Saturday, August 22, 2009

There's No Place Like Home...

*Note to reading family members & friends from the mother ship: I love you all and mean absolutely nothing personal by the following post! Mwah!


We are on day 10 of our 13-day journey back to the mother ship. As absolutely fantabulous as it is to have help and see the people we love and miss dearly, I am cooked and ready to go home. Is it just a natural rigidity that sets in as we age that makes us not able to sleep on other mattresses or fully relax in someone else's home? Or is it the fact that I am paranoid at all moments that one of my kids (namely M) will wander off and chew or scratch someone's leather chairs or eat their books and dvd covers? As much as people tell me not to worry about such things...or that it bothers me more than it bothers them...I cannot let these things go. My parents in particular have a ridiculously pristine home that offers zero kid-friendliness other than the fact that everything is on one story. I immediately covered their over-priced leather barcaloungers with towels and sheets as a precautionary measure...one that was most definitely warranted since M made every attempt he could to scratch them when one of the sheets was moved by B to 'help his animals go to sleep.'

It is priceless to see the way M lights up around his grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and best friend, C. And he is enjoying the ability to swim in his grandparents' pool each and every day. But it is obvious that he is struggling a bit this past week and missing the comforts of his own home and his own routine. He is flapping a lot more. He skips around the house doing his own version of running laps. His food obsession has become magnified, leaving him a teary mess when we have to keep everyone else's glutinous plates out of his reach. He is so restless when he sleeps that I find him lying crossways in the bed with the covers completely tangled around him. He's cooked too.

And then there is my own ever-growing paranoia. I am well aware of the fault I have carried since childhood of worrying too much about what people think of me. If you've already been gifted such an annoying trait, I think it only magnifies when you are the parent of a child with special needs. All of these people who care so much about us...are they scrutinizing the way we handle every meltdown? Do they feel we aren't doing enough to address M's schooling crisis? Are they concerned about the state of the other half's and my relationship? I worry way too much that they are instead of just being myself and not giving a shit about it. Oh, how I wish I could stop being this way! It's all part of the process, isn't it?

I'd say that B is the one faring the very best of all of us. He has been a pleasure on this trip aside from not wanting to stay in his seat belt during turbulence on the plane. He is having an absolute ball with everyone and has even taken a few naps here in there! He wants to sleep with me every night, and though I realize I may have a little adjustment to getting him back in his own bed when we get home, I have relished the snuggling time with him. Each morning he wakes up well before I am ready to get out of bed, walks around to my side of the bed with his stuffed animal and blankie in hand, and says, 'Mommy, are we at my Grandma's house?' Or, 'Mommy, I am all done with sleeping.' He melts my heart and help keeps me sane.

Well, this stream of consciousness is hitting a brick wall. My brain is not as sharp as it needs to be with this inability to sleep straight through a night.
I will leave by saying that I am more confused than ever as to what the right answer is for my beautiful M and his future. I am fairly sure that it involves moving back to the mother ship, but I am not sure which city makes the most sense. I am worn out from the constant thinking about it and beyond ready to finally understand which direction this family is going to go next....

1 comment:

Kara said...

3 days would be my max traveling pre-kids...with kids I think 24 hours in someone else's home would be enough to make me yank my hair out. You know that if you move to this end of the mother ship we'll dive right in and spoil the boys silly.
PS Not giving a shit about what others think of you is marvelous. I mean MAR.VE.LOUS. Unfortunately it does take a toll on one's fashion sense. Ahem.

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