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!

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Strategic thinking…

Today is neuter day for Boss, the dog. Poor little guy was so confused this morning. “Why aren’t you feeding me?” He tried to eat the flowers Kevin brought me over the weekend. I had placed them in a vase on our living room corner table. A table that was actually a bedside table for the huge bed and room we had at our last house. We downsized a year ago and life has never been so free of useless crap!!

Anyway, a neuter means a trip to the vet. It’s just Johnny, Mom and Boss. I have been planning my strategy to get out of the house as smoothly as possible since last night. I changed the plan a few times. At the end I did it a completely different way. Which means all that planning, scripting and thinking was a waste of time. Well, that’s how I roll when it comes to thinking.

I put Boss outside so I could prop the front door open without him making a runner. I was just praying John didn’t let him in while I was doing it. He is a slippery one that Boss. With the door propped I can get the push chair, lunch bag and back pack out the door in one pass and into the car. Return, let boss in and get the boys out the door. I have Boss’s leash in one hand and John’s oxygen tank in the other. I use one hand to guide John into the direction of the door while Boss pulls me to the door. It’s a funny scene.

Once at the car I get John in and walk over to get Boss in. He needs to be picked up into the car since I have a high SUV and he’s still too young to jump up. He doesn’t like getting into the car. Probably because the only time he gets in the car is to go to the vet. This trip will definitely be the final straw for him.

On the way into the vet office the strategy is the same but reversed. Johnny and I agreed he was working for 10 water balloons if he behaves in the office. When we arrive to the front door I opened it too soon and caught Boss’s paw. He made a loud dog crying sound at which time John chanted the F word at least 20 times. John does this anytime a dog barks or cries. I waited till John was done chanting before we walked inside. Once inside John was screaming at the dog to get down in a “level 4” voice. Level 2 is normal talking voice, which I encouraged him to use but this seemed useless. I began taking water balloons away, “9 balloons, 8 balloons, 7 balloons…”  With each balloon he decreased his sound level. But, it went right back up as soon as Boss became excited or jumpy. The receptionist at first was a little shocked by the noise but realized john is Autistic. I was so impressed with their acceptance and understanding. The one receptionist immediately put us into a room, hoping it would help John relax a little. In the room he became more anxious and aggravated with Boss’s level of excitement.

Finally, the vet came in to give me the estimate and papers to sign. We were out of there.

At this point, John lost all water balloons so we headed home to wait for bowling at 11am.

On the way out the door of the Vet John said, “Scared”

I asked him “Why were you scared?”

“Dr. Lestrud”

Dr. Lestrud is John’s Pulmonary Doctor. I believe John thought he was going to the doctor for himself.

When we got into the car I sat there for a few minutes trying not to cry. I wanted to cry because the people in the office were so nice. I wanted to cry because John thought he was going to the doctor. I wanted to cry because John didn’t feel safe and I didn’t prepare him for the Vet visit. I wanted to cry because this was just so overwhelming.

I cried because this was what I seen….

John at Vet

You wouldn’t event know how hard the last 15 minutes were by looking at him. He is in the car, safe and content. He knows he is going home where he is safe and happy.

How does a parent prepare their child for the hard world when they can’t get them out into it?