It's My Pity Party, and I'll Cry if I Want To...

Ever get the feeling that life has swallowed you up, and left nothing but the expectations and needs of those around you? That you have ceased to exist, and have become instead what others want/need you to be? Ever get the feeling that you were going to write a blog post so overly dramatic, so self-absorbed and full of cliches that you wanted to vomit?

Me too. So here's mine.

Today is one of those days where I am feeling all of the above. I spend my days existing for the needs of my life. Consider:

Go to work, spend eight or ten hours listening, advising and supporting my clients. Each of them need something from me - desperately - and depending on if they know what it is or not, my job will be either difficult, or virtually impossible. Every minute I am with a client, I am on - completely out of myself and my own needs, and thinking only of what's best for the client. I am very good at my job, which makes it so much harder on me as a person.

Spend those few minutes between clients fielding texts from hubby, daughter, son's workers - can I go to the movies? When will you be home? Where are my sneakers? Can you call son's therapy office for important info? Please pick up milk and diapers on your way home?

Finally, a couple of days off! I lounge in bed for an extra few hours - gotta get some "me" time somewhere - then back on the mommy/wife/daughter/clinician bus. Calls to insurance companies, medical providers, son's own social workers. Laundry. Scrubbing toilets. Food shopping. Reschedule client's appointments - "I can't come in Monday, I'll just come by on Thursday". "Uh, no, I'm not in on Thursdays". "Well, what do I do? My schedule isn't flexible". Oh, so mine is supposed to be? You're not the only one with a schedule, sweets.

Pick up autism-related clutter around house, don't even think twice about the lollipops stuck to our sheets and the army of Disney characters lined up on the kitchen counter, nor the fact that we are still buying diapers for our 10-year-old. Replace batteries in the latest assistive communication device that son may or may not use. It's OK, the mom of an autistic child doesn't blink at stuff like this.

Field phone calls from Mom and brothers about the latest medical crises that seem to befall only our mom - she's a trouper, and stronger than she thinks, but she needs our support every step of the way.

Finally get some time to be "me" - escape a little. Read a book (my passion). Watch the Mets (lose). Read some of my favorite blogs, Tweeters. Try not to feel guilty that I am not spending the time with my family - they need me. *Sigh*

OK, so I need time to be me. Do things that I like, not just things that are good for all of us. Socialize with people I like, not just those that are involved in my life. Try to plan a dinner with some of my favorite moms - all are busy, living their life as I do. Discuss a possible Mets road trip with some fellow bloggers/tweeters - good chance it'll fall apart. Someday I'll meet these funny, bright, passionate women. Maybe a trip with just hubby and myself? Well, who's gonna watch the kids?

Oh, forget it. Money's tight, anyway, tuition's due. Car needs repairs. Backyard needs re-sodding.

Ok, end of pity party. Don't get me wrong, I love my life. I adore/cherish my husband and kids, and I love that they need me. Same with my job. I created this life, with eyes wide open, and don't regret it for a minute. Once in a while, though, I'd like the freedom to be just me.

Till next time...

"And The Ships Will Escort Him In"...

Ten years ago today, hubby and I welcomed our beautiful son into the world. Amazing how it happened, but that's another story. Suffice it to say at one point we were sure he would make his entrance on the New Jersey Turnpike. We made it to Columbia Presbyterian in time, though (barely) and there he was. Perfectly formed, screaming like a banshee, and we were immediately in love.

Late the next day, July 4th, we drove our new family home. Big sister was in awe of the new addition, and a little apprehensive of her place in our family setup (not to worry, we assured her, she was still our baby girl). As we made our way over the George Washington Bridge, a flotilla of ships passed underneath - huge sailboats, war ships; all flying the flag proudly to honor our country's birthday. As we stared in awe at the sight, hubby commented "See that, Chris? You're a special baby. All these ships came out just for you."

Yes, he is special indeed. Happy birthday, love.