I think for most people, life has been a lot the past 2 years. I am freaking exhausted and we just have to swing from crisis to crisis, while continuing to go to work, interact with a public (at work) that may or may not believe in the pandemic, help kids navigate growth and learning, and somehow keep those kids fed on a daily basis. I have a work event on Saturday that will lead me smiling and interacting with people throughout the day, while I also know and love two people currently covid-positive, in the hospital, and on a ventilator. M asked me earlier this week if I was compartmentalizing everything and I replied, I have to in order to keep plowing through the day of meetings, tours, events, kid schedules and the hamster wheel of normal life, during not normal times. I don’t have time to process.

Alphabet Kid is overall, doing pretty good. Middle School has been good for him, and his teachers seem to love him. His prescription cocktail seems to be right on point, and the kid takes 8 pills a day, not including vitamins and melatonin, with no issues. Last week at 7am before he jumped on the bus, I casually said to him, ‘bubbie, don’t forget to take your pills” and he stopped, looked at me and said, “mom, can you not call them pills but call them my medicine, because people might think pills are something bad, and these are good for me.” WOW. This kid has definitely matured over the last year. He definitely has moments of aggression and losing control, but he is faster in recovering and apologizing for his behavior. Two weeks ago, he had a major explosion because T was late in picking him up and the boy gets anxious when someone is not on time (totally gets that from me). Plus, he was hangry because she was late and he didn’t want our dinner. Cue total meltdown in my front yard when T finally arrived (45 minutes late). Screaming, pushed me into the front door, melting down over food choices and lost of control and yes, it freaked us all out. We have some serious PTSD from his explosions and violence. The good and bad about maturity is he can start to process the aftermath and realize his cause and affect on our family. Thus, the next couple of days he internalized the episode. This happened on a Thursday night. Monday afternoon, I get a call from school out of the blue, and it’s the social worker. *This call came out of no where and I lost my shit when I hung up the phone.*

She proceeds to tell me that Alpha Kid paid her a visit, and told her that he was having thoughts of killing himself because he doesn’t like when he hurts his family, and maybe he needs to just go away. SO MUCH TO PROCESS THERE. She tells me they had a good conversation and she would be touching base with him throughout the week to make sure he was okay. He reached out. He vocalized a scary thought. And he knew it was scary and was mature enough to talk about it. I was so proud. And scared. I sent M a text at work explaining what happened, and then proceeded to melt onto the bathroom floor in sobs. She left work early (I am so glad Monday’s are my day off) and just held me while I cried. Then we both picked up Alpha Kid from school and told him how proud we were that he talked about his scary thoughts and he did the best thing he could.

And then, he was fine. That is the rollercoaster of bipolar. Moments of manic, depression, black holes, and then the complete opposite in the same day. Exhausting.

And scary.

All while this is happening, little sister is her own bundle of adorable hot mess. I adore my children more than anything or anyone on this planet, but these kids, both of them, are hard. She struggles with peer relationships, learning/processing, anxiety, perfectionism, co-dependency and some self-hatred. At 6. Not going to lie that I often think….what have we done wrong? We try to forge independence. We tell our kids that they are unique, strong, smart, brave. Is it genetics? Is it environment? Both? (this is the correct answer) We have so much crazy in our house…and I can stay that because I have my own anxious box of crazy. Even our dog is on prozac.

Alphabet Kid has an amazing team. One of the best Child Psychiatrists in the metro. An amazing therapist who specializes in boys with ADHD. One of the best pediatricians in the city, who is not allowed to retire. A special education resource teacher who spends 3 hours a week one-on-one with him. A school pysch (at school) who would do anything for him.

It is now time to create a team for Little Sister. I currently have 6 tabs open on my laptop for child psychologists in the city that are considered the best. I use my ex a lot for resources, and she is a great team member, even for Little Sister. We paid out of pocket ($850) last summer to have her evaluated for a learning disability and she definitely has textbook dyslexia as well as some processing and sensory issues at play. We met with the school team in the fall to establish a paper-train because she will eventually need some type of special education plan. It’s too early due to their curriculum but they KNOW me, and how I will advocate for her. She is getting pull-out services almost daily for reading and sight words, which automatically places her on an at-risk list….which in my opinion, is a great thing. Yay for public Title 1 services. I see IEPs and 504s as a building block, not a stigma or hurdle.

But, first, child psychologists. This is my current frustration with mental health services in this country. Even according to T, if they are good, they don’t accept insurance. Mental health services shouldn’t be a privilege. And they are so damn expensive. $300-500 for an initial consultation and plan. $140-175 per 50 min session. Out-of-network. Not to mention finding someone with openings for a new patient. Thankful work is calm and quiet today so I can research, contact possibilities and move forward. She needs help. She had a total meltdown on the way to school today and I had to park and walk her to the entrance when we usually do car drop off. Drop and roll. She told me when didn’t want to go to school anymore and wanted to tear all of the hair out of her head. This is not normal.

But, what is normal, because anxious and overwhelmed feels kind of normal now.

The last few weeks have been one chaotic schedule after another. In my previous post, I mentioned Little Sis’ evaluation summary meeting. I was a week off. We were both ready for the meeting, and it was the next Friday. This sometimes happens when our daily and weekly schedules are completely different with our zany work schedules that can completely vary, back to school meetings, another flag football season that started and is 3 days a week, casual days at school, verses normal uniform days at school, or the two days a week (that changes every other week) where Alpha Kid has to wear not a uniform, and not casual clothes, but a specific middle school gym uniform. My paper planner is now back to color coded and highlighted, with each color having meaning, assigned to a family member. Labor Day weekend? I worked on Saturday and had a 2hour in-person meeting in a small room with 9 other people. Meghan worked all day Sunday. What pandemic? ha. We were all off on Monday and it turned into a shit show because we are not all used to spending the day together. The kids get overstimulated, I feel the need to do SOMETHING, something fun and cool because we are never together and then the overstimulation gets worse. Maybe one day I will learn?

A question was posed about our marriage. There are days and weeks when it is great. We survived (are surviving?) a truly stressful time while both working out of the house during the pandemic. Neither of us ever got sick and we had strict protocols for work that we personally created and carried through, because our work environments in the midwest dealt with customers/visitors and co-workers who didn’t believe it was a thing. Both of us had to deal with anti-maskers and anti-vaxx’ers at work. But, we kept on working and dealt with the emotional exhaustion. Other weeks and days had us barely talking. Exhaustion and running on fumes is a real thing when parenting two needy kids, intense work environments and rarely seeing each other. It is really hard and thrown in mental health issues on both of our parts, and it’s like watching a tennis ball being lobbed back and forth across a net and trying to not get whip lash. It isn’t perfect, or even ideal, but we keep working.

As I mentioned before, we had Little Sis’ meeting about her scoring and results through a private testing and evaluation we hired this summer for dyslexia and any learning disability red flags. I knew there was something so we took a leap and paid for the eval. I was 7 days off, but we did have it last Friday. And I was dead one. We have a 20 page report that is so detailed and impressive that I have yet to read and fully process it all but in short hand, she has a language and literacy disability, and more specifically dyslexia with a phonological deficit. Massive sigh to have it on paper, literally signed off and paid for, to move forward. The good is we know. We can continue to be proactive to help our kids catch up with their peers. Our school is amazing, once you have that paperwork signed off on and paid for. Our school is just too small to be able to keep up with testing so doing it on our own, I knew her interventions would be sped up. And sped up indeed.

