Sunday, March 13, 2011

New adventure

There is something different about my baby.

I've known it since about halfway through her kindergarten year. That teacher was a year shy of retirement. She didn't see any problems. "She's fine." Are you sure? "She's fine."

Her first grade teacher said the same. "She's the youngest in her class. She'll catch up."

Second grade, same thing. "She's so bright and cute! She'll be fine. You don't want to hold her back, she'd be bored doing it again."

On to third grade. "You'd be surprised at this age. By the end of the year, most kids catch right up."

Four teachers passed her right on up to the next grade, and now in fourth grade, she's falling farther behind. And suddenly. She can't focus. She can't remember things. She gets frustrated. She climbs into a shell. She can't do what other kids can do, and she's never even realized it, and never even cared.

At nine-and-a-half years old, she doesn't know what Justin Bieber looks like. She watches Nickelodeon if her brother is home, but she prefers the Food Network. She comes home and tells me she has her homework done, she is sure, then we check, and it's not done. And she hasn't remembered to bring it home. She doesn't remember writing things down in her homework tracker. She doesn't know what her scribble even means.

Every week for the past few months, there have been failed tests to sign.

I spent four-plus years admonishing her, punishing her, yelling at her, screaming at her. I've cried in her face out of frustration. No 9-year-old should know the F-word. Mine has known it for a couple of years now.

She learned to rip notes out of her tracker from her teacher. She signed my name to a test. She's learned to write gibberish in her homework tracker just to get her teacher to sign off that she's "gotten it."

She's done this to keep me from screaming at her. AGAIN, ZOE? AGAIN???

She cries out in her sleep. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

I've told people for five years now that something is wrong with her. I just sensed something is wrong. Her vision is fine, her hearing is fine, yes, I know. I don't think she is being bullied, but I ask anyway. She is the youngest in the class and they say she will catch up, yeah, sure. She is small for her age, maybe it's just a way to make up for it, mmmm hmmmmm.

But nothing is wrong with my baby. She can pick up an instrument and start playing chords in a few minutes. She can make art that an adult would envy. She is inquisitive and can tell you anything about the Statue of Liberty that you dare to ask. She is trusting and loving, and maybe a little naive, but she'd give you her favorite stuffed animal if she thought it would help you sleep. She gets nervous around new friends but thinks up ways to engage them. She is affectionate and creative, she can see things in ways that surprise me and always asks questions that catch me off guard. I don't doubt she is smart. Even brilliant in ways.

Nothing is wrong with my baby. She's just different.



A few weeks ago, I finally got it.

We started the process of testing for learning disabilities. I kinda laugh at that word. Once I realized it… once I got my stupid ass out of denial… I see so much of the good in her. I've stopped yelling. She's stopped crying in her sleep. I don't cringe when I ask about homework, I don't sweat it even. She has become more honest, and can start to identify that she is struggling.

We don't know what it is yet that makes her special, but GODMOTHERFUCKINGDAMMIT, I am not going to stop looking until I know how I can make up for all those years of yelling, teachers who made excuses, and lost time and affection.

There is something different about my baby.

She is awesome.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Time

Ain't got no regrets.
Ain't losing track of
which way I'm going.
Ain't gonna double back now.
-- Lou Gramm


I just took off the last of the babyproofing latches. And I started bawling! It's hard to believe Jacob is going to be 4 in a month.

I guess I'm done hitting the snooze button on the biological clock. Which is strange, because:
1. I never really thought I'd be a good mom before I had kids.
2. I just spent a horrible day with four kids who walked all over me.

Yeah, I love 'em all. But it's really something to suddenly realize that procreation days are over when you never really planned on them meaning so much.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

The results are in...

Bad news comes, don't worry even when it lands
Good news will make its way to all them plans.

-- Modest Mouse

The tests are clear! I can't say the process of getting the good news was pleasant, but I am assured my boobs will live on. :)

That's one less thing for me to worry about. On to the next.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Breast Cancer Awareness Month is OVAH!

I don't know about you, but I like some of the quirky stories that come out of October. And the unique places that pink turns up. I'm not so keen on seeing pink on my NFL players, though. I think it's cute for about two weeks, then… I dunno. I'm glad they stick it out, but seeing that pink mixed with gold and green and maroon… Not visually pleasing!

But…. the month of November has begun, and what should we be looking forward to now? Thanksgiving… Black Friday… Fall… Winter coats…

I get to look forward to my first mammogram next week!

Today, my doctor found a lump. It is significant enough that I should have found it myself. Self-check, ladies! I have been through this before, 10 years ago, so it's not unfamiliar territory. I was much less educated then, and much more hysterical.

Life hasn't been too kind to me lately, healthwise and financially. My oldest is not doing so well in school. My fiance is off on a fishing trip with his friends. My pumpkin seeds turned out a little soggy. But this lump… this was a blow I didn't see coming. I cried a little here and there on the drive home from the "find." And then I let my daughter help me cook dinner without once getting impatient with her.

I always thought my liver or my lungs would be the first to go. Never did I think it would be my boobs!

Anyway, I didn't have many options in the way of venting, so I thought I'd shoot something out on the neglected blog. Posting via Facebook seems to be a little too much like broadcasting to an audience I know in order to get sympathy. Posting here has always felt more like a private diary published for people who give a shit enough to check it once in a while.

