Proof of Heaven: Read it!

My friend, M.C. Hackett, wrote a book, and it rocks.
First, I will talk about the book.
It's called Proof Of Heaven.
You will cry.  You will smile. You will hug your kids. You will call your brother.
As a mom, and as someone who was a relatively sickly kid at points, I HATE books about sick kids.
I hate movies about sick kids. It just makes me really uneasy.
This is a book about a sick kid. But not like the others.
I enjoyed this one. I was really invested in the characters. Each one. I loved all 4 of them. They were all flawed, even little Colm, sort of, but aren't we all? That's what I liked about them. No one was perfect.

POH is about the mom, and the sweet boy, and the doctor, and the brother. It's about trust. It's about hope. And Faith. And familial love.
And sticking with people even though they screw up. Or don't think like you.
It's about getting over yourself. About forgiving yourself. About getting over your shit and moving on.
At least that's what I got from it.
It made me think about the challenges we all have as parents to get out of our own comfort zones in order to provide the best for our kids. In my case it's learning to parent a kid with sensory issues a little differently than my "normal" child. But this book helped give me perspective. It really did. We all bring our own crap into life, and that's fine. We just have to let go sometimes and believe. I think that's what this book is saying.
And I really enjoyed it.
I'm not a reviewer, so I don't have to go into the plot.
So get the damn book. It's really good.
Nuff said.

Now, about the author.
Mary is my friend.
I dare say we are better friends now than we were in college. Thank you, Facebook.
She has not always had it easy. But she is one tough, smart cookie.  She's not only a survivor, to survive is a quality, but to thrive in adversity is a virtue. Mary is a thriver. She is one Hell of a mom to two very cool kids, one who is remarkably similar to my precious Jonny. She is smart, and funny, really, really strong, and she deserves success. 
So buy the book, please.

Kindergarten Blues Part 2

Yesterday was teacher conference day.
Jonny is doing wonderfully. He is adapting. He is making friends. He is at or above grade level on all of his skills. He is not the best at holding a pencil (he doesn't like the feel) but he is going to get some help for that.  All in all this was a very good meeting. But it was all overshadowed by one thing: fucking clothes!

After all the wonderful things said, the teacher suggested that now may be the time to get Jonny out of his pajama pants.
WHAT the Hell? He doesn't wear pajama pants to school. I know, becuase I spend 2 hours every morning in a mildly regimented routine getting that boy ready for school.
I felt like I got punched in the gut.

You mean the striped organic cotton play pants that I get out of the Swedish catalog that cost $40 a pair and are his favorite things ever?
Yep, those.
Fucking perfect.

Turn out they LOOK like PJ's (and they do), so the kids were starting to wonder why Jonny gets to wear PJ's and they don't.
And in all this time of trying to keep Jonny comfortable, happy, motivated about school and what he wear and how it affects his day, I never thought of what other 5 year olds thought. And I don't think Jonny gives a shit either.
But I get it. I do. In my brain.
 He is doing great. He is making friends. He is adapting. We don't want what he wears to get in the way of that.

However, on an emotional level, this is my baby and it is hard enough getting the boy in clothes! Who gives a shit?

If he were a girl, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. Because she would wear a matching top, we would call them "leggings" and everyone would think she was so stylish. That is the part that pisses me off. A lot.

The other part that completely threw me off was that I really thought we were doing great. I had the boy in gym shoes for crying out loud! And underpants for God's sake! I am mom of the fucking year!

So yeah, I broke down crying, uncontrollably, in the middle of the school. I had failed Jonny as a parent. I thought we were thriving, and I was missing something. Again. A fucking gain!

Luckily, my awesome husband was there. He reminded me that we are making huge strides. Jonny is reaching all the expectations set for him, and life is good.
We just have to get the kid out of the stripey patns so kids won't think he's the jammies guy.

So we go home, I reapply my makeup, and we talk to Jonny.
He is awesome. His friends and his teacher love him.
And now is the time for bnig boy pants without stripes.

Of course, he cries. he loves stripes! He loves his soft pants!
But, I buck up. Instead of telling him what I want to tell him, that to Hell with what other people think he can wear whatever makes him happy, I go with the mom stuff.
I tell him we can go right now to Target (a magical place) with Sydney, his personal stylist.
We can pick out cool, soft pants that are good for school. We can pick out matching shirts with animals or characters. And if he is awesome, there will be a toy.
By golly, the boy can have whatever he wants.

Victory. We go to the store, and Syd and I pick out awesome pants for him. Some are even soft, comfy fleece (and that is another rant, because if they had graphics on them and no pockets they would be called jammies, but we'll go with it).  He loves them. We pick out cool shirts to complete the "big boy look". Both kids get toys. I get a chocolate bar, Damn right.

He is happy. He is adapting.  He will make it. And so will I.

We come home and have a fashion show for the granparents. We put the clothes away, and I hide the stripey cotton pants.

And I am DONE with the Swedish catalog. Bastards!

Kindergarten Blues

We have made it through the first month of school.
It was touch and go there for a while, on all fronts.

First, it is no secret that I was a nervous wreck about Jonny going to kindergarten. What if there are too many kids for him? What if he can't hold a pencil and has a breakdown? What if the transitions are too short and he flips out? What if someone he doesn't know tries to touch him? He will lose it!
And the big question? Will that boy ever get on the school bus?

Well, the first day came and went, and we survived. News to mom: get over yourself. He is a good kid. He will make it.

He has been on the school bus every damn day since the first day. Holy shit. He is growing up! He is adapting! Who the heck knew?
He did have a close talker incident in class, but his teacher saw him shutting down, and she removed him from the situtation. Holy shit! A teacher who knows and anticpates my kids' needs! See, it pays to be inthe PTA. Just saying...
And that little boy LOVES the rules of school. He loves to tell us during dinner what the different protocols are. This boy was made to be an assistant principal.
Another thing that kept me up t nigt was gym.The PE teachers wrote a note to every child about the uniform for PE, which includes gym shoes (sneakers to my eastern friends).
Holy crap. It's a miracle the boy wears underpants, now you wat him to wear SHOES! What's next? A suit of armor?
Now, I knew thiswas coming. I have been working on gym shoes. We ever signed the boy up for running club this year, so he does own gym shoes. He even wears them. Sometimes. On REALLY good days. But with consistency? Because someone else says so? Fat chance.

The day after I got the note I marched int the gym to talk to the teacher. I started to plead Jonny case. He maywer crocs. He hs sensory issues. Please let the boy play. The teacher told me no problem. His real concern was the older girls who don't like to wear appropriate footwear, not my angel. Yahoo.

I think we may actually make it.