Social media addict?

Yesterday, I made the decision to remove myself from social media.

Yes, I did….

I deactivated my Facebook account and deleted my Snapchat.

I didn’t have an Instagram or twitter.

However, I do have accounts in all of these for my business.

On a personal level, I am not longer connected to social media.

AND I FEEL FABULOUS!!!

At first, I thought this was going to be hard. How will I survive without seeing everyone’s lives happening before me? How will I make it through a day without seeing how everyone’s first day of school was or how that girl in Bloomington is doing with the new baby. How will I make it without knowing how Ed the coffee guy managed to make it through the Park Ridge Farmers Market or how Bob from California is enjoying his new puppy?

This is how I did it. I replaced that time scrolling through social media with ME time. I looked at my son while I was talking to him. I asked him questions instead of nodding yes while responding to a post. I cleaned the oven, which was pretty cool! I did an amazing amount of marketing on milkshakes for my business and arrived into work early without being tired. While at work I read a book during the slow times and did a little extra cleaning.

It all seems so normal but for me it isn’t normal. I spent way too much time on social media. Doing all these extra things personally and professional has me feeling empowered and ready to tackle some more tasks. That’s crazy!!!!!

Last night I went to bed earlier then I usually do and actually went to sleep!  Like within 15 minutes. That’s unheard of!

This morning I woke up before the alarm and felt great.

I am pretty sure I was addicted to social media. Without it I get a little itchy, I want to just take a quick peek. I pick up my phone to click the big F (that’s F for Facebook) and for a second panic that it isn’t there. But, it’s getting easier and I am looking less.

Another reason I quit social media. It was helping me to build up resentments. I spend a lot of time with my son at home because autism doesn’t let us enjoy day trips out like most families. In addition, his chronic lung disease and oxygen requirements make it hard to just hop on out the door. Watching these assumable normal families enjoy the last few days of summer vacation was making me sad, not happy. Watching stranger’s lives that have no part of my daily life was making me resent them.

Without those visuals I can focus on the gratitude. The beautiful smile and hardy laugh my son enjoys at home. Our everyday hot dog lunches and “black popcorn” with water balloons by the dozen. The chronicles of the Boss (our puppy boxer) and homemade meals (not instagramed or facebooked) by my super BFF hubby! The best part are the text messages from the people IN my life with pictures of their kids first day at school, letting me know they are traveling for a sick family member or just asking to meet for lunch or coffee.  The important stuff!

What’s Next?

It’s been an autistic kind of day…

This morning John refused to talk to me unless we used the walkie-talkies. I enjoy when he does this because it encourages him to use proper sentences and good words. He keeps the volume so low on the walk-talkies that we can’t hear each other. However, we are standing right in front of each other. I believe the sound of the voice through the walkie-talkie causes a sensory issue so he keeps the volume low.

On the way out the door an older man walking a huge old German Shepard was walking by. John started chanting “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” over and over again. The man stopped and looked at us shocked. I quickly looked at him and said, “I’m sorry, he’s autistic, he’s just nervous”. The man gently said, “I can leave”. I said, “NO, we see you all the time, its ok. He has to be Ok”. All while John was chanting “Fuck”. The man said to John, “Hey John, this is my dog Jake”. John stops chanting and looks in their direction and says, “Jake, like Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Jake, Captain Hook, Mr. Smee, Sharky, Izzy and Skully.” The man responds, “Oh Skully, yeah I like X-Files, too”.  Next run in with Old man and Jake should go a little smoother.

We went to the last day of camp’s talent show at Indy Park. John is so well behaved at Indy it literally has me stumped. I have no clue why. Maybe because he loves it there so much. We spent an hour there listening to the team, greeting everyone and sitting watching the show. It was the quietest he has been all year so I really took advantage of talking to other adults without interruption. It was amazing!

As we were leaving it took everything in me not to cry before we got to the car. John loves this place but cannot attend because of his medical needs. They do not provide nurses and I can’t stay with him. I was sad because Special Olympics starts in September and he will not be there. I was sad because he is missing out on so many things that he loves, where he feels the most comfortable with the friends that make him feel normal and loved.

