Loving Too Much

Is there such a thing as loving someone too much? And if so, where is the line that distinguishes this?

I ask this because the stress of my pending divorce and my son’s unattended to learning disabilities has gotten me so stressed out, I feel like I am holding on by a thread. When I discussed this stress with my various therapy professionals last week, each one of them replied, “Forget about your son. Focus on yourself.” Forget about my SON?? That’s like asking me to forget to breathe! Every ounce of stress in my life exists because of the love that I have for my son!! I am getting divorced because my husband and I couldn’t see eye-to-eye regarding my son’s learning disabilities, and he just wanted to brush them under the rug while I fought like heck to get my son the services and accommodations he needs and deserves! Is THAT loving too much?

I am stressed out every second I am with my son, trying to manage his behavior, his meltdowns, his rambunctiousness and how it affects not only the two of us but also the environment around us.

I am stressed out every second because every interaction with my son will ultimately hinge on the type and amount of custody I ultimately receive from my divorce because the divorce laws have changed drastically over the past 6 months.

So why are these professionals telling me to “forget” about my son?? If my son were not in the picture, I might or might not be getting divorced. I wouldn’t have any educational challenges to deal with. And if I were divorcing, it would be a piece of cake: This is yours, this is mine, have a nice life. My stress level would be minute compared to what it is now.

Where does that leave me as a Mother? I decided to research this area a little and find out if there is such a thing as loving your child too much. Not in an overindulgent, let your child rule your world type of excess. But fighting for your child and your child’s rights. Being their advocate. Making the best decisions possible type of love. Is there such a thing as too much loving in these areas?

I did a google search on this topic. Many articles focused on overindulging a child with material things or giving in to them too much. I wanted something deeper. I came up with a few provocative articles that go beyond the obvious.

In an article written by Jane Nelsen and Cheryl Erwin, titled, “Is It Really Possible to Love Too Much?," the authors state that, “Divorcing parents may lack knowledge about the effects their actions have on their children. These parents will claim they want custody, ‘Because I love them.’ Parents also love their children too much when they can’t see that they are doing ‘bad’ while claiming to do ‘good.’”

Another article by Rod Smith, titled, “Loving” Children Too Much" brings across some food for thought. He argues that children are loved too much when their wants are habitually placed ahead of the needs of the parents,” (okay, well maybe my own needs are not getting met because I am consumed by my son’s needs?). Smith also states that a child is loved too much when a parent gives up all of their former hobbies and interests and focuses all of their energy on their children,” (Umm...like the 20+ parenting books I have at my bedside instead of the novels I used to read, once upon a time?). Looks like we may be getting somewhere.

The third article is a blog written by Aaron Ben-Zee’v in Psychology Today. In this blog, he deduces that, “Even if love were concerned solely with disinterested care for the beloved (and this is not obviously so), there is still the question of what constitutes proper caring. Love is not a merely theoretical attitude; it has profound behavioral implications for our life. And if such behavior becomes improper, then the issue of whether one can love too much might arise.” Improper as in focusing on your loved one’s needs rather than on your own?

Now, I think I get what all of the therapy professionals were trying to elude to: I have completely abandoned my own essential needs - all the way down to eating - to care for and try to be the “best” Mom I can for my son. I wasn’t paying attention when the airline attendant was demonstrating that you need to put on your oxygen mask first before you place it on your child. I know now that I need to focus on taking care of me a little more, otherwise the oxygen will run out and I will be of no service to myself or for caring for my son. There needs to be a shift in priorities.

Now, if I could only let go of my wonderful, amazing little boy in my head for just a little while...

For you see, each day I love you more...

Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.

~ Rosemonde Gerard

Sundays, Sundays

Mothers think about their children (no matter how old) day & night. Mothers love their children in a way they'll never understand. Mothers will be there for their children when no one else will. Mothers would take a bullet, jump in front of a train or ask God to take them instead of their child. If you have children you love as much as I love mine, post this as your status.

I hate Sundays. I actually loathe Sundays. I even begin to hate Sunday on Saturday. Why would anyone hate a nice, lazy, weekend day?? Because my husband has designated Saturdays as his day to spend with my son and therefore I get to spend all day on Sunday with my son. 