I am hoping this turns out OK, and odds are that it is nothing. Like I said, this is not my first rodeo. Before I had kids I had a run-in with a lump in the other boob, and it turned out to be nothing. But being that this is a whole new set of doctors from the ones I had then, and ones who seem even more panicky than the first set, I think I might have to see this through, and thoroughly.

Next Tuesday, I have a date with a boob-squishing machine!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Sigh

I need to blog more. So much going on. It's funny like that. The more you have to talk about, the less time you have to talk about it!

One of the things that I have the least control over is my dad. He has recently retired, and now he has fallen into depression. Not a good time for me! But I have been calling him daily and inventing ways for him to be useful.

I'm hoping he doesn't *really* want me to go to the RV show. SIGH.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Truths in my life

I am broke.

I love my future husband.

Snow is better when it is not so cold out.

I wish I could afford to put shade plants all the way around my house.

Steelers suck. Pens, not so much.

Foreign cars cost too much to repair.

Good food is a luxury sometimes.

There is no such thing as an honest plumber.

I hope Tom doesn't die.


That is all.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Turmoil

I am going to get married. Again.

About a month ago, Liam and I got engaged. It wasn't the traditional surprise, down-on-one-knee episode. We were talking about related stuff, and it just came up, and we agreed.

I think I caught Liam off guard. He mentioned to me that he didn't think I was the slightest bit interested in ever marrying again. And… I wasn't. And I'm not.

But the facts are, Liam is one fucking hell of a guy, and if I pass this up, I will never EVER get this wonderful of a man in my lifetime EVER again. I know this. This is a fact. If I could even begin to explain the hurt we've been through together (not because of each other) and the challenges we have faced (we have four children and three custody orders to contend with), it would take forever to type it all out.

We suffered through a lot of shit, side by side. And we've come out on the other side(s). Our evenings are no longer consumed with who's lawyer said what, who gets what kids tomorrow, when the next court date is. It's over, and it's all been over for a while, and we have been enjoying life, as it is, for the most part, without conflicts completely out of our control.

We have been talking about moving in together, and at one point, Liam mentioned he thought it would be best if we were married if that were to happen. In hindsight, I think that was the first time I was a little bit taken aback regarding any discussion we would have about our relationship.

At the time I balked, but I thought about it a lot, and weighed so many fucking things it was ridiculous. And so there we went, getting all engaged en'at.

But now we are getting into sticky stuff that I had no idea would be sticky. I didn't plan to take his last name. I don't want one, single, joint bank account. I don't want to give up my bedroom and sleep in the living room.

He is reluctant to sell the house that a peripheral relative gave him to settle his divorce. He doesn't want to talk about a timeline for moving forward. He doesn't seem eager to put a ring on my finger.

I think…. and this is just off the top of my head… I will remain committed to the idea of it all, but for my sanity's sake, I'm going to have to put it all out of my mind. Worry less about when it's all going to happen, why it's going to happen.

Disengage.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Madly, truly

OK.

I haven't written in a long time, mostly because of summer and the opportunity to spend more time with my kids.

As the seasons have changed, I think I've gotten more and more down about the weather. Which is weird, because I prepared myself for this and planned all kinds of indoor projects. Mostly stuff leftover from last year, but a few new things.

Transition is tough for me, and I'm afraid I have a lot more of it in my life than I expected. The kids get home and want to go outside and whine because it's too dark. At work I went through a big redesign that seems like it is never going to end. I had to reconnect with my lawyer recently because of custody crap. And I discovered Joe is looking for a house in my school district, which means there's not a whole lot of leg room for me to argue for custody when Jacob starts school. I know he's doing it for this purpose. It's going to be worse than I thought, the coming years.

This summer has been a great one, though. I wish I could make it carry over to the fall.

I was hoping to get off the Zoloft over the summer, but it never seemed like the right time. And feeling so depressed now, I know I can't do it. Not now. It's not that i'm not happy. I have plenty to be happy about.

But I'm UNhappy.

I fucking hate feeling like this.


There was one day over the summer, when Liam and I were on our way to a wedding of a friend... we were late getting there... we took the wrong exit and overshot our destination by miles... and by the time we got there, the wedding was over.... I was so pissed at him about it... LIVID... we had been dating about a year and a half... it was the first time we had both been dressed up for an event... and we missed it... i was beyond livid....

I think about this day often. It was the day I fell madly in love with him.

Which changed my life so much. But ugh... to plan a future, to talk, to chat, to plot.... the rest of my life... the rest of our lives....

I want to slow down. I want to hurry and up and get going with it. I want to miss him. I want to be with him. I want to talk about my feelings and I want to forget I have feelings. I want to believe in everything and I want to realize the reality of it all.



I was so idealistic as a youth, and it did nothing but hurt me. Is it ironic that I try to conjure that up now? When it really could hurt me most?

I REALLY don't think that Liam would (or could) hurt me at this point. But we are at a stage/age in our lives, and with kids that are begging to be siblings, and it is hard to decide and harder to decide what it is that we should be deciding. So very much to consider.

I want to take it slow. And get on with it already.