The Never Normal

Jonah was in a happy mood on Sunday, and I caught a lot of it on camera – and video.

Tooth brushing hilarity

He’s 14 now and sometimes the teenager in him shows through:

He goes straight for the fridge & freezer and leaves both doors open while he browses

Always with his hoodie up, yo

After car ride Jonah gently took my wrist, then his daddy’s, and led us both into the bedroom and the big blue bed. “Quiet time, Boo?  Want to be in the middle?”

Yes, with daddy on one side and me on the other, both of us curved in, with Andy’s arm draped over Boo.   Even as he turns his head on the pillow to face his father, he reaches a monkey-arm behind him and guides my hand to rest on his little hip.  Thus parentally cocooned, Boo rests – a real rest – not for 15 seconds but for several minutes.  I half-expect him to slip his thumb into his mouth, then realize I have no idea how long it’s been since he sucked his thumb, then realize he doesn’t suck his thumb at all anymore.  To the best of my knowledge, no one ever cajoled or convinced him to quit — he just grew out of it, maybe.

His resulting buck-toothed smile is no less cute for having been shaped by thumb sucking.  I may be the only one who thinks so, but then again I sucked my thumb too (well past toddler-hood).

I adore this photo of him, his two front teeth barely peeking out and his blind eye covered by the hoodie:

I love his expression & sweet, innocent face

After quiet time, Jonah paced the kitchen while my mom and Andy talked politics and I urged Andy to do his Bernie Sanders’ impression (which is usually even better than what you’ll hear in this video.  This little video snippet cracks me up every time, though.

So then I decided to have a little fun with my right-wing mother. In the kitchen, I taught Jonah to chant “Bernie, Bernie, Bernie,” then I ushered her in and filmed this:

Even my mom couldn’t help but laugh.

Clinton, Trump, and Bernie were all here in Albany this week ahead of Tuesday’s primary, but just I’m not a crowd of hyper people kind of gal.

‘Twas a good day in the land of the Boo.

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Home sick today from the full-time gig.  Stomach sick.  Still doing the part-time gig too, and it looks like it’ll be another 4 weeks before that’s done.  Talk about famine to feast – for two years I quit full-time work altogether, and now I’ve got two jobs and work 7 days a week.  I’m exhausted, and going through lots of changes.

Physical, too – a whole new territory of middle-aged spread.   It’s driven me to distraction because 75% of the weight has settled in my stomach, while my arms and legs are still thin.  I’ve lost muscle tone and strength and I’m too tired to do anything but change my diet – I “diagnosed myself” with gut-yeast (where it’s likely just laziness and middle age) and bought all this healthy crap to eat, which seems to have messed with my digestive system.

And whereas I used to be considered skinny (at 5’7″ and 116 or so), I’ve grown out of all my clothing except my hippie skirts with elastic band tummies (and thank God I have a lot of those).  I’m 140 pounds, seemingly overnight, but likely over the course of 5 months or so now.  I don’t know how to deal with it and I’m freaked out that it freaks me out.

In fact all kinds of things have been freaking me out, not the least of which is the uncertainty of Boo’s future placement coupled with his new, relatively stable behaviors.  I think the decrease in behaviors and the success of the Clozaril  lulls Andy and me into a kind of complacency, but I’m not sure what would be preferable.  Constant vigilance?  No way.  I’m strung so tight lately I’d snap.  Maybe I should be researching the four residential schools to which the district sent referrals.  I don’t want to.  I just can’t.

And I owe apologies to all of you who’ve reached out to me these past few months without an answer. (I have 10 pages of unanswered e-mails – just checked).  I so appreciate the fact there are many people who care how Boo and I are doing.  I appreciate it more than you know.  Some days it’s what keeps me going, the knowing that so may people really care.

I’m sorry I’m a shitty communicator.  Right now I go days without even turning on the computer – partly because I type all day.  I’m like a stretched rubber band and at the same time (paradoxically?) too weary and drained.  Too tired, too tight.  Tight like it seems I’ll never be able to truly relax ever again.

Relax my mind, yes…I can still do that most times.  But my body seems made of metal rods and taut, evertight muscles. Shoulders perpetually raised, jaw always tight, TMJ in full effect.  I feel broken, done-in.  My heart beats rabbit-like and skittishly, and bedtime is the best time of day, hands-down.  I’m feeling on the decline, and it can’t help that menopause is hovering.  It’s a regular pity party over here.

But not to worry.  I’ll rally when the springtime truly comes – it’s stalling this year after a record-breakingly mild winter.  Ah, the humanity!  We got more snow this past Monday (April 4th) than in the entirety of the 2015-2016 winter season.  And when I’m back to a 40-hour a week work schedule, I’ll be able to exercise more and moderate my diet (instead of the dietary upheaval I attempted) and I’ll post and type and e-mail.  It feels good to write.  I forget, sometimes, how good it feels.

I deleted my Facebook account on January 1, but miss so many people with whom I communicated and kept in touch.  That’s the part of Facebook I wish I could still have.  But I can’t un-see things seen there and I find that, in many cases, ignorance really is bliss.  I can’t stop myself from going to pages I don’t want to see and clicking on things I ought not to click on.

Boo is doing well, on the whole.  His aggressions are still fewer and farther between, but not increasingly so or mitigated completely, as we’d really like to see.  But then they’re still bringing his dosage of Clozaril up very slowly, and things don’t happen overnight.  My wish-upon-a-star is a Jonah living completely free from aggressions for the rest of his life.  The reality isn’t there yet, but I’m grateful for what we’ve got and where we’ve gotten.

I’ll take a new batch of photos to share.  Jonah was good on Easter and got to see beloved train, which was a sweet bonus, but I didn’t take many pics.  Most of the time now he doesn’t want me to, and I’m not out to piss him off.

Time to go — I’m making it to my 2nd job, at any rate, and feeling more refreshed for all the extra sleep I got.  Thanks for the love.  May it come back to you a thousandfold!

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