need, but while I’m sorting that out, I still need to not have someone climb a fence or throw all of my eggs on the floor or dump a whole carton of milk on the couch or take down all the ceiling tiles…etc etc).

I’ve very recently, like within the past week or so, come to accept the fact that my kids need one on one support. And that I, as their mother, am not the exception to that. It’s not my personal failing that I cannot handle both of my kids at the same time. It’s not feasible and it’s certainly not safe. I’m not saying this is forever and that things won’t maybe change eventually, but I’ve come to accept that they will need one on one support for the foreseeable future. I might be late to the party on this realization, but we all get there in our own time. 8.5 years for me is actually not a bad average.

So, because I know I’m not alone on the mom struggle bus, come join me. You can openly have a cry and there will be no judgment from me. As long as you don’t judge my batman mom voice and the state of my food covered floors.

I’m going to leave some pictures of St. Shotts because it’s our happy place. Even though Rory’s sick, you can see how much enjoyment he had anyways.