I received a formal cover letter and summary from the speech path and pysch who tested her yesterday around 10am. I had an insane morning at work, so I created an email during my lunch containing the cover letter and 20 page document with a summary of Little Sis, a request to form a committee/team in order to start her IEP and services. I thought I might hear back on Friday, (this was Wednesday) but they legally have 2 weeks in order to respond to my request. I received a reply from the head of the Special Education department within 10 minutes, with an email that was lovely—“Hi Jennifer, so good to hear from you and I can’t believe your daughter is already of age for school! Thank you for the report and documentation. You will be receiving a signature page soon from B (the coordinator for our elem school) to start the process, and tell Alpha Kid Hi!” They know me. Little Sis attended some IEP meetings as an infant and toddler. They know I don’t mess around, but they also know I wouldn’t reach out unless needed because I respect their time and talents. Within 5 minutes of the first email response from the department, I had already received and signed the electronic signature page to start the IEP process for Little Sis. 5 minutes later, she emailed back, thanked for my signature and asked about preference for in-person or virtual while she assembled the team. No joke….within 20 minutes of school receiving any type of notification or request about a “new” student into the SpED system, we had a team forming. This is another reason I adore our school.

….and then there are two. I somehow will soon have two kids with an IEP. I’m a bit overwhelmed with what this means, as any parents with one kid with an IEP knows and understands. But I am SO THANKFUL that she will soon start to receive one-on-one reading and learning intervention. The kids will be alright. Alpha Kid is now in 6th grade and also started his IEP in 1st grade. And, it has made a massive difference in both his learning, adaptation and resilience. I posted this on my personal facebook page yesterday and I think it speaks to the power of early intervention and creating a supportive environment. This is the same kid who was inpatient 4 years ago.

[Alpha Kid] struggles a lot as a neuroatypical kid with a learning disability—double struggle with lots of medical invention, medication and therapy! School is usually hard because he hates to read and his anxiety has been in overdrive balancing growing up and transitioning to middle school during a pandemic. I was so scared about a rigorous middle school IB program and if he could adjust. He tells me nothing. At all. If I wouldn’t attend school meetings and look things up online, I wouldn’t even know his teachers names, and haven’t seen one assignment. If I ask him, everything is fine and he gives me a tween sigh to leave him alone.

Last night a fellow 6th gr mom posted on our private group about a teacher and what other kids think about him and his assignments. I had zero insight, so this morning at 6:50, I asked [Alpha Kid] while waiting for the bus. And he agreed that he is the most strict but he really likes him. THEN, then he adds that his teacher made him anxious when calling on him, so [kid] came up with a color card system (green-he knows the answer, yellow—he isn’t sure, red—no idea) and took his idea to the social worker, who set up a meeting with this teacher and they implemented this accommodation WITHOUT ANY PARENT or SPED TEACHER INVOLVEMENT. I could not be more proud of my son for learning about being an advocate for even yourself, and figuring out a way to make this hour a bit easier each day. I was blown away, gave him a high-five and he jumped on the bus. And I checked his grades for this specific class and he has all 7s and 8s (1-8 is an IB grading system) when he is usually struggling. What a way to head into a Wednesday. This kid….he has stressed us out, given us headaches and it’s still a learning process, but I think he might just be a-okay. And, AND, he also scored a touchdown in his football game on Saturday. This kid.

We are going through life, sometimes with grace and sometimes with sweat and tears, but we are doing it, two by two.

Most people who know me, know I am a Broadway nerd. Old school, new school. Popular, obscure. I know most of it. It’s honestly one of my only hobbies and the thing I miss most during covid. A canceled trip to NYC to see some shows. Multiple touring productions canceled and tickets refunded. I miss the escape of the theater. One of my favorite restorative (pandemic) tasks is doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, listening to my Broadway station on shuffle, and I can usually sing every song that pops up. It’s restorative because it’s my escape now. Everything around me washes away for a bit while I belt out showtunes in my kitchen. It doesn’t phase my kids because they know I am in my space. Every now and then I am told I’m too loud, too good, questioned how do I hit those notes and asked to turn down the volume so they can hear their show. It’s my sanctuary where I can be my true self and find myself again, after feeling lost and unsure of the millions of choices that present themselves daily. There have been many days during the pandemic that even the question of, what’s for dinner, has brought me to tears. It’s one decision after another of what feels like how to keep my kids alive, from nourishment to mask brand. Then a song like ‘You Will be Found’ pops up on my station, my eyes well up with tears and I put one foot in front of each other to keep on keeping on. I think we all want to be found and some/most(?) are feeling very isolated and lonely. Our lives, I’m confident, will now be, before and after covid. A defining moment of not only society and individuals, but also development. I have friends and family that I no longer respect because of how they presented themselves during a public health crisis and their personal freedom was seemingly more important than my kids, or any kids. Fuck that. When did public health become a personal freedom? The irony and ignorance is incredible. “I hope you’re happy, now that you’re choosing this. I hope you get it and you don’t live to regret it.” How did we get there?

Then, “One Day More” pops up on my station and reminds me that history does repeat itself. And we move on to the next day, next decision.

Somehow, tomorrow is September.

Wasn’t yesterday May? What happened to the summer? Life feels like the tortoise AND the hare during covid. Days are long and exhausting, but it’s all going by in a blur. I ended my last post right before our much needed moms trip at the beginning of May, and it was 4 glorious days and nights in Portland, OR. I went to my first dispensary and for a day or two, I didn’t have any anxiety. M said it was refreshing to see me so carefree and not on edge. Not reading, researching, intaking information of some kind to stay on top of life and predict the next turn. I’ve always had high functioning anxiety but it was crippling this spring and summer.

“She Used to be Mine” has made me sob for over a year because I feel like I have been losing myself in work and motherhood, in just making it to the other side. I nearly quit the job I love this summer because it was all too much. I was puking daily from the stress and anxiety. Crying daily–sometimes multiple times a day. Still masked, and meeting people from all over the country at work who acted like it was all over, all while I watched this little variant named Delta. My kids were masked every single day of the summer because they were either in school or a camp. We don’t really “get to summer” like most….it is hard for me to take off any time because I have zero coverage. I took off 3 days this entire summer and one was because M got hurt at work. So, I hurled myself into therapy and a new medication when I felt like I was taking too much Xanax, on top of CBD. I was spiraling down a rabbit hole, disconnecting myself from others because I was too exhausted to barely breathe. I was so negative, and almost looking for a fight even though that was even more exhausting. I also started painful physical therapy this summer for my ridiculous pelvic floor and scar tissue that 3 reproductive surgeries in 9 years left me with, in horrible pain that I thought was a hernia. Nope, just nerve issues and scar tissue trauma. So, as my new therapist constantly reminded me….focus on what you can control. My anxiety and my physical pain were the focus for me this summer.

The kids attended 6 weeks of our summer semester and hated nearly every day. They like being home. They like being hermits, engulfed in netflix or the Xbox, and an open diner and pantry 24/7. Why wouldn’t they? It’s safe, and both of my kids are anxious. Our household is like a freaking pharmacy, with a side of emotional eating. Over the July 4th holiday, we each took one kid on a special long weekend trip where they could have our undivided attention and it was magical for both kids. I missed the other half of my family, but I honestly didn’t want to come back home. I deleted my work email from my phone and wasn’t tempted once to check it.