Now, on the surface, that appears fair and equitable. But in reality, it is far from it. My husband doesn’t sleep at home on Friday nights. He comes by to pick up my son around 8:30 - 9:00 am and brings him home roughly 12 hours later. On the contrary, my husband leaves for the gym at 7 am on Sundays when my son just awakens, and lately has gotten home close to or after 11 pm. And many times, my son waits until my husband comes home to tell him something exciting or ask him a question. Unless it is an emergency, my husband has made it clear that he is unavailable to speak or text with during the day. And the few times I have tried, I have gotten a response hours later.

The quip above had been floating around Facebook on Sunday. Although I was having one of the worst days with my son, I still felt, deep down inside that this still applied. But my comment underneath was, “VERY debatable.” I was having a really rough day with my son. And with no help and also 2 dogs to care for, it made for an even more challenging day.

The day started with a urine soaked bamboo bath mat and equally soaked bathroom floor. Need I say more? My son was distracted by something and wasn’t watching where he was “aiming.” My husband had left already and I was left to roll up and dispose of the mat and scrub down the entire bathroom floor. All at 7 am, sans even coffee. I can assure you that my husband has never had to begin “his” day with my son this way. And there have been other days when I have woken up to changing my son’s urine soaked bedding and have had to strip his bed at 7 am and do loads of laundry and re-make his bed. My therapists all claim that this is all a result of the psychological dynamics going on within our household. Yet I am always the one left to do the “dirty work,” as most mothers are.

The day only became worse. My son had a bad cold, so I felt that he needed a day of relaxation. This “relaxation” day tumbled into a day of tantrums and meltdowns...both his and mine. He “lost” a Pokemon/Bakugan/Yu Gi Oh card. There were cards strewn all over his bed, his desk and the floor. I tried to remain calm and got some gallon size Baggies and black markers. We identified each bag for each appropriate set of cards and sorted the cards into their respective bags. This alone took almost an hour and a half. And did we find my son’s “lost” card? Of course we did! In his pants pocket as I was sorting laundry to do!

Then there were meltdowns. My son waits until he is starving before he tells me he is hungry and “can’t wait” for me to make his meal (a carry over from when he was a baby. There were never any whimpers of uncomfortableness when he needed a bottle. He needed it yesterday and warmed yesterday! And his ear-piercing screams let you know it!). Then he didn’t like what the meal looked like, thus tasted like. So there were more meltdowns (mine) and tantrums (his). I ended up telling him that if he could find food to eat in the house (I had to go food shopping badly), he could eat. If he didn’t want the meal I made him and he couldn’t find anything to eat, he’d have to go hungry. A bunch of hunger-induced nasty insults were hurled my way (I say “hunger-induced” because my son has never spoken to me that way before. And after this past Sunday, I can promise you, he never will again.)

The dogs were taking their daily naps and he pounced on them. They, in turn, snarled at him (I would too if someone woke me up from a sound sleep!). His feelings got hurt terribly, so he spent a good half hour crying on the living room couch.

And the day gradually ended with a comment from my son that, at this point, not only made me laugh at the absurdity of it, but also gave me time for myself! My son said, “Mommy, I think you need to go to bed earlier because you’ve been cranky lately.” So I gladly responded, “Well, then I better get ready to go to bed around 10 o’clock so that I get a really good night of sleep and not wake up cranky!” To my surprise, my son didn’t balk when I said that I couldn’t hold his hand as he fell asleep. I meditated myself to sleep in my own bed. And ultimately, really did get a good night of sleep! And I made sure that I was bright and chipper in the morning so that my son would think that my going to bed early...his idea...was working!

It is a good thing that we have plans for the next four Sundays so that we can at least get out of the house! But at least you now have a glimpse of how horrible Sundays can be for me and why I hate them so much.

How much longer until my son graduates from high school??

Snow Day

I loved Snow Days when I was a child! I would bundle up and first help my parents shovel our 125-foot driveway, curved uphill (what were they thinking when they bought that house??!). There were no plow services where we lived, some 30 odd years ago. But once that was taken care of (2 or more hours later, followed by a large mug of hot chocolate!), I would take my old fashioned, wooden toboggan and head to our local golf course, 3 houses down the road! What incredible fun it was for the local community to bring their sleds and swish down the hills into the powdery snow!

