Frustrating!

I KNOW Son can do more than I sometimes give him credit for; that I need to believe in him. And I do! I do! I'm his biggest damned advocate and have been since he was born. 

I know I'm also overprotective.

We grew up together; I learned how to raise children with my special needs child. I sometimes look at Daughter as an adult because she is so different, and I know that's not fair to her. She's four years younger and tries really hard to be patient and understand why he's such a squeaky wheel and gets more attention. I also try to acknowledge her for it. Often.

Son wants to be home schooled like his BFF, but Ex says Son needs the socialization of his public school. We have often differed in what to do for Son, and how to raise him. I tend to coddle him, and Ex tends to be a drill sergeant.

I'd do anything to help him find his place in the world and his self esteem. He is not a boy/man that thrives in big groups.

He spent a good part of the weekend with party guests taking breaks alone. Partner got him out on the Ultimate Frisbee field to play with his pickup team, and Son lasted a few minutes before he declared his foot hurt. He also asked why Partner was yelling at him, and since another sensitive boy who was there asked Partner NOT to yell at him, I know that it's just THE DAD VOICE partner has sometimes when he's trying to organize a group of kids/people. I explained that to them and everyone felt better...Partner thought it was amusing and pointed out the they weren't likely to hear that voice from him anywhere else.

I'm thrilled because Son went out and tried. That is HUGE. I am fortunate that Partner understands my need for a positive role model for Son as well as occasional help. He'll do things for Partner (so far) that he won't do for me.

I'll take it. 

Son is more like me in that he needs/wants to be solitary sometimes. He played with everyone at the party and had a good time, but the lack of routine and knowing what would happen next has always disturbed him.

No matter what I do, Son is son and I have to help him find the path that works for him. Not what his father would like him to be...and for the record, I wouldn't change him one bit, unless I could do something to make life easier for him.

Which reminds me...when my brother came out of the closet (we were in high school) my mother cried. She explained to him that it was not because he is gay, it's because his life was going to be harder.

That's how I feel about Son. I love him. I love the way he is. I love that he just wants to be loved and make people laugh. He wants acceptance and to be comfortable. 

Isn't that what we all want?

The issue is, often it takes different circumstances to give him that comfort and acceptance.

If he was home schooled (charter schools here where he can go in once a week and do his work at home) he'd be in an environment with other kids like him. There would be socialization and more potential for good friendships in an atmosphere that is understanding, rather than being silent in public school for fear that someone will judge him and compare him to the other kids who don't appear to have social and school trouble like him.

He has friends, just not many in his public school.

I don't know what's right for him. He's more like me, and people don't GET that. His dad thinks I'm holding him back. Putting labels on him. 

I have labels dammit! Depression! Learning disability! Social anxiety! Codependent! ADD! Where do I draw the line between trying to make people understand and labeling him?! Argh.

For the record: his dad and I are great at co-parenting. I don't have (many) complaints. He loves them.I respect his opinion because he does his best just like I try to do

....and labeling myself. I'm not ashamed of my mental health.

However, I think Son will most likely stay in public school because Ex and I have to agree for Son to change his education plan. Ex stopped responding to my emails about Home Schooling and changed the subject.

Story of my life with him.

10 and Not Blinding Party Goers

Partner was telling his best friend yesterday that his dad took him to see "10" (with Dudley Moore) when he was 8. He told Best Friend that he's liked big breasted women ever since, then he looks meaningfully at me.

*more than a little pride and a big grin*

On another note, this last weekend was another for EPIC BEST WEEKENDS EVER for the memory books. There is so much to tell, I'm overwhelmed with what to put first.

So I'll start with:

Daughter was opening presents in which one mom had packed "poppers"; those confetti things that have a kick in them, that are supposed to be used outside only. Daughter was so distracted and excited she shot it off right then and there.

Next thing we know, her best friend from grade school is screaming bloody murder. I shoved one kid out of the way, hard, to get at her to see if she was alright, and took control of the situation. I talked to her and kissed her forehead and soothed her until she calmed down enough to talk. I then ascertained that she was not bleeding or blind, then ushered her off to the bathroom to wash out her eye. Partner came up behind with a wet towel, which turned out was all she needed. The spark apparently landed on her eyelid and not her eyeball, thank you little tiny baby jesus.

Daughter told me this later the next night when we were checking in together after the busy weekend. I told her she might have told me that sooner! I thought her friend's mother was going to skin me, and that Daughter had blinded a party guest.

Daughter's BFFGS then proceeded to get giggly and happy again, and I texted her mom, who was not concerned because she was fine.

Thank you thank you thank you.

I came back into the room with D's BFFGS and everyone was relieved she was ok. Before we moved on with presents I got their attention and said, "Alright now, who did I shove when I was trying to get at D's BFFGS?" Karma Daughter raised her hand, grinning. Good lord. I shoved my own Karma Daughter out of the way. I also discovered my phone on the floor, which is apparently where I threw it as I shoved KD.

Sigh.

