I have had a severe case of the "unable-tos." Been crippling myself, hindering writing this blog, because . . . I was afraid of what people might think.
Seriously? After all the crap I have written here I am NOW worried? Sigh. I am annoying, letting my insecurities run amok. The guilt, embedded down there, still tells me that James' disabilities are my fault. Even when I feel up-beat and positive, I still think I am not doing all that I should for him. Again, ANNOYING. The kid is 24/7, who could?
On one hand we hear, mom/dad put yourself first, you cannot take care of your child if you don't take care of yourself. Then the next day I am "tsked" because I did not fully set up our son's new iPad over the weekend. So we took time off! There were major, community-wide yard sales and we had a blast, wandering around and scoring some bargains. We felt "normal," or as normal as it gets for us. Still, I felt pangs for not working on his communication app. I guess guilt is unavoidable for every parent, across the board. My special brand includes the times I like to pretend I am normal and that James is normal and that we can do normal things. Envy? I guess I have that too, I just don't think about it (or, more likely, skip right to feeling inadequate because it really is my fault).
We went to a family gathering, serious but not somber, for the unveiling of the tombstone for a dear friend of James' grandmother. It was in a hotel, very fancy. There were speeches. Everyone was dressed up. And James, well . . . according to everyone, James was wonderful and well-behaved. The irony of this is, I was utterly exhausted afterwards. James was "good" because he was on a VERY short leash. I watched him like a hawk as I calmly and quietly talked him through the entire event. No James, no jumping. Feet off the couch. Do not throw that pillow. Mind you, I aborted all before he actually DID any of these things. No we can't watch movies right now. We'll get more orange juice soon. No, don't take off your shoes. At one point I was actually cradling all 75-odd pounds in my arms like a baby. Of course he was charming, giving me hugs and kisses, but I knew he was trying to get his way. While James IS unbelievably sweet, he also knows how to work it. So, in the end, James was thought of as a good boy and I smiled and thanked everyone. Plagued with guilt because he wasn't really - figuratively, I sat on him the entire day - and I was pretending he was. Then again, his listening and attention was amazing, paranormal in fact! In the end, I guess I can say that James
was pretty great that day and, well, so was I damn it. We just won't be attending any events that call for normalcy in the near future - at least not those that occur on a weekday when Dad can't attend!