When we arrived home I let him eat “black” popcorn, didn’t feed him dinner and sat my depressed ass on the sofa. I was emotionally drained from having a good ugly cry in the car on the way home. John asked to go downstairs to play Wii. I was all for it, but didn’t follow him. I wanted to see if he could do it himself this time. He has seen me do it a million times.

I waited…I got lost in my phone…I waited a little more….got lost in my phone a little more and then popped up thinking he was way too quiet. Ill head down to see what’s up.

Scene: Our basement is small so the doors are pocket doors that slide into the wall. The bathroom door was half open with oxygen tubing trailing out. The smell of shit was in the air. I slowly peek in to find a few balls of shit on the floor, a little on the wall, all soaking in a pool of pee with his jeans and underwear laying on the floor soaked. John is sitting on the toilet humming and chanting “what’s next, Mommy?”, the question he has been asking all fucking day, while splashing his feet in the pee.

I managed to get it cleaned up while he sat on the toilet. I was amazed that he didn’t move off the toilet. I think he knew this wasn’t right and just wanted to sit there till it was gone. Kind of like what I want to do when I do something wrong….maybe it will just disappear?

All cleaned up, he jumps on the couch to play his Wii asking “what’s next?”  The bathroom is probably cleaner then when we first bought the house, BONUS!

My character defects like to creep in unintentionally. One of them is impatience and anger. Today, it didn’t’ happen. I only felt sadness. I feel like that is emotional progress…feel the feelings, walk through the fear, and keep the faith….

All day I have been listing off in my head the autistic quality’s that my son has.

The repetitive asking

The swearing

The need for a schedule

The lack of understanding of danger

He is intellectually disabled

He is beautiful, smart and so loving

Whats next blog

This is the face I love every day. It’s the face after the storm, after the hardship and after the madness. It’s the face of love and gratitude. He puts his head on my shoulder while patting my back saying “Gracias, mommy”. While we are just sitting there, after the storm. He puts on a hardy laugh while saying “I love you mommy”, just to see us laugh, after the storm. At bed, he asks one more time “What’s next?”, tonight the answer was “Tomorrow is Saturday, Chuckie Cheese because you earned it!”. He responds. “I earned it!” while his 12 year old body wiggles so hard with excitement.

#GoodNightSweetWorld

And tomorrow we will do it again…

To teach…or not to teach?

Recently, I have been thinking about going back to school for a degree in Early Education. Since I already have a Bachelors it wouldn’t take too long. I have always wanted to be a teacher. The hours and seasons would work perfect with my seasonal business selling froyo and with John.

Anytime I start thinking about changing careers, making life decisions or anything of that caliber I throw it out into the world. I start talking about it. I truly believe if you put it out there the answers will come. When I mention going back to school to be a teacher most people say, “You could be a Special Ed teacher!!”, like it’s the most exciting thing since sliced pie.

Um, NO!

It’s like a mechanic with a crappy car. He goes to work all day and doesn’t want to come home and take care of his car, too. Just because I have a special ed. child doesn’t mean I would make a great special ed. teacher.

I appreciate all the people that have taken on John and didn’t give up. He went through 5 schools before 6th grade. He had some amazing special ed. teachers and one crappy special ed. teacher (She’s a whole other blog post). But, I don’t think I could do it. I get a real high off of watching kids do “normal” or “typical” things like color, eat, talk, play and breathe. It makes me so happy when kids play using their imagination or when they interact with other children. I would love to be the person to facilitate all this normal behavior. I would also love to be the person to mold these “typical” children into kind, smart productive high schoolers.

So this is me putting it out there, again. I am still on the fence. My brain tells me I am crazy for taking on all this extra work, my heart tells me I could make a difference. I let myself think too much about it and the committee in my head can be a tough committee, not always supportive. I find the most real support, whether it’s for or against, from the real woman in my life. They are the most honest! Sometimes they see things in me that I don’t see, good and bad. When they are brought to the forefront I can recognize the good and work on the bad.

Love my amazing tribe of supportive woman!