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It’s not always an uphill battle…

First of all– I apologize for the long time between posts. Holidays are hectic even without everything we have going on and it’s been way too easy to put off this post for way too many days/weeks.

I’ve honestly not wanted to write lately because things have gotten more difficult and I was so afraid of coming off negative, etc.

After a month of tomorrows… and the realization that things aren’t just going to ‘get better’ so I may as well share my experience with people who might actually ‘get’ it.

I was walking with a friend today and she commented (after Marley expertly avoided coming within 5 feet of a storm drain), “I feel like every day is an uphill battle for you….”
My reply?
“Nope. Some days are downhill– I see thing things are going to go to crap, and so I just go with it .”

Lately, our rollercoaster has just been in the most frustrating bb
_____________________________________________________________

And that’s where I fell asleep.
Almost a month ago.
I’m fairly sure I erased the 3 lines of ‘b’s that followed those two.. but you get the gist.

I can make excuses…. I can talk about how I’m usually on line from my phone and how hard it is to actually ‘write’ on that tiny screen… I can talk about all our new pets (a hedgehog!? another dog!?) and how ‘busy’ I am… but really, what keeps me away?

What makes it so hard to come back here and write?

This is what I wanted, isn’t it?

I wanted ‘answers’. I wanted ‘a diagnosis’. I wanted someone to look me in the eye and say ‘you’re not crazy’.

So why isn’t this any easier? Why can’t I just come here and spill words into entries 3 at a time and let them autopublish for the week?

I could say it’s because I’m busy ‘being a mom’– too busy to write about it… but then, my Facebook  holds me accountable and tells a different story (though it IS easy to post little blurbs from my phone).

Honestly, I don’t know why it’s so hard.

Yes, we’ve had a lot going on– who doesn’t? After Christmas we have less than 4 weeks before the birthdays start coming. Killian on 1/23, Chloe on 1/30, me on 2/10 (not that there’s an event for that, lol!), and suddenly it’s the end of February and I wonder where the first two months of the year went.

I’m still holding that long sought after paperwork that I needed to get Marley some services through the school district, however, we don’t know if we’ll even be in this school district much longer. My theory there is ‘why fight now only to fight again’? I know that I’m in for a lifetime of ‘fight’… but the process.. the red tape.. the transition for Marley… it’s enough to keep me sitting where I am and doing what I can for her at home. I’m hoping to get her into a local church next week for half hour long music and movement sessions. They have an area I can keep Killian and I’ll be close if something goes odd with Marley. (Right now my biggest worry is that she’ll tell someone the new dog is a ‘crotch licker’ like she did in PetSmart a few days ago… It may be true, but that 3 year old doesn’t need to know….)

Oh, Marley…

The past few months have definitely been rough.

I’m still in that place where I ‘can’ tell people that she has Autism… but I seldom do… I just stammer and ‘blah blah sensory issues…..’ 😦 Way to raise awareness mom.

I still cringe when people use improper pronouns (he/him) to describe HER/SHE. I still hope she doesn’t hear.
I am still filled with preoccupation about what people think when we go out to eat and I gravel like a thief before the queen when I realize I grabbed ‘the wrong yogurt’ on my way out the door to avoid a meltdown because as of 20 minutes ago she ‘hates’ her (previously) favorite restaurant.   When they come over and tell me that Killian deserves ice cream because ‘he was so good!’… I want to be sick. On them. And punch them. In the face. Simultaneously.

But I don’t. Nor do I call them out on their passive aggressive judgement and explain to them that last time we were at this restaurant Marley was under the table howling for the hour we were here… so in comparison to that, today was ‘good’. TODAY, she’s only wearing clothes 2 sizes too big instead of clothes from the womens/junior’s section. TODAY, she brushed her teeth with banana/apple baby toothpaste that costs more than double what I spend on mine.. and the other kids’… combined… for half the amount. TODAY, she agreed to come to this restaurant that she suddenly hates… on ONE condition– that I bring the frickin’ yogurt. The chocolate whipped Yoplait yogurt. Would I prefer organic? Local? Sure. But she wanted me to bring the chocolate whipped kind. The kind that Ben went to the store the night before to buy and then placed in the fridge for me. And that, my friend, is the game changing moment. I didn’t put the yogurt away. I let Ben do it. The man is practically an engineer– he can handle buying and storing yogurt. Right? Of course he can. It would be unfair to cop out and blame him. He did what I needed. He got the yogurt. He put it on the top shelf. Job well done. Until I messed it all up. I didn’t look into the fridge as I balanced a 35lb toddler on one hip, keys in my mouth, and a diaper bag on my shoulder. I just grabbed. I just reached in and grabbed one of the 4 yogurts on the top shelf, tossed it in my bag, loaded up the car, and drove the 20 minutes to the restaurant where I plopped it down on the table, peeled back the top and in doing so, unleashed the horror of key lime. Oh yes– nothing like seeing lime green where there should be chocolate.  I saw it only slightly before she did and I started pleading– I’m sorry! So sorry! It’s my fault.. I should have looked…… I beg her to breathe.. to calm down… in hushed whispers as I feel their eyes burning into me.

::inhale:: ::exhale::
Wow. That day still stings… I feel like I’m in the hobbit phase now.. Is that a phase in the grief/acceptance process? It’s probably a cute word for denial… :/

Chloe is pulling away and finding it harder and harder to choose to relate to Marley and easier just to stay at/return to her dad’s house where things are ‘normal’. That kills me. It literally breaks my heart in two.

But I get it.

Wouldn’t I like a safe place? Somewhere that I could go and not worry about crossing the mindfield that has become Marley?

Of course I would– but that’s not reality for me. In some ways, I’m glad that Chloe has that escape… and in others… I am completely envious.

I hope to be more ‘present’ here. This is my ‘place’.

When she’s sleeping.. and Killian is sleeping.. and Chloe is gone… this is my escape. I’ve had many wonderful moms reach out to me in the short time I’ve been blogging.. and I see the support that these ‘mommy bloggers’give each other… I want that.
I NEED that.
WE need that.
Because some days, when I see it all going to crap… I need someone to roll with down this long mine covered hill.

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