My words are: pollen, allergies, last day, help, boxed wine, school. They were submitted by: http://notthatsarahmichelle.
I know exactly why I chose to homeschool him. There are reasons stacked upon reasons, and for the last year and a half it has mostly been a decision that I don’t question, but there are times like the last few weeks that I wonder exactly what kind of nut I must be.
Is that the key factor in good parenting? Wondering about your sanity?
Evan has ADHD, but I have chosen at this point not to put him on medication. Exercise before he works on schoolwork, frequent breaks for more exercise, tips and tricks, and some extra supplements have been the choice treatment so far, and most days that seems to work. Most. Certainly not all. There are days when he spaces out every lecture, hands in worksheets he never touched, can’t answer a single question about what the work involved that day, or finds a way to do anything and everything else besides what he has been assigned. I won’t lie; those days are fucking trying, and with both of us alternating being sick and it being the end of the year, they have happened a bit more frequently.
The fact that I have an ugly and severe case of generalized anxiety disorder doesn’t really help things either. The tough days are the days I question every little thing I do. If I am ruining him, if he will be fine and be able to still make something of himself, if I expect too much, push him too hard, make him feel loved… My head fills with worry and stress and questions and freaks and bends and shakes and I feel like everything I try to do crumbles in front of me.
Then I pull through it, recognize what’s going on for what it is, and I flip anxiety a double bird. Anxiety can eat a bag of dicks. Really. It’s enough to make a girl want to sit around in her pajamas watching shitty tv and drinking boxed wine.
There’s such a stigma with asking for help, with admitting you have a problem and need to lean on someone for awhile, so mostly I have kept this to myself trying to deal with it all, trying to find my own way.
Anxiety is a little like being obsessed with Justin Bieber. It’s a big deal for you and it affects your daily life in innumerable ways, but it’s absolutely horrible having to tell anyone about it unless you find someone else that’s obsessed with that little twatwaffle too.
By the way, I am absolutely not obsessed with Justin Bieber. Even my guilty pleasures would probably turn their noses up at that. But, if I were a closeted Bieleber, I’m fairly certain admitting so in public would be as painful as asking for help with the anxiety that often leaves me crippled by my own thoughts, unable to sleep, and wondering just what the fuck I am going to do with myself.
So here I am nearing the end of another week still with a fever having explained adding decimals for like the 60.45th time and hoping that maybe my pulse rate will drop below 90 some time before the a.m. so I can get in bed at a decent hour.
If it doesn’t I may just opt for whiskey instead of wine.
___________________________________________
It’s the season for pollen and allergies and apparently crippling sinus infections. For a little over a week now, I have had a raging fever and the type of pressure in my face that makes me feel like a balloon filled to nearly bursting. It’s been a snotty week, and it’s the end of the school year for Evan, so we have been a bit slack on things. I can’t exactly say that’s a great development as we edge closer and closer to the last day of the year because Evan is already a bit antsy like a caged animal when it comes to doing his schoolwork. I know exactly why I chose to homeschool him. There are reasons stacked upon reasons, and for the last year and a half it has mostly been a decision that I don’t question, but there are times like the last few weeks that I wonder exactly what kind of nut I must be.
Is that the key factor in good parenting? Wondering about your sanity?
Evan has ADHD, but I have chosen at this point not to put him on medication. Exercise before he works on schoolwork, frequent breaks for more exercise, tips and tricks, and some extra supplements have been the choice treatment so far, and most days that seems to work. Most. Certainly not all. There are days when he spaces out every lecture, hands in worksheets he never touched, can’t answer a single question about what the work involved that day, or finds a way to do anything and everything else besides what he has been assigned. I won’t lie; those days are fucking trying, and with both of us alternating being sick and it being the end of the year, they have happened a bit more frequently.
The fact that I have an ugly and severe case of generalized anxiety disorder doesn’t really help things either. The tough days are the days I question every little thing I do. If I am ruining him, if he will be fine and be able to still make something of himself, if I expect too much, push him too hard, make him feel loved… My head fills with worry and stress and questions and freaks and bends and shakes and I feel like everything I try to do crumbles in front of me.
Then I pull through it, recognize what’s going on for what it is, and I flip anxiety a double bird. Anxiety can eat a bag of dicks. Really. It’s enough to make a girl want to sit around in her pajamas watching shitty tv and drinking boxed wine.
There’s such a stigma with asking for help, with admitting you have a problem and need to lean on someone for awhile, so mostly I have kept this to myself trying to deal with it all, trying to find my own way.
Anxiety is a little like being obsessed with Justin Bieber. It’s a big deal for you and it affects your daily life in innumerable ways, but it’s absolutely horrible having to tell anyone about it unless you find someone else that’s obsessed with that little twatwaffle too.
By the way, I am absolutely not obsessed with Justin Bieber. Even my guilty pleasures would probably turn their noses up at that. But, if I were a closeted Bieleber, I’m fairly certain admitting so in public would be as painful as asking for help with the anxiety that often leaves me crippled by my own thoughts, unable to sleep, and wondering just what the fuck I am going to do with myself.
So here I am nearing the end of another week still with a fever having explained adding decimals for like the 60.45th time and hoping that maybe my pulse rate will drop below 90 some time before the a.m. so I can get in bed at a decent hour.
If it doesn’t I may just opt for whiskey instead of wine.
_____________________________________________
Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:
Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.com/2016/05/use-your-words-change-is-chocolate-cake.html
Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm.com
Not That Sarah Michelle http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com
Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/2016/05/pig-on-pig-take-2-bacon-wrapped-pork.html
The Diary of an Alzheimer’s Caregiver http://www.thediaryofanalzheimerscaregiver.com/blog.html
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy http://dinoheromommy.com/2016/05/13/saving-money-with-freezer-meals/
My Brain on Kids http://mybrainonkids.net
The Bergham Chronicles http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com
Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot.com
Climaxed http://climaxedtheblog.blogspot.com
Confessions of a part time working mom http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2016/05/use-your-words-jump-rope.html
The Angrivated Mom http://www.angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/
