Me: “Lions are very large, and have long manes around their heads.”
Levi: “What is a mane?”
Me: “The long hair here around his face and ears.”
Levi: “I don’t like his mane. Why did you get me this book?”
Me: “You asked for a book about real lions.”
Levi: “I don’t want a lion book any more, I want a tiger book.”
Me: “Next time we go to the library you can get book about tigers.”
Levi: Closing the book, “I think we should go back tomorrow, and you need to make better choices.”
Going to the movies with a friend is a new favorite activity. I sometimes wonder if she really wants to even see the movie. She loves any excuse to hang out with friends. The thought has crossed my mind that at some point she will realize she is alone, unsupervised and mom is a whole 5 minutes down the road and would be clueless if she were to leave. Of course, I am counting on the fact that she is not as conniving a teen as I was. But on her next trip to the movies you may see me circling the parking lot, or better yet I am going to buy myself a ticket. I need a disguise…
Her cell phone is the most important thing. Ever. She password protected it to keep snoopy people from reading her text messages. I asked her for the code, she reluctantly gave it to me. Now the realization has come that I may be the snoopy people she is trying to keep out. She can text 100 words per minute which is important because she rarely uses it for much else. Very few phone calls actually take place since teens only seem to communicate via text messages.
She has a facebook, myspace and twitter account. How many ways does a teen need to message, text, or view their messages and tweets. How about gawk at each others pictures. And how many pictures can a teenage girl take where she is giving a peace sign or the same fake surprised look in each photo?
The mall is “The Best Place Ever!” Where else can a teen load up on dippin’ dots, corn dogs, giant cookies, slushie cokes, cheesy fries and soft baked pretzels all in one place? She comes home from the mall on a carbohydrate high so intense it is hours before her eyes dilate properly again. I may start randomly testing for sugar levels and carb counts.
I have noticed her noticing teenage boys and by noticing I mean seeing a boy, blushing and then turning away as if she isn’t noticing. As adorable as I am sure some of these overgrown, former hot wheels playing, pimply faced, baggy pants wearing, testosterone hormone driven, teen twits are; they need to stay away from my daughter. Just today at the gas station, 5 fearless Y chromosome carrying Neanderthals were staring at her, with me right beside her. I need to really work on my psycho mom scowl.
She is attending Freshmen Frenzy this week and will be starting high school very soon. I am having mixed feelings as I watch her walk up the school all alone. She doesn’t need me to hold her hand or walk around to meet her teachers. I am noticing, as she has become a teenager she is taking on the responsibility of being her own person. She may not need my hand to hold anymore but I need hers.
Oh, and I have been informed that she does not intend on riding the school bus this year, "Mom, nobody is riding the school bus."
I feel guilty. Kalvin is 11 years old and just recently diagnosed with Autism. Actually he has been diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome, a type of autism that falls under the Autism Spectrum Disorders umbrella. The doctors are not very helpful…”here ya go, we have labeled your child now it’s up to you to know how you deal with it.” I did receive a couple book titles that may help. Seriously?? How can this type of diagnoses not come with some type of support for parents? So here I am scrambling to find help—scouring the internet for sources of information, reaching out on website forums-- hell I even twittered about it, all in the hopes of finding someone with closely guarded secrets they are willing to share with a mom who has no clue. And I have come across a couple sweet parents who would share their stories, but they have toddlers or preschoolers who have Aspergers, not a tween. So they are in far different places with very different problems. Impulsivity of a 3 year old is not equivalent to the impulsivity of an 11 year old. Poor social skills in a 3 year old aren’t going to get him teased and taunted like that of an 11 year old child who is trying to fit in with his buddies at school, but doesn’t know how. An immature 3 year old is not a worry—he’s only 3, but an immature 11 year old knows he’s immature, he feels the difference between himself and others his own age. His self-esteem his almost non-existent and as his mom I am doing all I can to help boost his confidence. But I am having little effect, I am lost. I feel like he may float away from me and his dad, the only anchors I think he has at the moment. How am I going to get him back? How am I going to help him find his self-worth? How am I going to get through this? Ridiculous, I sound like it’s about me, and it is not--- and “get through this” like it is a hurdle that can be overcome and I know it’s not. I need life skills for him and for our family.
His young little soul is also battling depression. And the doctors have asked me—more than once—if I too am depressed. “No” is my standard response. They say that children with depression are often mirroring the behaviors of a parent. So are they trying to lay blame? I did have a bout of post partum depression after Belle was born, but within three months I was off the anti-depressants and back to myself—as back to “myself” as a mom can be with 4 kiddos, one of which is a preemie, one is a hell on wheels toddler, one is a carrying around all types of confusion in his little mind but no one knows what is wrong, and one kiddo on the verge of teen years with all the drama that entails. Am I depressed now? I may be feeling that way now, with all the guilt, the questioning, the signs I missed. That trite saying about hindsight is kicking me in the ass right now. And today, yes today I am feeling depressed. I am feeling like I am failing, like I should have previously and should be now doing more than I am. Here I go again making this about me. Damn it!
