Punky Mama

Nothing happened.  Yep, you read it right…nothing. We are right now exactly where we were yesterday.

Ryan’s team assembled.  Dr S. psychologist, KC his in school therapist, J who performed the functional behavioral analysis and is seeing Ryan twice a week, M Ryan’s case manager, along with Ryan and I sat down.  We are being denied TSS by the grand poobah, Community Behavioral Health.  I think the CBH people wish I would shut up and go away, but after investing over a year pursuing this, I am here to fight.  The Dr is putting together a new report with Ryan’s recent behavior charts from school, letters from his first and second grade teachers, the results of the functional behavioral analysis, the results from the autism tests they have given the teacher and myself to fill out repeatedly, and the fact that CHOP is going to evaluate us in April for a PDD diagnosis.  We have repeatedly said in the mountains of paperwork that Ryan is not a candidate for ADHD medication right now because he is off epilepsy meds and the ADHD meds lower the seizure threshold. The consensus in the room is that Ryan needs TSS.  She is a strong advocate for Ryan and feels he is a candidate for TSS.  She wants to do everything she can to help us get what we need for him. If they come back with another no the team is going to help me file an appeal.

Last night as I was full of anxiety about the issue, my husband said the best thing he could say to me.  He said, “We fought this hard for all these years, this is just another hoop to jump through although it has been the biggest to date.  You walk in and if they deny him, we put on the fighting gloves, and keep making the phone calls and filling out forms till we get the help Ryan needs. Till then he is not in danger and we do the best we can.”  I knew I married him for a reason.

I am trying really hard not to give in to the frustration and give up hope.

Today as I picked Aaron up from school the kindergarten teacher told me that Aaron brought home new books today from the green box, and no longer picks from double yellow box.  He is reading ahead of grade level and now is where he should at the end of kindergarten.  Of course, I was incredibly proud, the kid loves to read, and has voluntarily has read ten books in a night on many occasions.  I am not used to teachers telling me that my kid is doing so well and her news took me aback.  I processed it a little as I walked away and I felt choked up.  Part of it was pride. Part of it was mourning what I missed.  All the books Aaron has brought home to date, Ryan read.  Aaron is where Ryan was in the middle of first grade.  I think back to just how hard school has been for Ryan and I feel robbed for him.  Aaron has so much less to battle in the school department and his ability shines through.  Homework with Aaron is almost never hard or trying.

I’m worried.  I read posts like this and I relate to it more than I wish I did.  I never want Aaron to feel like he gets less of me because he is neurotypical but at times that’s hard.  We  spend as much as 18 t0 20 hours a week doing homework with Ryan.  Most of that time is on the weekend. When Ryan is studying or doing more homework during the week Aaron usually has his homework done in minutes. I sit Aaron next to me with an activity book or scissors and paper.  I try to regularly stop, caress his arm, and thank him for letting us get Ryan’s work done.  On the weekend sometime I leave Ryan home with my husband to complete the homework and Aaron and I go off together alone.  If I stay with Ryan to study, my husband does something with Aaron.  Even though I try I worry.  The expectations for Aaron are different.  He at 6 has more self control that Ryan has at 8 1/2.  Aaron is way more interested in helping with family life.  I just hope he knows I am doing my best for him with the space and time I have.  I never want him to feel ignored.

I have been doing a myriad of projects in my new work from home job.  I find it fascinating that I get to work for Psychics and Real Estate Software providers in the same day.  Many of my projects come from Hollywood Psychics.  I am not someone who is a believer in such things and I have to say while working, I have rolled my eyes more than once while reading blogs about astrology, tarot, and psychics.  I do know that many of the bloggers I read think that the online or telephone psychics are “fake” and not credentialed.

I placed a call to get my tarot reading.  I was given the choice to listen to an introduction of each psychic available.  I found myself hitting next, next, next.  One seemed too out there for me to be comfortable, the next too weird, the next even more out there.  Then I heard Sedona.  I instantly liked her voice.  She seemed straightforward and to the point.  I picked her.  I am so glad I did.

She had a great way about her on the phone.  You could tell she loved people and their stories. She asked my birth date and did a combination of astrology reading and tarot cards.  Her first words were about Uranus in the 4th house, whatever that means.  She said I was going through a grand reinvention of my entire life especially I was changing the way I made money.  She was 100% right about that.   Pluto was supposed to be propelling me to have fresh ideas and I was breaking down things and building them anew.  She mentioned to me that I should not let people influence me on my new venture and that I  shouldn’t let lack of support or competition slow me down because I had unique skills to offer.    Then she told me that a male was going to enter my life as a mentor.  He had valuable information for me and that I would not want to listen to him because he suffered great personal lost, but I should listen anyway.

She said in my house of family I sometimes had an excess of what I could handle, to which I replied yeah, tell me what I don’t know.  I had a child that is fighting, who is afraid to be vulnerable and to continue to do what you are doing for him.  I would have to help him to express his emotions deeper than the surface.  She said when dealing with him I should work at understand his emotions, not his words, and then recommended I read a book, You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay.  She mentioned she thought that there was a time of great change around this kid a few years ago, and that there should be a leveling off in his issues.  She said she felt I had a tremendous love for my kids.