On other days, I would build a snowman on our front yard! I became so good at making them that passerbys in cars or sleds would stop to admire them! There were also snow angels to make and later, in my teens, learning to ski.

Besides the shoveling, however, I could never understand why my parents grumbled so much about the snow. Now, as an adult, I totally understand.

Here in the Northeast, we have had 3 blizzards within one month. Twice I had to stay up all night, when the snowfall was the heaviest, to shovel our back porch, steps and make a doggie alcove for our dogs to use. I was out there every 2 hours, for a half hour at a time. I was awake for 30+ hours during and after this past storm. And I actually measured 13 inches of snowfall with a yardstick at 4 am!

I am DONE with snow for the season now! Maybe forever! NOW I understand why my parents grumbled whenever a big storm came through!

Just pulling my car out of the garage is nearly impossible. There is a fence on one side and our house on the other, with 6-foot high piles of snow pressed up against the sides of the fence and house! My small size SUV barely squeezes through this snow tunnel!

Forget food shopping for lots of groceries. Try pushing a loaded grocery cart through slushy snow only to get home and find you have to very carefully unload these bags and pray that you won’t fall and brake something, because 5 people you already know have broken something by slipping on the ice. And they were all your age or younger!

Well, rather bore you with a whole laundry list of why adults all hate the snow, I decided to have you recollect once again, through a child’s eyes, the wonders of snow...my son’s!

During the day before last week’s Blizzard, we had gotten a call that there would be a two-hour delay for the district schools the following day. As I was shoveling another 8 inches of snow off of my back steps at 2 am, I couldn’t help but think, “This school superintendent should be out here shoveling with me! Two-hour delay my...foot! These kids can’t go to school tomorrow!!” Sure enough, two hours into a scant sleep, the call came: Snow Day!

The first thing my son said as he ran to the window and saw mounds of snow was, “Mommy? I have to go to school in all that snow?” I replied that, no, he had a Snow Day and would not be going to school. He excitedly shouted, “Yes!” then proceeded to lounge around trying to decide how to spend this glorious day. What I found most interesting is how in a matter of two elementary grades in school, my son has learned from his peers how valuable a Snow Day could really be! Last year he would mumble, “OK,” and not fully take in the value of this type of day. Now he had become socialized to the almighty, “Snow Day!” Cute to note how their school environment begins to permeate them!

“Um...Mommy? Where is the Igloo building kit you bought me?” Now why did I decide to purchase something that would ultimately drag me out of my warm and comfy home and smack-dab into a pile of white stuff that I had been trying to get rid of the night before?? Oh yeah, to provide fun and excitement for my son on a Snow Day. Right. “I think it’s in the garage, Sweetie...” hoping he would choose to lounge a little more before venturing out into the stuff I spent the night in. “Okay, Mommy! Let’s get dressed and make a Snow Fort! I want to make a fort rather than an Igloo!” Thank goodness my husband was listening to this conversation and said that he would take my son out since he knew I had been up all night shoveling. At least he still has a shred of compassion.

Out they went, bundled and full of the excitement I remembered as a child! My son worked on that Snow Fort as if he were building another Fort Knox! Even when he complained that his fingers were cold, he still wanted to continue. (Note: tenacious is definitely part of his personality! Both positive and negative for him, as far as traits go!). Once finished, he then wanted to make a snowman, but my husband convinced him to come inside the house to warm up first.

A little over an hour later, lounge time over, he came looking for me again. “Um, Mommy? Can we build a snowman now?” Now where is my dang husband when you need him? Never around. Okay, quick thinking...”Daddy said he would build the snowman with you (I did hear him say that to my son, whether in jest or not. I had to track this man down...). Let me call him and find out when he can build it with you.

I called. My husband grumbled, I reminded him that I was up all night shoveling so that our dogs could go out, he relented. “Daddy said he would be here soon. Why don’t we have a snack to give you energy to build that big snowman!” (Good thinking, Mom! Food! Food to eat for a purpose! Nice going!) I had him eating very slow-to-chew foods, such as apples, so that I could give my “missing in action” husband time to make it home.