The only time the kids swam in a pool this summer was during a pool camp in August. Little Sis took a weekly dance class and it was the constant highlight of her week. Alpha Kid didn’t do a summer sport because school and camps were enough for the kid who doesn’t like to be overprogrammed. Somehow during all of this, Alpha Kid, Chunk to long-time readers, started middle school. It’s shocking actually. A new building and staff that I don’t know at all aside from the SpEd staff and social worker that I met in the spring during a transition meeting. He has 9 subject teachers that I don’t know. Hardly at all. As in, I could pass by 8 of them on the street and not know my kid interacts with them daily. It’s an odd feeling. His homeroom teacher from this summer requested him again for the fall, so she is the one person I would recognize and with Alpha Kid, no news is good news, so we are entering week 3 and I haven’t heard a peep. He has a locker this fall, and M found a special sensory lock so he doesn’t get overly frustrated with combinations and small errors. He was supposed to start his 3rd language this year but I got it removed from his curriculum so that he can focus on English and French, and have extra intervention hours with his SpEd instructor during the 3rd language blocks. It’s basically extra tutoring/homework help 2-3 hours a week, which is fantastic all around. So far so good.

This summer, we had Little Sis tested by an outside speech path and psychologist for a learning disability, more specifically dyslexia, and anything else that might be a red flag. Over 2 sessions, and $900, she was tested for almost 6 hours. We have our feedback appointment via Zoom this Friday to find out more about our little. I hope the testing proves to be informative, because I am a firm believer that early intervention and proactive resources is the best scenario for special kids. And in my gut, I feel like I have two of them. I adore them, but they are hard kids. Draining and exhausting. Both can hyper-focus on something they love, but don’t ask them to focus on a task that doesn’t interest them.

Alpha Kid started another season of flag football last week, to his wanting, because he is finally on a team with school friends, but Sunday morning was a massive pushback of regret and anger. I can’t win sometimes with this kid. Little Sis’ dance school released their fall schedule yesterday, so that starts in 2 weeks. She is still doing Girl Scouts, which is usually only once a month, so not a huge time commitment and the group tends to meet on Sunday when I don’t work so their top selling cookie kid can attend. One big loss in our lives during covid was Alpha Kid’s match with Big Brothers. His match faced some life changes and faded into the pandemic. We had an interview with the Org 2 weeks ago, and they encouraged us to reapply to be matched again. It was a great match, nearly 2 years, but people change, especially during a world wide pandemic. We have another interview in 3 weeks to complete the process and I hope he is matched again sometime this fall or winter.

So….here we are. “525,000 moments so dear. How do you measure, measure a year?” This September is going to be so much worse than last September. And we didn’t have to be here. Exhausting. September starts TOMORROW. It’s getting darker earlier and earlier each night, and we are now getting weekly covid reports from school about positive cases and quarantine numbers. So far, it’s okay….we have 3 buildings and about 1400 kids, and have 5 positive cases….1 in each of my kid’s buildings, 3 in the building we don’t attend. Local burb schools have 100s….so, the “okay” is subjective. Nurses contract trace, our school is super proactive about masking and no shared spaces except outside playground equipment, so, I am hopeful but realistic. They took a week long Zoo camp in August and after 2 days, it was canceled due to 2 positive kids (siblings). So, realistic.

“People always say that life is full of choices; no one ever mentions fear.”

Fear is exhausting: hopefully we all will be found, one way or another.

A reader mentioned our chaotic schedule and how do I juggle it all. I will give you an idea of our life this week.

Sunday: M at work from 10am-6:30pm. Me home with the kids and I spend each Sunday cleaning, doing laundry, making to-do lists for the week and managing our chaotic children. (one Sunday a month, E has Girl Scouts)

Monday: Two weeks ago, my kids went back to school on Mondays. Mondays are my day off, so for 2 days, I have had total peace and quiet at home, which allows me to organize, clean, relax, watch some of my shows and this now feels like a complete luxury between 8am and 2:45pm. Pick up kids at 3pm, M home around 7pm from work. This Tuesday was our anniversary, so we had a LATE family dinner of filets, roasted potatoes, corn on cob, asparagus and a tuxedo cake at 8pm–kids ate dinner in their pjs and went immediate to bed with full bellies. Then we ate our cake, drank some Prosecco in bed and settled in.

Tuesday: Our 9th anniversary together. Surreal. I took the kids to school at 7:45am, got to work at 8am. M was home until Noon and then she went to work for her shift from 12:30-9:30pm. (hence Monday night family dinner) I left work at 2:45pm to pick up the kids at 3pm. They got screen time and I worked from home. Usually Alpha kid has Tuesday night flag football practice, but thankfully last week was the final week, so Tiff picked him up at 5:30pm for their days together.

Wednesday: Little sis and I left the house at 8am to go to my work site, complete with her remote school supplies and computer so she could do class while I work. At 9am, we had a work issue and she got to see a real life fire truck and 5 fire fighters (no issue, just alarm issues) and we RAN across the site to log her in at 9:30 for her live classes. I constantly had people in and out of my office while she did class, but all my board and volunteers are amazing with my kids and love seeing them on site. (THANKFULLY, because we couldn’t do this without it) I then has Alpha Kid’s annual IEP meeting and recent evaluation recap at 12:30, so we ran home so that I could do that with some privacy and Little Sis could be home for my 2 hour online meeting. M got home at 7pm from her work shift.

Thursday: 7:30am Psychiatrist appt online for Alpha Kid. He was with Tiff, so they had the telehealth appt in her car outside of his school. Since I was still online, M took Little Sis to school and once the appt was over around 8:15, I jumped into my car for work with a stop at the grocery store before because we were having someone over for dinner last night so she could pick up their suitcases, scooters, meds, everything that I packed for their 4 days with her (more on that in a bit). I then had to leave work at 2:45pm and run to school to pick up Little Sis. Saw Tiff in line to get Alpha Kid, so I was so excited to give him a hug because Little Sis and I ran back to my work site to get the main room ready for a community yoga class. M had to leave work early due to a back injury and intake appointment. Little Sis and I left work at 5:15pm to head home and start packing myself. Sigh. Dinner with Little Sis’ godmother and pseudo-grandmother to the kids who is taking care of then Friday after school to Wednesday before school. I explained all of my notes, schedules, etc to her and she left at 8:30pm. I kept packing, folding laundry and trying to not have a panic attack about leaving my kids and our chaotic schedule that someone else is in charge of.

Friday: Little Sis had a 8:15am dentist appt, so M took her to that, while I took our neurotic dog to the Vet to be boarded until next Wednesday. Complete with her nasty blanket that she sleeps with, her meds, her kong and peanut butter, and our dog is as high maintenance as our kids. Then I rushed to work, where I will be here until Noon. I have everything wrapped up to go, volunteer coverage for tomorrow since I work every Saturday, my auto-reply turning on at Noon and I am ready for a break. I will head home, finish packing, kiss my wife and we will leave for the airport soon. We have both been fully vax’ed since the middle of March, wear masks everywhere and need this break. We are flying to a city with strict covid-protocols, staying in a hotel with amazing protocols, and feel pretty good about the trip, aside from leaving our kids and the possibility of dying between now and there. LOL

That is one week. And pretty normal around here. Our life is insane, especially with M’s shift schedule and my work schedule that changes regularly due to community events, meetings, etc. But, I could not have survived this ear without an incredible work environment. My kids are with me at work A LOT, and are completely welcome. They help out at events, they tag along to city hall to pick up stuff, my board and volunteers know them well and often spoiled them with presents and snacks. I do keep a paper planner with me AT ALL TIMES, so I carry a large mom-size bag that accommodate that along with all of my other crap. I also am very much a high-functioning anxious, type A control freak, so I can juggle everything and somehow juggle the schedules of my own family, my ex, my volunteers and intense work commitments, pretty much to memory. I can’t remember jack about other stuff because I joke that my brain is full of schedules. I almost on the daily remind both my wife and my ex-wife of some appointment, need, schedule, etc and this is definitely a strength of my severe anxiety, perfectionism and strong desire to people please. This week is also Teacher Appreciation week, so I had the kids make cards, we gifted gift cards, I emailed my gratitude, etc and this is my strength on a Gallop evaluation. 🙂

But, this evening, we will be doubled mask on an airplane and tonight we will got to sleep in a nice quiet room, with no schedule, so one yelling at me, or barking at me, or needing something. We will be gone until Tuesday night, and as Tiff’s wife reminded me, the kids will be alive and everything can be dealt with when we returned. Ii have already cried once today, taken my CBD and Xanax, but we can do this. And hopefully enjoy the time away, the pacific northwest air, quality time with my best friend a few facetime calls with our amazing kids.

