I SHOULD be packing

As the doom of moving lurks around me, I can’t seem to get enough motivation to do anything.  This fog is thick and is impossible to maneuver through.  We aren’t moving far, so I am not planning on packing much.  Clothes will stay on the hangars and just go from one closet to the next; dishes will be stacked on my lap and go from one cabinet to the next.  But even though this should be easier, somehow there is still SO MUCH to do!  And the garage?  It currently looks like a hoarder’s nest. I cannot even think about it.

Should I do laundry?  It would be just to put it all away in places that won’t exist in3 days…it just doesn’t seem to be worth it.  Yet, there’s a load in the washer and one in the dryer.  Dusting, mopping, and cleaning is still happening since my landlord is showing the house almost daily, but it seems like a moot point.  It is just getting dirtier when I pack, and when we move it will end up downright filthy.  Why bother?  With huge projects like going through closets and cabinets, there doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day to watch kids, carpool to and from school, and keep up with the things that maintain the house.  Needless to say, I am starting to feel overwhelmed.  

While on the subject of being overwhelmed, I am more of a cat than a dog.  I saw this meme and knew it was me to a T.  I don’t do well on car trips, I don’t like change, and I do not like to move.  Seriously.  I FREAK OUT on car trips.  And I really cannot handle moving.  My body doesn’t do well with change either.  I end up really sick EVERY time.  Every.  Time.  The day we decided we are moving, I cried. Within a day I started getting lip sores.  Disgusting, yes.  I have had lip sores off and on for the past 2 weeks straight.  Sunday I started getting a sore throat, too.  I have had a headache and a sore throat with extreme fatigue since Sunday.  Like I said, I am a cat.  I cannot handle change, not mentally, not physically, not emotionally.

I only have nine boxes packed.  Nine.  You really can’t even tell that we are moving.  I am not lazy and I am not even procrastinating (well, maybe a little).  The idea of moving just seems too big.  Raul is working two jobs and so he isn’t here during the day or at night.  I am doing all of this alone.  Because being a mom of four was easy enough.  Because babysitting other kids in addition to my own was just plain simple.  Because being totally and completely OCD and constantly clean and tidy was just a breeze.  Please, please pile more on my plate.

On a completely different and unrelated note, we went to the pediatrician yesterday.  He and I did a questionnaire-style test on Alex for Asperger’s.  He scored on almost every question.  It was almost funny to me because I have been keeping a list of things that are extremes for him, or things that worry me, ticks of his, and just some other Alex-isms.  Every single thing on my list were questions that were asked on the test.  I know my mom’s intuition is right, but sometimes you hope to be wrong.  I can say that, while I am relieved that there might be an explanation, I am disappointed that I might be right.  There is not an official diagnosis as of now, but we are definitely in the works of getting one.  I will make sure to keep everyone posted.  

Kylie finally grew. Finally. She even hit 40 pounds!!! Her stomach aches are concerning, though, so we are going to be doing lab work and starting her on meds.  Of course her OCD and anxiety are worrisome so we will be keeping an eye on those behaviors as well.  But for now she is mostly healthy and finally on the growth charts! 

Aiden is still around the 5th percentile on everything.   He's always been so tiny! I don't know how anyone could not love Aiden.  That little guy is a fighter and took his four year-old shots like a champ!  That kid steals everyone's hearts.  

Okay so clearly all these updates on my kids really does boil down to procrastination.  I will stop procrastinating.  Thanks for reading, y'all!

just a bunch o' chocolate chips...

Days like today evoke some intense emotions and some serious reflection. There is that overwhelmingly bittersweet aroma of change lurking everywhere and it can make it difficult to breathe. Major milestones such as the first day of kindergarten, or even the first day of first grade, are very emotional.  I was not that mom that took a million photos of my kids.  I did not make them pose in front of every part of their classroom.  I was not that obnoxious overbearing mom who can’t let go.  I mean, I am a seasoned parent.  I have been a mom for seven years, I have sent Kylie off to kindergarten, I have raised four [mostly] well behaved kids and I can handle this.  Can’t I?

Among the chaos of getting everyone ready for the first day of school, breakfast, five daycare kids coming (two being late), loading 5 car seats into the car, strapping six kids in and making sure that three have seatbelts on, I was still able to quickly get my traditional first day photo in front of the door.  

Alex was so excited and not even nervous.  He was born for kindergarten.  He is the kindergarten master.  No fear.

Kylie was excited too.  She was a little nervous mainly because the school split up her group of friends (surprise, surprise) and she got the teacher that she didn’t know. But she still couldn't wait.  Remember when school used to be fun?