To my immense relief, husband made it home just as my son and I were picking out fresh snow pants, gloves, and boots, as the first set was soaked. Good time to start a load of laundry. Out the door they went to make Mr. Snowman! However Mommy seemed to be missing some key elements: buttons for eyes, mouth, and belly; long carrot for his nose (see shopping disaster above); and an old scarf and hat (didn’t we have them available last year??). We improvised (see photo). Mr. Snowman was completed and my son’s Snow Day goals had been fulfilled!

I realized at the end of the day that becoming a parent brings about, practically overnight, a complex absurdity as to how time and situations differ from a child’s versus a parent’s perspectives. The most important entity that fuels our day - time - is so dramatically altered the second one begins to raise a child. Once upon a time, an hour was 60 minutes long, and time was fixed and predictable. But now, all time proportions have changed, due to a child’s world. And what brings joy and excitement to a youngster slowly becomes an obsticle and an extreme hassle once you become an adult.

People are constantly telling me that my son is going to be grown up in a blink of an eye. On a day-to-day basis, it is hard for me to internalize that “growth.” It just happens without my even being aware of it. All I can tell you is that now a “Snow Day” has so much more grand significance in my son’s life! And he can also build one awesome Snow Fort...all on his own!

The New Journey

As a sequel to my former two blogs, I continue with my issue of divorce, but in a much more positive way. From the comments from last week’s blog, as well as some very meaningful advice from my therapist and even my Rabbi, I’ve begun what we are referring to as my “New Journey.”

This all started when I sat with my therapist and began to lambaste my husband about the new things he is doing (such as going skiing), with my son. I ranted and raved that I used to ski, but gave it up because my husband had no interest in it. My therapist then explained to me what she terms, “The Journey.”

As she described it, many people go through different “Journeys” during their lifetimes. Some couples are able to manage going through these journeys together. Other couples end up apart, because their personal journeys conflict for some reason and the couple is unable to merge their journeys together. She was essentially saying that my husband and I have grown apart in certain ways. And although I was willing to try to “merge” our different interests, he was not. She said that for some reason, he doesn’t want to include you on his new path in life. He wants something different. And he wants to do it alone or only include our son.

As painful as it was to hear this, I had to admit that my husband and I had been pursuing interests that neither one of us would have wanted to participate in. I no more would want to participate in an all day bike-a-thon than he would want to learn about theology. Our paths were already diverging.

My Rabbi, coincidentally, also used the word “journey” when I was discussing my current state of mind. She also felt that sometimes two people come together and have common interests and goals, only to find out that they have literally grown out of each other. And she reiterated that my husband already has started to move on and that I needed to try to do the same as well. Walking around with bitterness and resentment regarding a situation I can and never will be able to change is counter productive, at the least. I need to move on also.

My only lingering question to both my therapist and Rabbi was, “But what about my son? He is an innocent victim in all of this.” They both eluded that he would have to form his own “journey” through all of this. And if he needed counseling to help him do that, I would provide it.

So, here I am embarking on my New Journey. To be quite honest, I don’t even know what that is or where I am going. Except for taking a new class in theology, not much has changed in my life. Except for one really important thing:  My son has needed to go to bed much earlier the past couple of weeks because he is now sleeping longer than his usual 8 hours. Once we turn out the lights, he asks to hold my hand or arm as he drifts off. At first I was annoyed that I had to spend that extra time doing “nothing.” But I heard my therapist’s voice in the back of my head saying, “He is regressing a little. He’s clinging because he needs you.” So I decided to take the time I now use to help him fall asleep and utilize it towards something I used to do religiously, but found I was unable to fit it in at all in my chaotic life: Meditate. I sit on the floor, next to my son’s bed, as he holds my hand with his little one, and I clear my mind and breathe long, deep, slow breaths. And I realized a couple days ago that I was beginning my New Journey! I was starting to meditate again! And hopefully this will work its way into other facets of my life. Eventually my new path will be filled with new endeavors, new people and new goals. And I will have my son to share what I find interesting in my journey.