Next week, I will try to post about his IEP meeting because we have some big changes coming ahead of us as he moves to the middle school. Eek.

The past month has been a complete blur. Therapy appointments, psychiatrist appointments, an IQ test by an outside psychologist for his school IEP, a IEP update meeting before his annual meeting next week, work, school–both in-person and remote, lots of work events, flag football, so much chaos of schedule, even during a pandemic. We are slowly getting back to “normal” around here which means the kids are in school more than they are not. My work responsibilities and schedule are very thankful for the time to you know, actually work. Last week we started “phase 3” at school which is 4 in-person days. Mon/Tues, Thurs/Fri AT school and Wednesday at home for remote live classes. And, last week kicked my kid’s asses. Having 4 days out of the house at 7:45, in uniform and no downtime lead to some attitude and exhaustion by the weekend. That said, last week was the first week in more than a year, that I was AT WORK 5 days (M has been the entire pandemic) because little sis came to work with me on Wednesday and I was equally exhausted. I forgot how hard it is to get shit done around the house when you aren’t there. Laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, cleaning, yardwork….regular home life. We had been in the rat race so long that I honestly forgot. And last week was a wake up call when my house looked like a bomb went off by Sunday morning. In-person school is so good for Alpha Kid because he can’t divide his attention between live classes, Spotify and gaming.

A sign of the normalizing of times as vaccinations and mandates start to be common place. We had a outdoor playdate with a group of SPED boys and every single parent was fully vaccinated. It was so nice. It was outdoors, and masked, but felt restorative. Two weeks ago, Alpha kid went to his therapist office for the first time in forever and it was so nice to have that space for him. He seemed lighter when we left and little sis and I played outside for that time. He goes again tomorrow and I am honestly starting to see some maturity and change happening which is good because I somehow enrolled my baby boy this morning in middle school. How thee holy hell did that just happen? In less than two months, he will be on a new campus in the middle of our urban city (walking distance from M’s work) and I get to learn new teachers, new building, new protocols/expectations, SPED teachers and resource rooms, and I think I am more nervous than Alpha kid. Locker organization. Homework skills and study habits. Things that are normal transitions for most kids will be an ordeal for Alpha Kid. His IEP meeting next week will be long. And detailed. And I have to study typical middle school interventions prior to the meeting. Just yesterday, I found out that kids with an IEP do not have to take a 3rd language. Like, this is an important piece of information that I found out from another parent. Our school is a language immersion academy so Alpha kid is already fluent in two languages. But in middle school, they add a 3rd and I think I may pull him from it so that he can have an hour of tutoring and intervention daily in English reading/math and other areas of need. I am constantly in awe of him that he struggles with comprehension and took speech therapy for his early years in the county infant and toddler services, and now the kid rattles off an entire conversation in French with his teachers.

Today Alpha kid has starts his annual state standardized testing and if he took anything from my prep talk and advise, I hope it is SLOW THE FUCK DOWN. His brain speeds through life, words, impulses, and focus will probably never be his strength. Nor will care. He could care less how he scores. About how that impacts his learning, record or general growth chart. Nope. Life is a race and he needs to win and be first. *head slap* I was similar as a kid, but I was able to race to the finish while caring and scoring high. I have learned so much about my own learning and processing through parenting Alpha Kid. I was the person who lettered all 4 years in academics and graduated with a 4.3 GPA with a year of college credit under my belt while I applied to college, and I pray to sweet baby Jesus that this kid stays average, passes, stays in school. He just doesn’t care. It isn’t a priority, a measure of his self-worth or desire. We are so much alike and so very different. He gets angry at me when I try to help or give advise, and I gently remind him that he is lucky to have parents who care. Not all kids do.

At his psychiatrist appointment last month, it was discussed that we might be changing up his stimulant medication this summer. He is pretty much at the max dosage and it isn’t impacting him as much as it used to. He’s been on it for years so I’m not shocked, but I am also scared about taking him off to find something else. Granted, this is only one out of four medications, but it’s the one he has been on the longest. Have I mentioned before that I don’t do well with change? Overall, he is doing pretty well. He does best with routine, structure and keeping busy. Downtime is when he falls down the rabbit hole. He currently has flag football practice on Tuesday evenings, after we partake in taco Tuesday, kickball club after school on Thursdays when he gets to walk with friends to a local park to meet up with some parents for an unofficial but super fun school activity, and football games on Saturday mornings. I have been to one game—downfall of my job and working every Saturday. Football is almost over for the season and he doesn’t want to play summer ball. He will have school FIVE days a week starting June 16, with summer camps before and after the six weeks of summer semester (our school is year around due to the language component) and he and I will be taking a long weekend trip, just the two of us, over the July 4 weekend. So, besides weekends, he will only have about 8 days unplanned the entire summer. Plus, I’m going to make him start an instrument this summer with private lessons and honestly, I’m the arts mom to Tiff’s sports mom, and I think learning an instrument is so important to development. He might also have private tutoring sessions this summer to really get him ready for middle school in the fall with the learning loss/focus over the last year. So, busy he will be.

Somehow, he is growing into a kid who is firmly into tween status and likes his space, but still gives me morning hugs and wants me to tuck him in at night.

I will take it.

I keep telling myself I need to remain in this space as this year has been “historic” and I need the push to process through the past year. It’s been one year since we started true online learning with live classes as our school rushed to formulate a plan for the spring and set up google classrooms during spring break to immediately start daily live classes in all subjects. I have been in awe of our little school. Alphabet Kid was nearing the end of his 4th grade year and honestly, it was a good school year. He won a student of the month, he was thriving in his little community and he was pretty stable. He was starting to deal with anxiety in February and early March, but I truly believe he could sense that in me. I was watching the world in December and January and I could feel the world shifting. I study history for a profession. I am well aware of global “historic” pandemics and what that did to society. We stocked up on supplies and food, Meghan is good at just trusting my anxiety in those times, in February and people around me thought me mad. I tend to be a little crazy, so I just let them wonder why I set up shelving of can goods (something we don’t normally buy), toilet paper, meat in the deep freezer, kids normal snacks and all of the cold/flu supplies I could find–which are still sitting on the top shelf, should we need them. I was set to take care of my family and make sure we didn’t truly need anything we couldn’t find. We were even stocked up on Clorox wipes and hand sanitizer as store shelves started being deserts of demand. These are the times when anxiety can be a asset if you are one who shifts into overdrive and being productive to cope.

