City Mouse and Country Mouse

I am a city girl. I grew up in a city. I lived in a huge apartment building. I took a taxi, walked and took public transportation to school (depending on my mood).  I love concrete, art museums, and being surrounded by people who don't know me and don't want to. Really, I do.

But there is something out here in the mountains of West Virginia that I love too. The clean, mountain air at 3000 feet makes it easy for me to do things that I struggle with at home. Like hike, sit outside and enjoy the breeze, or ride a horse.

Yes, I am riding a fucking horse! And I like it! I started for the kids, of course. Sydney Beth and Jonny love to ride, and it's good for them. The stables here are awesome, and the lady who runs the joint treats my kids like her own. I don't have to worry about a disinterested teenager being in charge. Because of my allergies, I still can't wallow about in the barn, and I'm not too disappointed about that. But I can ride, and I like it! And by golly, I think I'm getting good at it.

I love sitting tall on the saddle and watching the scenery. I love being in the back of a trail ride and watching my kids gain skills and independence as they ride. I love working on my posture, talking to the horse, arguing with the horse. Yes, I love a horse with a little bit of sass. Some things don't change.

Last week, I was riding up a hill with the kids and the guide. My cell phone fell out of pocket (county mouse rule: cell phones go in the front pocket). I stopped the horse, got off the horse, got the phone, and got back on that horse! All by my damn self! I was so proud of myself I nearly burst. And the kids could hardly stand it.

I celebrated that evening by catching a toad for the kids to look at before setting him free again. I screamed the whole time, but I caught that motherfucker. Smores and a campfire were to follow.

Don't tell anyone though, I have a rep to protect.

The Battles

So, life with Jonny has always been about struggle. Not huge, earth shattering struggles, but struggles about things like clothes, shoes and underpants. Struggles that make you want to laugh and cry and pull out your hair. And cry in the school parking lot. If that was an Olympic Event, you'd be looking at the gold medalist.

But life is getting better. Kindergarten is going well for Jonny. He is making friends, getting help with speech and reading. He is wearing the right shoes and pants and not bursting into flames. Victory.
So am I still waiting for the battles?

Granted, we still have hiccups. Like a couple days ago when it was Pajama day for his class. I hate Fucking Pajama Day. Jonny didn't understand why it would ever be OK to wear PJ's to school, so he skipped it. He didn't want to go to school at all, but after 3 days of frustration and asking the teacher and counselor to intervene, he went to PJ day. Fucking Pajama Day. Why can't it just be easy?

But are my expectations too low because I am so used to viewing socks and underpants as a victory?
Today we had the first ever conference for Jonny where we didn't talk about clothes or his sensory issues. He is reading, he is doing great. Sometimes he doesn't try very hard. But all in all, great.
I left that place feeling like a fricking hero.

First. I didn't cry.
Second, he's improving exponentially.
Victory, right?

Then my husband points out that if it was out daughter, we would jump on her for not living up to her potential.
And he's right.
I really hate it when he's right.
So now the focus has to shift.
Clothes and shoes are no longer a battle, because we know he can do it.
Writing is no longer a battle because we know he can do it.

So now I have to expect him to do what he can, rather than letting him get away with doing less because I am waiting for him to blow up when he doesn't like it, or when it doesn't feel comfortable.
Fuck.
Am I coddling him?
How do I stop?
No idea.

I am just going to take it one day at a time. I know he's an awesome kid. I just have to let him be awesome, and stop expecting the meltdown. The meltdown may never happen.
I hope. I hope.
And hey, he's still wearing underpants!!!