Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Sink or Swim.

Every day, I get to make a choice. Do I sink or do I swim? Most days, it would be easy to say "I can't do this, this is too hard, I'm done". But really, that isn't a choice and who am I kidding? Every day I get up, push my heavy heart aside and look in the mirror at the tired and worn down version of myself that I never envisioned when I told Scott "I want a baby". I look in the mirror and triple-dog-dare myself to muster up the strength to battle through another day. To give Max what he needs, make sure Cameron gets the attention she deserves (and demands!) and that I leave enough left over for Scott (or at least try). I go to work and I do my best to do a good job. Most days I feel like I fall short on all fronts. I look at Max as he gets bigger and harder to manage and I worry. He is freakishly strong. We are now at a point where we can't physically force him to do anything he doesn't want to do. I'm only 5'4 - he'll tower over me in the not so distant future. What am I supposed to do then?

I've had to make some difficult decisions around Max over the past few weeks. I decided to remove him from his daycare (the one I worked so hard with to transition him to the preschool room). After spending a lot of money attempting to train their staff and get him into a consistent routine, it was all for naught. Their staff turnover made it impossible for Max to pair with his teachers and their programming just wasn't able to support a child with special needs. I feel like I failed. I wanted so badly for him to be in an environment where he would get exposed to "normal" kids. But after he got sent home with feces on his shirt and was allowed to eat mashed potatoes with his hands (he knows how to eat with a spoon and they didn't even give him one), I knew that this daycare was doing more harm than good and I needed to find something else for him.

That something else is to be determined. For now we are increasing his therapy hours, leaning on our respite worker, and calling in Super Bumpa and No Nonsense Nana. As I got ready to leave for work this morning, I looked out the backdoor at him, running around the backyard happily, his respite worker Kailee playing with him, and I felt so so sad. I want him to get to play with other kids. I want him to want to play with other kids. He isn't there yet. So I swim on. Of course I do.


  1. Anonymous10:33 p.m.

    Treading water right beside you Hon & praying someone will throw in the life line sooner than later . xTag

  2. Lily's mom2:23 p.m.

    I really missed reading your honest posts. So glad you're here again. It's amazing to read about how strong you are - and don't EVER doubt that. You are one of the fiercest moms out there, from what you write.:-)

  3. Roberta2:26 p.m.

    As a fellow mom, I SIGHED with agreement at what you wrote about the "worn down" version of yourself in the mirror. I think I've aged ten years in the last three that I've had kids. I hope to god I don't look like their grandma soon, lol!

    Chin up, Kat - you are doing great by your son. He is the luckiest little lad out there to have you.

  4. Anonymous8:28 p.m.

    One day at a time. That is how most people of courage and strength (like you and Scott) get through life's difficult years. I am convinced things will get better, but that doesn't make it any easier when the two of you are exhausted and when Max has had a string of bad days....when some of those who deal with him let you down. And, it is easy for the rest of us to say. I wish with all my heart that you two beautiful strong vital people did not have to go through all this. But love cannot wish autism away, as you know all too well. I admire your honesty. You can't always be bright and sunny and sometimes facing how tough it is right now is the sanest thing you can do.