I work at a historic landmark and everything shut down on March 12. I took home some files and my work computer, as I was told I would be home for 3 weeks, but I kind of knew it would be awhile. I can’t truly bring my work home like many. The kids and I would visit my site two times a week to make sure everything was okay and they are used to roaming around the historic buildings and acreage. March turned into April. Alpha kept logging into classes daily and I had to come up with activities and SOMETHING for little sister to do at age 4 to occupy the day. But, let’s be real that in 2020, she become a pro at Netflix and Disney+. I bought craft kits online, more coloring books, play-doh….anything to help. We made homemade lemonade for a science experiment, took virtual fieldtrips to museums around the country (it is my profession and love) and made it through day after day. M never stopped working and actually started working more away from home. We were so scared and had many crying sessions in 2020 talking about the what if’s as she worked in a major public epicenter of 2020. We bought UV phone scrubbers, had laundry baskets in the garage for her to strip after work, she was the first employee to wear a mask because I told her she had to, and we lived in a lot of fear. Wills, death, tears. Being an essential worker in 2020 and the loved one of an essential worker, actually in the public during a pandemic, is life-altering. No working from the house, ability to safely isolate and logging on daily in the comfort of your home. We planned for her death. Came up with a plan if I caught it from her. I am a planner, for good and bad. And I know my kids, especially Alpha, could sense all of this. I was lucky to be able to stay home because the kids were home. April turned into May. I was snacking and drinking too much to cope, much like the rest of the country. My kids were snacking all throughout the day and both were packing on the pounds. We are not nature-y people….when many were using the pandemic to distance outside and enjoy nature, we were watching movies, playing games, having dance parties and pretty much staying in our house and yard. I forced recreation time in our yard. I also allowed far much screen time but again, I think most were. This was the first time I allowed Alpha to actively play Xbox online with friends in order to connect and maintain friendships. Little sister was lonely and craving friends, and she only got me. There were really rough days and I cried a lot. I yelled at my kids and then we would hug it out. When they would complain, I would remind them of their bounty and privilege. And always fear that my wife would die to the pandemic. She is high-risk. She had two emergency infusions in the beginning of April to beef up her system before the country really shut down. I had to refill my Xanax, as I was tettering on the edge of insanity. I love my work. I work a lot. My kids have always been daycare and even afterschool kids, gone from the house from 7:45am to 5:30pm, and we were instantly stuck together while M went in and out of the house 5 days a week. It was a lot and a huge life adjustment for all of us.

May was a month of work meetings to figure out the county/state plan, looking for covid protocols for my site, and attending local and regional meetings for public spaces to figure it all out together. While I was home alone with the kids. Then, when I was told that I was marked an essential employee and I was returning and reopening to the public the first week in June, we had to shift our schedules to accommodate kids home 7 days a week. All of our camps were canceled and our year-round school maintained remote schooling, now for a new Kindergartener and a 5th grader, starting in mid-June. Since June, M and I have had exactly 5 days off together (Federal holidays) and a one week roadtrip that turned into a stressful shit show. 5 days. Only one weekend for that shit show trip. I get kind of jealous when people talk about their entire families stuck at home together because that was not our experience. We still don’t have 1 day off together each week because our work schedules are still staggered to accommodate the kids. We are both fully vaccinated, although have not changed our daily life one bit, and are taking a long weekend in May away from the kids to celebrate us and getting through the past year. We have earned it and will remain safe and diligent.

Alpha kid became obsessed with his Xbox and online friends, and I felt it was important because it was his lifeline to the outside world and being a kid. We maintained his regular telehealth appointments and therapy, and I was just pushing through each day. June turned into July and both kids were in daily remote school and we were both working fulltime away from the house. To say juggling all of that was stressful is an understatement. My employer was amazing and was able to take off 1 day/week for the kids, we hired a babysitter one day, Mondays are my typical days off anyway, M was home Thursday and Friday, we both worked Saturdays and she worked/s Sunday. Our life was, is, an orchestration of schedules that all centered around the noisy section of my kids. And they were good. Kids are resilient and they loved staying home all day, doing class and then extra screen time, using the kitchen as a constant supply post, getting packages in the mail as I would buy them games, activities and Xbox gift cards to keep them busy and bury my guilt of having them away from all friends and family. We were the people who didn’t go anywhere except work and curbside. Target was carside pick-up or delivery, and M would bring home food and supplies from work. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago in the same moment.

Then, in July, my grandma was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with terminal cancer and I popped that covid bubble. No way in hell would she pass without me spending time with her, so I masked up and visited the hospital and then her apartment in her luxury retirement village. (that was thankfully opened up to visitors the week prior) Time between her passing and the end of the year is a rush of memories and forgotten moments. I was constantly worried about losing my job due to budget cuts, and M was promoted. It is such a weird time when I look back at it. Little sis was learning French and breaking down daily because a language immersion Kindergarten should never be on a computer, and Alpha was maturing and logging into 6 live classes daily, independently, in a secluded office I created for him. Just last week, a year after he “moved” into that office space off the kitchen did he tell me he is tired of sitting in there and moved to the living room. I have been so impressed with him all year as he could have melted down from the stress, expectations or anxiety and he keeps chugging along. In September he won Student of the Month for Respect. HUGE. He was always the first kid logged in, would help students and teachers with tech issues, and constantly keep track of his schedule and assignments.

In the beginning of February, Kindergarteners were moved into the building 2 days a week for a hybrid schedule and the following week, Alpha kid walked into the halls nearly a year later. As we pulled up that first morning he said, “mom, this has been a really long two years.” I laughed because indeed, the last 11 months have felt like two years. We are supposed to hear this evening what April and May will look like, as we are still hybrid. M just picked up the kids from school as I sit at work, refreshing my email for that announcement.

AND IT JUST ARRIVED. NO JOKE.

Starting April 19, my kids will now be in school FOUR days a week. I might cry here alone at my desk. This is the same week that my CARES time (10 weeks) ends as I will have used 400 hours since last June to help cover my kid’s schedules. A combination of working from home, covering some in the evening hours and taking off Tues/Wed during the day for school. Talk about perfect timing. They will still be home on Wednesdays, but we are one step closer and I somehow maintained my job and salary this whole time. Their summer session starts June 16 and it is reported today that it will be 5 days a week. It feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Our school has been amazing in covid protocols. I feel 100% confident they will be completely safe and all of our teachers have been vaccinated. We are almost there.

And my kids will probably be pissed, and I guess that proves that we maintained their sanity, needs and wants during a very challenging pandemic.

I am a massive fan of the Time Hop app. Its gives short glimpses into the past as a reminder of what was and sometimes, how far you have come, or what you have survived. I post a lot, especially pictures, on my insta and fb mainly because of the timehop feature. My entire professional life (coming on 20 years…damn) has been in museums and archives….I love documentation, information, visuals, research; the past. I also, ironically, have a horrible memory so seeing these daily images and messages fills my soul. Most of the time, they are positive and fun but sometimes the memories are traumatic markers in time, which also need to be remembered, dissected and processed. I take it all. That was one of the reasons that I started blogging again because about a month ago, my timehop reminded me that it was one of the darkest days of my life three years ago when my little boy went from a “spirited” and hard kid to a certifiable and institutionalized child. A kid who caused serious trauma to our entire household–even the dog who is now neurotic and on prozac due to the heightened crazy and stress in our household. A kid who doesn’t remember any of that time period. None of it.

The second floor window screen is still cut and broken from when he tried to commit suicide at the age of 7. I keep it like that for a reason. I see it almost daily from our backyard and it reminds me in the good moments, that it can easily snap to the bad again. I am not a naïve person. I do not force the scary or the hard into the closet. I like to see it head on and be ready. I am a problem-solver and a care taker. I think that is one of the things that drew me to the two women I have deeply loved in my life. When I met both of them, even when I was only 19 for the first, they were broken. The main difference between my first marriage and my second, is that when I met M, we were both broken.