She thought I felt an extra drive and push to weed people out of my life right now and that I was learning to say, no and I should bring healthy minded people into my life. So doesn’t everyone donthat all the time? She mentioned that in the spring I might have a chance to get away with my husband and I should go.  That I found interesting because we are planning to get away, overnight, without the kids.  Need I say more.

We then chatted for a minute about why I chose her and we discussed that New Yorkers can pick each other out even if we have been transplanted.

I have to say I was nicely surprised by my reading.  She didn’t tell me anything I did not know about my life but I have to say I felt cheered on to continue doing what I have started.  It was an experience I didn’t expect.  It was not hokey or weird in the least, nor did I feel scammed.

Would I pay my own money to have a psychic reading? Probably not, but if I were going to I would pick Sedona again.

I started this post this afternoon.  I thought I clicked on, save as draft, and I mistakenly published it before editing and finishing my ideas.  Gotta love trying to tech on not enough sleep.

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I have always flirted with things that were not socially acceptable.   I did drugs, but I dabbled, never wanting to get caught in their net.  I smoked, but for less than five years and I quit once, and stayed quit.  I drink alcohol and in the past I have had times of excess,  but these days most weeks I have a small glass, five ounces, of beer as I count my tips at the end of my bar shift, or occasionally a few drinks on the weekend or on the rare occasion I actually go out.  I flirt with these things but I never wanted them to be a daily part of my life because deep down next to my punk rock rebel liberal heart, I am a good kid who follows the rules and luckily is not an addict.  I always found a strange attraction to the darker things but I like to be more of a voyeur than a participant.  The people I let really close to my life were usually quite stable, although different.

When I returned to the bar, after being away for seven years it took a long time to adjust to my Mom/Dive Bar Bartender life.  At first it felt so wrong.  How could I, the Mom of two very young children, choose night after night to make a living in this den of debauchery.  Not many of my other 40-something Mom friends could say they knew a large group of addicts who used daily.  I have befriended a gang of young single guys, who at times remind me of the male equivalent of Carrie Bradshaw and her friends minus the shoes and glamor. I get the the ongoing saga of Sex and the 20-something single guy weekly.  I love to listen to their alcohol fuel stories and adventures as they enter adulthood.  Now I can’t imagine not visiting this world and interacting once or twice a week.  I was never a bar person, I rarely ever go to bars, I work in them.  When my husband and I were in the band we played in bars, worked in bars, and on our days off did anything but go to a bar. We were never bar people.  I like bars, but really I prefer to work in them, not patronize them.

I keep the chaos of the bar far far away from the wholesome chaos at home. I have seen what the excess of bar life does to a person and I know too many people who have died before their time because of substance use.  My kids met a few of my co-workers and developed friendships with them.  When the boys were little we only had one car and my husband worked downtown.  I would commute in with the boys, pick up the husband, he would drop me off at work, then he would drive home, and take over evening baby/toddler duty.  When we were potty training, this could be a long ride for the boys small bladders so I would bring the boys in the bar, use the rest room, and they would be off with their Dad.  These days they don’t come to the bar at all except, if we happen to walk past, or need to store something in the fridge as we go on an adventure.  They don’t need the gritty chaos of the bar to interrupt the wholesome chaos of their childhood.

Thursdays I enter the bar and sigh, happy to escape the world of wholesome chaos and special needs at home.   I love working Thursdays.  Thursdays are full of youngsters full of potential for the freedom of the weekend and great regulars.  I like my co-worker and the crowd is usually fun.  For a long time I wanted to work more Fridays.  They are the big money maker.  Last night I discovered in the desperate eyes of a drunk why I really should not have them.  People arrive fresh off a long week at work.  They are short tempered and hating their life, boss, significant other, the world.  They walk in order a beer and a double shot.  Before I ring them up they want another, then ask for another, and another, getting angry I can’t be their own personal alcohol goddess in a room full of people wanting the same thing.  By 10pm I was ready to be back in the safe haven of the wholesome innocent chaos at home.  I got through my shift through happy to be done, I came home and snuggled my sleeping husband a little closer after scrubbing the bar from my body in a long hot shower.

This morning  I was awakened by Aaron in his full on 6 year old glory.  He was clad in skull and cross bone footie pj’s.  He was so excited that it was snowing and his chatter went on and on about sledding and snowmen.  I asked him about karate lessons the night before, and he went chopping and kicking across the room and told me the Korean words he learned.

I was so grateful that this is my life all the time.

I had big plans today. Get up, get the kids off, exercise, finish up my day work, blog something that has been in my head, nap, and do all that gets done with kids after school till I go to work. I got to exercise, then one of my clients called needing something. I saw dollar signs in my eyes and the dream of more Saturdays at swim meets and less in the bar washed all thoughts of blog posts from my day.

Hey, at least I got a nap.