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.

Confessions of a Softball Widow

Anyone who knows my husband knows his passion for men's softball. Did I say passion? I meant obsession. Almost as soon as he stopped playing baseball as a teenager he started playing in the local men's modified-pitch leagues, which were your typical Sunday afternoon beer leagues. I played the part of supportive wife, videotaping his games (with the 15lb camera - this was the pre-digital age) and making nice with the other wives & girlfriends. One league soon turned into three, and he began to play three to four times per week. Then the travel teams started. Again, I didn't mind so much as we had no children, and I was able to go with him to such exotic locations as Salisbury, MD and York, Penn. Woohoo!

I really did enjoy watching the games, as a former player myself, and cheered right along with them as they won. I loved the fact that those teams were mostly cops and lawyers, with the cops generally being the better athletes (of course...). Some of SI's more illustrious legal minds (including a certain pair of brothers who were well on their way to becoming famous & successful sports agents) fighting it out with teams that boasted felons and slackers...fun for all!

Then the kids came, and accompanying him on road trips became tortuous. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, with a child running a fever and screaming for home? Do that a few times and it's time to give up the traveling.

So for the past few years, he spends his summer weekends off with the boys, and I am home...with the kids, laundry, cleaning, etc. Not that I'm bitter. Not at all. What I've done is developed some strategies for managing our time alone, and even enjoying the peace of not having hubby around for a few days. Here are a few of my favorites:

1. Play the martyr card...my dear, wonderful in-laws will ask about my weekend plans...I mournfully state that hubby will be away. Dad will exclaim "Again??" and immediately offer to babysit so I can get out.

2. Shop. Nothing like spending hubby's money to give you some measure of revenge...

3. Guilt. "But hubby, you've been gone all summer, and I was so lonely...I think I need some time away also...a weekend with the girls at the outlet malls should make me feel better..."

4. Enjoy the quiet. Nothing like getting the kids to bed and realizing there's no TV on, nobody talking to me about the team's latest New Zealander pitcher...I get into bed with a good book and exhale...

I love that hubby has something in his life that he loves, is good at and has become famous for (a reporter from a national, mainstream publication once chased him for two years to get his story). He comes home to us happy and satisfied. It's worth it. Mostly.

Go Gremlins!

Disney Dining...or...Can We Get Chicken Tenders There??

Some time ago, I had seen this post on the Disney Blog about dining, which made me think of all our experiences in Disney's wonderful restaurants.

If you've been to Disney, you know that getting reservations for table-service dining can be difficult, as the restaurants fill up quickly, especially those that offer character dining. You need to call far in advance of your visit to get the seating you want, especially if you are visiting during a peak season. Daddy Disney has this down to a science, to the point that, six months before our trips, he gets on the phone with Disney Dining and schedules nearly all our meals. We end up debating for a few hours where to eat, with him pressuring us all the way. "Hurry! These spots aren't going to last long! Crystal Palace or Hollywood & Vine?? I've got to call tomorrow!" Good thing for him, otherwise we'd be eating in counter-service spots the whole trip...

Our list is comprised of a mix of kid-friendly and more elegant, expensive restaurants. Our boy loves the character spots the most, and doesn't care about the food, as long as it's chicken tenders and fries (he's taken the whole autistic-obsessive eating thing to a new level). Luckily, Disney's restaurants are pretty flexible, and if chicken nuggets aren't on the menu, the staff will go to the nearest restaurant/food court and get them from their kitchen. That does not happen in NY restaurants. In fact, we've only been denied once, and that was by Shula's (in the Swan & Dolphin). We actually had to beg for french fries, and that was only because we saw someone else eating them, after we had been told they could not accomodate us.

Our list takes into account other factors besides the food, such as location, theme and service, and is in no particular order:

Cinderella's Royal Table - Magic Kingdom. My personal favorite. You're eating in Cinderella's Castle, what more could you want? The food is great too, as are the Princess and her mice.

Whispering Canyons Cafe - Wilderness Lodge. Our daughter's favorite, the wait staff there is of the "insult and scold the customers" type and she just loves when her dad gets yelled at for drinking his milkshake too fast. Food is fair.

