"When I Look Back Upon My Life...
...it's always with a sense of shame..."
This morning I made my soon-to-be 4 year old son pancakes for breakfast. I somehow am capable of fucking up even instant pancakes--I think it has something to do with my complete inability to use a measuring cup properly. At any rate, I covered my faulty pancakes with Scooby Doo fruit snacks and Mrs. Butterworth's, and he ate them with relish.
Well, not with relish--believe it or not, I didn't put that on top of them.
Maybe next time.
Then I got him dressed and off we went to visit his new therapist. She met with him alone for about a half hour while I took a phone call from DB--"will you call me when you're done and let me know how it went?" No, I'll send you an email. "That's not what I asked you." Well, I don't want to talk to you, so I'd prefer to just email you. "Well, that's just your preference, that's not what I asked you to do." I'll email you. Click.
Oh, and Fuck you, by the way.
The therapist called me in after a half hour while the boy continued playing with her stuff. She told me when asked "who loves you," he responded "Mommy, and Ben, and Martha." Nothing about daddy, who, by the way, he mentioned only by first name. He talked about Ben a lot. He said he never gets in trouble at home. Then he recanted and said he does, and when he gets in trouble, he has to sit in his room.
She told me he's got the attention span of a gnat, but she attributes it to anxiety, not to ADHD. (Validation at last--THANK YOU.) She also said she doesn't see any outright defiance or aggression--I told her to "wait for it."
Then I took him to his new preschool. We walked in and he started acting like a little shit--just being difficult. "No, I don't WANT to go sit at the table, I want to play. I'm not hungry." The assistant and I managed to corral him to the lunch area, where he was offered a glass of milk, and apparently, that was all it took to reign him in. I called around 1:30, during rest time, and though he wasn't sleeping, he was resting quietly and talking to his new teacher with the other new kid.
Progress--not perfection. That's all we want here.
I had a mini-breakdown last night. I just felt like I spent most of Saturday and all of Sunday being a total rag to everyone, and I was generally hating myself for it. God, if Ben doesn't leave me within the next few days/weeks/months, I think I can rest assured he never will.
Speak of the devil, he's home, and needs the computer. Y'all know what that means...
This morning I made my soon-to-be 4 year old son pancakes for breakfast. I somehow am capable of fucking up even instant pancakes--I think it has something to do with my complete inability to use a measuring cup properly. At any rate, I covered my faulty pancakes with Scooby Doo fruit snacks and Mrs. Butterworth's, and he ate them with relish.
Well, not with relish--believe it or not, I didn't put that on top of them.
Maybe next time.
Then I got him dressed and off we went to visit his new therapist. She met with him alone for about a half hour while I took a phone call from DB--"will you call me when you're done and let me know how it went?" No, I'll send you an email. "That's not what I asked you." Well, I don't want to talk to you, so I'd prefer to just email you. "Well, that's just your preference, that's not what I asked you to do." I'll email you. Click.
Oh, and Fuck you, by the way.
The therapist called me in after a half hour while the boy continued playing with her stuff. She told me when asked "who loves you," he responded "Mommy, and Ben, and Martha." Nothing about daddy, who, by the way, he mentioned only by first name. He talked about Ben a lot. He said he never gets in trouble at home. Then he recanted and said he does, and when he gets in trouble, he has to sit in his room.
She told me he's got the attention span of a gnat, but she attributes it to anxiety, not to ADHD. (Validation at last--THANK YOU.) She also said she doesn't see any outright defiance or aggression--I told her to "wait for it."
Then I took him to his new preschool. We walked in and he started acting like a little shit--just being difficult. "No, I don't WANT to go sit at the table, I want to play. I'm not hungry." The assistant and I managed to corral him to the lunch area, where he was offered a glass of milk, and apparently, that was all it took to reign him in. I called around 1:30, during rest time, and though he wasn't sleeping, he was resting quietly and talking to his new teacher with the other new kid.
Progress--not perfection. That's all we want here.
I had a mini-breakdown last night. I just felt like I spent most of Saturday and all of Sunday being a total rag to everyone, and I was generally hating myself for it. God, if Ben doesn't leave me within the next few days/weeks/months, I think I can rest assured he never will.
Speak of the devil, he's home, and needs the computer. Y'all know what that means...

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