Amidst the worldly comings and goings, observe how endings become beginnings

~ Tao Te Ching ~

I couldn’t have said it more eloquently myself.

What is “Better?”

“BETTER” - of superior suitability, advisability, desirability, acceptableness, preferable”

I must admit that I was humbled by the number of concerned and genuine written and verbal comments my blog elicited last week. However, as true as all of the comments were, the essence that I took away from all of them was that my life would eventually “get better.” So I began to ponder both my life and the term, “better.” I came up with a list of questions that will sound bitter, and angry, and sarcastic because...well...I AM feeling bitter, angry and sarcastic. So, for those of you who truly had my best intentions in mind, and I sincerely appreciated all of them, please see past the bitter feelings and reflect on these questions:

Is “better” having my son ripped from his family unit and having to share time between two parents?

Is “better” being a single Mom to a child with multiple learning disabilities, and having to be the primary caretaker?

Is “better” having a child learn to deal with two different parenting styles, one of which is completely against his nature?

Is “better” having to pay a divorce lawyer almost $2000 of what was going to be my son’s college money just to fill out stupid, inane, paperwork when my child could have perhaps put that money into 2 college classes later in life?

Is “better” having one of your two pets, both of which your child adores, practically taken away because that pet favors the other parent?

Is “better” having to deal with stress related illnesses just about every single day, watching your own body become feeble and frail in the process?

Is “better” having a child have to share holidays, vacations and birthdays between each parent?

Is “better” attending a special event of your child’s, standing on the opposite side of the room from your former spouse, having as little communication as feasibly possible with that spouse, cheering on your child, hugging and kissing him for doing so well, and then having both parents leave in separate cars?

Is “better” not only not knowing what to say to friends when they inquire about the impending divorce? And is “better” having a child wonder what the heck is going on in their family but barely able to comprehend, let alone ask appropriate questions about what the heck is going on, because you don’t even know yourself? 

Is “better” having to linger in this “lifestyle” until your child goes off to college, which will roughly be 10 years from now?

After contemplating the smattering of questions I exemplified, can anyone honestly tell me that my life will get “better?” I seriously doubt so. Although I am open to being receptive to comments to the contrary.

I made a conscious decision to have a child and build a family. I looked forward to having a loving spouse, who would be there for this family during good times and in bad. I may never know just what went awry. But what I am experiencing and will be experiencing is far from “better.” And it’s a damn shame, especially for my child. Because out of us all, he’s the one who deserves “better.”

“He’s Just Not That Into You”

I saw my divorce lawyer yesterday. It was a very long, two-hour meeting and I left there drained. I was even tearing up as I drove home, thinking, “I am actually getting a divorce.” It sort of hit me the way when a loved one dies, out of the blue, you get a pang in your heart and you immediately think, “OMG! I’m never going to see that person again!!” It’s all part of the grief process.

But what has been bothering me the most has been the lack of closure for my marriage. I have asked my husband umpteen times why he wants to divorce and the answer is always the same, “I don’t know.” That’s not good enough for me. That’s not good enough when you spend 21 close, intimate years with someone and are married to him for almost 16. That’s not good enough when there is a child involved and their entire life is going to be upended. That is just not a good enough answer just for the sake of being not a good enough answer considering the magnitude of this situation. But it’s the best I’m ever going to get from him.

Still, I need closure. I have been working with my therapists and even pleaded with one of them to pretend my spouse had died to help me get through the grief process! She thought I was a little off the wall, but she understood. I can’t get past the grief process without some type of closure. I’d take just about any reason at this point! An “I don’t know,” just doesn’t cut it for me...and never will.

So, driving from one of my therapy appointments the other day, it hit me. For those of you who (probably pre-children), had the luxury of watching television, and had HBO, and may have been a “Sex and the City” addict, like me, may recall the, “He’s just not that into you,” episode. To briefly summarize, there was an episode where one of the main characters, Miranda, overheard a conversation between two young women. The young women were discussing why a date hadn’t called back when he said he would. The women were dissecting every nuance of the date and the phone calls the couple had prior to the date. And the woman who’s date never called back just couldn’t understand why because there were no obvious signs or communication indicating that this date would never call again. So brazen Miranda, listening to this wisely, approached the young women, apologized for eavesdropping, and simply said, “Face it. This guy is just not into you.” Then Miranda politely excused herself while the young women, although stunned by the revelation, had to agree with Miranda. And to some extent, you could tell that the woman who’s date never called back, was somewhat relieved at this epiphany.