Jiko - Animal Kingdom Lodge. African specialities in a gorgeous setting. Hubby is not an adventurous eater and was not looking forward to it. He found a steak, though, that he just loved. Evening saved! Their "Zebratinis" (similar to a white chocolate martini) pack a real punch, as I found out the hard way. Food was terrific.

Crystal Palace - Magic Kingdom. The character buffet, right in the heart of MK, is hugely popular (and not because of the food, which is passable). Pooh and friends dance and sing, and that makes this one our boy's all-time favorite.

Yachtman's Steakhouse - Boardwalk. The first restaurant we went to, on our first trip to Disney after our daughter was born. Wonderful steaks, white glove service and classy ambience. Perfect without the kids...!

Teppan Edo - Japan, Epcot. Hubby had been there numerous times (without me, sadly) until our last trip, when we snuck out without the kids. Very good hibachi, they also have regular table service. Fun eating with strangers, and the chefs are reliably funny & skilled.

Narcoosees - Grand Floridian. Located right on the lagoon, the views are spectactular. We spent our 20th wedding anniversary there with our kids and in-laws, and the food was amazing. Perfect view of the MK fireworks, if you can get a reservation during the show.

The Plaza - Magic Kingdom. The little restaurant behind Edy's Ice Cream, just off Main Street. Really good sandwiches and burgers in a quaint, quiet little room.

Grand Floridian Cafe - Grand Floridian. Great food in a quiet corner of the gorgeous Grand Floridian lobby. Unpretentious but elegant, we love the great burgers and their pork chops are amazing!

Coral Reef - Epcot. Odd choice for us as we don't eat seafood! The restaurant is placed alongside the enormous aquarium that makes up the Sea pavillion, and watching the fish, sharks and rays swim by while you dine is an experience our boy loves. The non-seafood choices are terrific, and we are told, so is the seafood! The last time we were there, we requested our usual chicken tenders before being seated. The manager came out and asked if they needed to be prepared a certain way, then gave us the best table in the house when we explained about our son. Now that's how to care for your customers!


There are many more restaurants we are longing to try, and that may make it onto future lists...California Grill, Victoria & Albert's (may have to take out a second mortgage for that one) Le Cellier, Citrico's, The Wave...and the list goes on.

What are your favorites?

Mets Fans as Masochists Part 2

The other night, hubby and I managed to sneak out to the movies (thanks to our girl watching the boy). Halfway through, my phone rings. It's a client in crisis. I spent some time talking to her before advising her to go to the ER. Never an easy thing to recommend; the psych ERs in our area are less than stellar. In this case, there was no choice. So, upset and worried, I got into the car with hubby for the ride home. He puts on the radio (which is usually tuned to sports station WFAN) and we proceed to hear all about the Mets' tough loss earlier that night. My mood went from upset and worried to positively black. Any sane person would've turned off the radio at this point, right? Forget all about it, get on with life. We're Mets fans, though, and sane does not apply. We had to listen to all that went wrong during the game, analyze what Jerry did wrong, moan about the lack of clutch hitting (same old story). We allowed ourselves to wallow in the torture of the Mets season thus far, which is basically the same as seasons past - the talent is there, but is not performing up to expectations.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Because we are Mets fans, that's why. It's what we do. Arrugghhh...
Till next time!

What's in MickeyMets' Handbag?

Some of the blogs I enjoy visiting are written by people I have little, if anything, in common with. That's the beauty of the internet, in my opinion; it enables you to get a glimpse into the lives of people you probably never meet in real life. One of these blogs is jewish girl in wasp's clothing which is written by an adorable 25 year-old living in Manhattan. Our lives couldn't be more different (except that we both live in NYC) but I find her funny, honest and entertaining. She had written a post a while back detailing the contents of her handbag, and I drooled over not only the handbag (a Prada) but the clean organization of the contents.