Usually, I fix the things.

I tend to excel when things are hard, when life is chaotic and busy. I don’t do well with downtime. I used to be able to read piles of books in solitude, to sit in the quiet; but that is no longer me. I can no longer sit still because something always seems to be more important for me to do, help, fix, etc. I think this is my definition of living on anxiety-filled egg shells. The only time I sit without 3 things going on around me is when my entire household is asleep and I watched my plethora of shows because I dive into characters, storylines: escapes. I am a loyal follower of even a tv show….just this week, The Grey’s theme song was on the radio and Alpha kid had heard it before but couldn’t place it. I told him it’s the song from one of my doctor shows, a show I have watched every single weekly episode for the last 17 years and his jaw dropped. He gasped and said, “did it start in black & white?” I laughed and wanted to smack his GenZ attitude because it was funny, but holy hell, he is right. That is a long damn time. I am loyal to my very core.

But, I digress. I think timehops are powerful because even when some forget, even the person living the life highlighted, it helps to draw forth those simple, good, complex and hard moments in time. It’s one reason I don’t live two lives–one on social media and one in reality. I just don’t understand that. But, that is my need, and my issue. This summer marks the 10 year anniversary of my 11+ year relationship ending; my first relationship, my first everything, coming to an abrupt end. I was talking about the possibility of a second child (Alpha kid was about 16 months and I had just stopped–very abruptly with zero planning or warning–breastfeeding due to H1N1), and she was suddenly looking for an escape. Funny enough, she found her escape, and I eventually found my second child. Life is funny like that. It does often work out the way it is supposed to. I am not religious, but I am spiritual and I believe there is often a life course that slowly unfolds before you.

10 years feels like a massive marker to me. Almost 10 years ago, I had MY breakdown. I am a completely different person now. Then, I was naive, weak, scared, literally filled with panic and compulsive thoughts. The summer of 2011, I added PTSD and SAD to my own previous alphabet soup of GAD, IBS, OCD. I was the mom who constantly imagined my child dying. Checking on him multiple times each night to make sure he was still breathing, still alive. I was a shell of me now, unable to walk into a room of people and cope. Even unable to board a flight with my toddler because I couldn’t control his possible death thousands of feet in the air. Public speaking and even family events caused panic attacks, puking and tears. I was a successful museum curator and I couldn’t stand at a podium. I came close that year to being institutionalized myself, but my driving force during that time period was an 18 month Alpha. (it was literally 2 months between us happy and making plans, and T meeting someone else to escape my crazy herself) Without him, I might not still be here because I was being shallowed up by a massive black hole of no control. It was the only time in my life that I prayed, and I had an out of body experience one night at my mom’s house–almost as if the sky opened up and it could either swallow me, or release me. I asked for its release. It was the only time I spent the night with my mom between me leaving for college at 17 and having a mental breakdown at age 31. She scooped me up from my shell, force fed me, took care of Alpha while I entered something beyond a depression– because my plans, my life, was suddenly not mine. I NEED control. I had none. My mom asked me to move in with her (she was also going through a divorce) that week, but I’m also fiercely independent and even in that week of horrible misery, I couldn’t. I owned my own house. I had a successful profession, an advanced degree. A child. I hadn’t lived “at home” since I was 17 and I need my space, my independence. A lot of anxiety is based in control, or lack there of. I am golden when I am in control. When I am not, the rabbit hole opens up. But, I made it through. Therapy saved my life and my therapist told me I did the hard work so quickly that even she was amazed at the whirlwind of near suicide and then thriving. I don’t do things half way.

I have known T for 21 years and nearly half of that time, we have been on separate but intertwined paths. It’s mindboggling to me when I think about it. And we are now where we are supposed to be. We both agree that Alpha is a kid who needs two homes, so that one can always be on a reprieve. Things happen the way they are supposed to. My timehops are mixed throughout the years of my life 1 and life 2, and I welcome all of the memories and reminders.

Almost 9 years ago, I found M. I truly think we find the people, who need us and who we need. We were both broken at the time but she couldn’t believe that I had so much independence and success, and I could be interested in her. After our second date, she told me she thought I was out of her league, I was too beautiful and put together (ha!) to be interested in her, and I thought I was not attractive or cool enough, with too much baggage….and, funny enough, she thought she would never hear from me again. After talking for 6 hours through dinner and coffee, and missing a movie at a fine arts theater (where we probably would have been the youngest people in the audience), I instantly knew I found another soulmate and I called her the next day for a second date. Our first date was on my grandma’s birthday, a woman who was the most important person in my life (aside from Alpha) and it felt like the universe brought her to me on that day for a reason. My grandma was my best friend, my constant parental unit who taught me everything that makes me, me–from broadway/film musicals, old school MGM icons, my first old fashioned, taking me from age 4 to touring broadway productions, museums, to fine art movies–at the same small fine art movie theater where M and I were supposed to have our first date. My life has a chartered path–I truly believe that. The soulmates that come into my life are destined.

My grandma passed away last summer and it was the hardest loss, aside from my children and wife, that I can imagine ever experiencing. Everyone in my family knew I would be the one to grieve the hardest, even more than her own children, because the bond we had was magical almost not of this earth. Everyone talked about it. My aunt called me mini-Joanne. Her own sister, a grandma herself, said what we have/had is rare. My step-mom, in probably one of the kindest things she has ever said to me in 36 years, said “I have been dreading this moment from the first time I saw the two of you together.” I was 5 when she had that thought. I am now 41. Again, we were two people, soulmates, who were meant to be together even though I made her a grandma at age 49 when my teenage parents got pregnant, and she helped to pick up the pieces and raise me. I had a perfectly manicured bedroom in her house. It was my room, and everyone knew it, even my own parents whom I was shuttled between in a custody agreement. The sophisticated, educated turned housewife/FBI wife (they literally have a club) who played bridge, traveled to Cuba at age 18, went to Frank Sinatra and Billy Holiday concerts, drank old fashioneds and Manhattan’s nightly in a happy hour at home before a formal dinner when my Grandpa got home from work and placed his badge and gun in a safe. I polished her silver (which I now own). As a little kid, stared in awe at her string of pearls that she would wear even to the grocery store. (I own those now as well) She taught me to make quiche and 1980s casseroles. Taught me to make a bed with “hotel” corners. She was my world as a child, teenager and adult. And, in her final moments of awareness and speech, laying in a hospice bed during a global pandemic, Meghan bent over her failing body–because even while dying, she was scared to leave ME despite her body being done and crumbling–and told my first soulmate that she would always take care of me, and it was okay to let go. About 5 minutes later, she lost all awareness and consciousness.

I have been lucky enough to have had four soulmates in my lifetime. This June, my timehop will be fully loaded of memories surrounding these 4 people and life altering moments. Of my first marriage crumbling 10 years ago, of my courtship with my wife 9 years ago forging full stream ahead to a new chapter, of my child beginning his first manic episode filled with violence and suicidal thoughts and actions, and of my first soulmate dying of cancer. And I am profoundly thankful for all of the memories and the path that led me to be the mom, partner, lover, granddaughter and friend that I am today. One who is still anxious, but strong and confident in following the paths and people meant for me.

This Wednesday, the kids didn’t have remote school because it was another round of virtual parent-teacher conferences. How has it already been a year (next week!) of the world shutting down? This was our third virtual parent teacher conference and it almost feels normal now. Easy. We sign up for a time, get sent a link, log in (with 1 teacher for Kinder and 6 for 5th grade (!) ) and discuss. Overall, my kids are loved at school and it’s a good thing because they are not easy and their kindness and trying goes a long way.