But overall, even with the stress, it was okay.  All the craziness and chaos kept me from being overly emotional and attached and, like I said anyway, I can handle this.  I knew Alex was going to be a breeze.  He is different from most kids, at one point it was suspected that he was autistic, and he still has some major Asperger’s signs and I keep a list.  But with his……uniqueness…..comes a lot of trial and difficulty.  He is not an easy child.  He throws massive fits, can scream for hours, has never said he loves me, and doesn’t like to be touched.  Let’s rewind and go back to that he has never said he loves me.  I am really not sure if he loves me! I know the important thing is that he knows that he is loved but it is really hard to have a deep emotional connection to someone who is hard and not affectionate like that.  I try constantly.  I do.  And I love that kid equally as much as the others, but I have been struggling with it.  I am struggling with not being sure if my child loves me.  He does well with school, the structure and routine is good for him, so I have been really really really looking forward to school.  So has he.  He was so grown up and such a big boy.  I wasn’t overly emotional.  I did, however, totally embarrass him on his first day.  It was totally that mom licking her finger and wiping his face type of moment....only worse.  His pants were falling down because I totally forgot to adjust the waistline.  So, I did what every responsible and OCD mother would do and I did it right then and there in front of the class.  Um.....oops.  And then, to make matters worse, I tucked in his shirt.  Double oops.  So after his mom basically stuck her hands down his pants in front of all his classmates, he sat down, smiled for the one photo that I took, and didn’t even say bye.  I was okay.  It was easier than I even thought.  Then I walked Kylie to her class.

Kylie FINALLY made it to first grade after repeating kindergarten (don’t even get me started).  I knew for a fact that I could handle it.  I mean, first grade isn’t as big of a deal as two years in kindergarten, right?  Kinder is the main milestone and I made it through that.  Twice.  Yeah, um, except for the fact that she FINALLY made it to first grade and I was SO PROUD!  But I was still okay.  I could still handle it.  Pose in front of class door, check.  Say have a nice day, check.  Tell her to go find her friends and play, check.  Then it happened.  My breaking point.  She had ran multiple classrooms down the hall and I had started to walk the other way and I heard a frantic, “MOM!!!”  So I turned around and she yelled out, “I LOVE YOU!” I told her I loved her too, made it to the parking lot……and...well....and then I cried.  Yes, yes I did and I have cried off and on all day.  At noon I picked up Alex and he seemed so grown up and I cried a little again.  Change.  Bittersweet.  Necessary and wonderful, but bittersweet.

I'll show you crazy....

My emotions all came to a head the other day.  I had a full on toddler-style meltdown.  It all came pouring out on my poor husband who didn’t see it coming.  Our relationship is strong, we haven’t been fighting, we talk about things, we don’t always agree but we work things out.  So when I had my outburst he was shocked and confused.  Wasn’t it just the day before that I publicly confessed my deep love and appreciation for him on Facebook? Yes, yes it was.

I cannot full explain as to why I had this outburst, but I know that there are several factors.  One of these factors is my deep routed issues, fears, and lies that I believe about myself.  I have abandonment issues and I have never ever felt wanted.  I feel like most of my life I was tolerated and some horrible things were said to me by peers and even a youth leader while I was in junior high and high school. 

Raul is working a second job and while I am proud of him and grateful for him, I miss him.  It is as simple as that.  I have been a big girl about it and have been working really hard not to let it bother me.  But, when he does have time to spend with me, it really hurts my feelings when he chooses other things.  For example, he has been spending a lot of time on his phone.  It is little silly things like shopping yard sale sights, but that doesn’t change how I feel.  It was after three instances in a twenty-four hour period where I had finally had enough. 

In reality, the poor guy hadn’t done anything wrong.  There’s nothing wrong with trying to find a good deal for things that we need.  I know he was not intentionally hurting me, but it was hurting me nonetheless.  I felt like I was begging for attention and when I was constantly rejected, I reacted.  I was quite silly actually and he walked away.  Of course this upset me even more, so after he worked out in the garage for about four hours, I was fuming.  I got even worse and it was ugly. 

After crazy psychotic Allysia calmed down we had a good discussion and resolution.  I wish I wasn’t so emotional sometimes and I wish that I didn’t have these scars that I have.  But I do, and I am trying to work with them.  I have come to feel very unimportant and almost unnecessary.  That, paired with merely being tolerated, is deadly to the soul.  While I am sitting and stewing in the crockpot of my worthlessness, I begin to act out because of it.  My depression gets worse, my social anxiety gets worse.  I shut down and I shut people out.  If I let people in, they will begin to notice that I really am worthless, that there is no point to spending time with me.  The lies tell me that if my own husband doesn’t want to spend time with me, then who will?  I know I don’t.

So how do I learn to love myself?  How do I learn to accept who I am?  How do I learn to not hide in the shadows anymore?  I don’t want to sulk and hope someone notices me; I want to be a strong independent person who doesn’t depend on people to feel good.  How do I do that?  How do I change who I am?  How can I show people that I am loveable even though I can’t seem to love myself?  Better yet, how can I learn to believe that I really am loveable?  I do not feel like I am, like I said, I feel tolerated.  I do not feel wanted. 

I need to be pursued and wanted, but I cannot control whether people pursue or want me.  How do I move on without feeling devastated when I am feeling left out?  I want to be chosen, I want to be important, I want to be wanted.  How do I continue to smile when I do not feel this way?  This makes me seem so needy and nobody wants to spend all their time with a needy person either, so how do I learn to be confident without needing everyone so much?  

I love my husband so much and I feel really bad that I took all of this turmoil out on him.  I am so lucky that he is forgiving and loves me unconditionally.  I am so grateful that he would never leave me, no matter how bad my crazy gets.  I love you, Raul, so very much and I really am sorry for how I treated you. I am so grateful that you get me, that you HAVE chosen me, and for the example that you are for our children.  I am so blessed that you are mine.