I have been bragging repeatedly over the above bag that my sweetie gave me for my birthday (after I obsessed about it for months, he finally caved and bought it for me to shut me up, I think) and as I dug through it today to find something, I was suddenly appalled by the difference between JGIWC's bag and my own. My only excuse is that I have kids. Is that a good enough reason to have bits of chocolate, crumpled receipts, broken pens and hair clips littering the bottom? It'll have to be.


Among the items cluttering up this beautiful purse:


The (left) arm from the Iron Man 2 figure courtesy of Burger King's kiddie meal;

A crushed, sprinkle-covered chocolate pretzel (wrapped) that my daughter didn't want and I am saving for a chocolate emergency;

A ticket stub from last years' Mets vs Cardinals game at Citifield;

Bank deposit slip from February 2008;

An expired Claritin tablet (could've used that yesterday for allergies);

A note from son's occupational therapist recommending a workbook I've never been able to find;

Straws;

Empty lip balm;

Mickey Mouse wallet & makeup case (are you seeing a trend here?)

Name and address of a professional organization that I will contact and join... someday...soon! I swear!

A coupon for paper towels

Oh, and the other thing JGIWC and I have in common - Starbucks napkins!

Till next time!

The Birthday Post

Remember when you were a kid, and your birthday meant a day full of celebrations and special treats? Cupcakes in class, birthday punches from your friends, your locker decorated by your girls?

Being a grown up means none of that. Being a grownup means you don't get a day off from work (yes I'll be at work for 10 hours, seeing 11 clients) and you don't get to dress down, as daughter will be able to next week on her birthday (few things excite her as much as not having to wear her uniform to school - not that I blame her). It's not all bad, though. Being a grownup does mean that I can choose to sleep in before work, treat myself to Starbucks, and skip the laundry for a day. I'll take my little presents where I can get them, thank you very much.

I do also get a trip to Citifield for Autism Awareness Day. First game for us of the year! Could I ask the Mets to give me a win? PLEASE??? One 8 game win streak does not a winning season make, guys.

So as I tend to do every year, now is the time I look back on my 40+ years (not that many +'s, mind you) and see where I stand with myself. You know - the regrets, the accomplishments, etc. Sort of a yearly performance review. This year I'll do it here, to give my hubby more ammunition to make fun of me with!

Added to the crows feet around eyes - check

Grey hair multiplying - check

Added some interesting medical diagnoses to list already in progress - check

It's OK, I've earned it all...

So much for the physical achievements! Onto the professional...

Learned that the requirements for the state certification I worked so hard for 15 years ago (not to mention the very difficult, expensive master's degree I needed to obtain) have changed. I am no longer able to practice independently, and must be appropriately supervised. So I go from being the supervisor at my last position to the supervisee at current one. Thank you, NYS Board! I can't wait to work another two years, making little money, then take another certification test. Not that it's all bad, I love my current job and my supervisors are among the best in the field, as well as great to work with. So it's all good. Really.

Watching my baby brother, who entered my field in part because of me, far surpass me professionally and be well on his way to the doctorate I always wanted so badly. And being surprised to realize I am nothing but proud of him, and am OK with the choices I made - having a family - which kept me from doing the same.

Learning that it's OK to ditch a job where respect, fair pay and reasonable responsibilities are not in the employee's handbook.

And how about some personal growth!

Does this happen after age 40? My professional knowledge and personal experience says yes. So I am now at the point on my life where I can be open to new friendships (including some blogger/twitter ones!) and can better appreciate and participate in old ones. I can also appreciate where I am now, and can congratulate myself on being a survivor - of raising a profoundly disabled child, of living with and loving a law enforcement officer during some of the most horrible times in this city's history, of watching someone you love dearly battle cancer twice, and of losing a parent, close friends, and my youth. I have become an activist, a fundraiser and a parent of a teenager (I think the parenting a teen thing is the hardest!). I am a role model and a concerned citizen, a writer and a student. Wow.

And yet, sometimes I still wonder what I'm gonna be when I grow up...

Oh, and I can't forget - I am a Mets survivor, too. They haven't killed me yet, and my fandom is hanging tough.

Onto the next year - wonder what this one will bring?!?