Last week, Alpha kid had a change in medication which doubled his nighttime dose, and a side-effect is drowsiness. It was doubled on a Tuesday and by Thursday, his body was fully in adjustment struggle… and he fell asleep in 4 classes. Obviously the opposite of what behavior they are used to with a hyperactive kid.

Normally, I would be hard on him, but he can’t help this cause and effect. So, I am the one who brought it up in the conference–I always bring up any elephants in the room and address issues head on. I literally say, I know my kids aren’t perfect and we aren’t those parents….and sometimes tense shoulders fall a little bit because they can be real with me. And I want it to be real. I explained the medication issue, thanked them for always giving him grace and attention–he has serious attention seeking behaviors as well– and I am on their team as much as they are on his. The kids are currently in hybrid mode and at home M-W, and at school T-F. They point blank asked me if school moves to 4 days a week, will Alpha kid be in session all 4 days. I said without a doubt, because he has other issues at play and he needs that classroom structure. ALL SIX TEACHERS NODDED THEIR HEADS IN UNISON when I finished my sentence. They want to see him more…they want what’s best for him, they know he needs the structure. His super supportive and kind English teacher piped up and mentioned his great fall test scores and how he is on par with his peers, who test above the state and regional levels. She seemed just as proud of him as I am, considering his learning disability on top of all of the medical and mental stuff. This kid has A LOT going on, and still forges ahead. He is the first to log in daily, independently. I joked and said if they log in a minute or two late, he has already refreshed the link 20 times because his anxiety expects class to start on time, on the dot. They all laughed and agreed that they appreciates his attendance and punctuality. He hasn’t missed one day of remote classes in the year we have been doing this. (and they have a summer session, so only a 4 week summer break) Pretty damn good.

They asked if I thought he was logged into class the entire time (most boys in his class do not turn on their screens–annoying) or watching YouTube like many of his peers. I confidently told them I know he is in class—and I am talking 6 LIVE classes a day, not this random check in and do independent study work for a few hours that many districts have adapted towards–because I check on him multiple times during each class (yes, it’s exhausting) and YouTube is literally turned off on our Wifi router. No joke, his teachers applauded me. HA! I told him I know it was an issue early in the fall, and I banned the site from the entire house–I can’t even watch it on my phone without disactivating the Circle. I again told them that my job as his parent is to support them as his teachers, and I hold him to high standards because I know he has to worker harder than peers, but he can do it. They again thanked me but I get more out of it than they do….and it’s my job as his parent to make him a responsible adult, with or without issues.

He does his laundry. I have taught them to clean his bathroom from toilet, sink to shower. He helps me with yardwork. He has to keep a clean room and pick up after himself. I want him to leave my house as a young adult and be able to function with basic skills because he has so much other stuff to work on. The kid makes his own breakfast most of the time but gets served a hot meal at lunch like a Prince. Life is about balance. LOL

Overall, he is somehow coming up on middle school and doing well. He will never be a straight A student and that’s okay. I gave up that expectation years ago, especially with his rigorous IB school. But, the kid is bilingual, tests above state standards, and he will be okay. He hates to read, but he can read, so I call that a win.

And, he is loved at school and I can’t imagine him being in any other school community. Maybe the next parent-teacher conference will be in-person? Only time will tell.

I am honestly shocked anyone found my previous post, aside from the person I told–ha!, after so long. Life has been a lot, around the needs of a spirited, special kid and everything else. Life overall is okay—we are doing well considering. We both still have jobs, we are actually better off financially now than even a year ago with a promotion for my wife, and given the fact that so many people are truly suffering during the pandemic, we are good. We have our needs met, doctors, medication, heat and water, you name it. So much food is served weekly at our house with the kids always home and our kitchen being a revolving space for 546 snacks a day, three meals and usually a brunch thrown in there as well. My kids are stocky—they like full bellies and they don’t know how good they have it.

A reader asked about T during all of this. We co-parent on a weekly basis and for LONG time followers, the other woman has been out of the picture for about 5 years or so, and T is so much better to co-parent with. And in an interesting life curve, she is now remarried as well and I co-parent with her wife almost as much or more than I do with T. Mainly due to the fact that she is a type-A anxious personality like I am, a communicator and scheduler, and we get the shit done that needs to get done. So, now Alphabet kid has 4 moms and his little sister is jealous, because of course she is. T and I attend most if not all of his psychiatrist appointments together, and she schedules his therapy. We split his medical needs in half, which is nice although I am the controller of meds and dole those out to her monthly. She has her PhD in School Psychology, so this is literally her field and she knows and has resources that many do not, so she knew his therapist on a professional level for years due to her clients/patients and he became a perfect resource for Alpha kid. So, short answer, yes, she is very involved. We also now share 50/50 custody of Alpha kid and joke that it was meant to be, because he is the type of intense personality that needs two homes.

In terms of my marriage, that is a complicated answer. M and I are great most days and have days where we struggle like everyone else. We co-parent little sister so much better than we co-parent Alpha kid. She has some serious trauma and PTSD and I have unconditional love and serious defense mechanisms that often times clash. Our house runs every differently on the days he is home, and the days he is gone. It makes me sad, angry and sometimes scared because I never know if they are going to have a good day or a bad day, so I have some PTSD as well of the toxicity in our household. Little sis is the glue that holds us all together and adores her big brother. I joke that they are friendnemies because they love to have sleepovers together on weekends (I drag one of their mattresses to the other’s bedroom) and often times they go to bed holding hands, love to watch “their” shows together on Netflix and have dance parties in the living room. But, they can scream and emotionally hurt each other as well, so mental illness isn’t an isolated box in our household. We all have our issues, none of us are perfect and we dance around our family dynamics to make most days work. M and I love and adore each other and our main discourse revolves around parenting Alpha kid….which hurts, so I sometimes ask her to back up and let me handle him.

I don’t think life is easy for anyone and I’m definitely not one of those people that leads a reality life and a social media life—what you see is pretty much what you get with me. Many people applaud my honesty, especially around mental health and being a special needs mom, and I get messages from friends and acquaintances who ask for my advice or encourage me along the way. I guess some can’t handle it though and I get literally unfriended, and that’s fine. I don’t have time to care and I sometimes forget those people exist until they are brought up in conversation….out of sight, out of mind. I think social media and especially blogland sometimes makes people forget that these are real lives. Real struggles. Real decisions, sometimes a matter of life or death. It isn’t just words on a screen, or a story. I know I was judged by some in blogland a few years ago when Alpha kid was placed inpatient, but would they make a different decision if their kid was suicidal, violent and manic? Thankfully they will probably never need to answer that question, but I’m doing the best I can on any given day. I know I wouldn’t change that decision, or the decision to medicate, and it’s one of the best decisions of my life, no matter how hard it is to walk through and remember. I would much prefer he had a week inpatient, and a cocktail of medication, than to lose him forever. Those are my fears, my reality. We still have flashes despite the heavy meds and therapy–after he punched me in October, he was remorseful and talked about killing himself. You can sure as shit bet that I got in his face and told him he is worth it, he belongs on this earth and he is loved. Punches and all, he can work to make himself a better version, as we all should do, but to never give up.