As I drove home, I recalled this episode, and like the young woman whose date never called back, I thought to myself, “Your husband is just not into you.” And all of a sudden, a wave of peace washed over me. Yes, it’s a lame reason to use for “closure” purposes, but it is, still and all, a reason. 

Since I have allowed myself this “closure” statement, I must admit, I do feel freer and more positive. As ridiculous as this statement is, and considering that this is a marriage that is ending and not just a date not calling anymore, I realize that the statement of, “He’s just not that into you,” is rather trite. But, for me, it is something. And trite or not, it is at least a step above, “I don’t know.” So, for now, I have found my reason for closure. Or perhaps, on a superficial level, have something to use as a tool to start healing again. Because up until now, I’ve just been harboring anger. Tons and tons of anger. Which is ruining my body and mind and is just plain unproductive at minimum.

“He’s just not that into you.”  Barely meaningful for my situation, but for now, at least it works. And at least I can begin to move on.

The Loveliness of No Homework ?

If there was one thing I didn’t miss during the school Winter Recess growing up, it was not having to do homework. I guess those days are over.

My seven-year-old son was given a 3-week project to do on the solar system. It was to be worked on before the Winter Recess, during the Winter Recess and now for the week after. We wisely chose to do the bulk of the written work both before and after the Winter Break. The project included making a diorama of the solar system in an empty box. We left that to work on during the break because it we thought it would be more fun to do.

The written work - the whole project, actually - was beyond exhausting. Especially given at the peak of the Holiday Season. There was, no exaggeration, an eight-page outline of exactly what was supposed to be completed, in what order, and exactly how the accompanying diorama had to be constructed. An entire page was dedicated to Internet sites that the children (read: “parents”) needed to get information from. And the diorama models of the planets needed to look exactly as shown on the Internet sites. To make matters even more fun for the parents, specific craft supplies, within specified dimensions, needed to be obtained to construct this diorama! Try going to Michael’s craft store at the peak of the holiday season, push and shove your way through the isles to get to the Styrofoam balls (of varying sizes, of course), along with other assorted items. Once the materials were collected, you had to stand on line for 20 minutes, while your child is whining that they just want to go home (me too), and why is the line so long (because it is the Holiday Season, Honey, and ALL lines are long during the Holiday Season), and can’t we just do this another time when the store is not crowded (that would  probably be sometime around mid- June)??

Later, we found that the “planets” would need to be hung from the top of the box in some fashion. My husband went to Home Depot to get special hooks to hang these darn “planets” from.

Back to the paperwork, we still needed to have my son color in each of the planets on a sheet of paper in the exact colors shown on the Internet, and label them. Since my son loathes using crayons, and prefers using markers because he enjoys seeing his art project “come to life” using markers or paint, he wasn’t terribly happy about having to use specified crayons to color in his planets. He was downright frustrated when our small box of crayons had some colors either broken or missing. And while I have a supply of markers in every color imaginable, I didn’t even have one stinking box of crayons in my vast supply! Off to Staples I went the next day (I wasn’t dealing with Michael’s again!) and bought the 64 crayon box, so that my son would have a plethora of crayons to chose from, all new, and all which could be used to accurately resemble the actual colors of each planet!

This is just a sample of what the parents had to engage in before, during and after the Winter Break! For Christmas, my cousins knew how hard we all were working on this taxing project that they bought my son a real telescope for Christmas! My son has been looking for planets every night since!

So, although this project, due this Friday, has been a major inconvenience and huge hassle in every conceivable way for us parents, it has engaged my son. It all taught us something (mostly patience while waiting on long lines!), and proved that hard work and diligence really does pay off in the end.

But please, teachers. If you have to give children such a large project to do, please choose a time of year OTHER than the Holiday Season!! It would be so very much appreciated!! Thank you!