Welp, no one can say I'm not in control in a crisis. Partner did tell me later that if I was going to shove anyone, I made a good choice because KD is tough. :) I can always count on him to soothe me.

A few minutes later I discovered Son was falling apart, having been traumatized by the screaming...he is so sensitive...so much like me. I talked him down and cuddled and soothed him, as best as I could soothe a boy/man that is taller than I, and we talked it out. I told him his reaction was totally normal, as was mine, and he started crying. He felt better, and not as embarrassed as Partner came in to check in with him too, and then Son's friend drifted in...and we moved along with the party.

I took a quick breather in my room and started to fall apart myself, coming down off the adrenaline, gave myself 5 minutes, than staggered back into the fray.

It was still one of the best weekends on record, and I will post again later to tell more stories.

Have a great Monday!

Happy Little 'ole New Year!

Father's Chance to Abuse on Mother's Day

He got me again.

Bastard. Through the kids again. Now I'm getting angry.

My kids gave me wonderful, thoughtful Mother's Day presents that they created with their own hands, with direction, ideas, and help directly from my abuser.

My daughter woke me up with milk and toast and kisses, as well as a handmade card from school that I will treasure forever. She is a sweet and thoughtful girl, and I am lucky to have her. Then she handed me a gold wrapped present. I opened it to discover 9 sand dollars mounted in a shadowbox. 9 sand dollars that we found on the beach as a family on a vacation before the divorce. 9 sand dollars that were supposed to be a present for my mother on her birthday years ago. A project ex came up with, never finished, raged about with failed attempts to craft, then put it in the garage for years until he moved out and took it with him.

My sensitive and funny son gave me a gift of 8 painted fish tiles in a frame. 8 fish tiles that were supposed to be in a bathroom ex was going to let me decorate. 8 fish tiles he gave me because he knows I love the ocean, though I didn't pick them out myself. 8 fish tiles that sat in a bag in our garage that had become a hidy-hole for spiders while he ignored 'our' plan for a bathroom upgrade, until the city sewer backed up into our bathroom forcing a remodel. 8 fish tiles that sat in that spidery bag in the garage as he 'let me choose' paint he picked and different tiles, making the bathroom that was supposed to be for me into something he wanted. Again.

The fish tile picture is sitting on the dresser in my bedroom affecting me, the same way the sand dollar shadow box is hanging on the wall. I smiled and told my kids the presents were beautiful and thoughtful and spent some time cuddling and talking with them.

I fell apart later with my partner.

It's hard to explain why the gifts trigger me and I can understand why it wouldn't make sense. One reason (I was trying to explain this to my partner who often understands me before I say anything, being intuitive to my feelings.) is that they represent two of eleventy-billion projects that he raged against himself for not finishing, then took out on us. Being a perfectionist often paralyzes him, as he's not able to live up to his own standards. Reason two, that just looking at them sitting in my bedroom reminds me about his two decades of abuse and my life as a doormat. Three, it infuriates me beyond belief that he can still trigger me. There is more, but later maybe.

I know that he's given them to me through our kids to say, "Look! I finished it! You can have it now!", and that deep down in his psyche, though he would never, ever admit it, "You were wrong about me. I'm different without you. Better. Happier. I showed you, didn't I?"

Some might say I should put them somewhere where they don't trigger me so much, but my children being proud of giving me those gifts is more important to me than how the gifts make me feel. Whether or not he did it deliberately to abuse me, whether he considers it 'redemption' for what he sometimes admitted to doing to me, on rare occasions when I could get through to him, or all of the above, I'll probably never know. I don't care. I never want to talk to him again, and I sure as hell am not going to ask him.

So I'm going to use those gifts they're so proud of to remind me to be strong.

I am very conscious that I ignored ex's birthday the next day, and I'm going to try to ignore the fact that he will probably use it as an example for his new girlfriend and his family further to prove that I am heartless and cruel because he's the BEST EX HUSBAND EVER. This is his new goal in the public eye.  I am no longer in the business of rewarding him for breaking me. Lord knows what he's told his family. It must be pretty good because not one of them has made any attempt to contact me. He was always great in public, singing the praises of my mothering, housekeeping, and being a wife.

Unless he was drunk. Or angry. Or I didn't go along with his plan. Then he would lose control of the carefully planned message he sent out to the world.

My daughter heard me crying later and came into my room to see me in my partner's arms, wiping my eyes. I told her I'd had a rough week, and that I was just processing it. That I was ok. She acted silly to make me smile, made sure I was ok, then wandered off.

Am I doing my children a disservice? Maybe. They're smart, they trust me, and they're comfortable knowing that if they ask my anything I'll give them an honest, if not edited for child content, answer. Someday I'll talk to them about it. Particularly if I find that ex is emotionally abusing them. He's a controlling and domineering father, but I don't think he's being abusive. I prod them gently for information every once in a while and listen carefully when they talk about him. If they ask me directly, I will not lie. I've told them a little bit, which I'll talk about in later posts.

It's just one more thing he's done to continue his abuse from afar.

Happy Mother's Day!

Hopefully moms are resting and relaxing today, and not because you opened the wrong can.