I can’t believe it has been over two years since I posted. In that amount of time, the little started preschool-then kinder, the big continued elementary school while heavily medicated with a team of professionals helping all of us navigate, my dog and my Grandma (two of my best friends) both passed away, I had a hysterectomy due to severe pain and quality of life, my wife and I have had a massive rollercoaster of co-parenting and marriage, and oh yeah, a pandemic. I am, again, not sure what brought me back here after so long, but I think it has to do with the anniversary of Alphabet kid being inpatient. It is now a marker in time, a trauma in my heart that makes me look back to analyze and look forward to if it will happen again. I’m confident it will, so it’s like a mental game of cat and mouse, not knowing when it will catch up to us again. To constantly live with a level of fear of what if’s is like a small hole constantly burning and spreading inside the middle of your heart. Will he snap? Will he hurt someone? Will he hurt himself?

I honestly don’t even know what to say, or what I need to process so it will be another stream-of-consciousness post of mental vomit moving across the keyboard. Alphabet Kid is now in 5th grade and has almost completed one full year of pandemic education, which equals 4 days in school (he was hybrid of 2 days per week, for 2 weeks, before the arctic blast started and the school went fully remote again) and the other (what feels like) 5, 678 days at home. It’s been a mixed bag for sure. He likes remote learning because its more time at home, which equals more down time, which equals more Xbox time. It is still a massive obsession, almost compulsion, that I have to work ready hard to balance his need/craving with healthy limits. It’s damn hard and completely exhausting while I try to also parent and teach his little sister who is now a Kindergartener, in a French Immersion school that should not, or never ever be taught remotely to 5 year olds. A serious disconnect of survival and thriving swings back and forth almost daily. SO many goddamn hot lunches that make me feel like a short order cook while I try, just try, to utilize my own education with my fulltime job that somehow, by means of survival, has become part-time–yet seven days a week because of emails, web work and social media–since I have children at home seven days a week. Thank you US Government for the CARES act that gives some employers leeway to supplement salary with funds similar to FMLA. My wife takes off Thursday/Fridays, which has allowed me three days per week on site (I also work each Saturday) and then her schedule is Saturday-Wednesday. We have zero days home together aside from Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years Day. It’s a lot. If she doesn’t work, she doesn’t get paid, so I am especially thankful to my employer who understands our tough spot of remote learning with two essential employees who can’t work from home. But, between us, we both work seven days a week and it’s always a solo mom day. On Saturdays, the kids are either with me at work, as they were all day last Saturday, or with one of two people who can truly handle keeping our kids for an entire day as they are a lot, especially when together. One is out of town the next 6 weeks, so they will be with me at work more often and it’s an overwhelming day of working on site and parenting two high-energy, high-maintenance kids on site….no go to your room, go play, etc. I joke that only we would have extremely chaotic schedules and juggling who is in and out the house at any given day, during a pandemic.

During all of this chaos and times of transition, Alpha kid has maintained his monthly Psychiatrist appointment and a new therapist that started about a year ago, both telehealth. Thank the goddess that the intake and process for the therapist started right before the shut down. The therapist works out of a center for neuroatypical boys and specializes in connecting with these boys on a friend level, in order to add therapeutic interventions and suggestions while seamlessly going between talk about the Xbox and games, and struggles over the last month. If there is a specific game or thing one of his clients is interested in, he starts playing it, learning it, to better connect. It’s perfect for Alpha kid and he actually looks forward to his time. He still loves his Psychiatrist that he saw after he was discharged, three years ago.

There is that marker in time. Three years.

This is the doc that finally found the right cocktail for Alpha’s complicated brain, that I feel daily guilt and angst over. One year ago, he was still on the same two medications that he started after inpatient, albeit with higher dosages due to growth. One for ADHD and one for a mood stabilizer/anti-psychotic. Last March, a week before the shut-down in almost a weird foreshadowing of our next year, Alpha kid had his first panic attack. It was early in the morning, while getting ready for school/work and he suddenly couldn’t function. He was sobbing out of control, complaining is chest hurt, breathing heavily and as an adult well-versed in severe anxiety and panic attacks, I instantly knew what was happening. A part of me crumbled that day, because I was watching a mini version of myself, rolled into a ball near the trash can in the mudroom. It is yet another vivid memory during our traumatic timeline of mental health with a then 10 year old. I immediately sent him back to bed, where he slept for hours–unheard of for my hyper and overstimulated kid. The next week, he was given an anxiety medication to use on an as needed basis, similar to my xanax, but without all of the addictive properties. I manage my own anxiety (I’ve taken 28 out of 30 pills given to me last March when the shut down occurred, which I think is pretty good given the shit-show that the world has been since then) so this is familiar territory. Enter more mom guilt of my mini-me.

The spring, summer and fall of 2020 are pretty much a blur of remote school, afternoons in the inflatable pool (that I swore I would never purchase), so many meals, managing two kids who are becoming more and more alike–which scares the shit out of me–managing our own adult anxiety and severe stress over both working in the public during a pandemic with multiple positive scares of customers/visitors and co-workers, and juggling everything in between. In October, we loaded up the kids in a rented minivan and drove 14 hours south to my mother-in-laws house. It was supposed to be a nice break, but turned into a shit show in just a different state. Passive aggressiveness and family dynamics, kids without their normal routine and an Alpha kid who doesn’t transition well without becoming overstimulated, lead to a manic episode which ended with me being punched square in the face, hitting me so hard that my glasses cut through my skin, adding a stream of blood to the trauma of the afternoon. An afternoon where he also tried to push my wife down a flight of wood stairs onto a Spanish tile floor. She didn’t completely trust him before, and those 2+ years wounds of fear and survival instantly rushed to the surface, where I was once again placed in the middle of a broken family. Me screaming to my wife in my mother-in-laws bathroom that I know he isn’t normal, but I will always choose him because I have to give him unconditional love–I am the only one who always will. An unhealthy boundary of mother’s guilt mixed with a side of fear and a heaping pile of love.

Once we got back to town, he was given a new medication, which actually works with his ADHD medication and allowed the stimulant dosage to be decreased. So, now my 11 year old is on a daily cocktail of 4 medications for mental health and an alphabet soup of diagnoses. As a mom, it’s a lot to process, rationalize and get through on a daily basis. He takes 3 pills in the morning, 1 pill at lunch, 2 pills in the evening, plus his prescribed melatonin to help with sleep issues common with both ADHD and bipolar. Throughout the pandemic, his OCD tendencies have increased and every single fucking day is left walking on eggshells of balancing his inability to be told no or strong boundaries, with the supreme need for me to just make it through another day. And most days are fine! Some are even fantastic, filled with joy and laughter. We play games. My kids watch crappy Netflix shows together. He plays XBox with friends daily, and I constantly have to tell him to use his inside voice, aka “watch your volume please!” But, in the back of my mind, I am always waiting for the next punch, the next shove; the next threat.

I watch shows about criminals, serial kills and people who snap and wonder what is the difference between them and my son? Did they have a loving home? Did they have parents who seek out every resource to help normalize a nontypical brain and mood? Will there come a time that a therapist and Psychiatrist won’t work and the police become involved? Is there even a difference between them, and him? This is a kid who can win the Student of the Month or Respect and the next month, punch his mom in the face. What creates that dual existence?

These are questions that constantly run through my own anxious and OCD brain. What makes him snap, that traumatic switch that flips in his head, that doesn’t exist in me? Is it the difference between a male and female brain? My need to be a care-taker and his need to fight? In a fight or flight world, I am flight and he is fight. He is my mini-me, but this is a vast difference that I see unfold on a daily basis. I will for sure fight for my kids far more than I would ever fight for myself but my instinct is to flee to safety. He will fight for himself, sometimes just for the sake of fighting.

Biology, genetics and brain chemistry are all fascinating and sometimes it just feels like a giant, shitty roulette wheel. And I clearly need to come here more to process my wins, and my losses.