Rainy Day Mondays

Today's weather in Syracuse is so much like what our life has been like this past year: sunny, rain, sunny, rain, sunny, rain. It is a roller coaster - but the catch is that you can't seem to get off this ride; it just keeps going and going. To keep up with the metaphor - let's just say I am very nauseous.

Zach had an active day yesterday - he had visitors during the day - an aunt, uncle, and cousin, then his Babcia Boulware and Aunt Lois. Later he went to dinner at his aunt and uncle's house where he proceeded to eat a big bowl of broccoli.

During his visit from his aunt, uncle, and cousin, he was extremely testy. He refused to say anything and wanted to be held by his father the whole time. When his grandma and great aunt came over later, he was much more at ease. By the evening he was all wound up and feeling his oats while at his aunt and uncle's house, running around and getting into mischief.

I realized that evening why we all the sudden received so much attention: my job loss. Apparently, my mother seems to think this is a devastating loss. It is a tough thing to handle, I admit, more so because of the loss of income than the change in my identity. I think I am OK with being a nobody SAHM. The lack of profession may make me a dull character to some, but anyone who knows me knows that I am by no means a shrinking violet. A tough hit, nonetheless, but nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to having a child with a lifelong disability.

Then came this morning. Zach went to bed fairly well after his bath last night - late but not extremely late like on other days. He slept in until almost 9:00 am! One of his therapists, who has been on vacation for 8 days, came back and all hell broke loose. I tried to attend the session in the beginning thinking that would help. Uuhh not quite. Then I left the room to see if that would help. I have never heard Zach scream and tantrum like he did during this session. He was throwing his body against the ground and his head against the wall. It took everything in my power to not run up and interrupt. By the time Zach's therapist #2 arrived, I was a bundle of nerves.

I sat in on the onset of that session too, which seemed to go a bit better. Then Sophia's sitter stopped in to tell me that Sophia had a sliver under her fingernail that she got at the playground and it was bothering her. Off I went, and off Zach went. He finally passed out when therapist #3 arrived and slept in his easy chair sitting up.

I was besides myself. Therapist #2 stuck around and told me that she would do her work from here. She told me to go out and run some errands. I didn't really want to go, but alas, we needed food.

Off to Wegman's I went. I was in such a fog that even though I had a written list of items to pick up, I was getting confused as to what I had put in the cart and what I hadn't. By the time I got into the checkout line, still in a fog, but felt that I had adequately purchased what we needed. As I scanned in my "shopper's club card", the sensor couldn't read my card and the cashier was having a hard time manually entering the card. I kept on thinking of how the therapists probably were waiting for me to get home so they could leave. I thought about Zach screaming and throwing himself. I began to cry. The cashier probably thought I was nuts to get so upset about getting my discount on my strawberries and chicken. I didn't even care that anyone saw me so distraught. I just wanted to get home to my kids.

I arrived home and Zach was still sleeping. The therapist helped me to unload the groceries from the car, I told her what happened in Wegman's. She was so kind to me. I really needed that. She told me she could tell how shaken I was when she arrived earlier in the day. We hypothesized on what could have made him flip out so much. We talked about getting therapists to come on the weekend that might help alleviate the transition from weekend to weekday. She summed up what was likely the cause of my complete despair: we went from a phenomenal week last week, to the worst behavioral day he has ever had. In essence, I went from having my hopes raised so high, to having them dashed all in a matter of 3 days. The swing was too great for me too handle.

In the past year we have lost a grandma and a puppy, had my mother diagnosed with cancer and the aftermath of that, had Sophia diagnosed with a disability, had Zachary dxed with autism, had our car stolen, lost my job, and had some health issues - it is an awful lot to handle, and I am not doing it well, but WE are doing - Steve, Sophia, Zach and me are trying to act like life is just normal. Besides the initial few days when I realized Zach's was autistic and when Buddy passed right before Christmas, I have really not cried. Ask Steve, I really haven't. I didn't cry when the doctor first gave Zach his diagnosis. I didn't cry when it was confirmed by a second or third doctor. That is why the few tears I shed in Wegman's were a bit of a surprise to me. I thought we had found a way to redefine normal for our life.

But alas it isn't. I thought back to the true impetus to my tears in Wegman's; two young women standing behind me in Wegman's discussing life's trials and tribulations. This is what was plaguing these two women: her brother-in-law's boat died right before the fourth of July and ruined their holiday, and the other woman was complaining about the fact that getting her hard wood floor refinished was taking longer than the guy told her. I admit it, I was feeling sorry for myself in a big way. I wish I could go back to when things like that were my biggest worries. I don't want to wake up with this weight on my chest anymore. I want to wake up and Zach is talking, smiling, interacting. I want to feel that the future, although uncertain, has no limitations. I want my boy to tell me he loves me, or at least that he has a boo boo. Is that so much to ask?

I hate the pity party I am stuck in right now - it isn't going to do anyone any good. It will only drive people away from me. Who wants to listen to someone bitch and moan all the time - regardless of if they have something to b&m about. No one wants to be around that.

I don't want him to tantrum anymore. I want him to work hard, to progress - like he was last week. Maybe that is why the layoff wasn't bothering me so much - he did so well. Today's post is a little gloomy. It was a rough day to handle. I think my pity party has subsided, at least I am not crying over discounts on produce.

Here's hoping that there is no repeat performance for Zach tomorrow. I really don't want to prefer to be at work.