Category Archives: sensory processing disorder

Books, Goals, Guilt, and Gratitude

Shopping at amazon.com is too easy.  They don’t even put me through the hassle of entering the last four digits of the credit card I have on file (believe it or not, I don’t have it memorized).  I just click a few times, the order is placed, and as long as I spend twenty-five dollars (e-a-s-y), the shipping is free.

What did I buy this time?  Books. I bought “Making Babies: Stumbling Into Motherhood” by Anne Enright and “Confessions of a Scary Mommy: An Honest and Irreverent Look at Motherhood: The Good, The Bad and the Scary” by Jill Smokler.  I purchased both books for opposition research (ha!).  I’d like to write a book about motherhood, too, so it makes sense to see what others in the field are doing.

I read an interview online with Anne Enright and then read an excerpt from her book, which made me want to weep (happy weeping) because her writing is so brilliant and honest.  Jill Smokler is a mom who started a blog, built a brand and then wrote a book.  Now she’s buying cute book tour outfits, doing the morning talk show circuit, and probably shopping around Hollywood for a movie deal.  I’m sure she’s really nice and a great mom, but I kinda hate her.    (Jealous Mama alert!)  I just hope if there’s room in the world for a Scary Mommy, then there’s room for a Runaway Mama, too.

Just so you know, I bought both of these books in hardcover.  This Shopaholic Mama wasn’t going to wait around for paperback, and the Kindle versions weren’t much cheaper.  Lately, I’ve been reading books the old-fashioned way.  I still love the way a book feels in my hands, and besides that, my Kindle is getting old and I want a new one.  (Mike, if you’re reading, Mother’s Day is just around the corner.)

Here are the other books piled on my desk and bedside table just waiting for a lazy, rainy, kid-free, dish-free, laundry-free, blog-free day (i.e. never):

“How To Get Your Kid To Eat…But Not Too Much” by Ellyn Satter.  This book had promise until page four.  In talking about a young child’s early food experiences, Satter wrote:

“Very few adults would be willing to deliberately do something that would hurt a child’s feelings or lower her self esteem.  But that happens all the time in feeding.  It happens because adults have their own hangups about eating and play them out in the way they feed their children.” 

That was as far as I got with that book.  Go ahead, tell me I didn’t give it a chance, but I think I’m smart enough to know that I’ve reached the maximum limit of guilt that one Mama can handle.  Reading that passage brought me straight back to the baby food aisle where I would buy 20-30 jars of Earth’s Best baby food per week and subject Dylan to pureed spaghetti with cheese or vegetable beef pilaf.  He hated all of it, but I was a New and Isolated Mama, and I didn’t know what or how else to feed him.

“The Magician’s Assistant” and “The Patron Saint of Liars,” both by Ann Patchett.  My friend Colby, who works in publishing, sent me these books after a conversation we had about Patchett’s “Bel Canto,” which is one of the best books I’ve ever read.  I started “The Magician’s Assistant” a few months ago and it’s wonderful, but I got sidetracked by, well, motherhood.

“The Weird Sisters” by Eleanor Brown.  I don’t know much about this book, but I kept hearing about in the blogosphere, and I succumbed during a fierce shopaholic moment in Barnes and Noble.  I love buying books as much as I love buying $58 t-shirts at Anthropologie.  I’m not sure when I’ll read it.  Maybe after Riley goes to college.  That will be around 2027.

“Raising A Sensory Smart Child” by Lindsey Biel and Nancy Peske and “No Longer A Secret: Unique Common Sense Strategies for Children with Sensory Motor Challenges” by Doreit S. Bailer and Lucy Jane Miller.  Every time Dylan’s OT recommends a book, I buy it immediately.  Doing so gives me a sense of control over a situation of which I have none.  This is what happens when I try reading these books: (1) I get confused because sensory processing disorder is so freakin’ complicated and intangible to me, and (2) I cry.  I have a lot of guilt – still – about not diagnosing Dylan sooner. My sanity and emotional well-being depends on these books’ indexes occasionally being browsed but their pages rarely being read.

“The Space Between Us” by Thrity Umrigar.  I started reading this gem of a book because it was chosen for my next book club meeting.  I’m enjoying it every time I have a few minutes to read a few pages, but I have no babysitter the night of book club, so this one, unfortunately, might join the Ann Patchett books and “The Weird Sisters” and be read in about 15 years.

There are at least a dozen more books stacked on the lower shelf of my bedside table, but those are so far down on the queue that I’m not going to write about them (or think about them or look at them).  In fact, my 2012 gratitude journal is strategically resting on top of them.  That’s been gathering some dust lately, too.  Shit. Or, as I try to say around the kids, sugar snaps.

April 5, 2012 – I’m grateful for the abundance of books in my life…whether I read them or not.  I’m also grateful I had the chance to give two large bags of children’s books to my cleaning lady who is going to give them to her church. (ß Paying it forward!)

What books have you bought, read, not read, hid and or given away recently?

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Filed under books, food issues, gratitude, guilt, Jealous Mama, jealousy, sensory processing disorder, Shopaholic Mama, shopping

My Favorite Part of the Day

I started a family dinner ritual a little while ago in the hope of getting the boys to eat new food.  We haven’t had much any success yet, but we’ve developed a nice habit of talking about our day when we sit together.  The questions are always the same: What was your favorite part of the day?  What was your least favorite part of the day?

In the beginning, Dylan didn’t understand what “least favorite” meant.  He would say his favorite part of the day was playing with his friends and then he would say his least favorite part of the day was the same thing.  Riley didn’t get what any of it meant and would either repeat what Dylan said or smile and say, “Poopy pants.”

Eventually, Dylan understood that “least favorite” was different than “favorite.”  Then his answer would be something like: “My favorite part of the day was eating popsicles at school.  My least favorite part of the day was nothing.”  Nothing?  I guess life is good when you’re five.

Earlier this week, we had to runan errand in the afternoon that kept us in the car for a while, so that’s when we took turns talking about our day. Riley responded with his usual gobbledegook.  Dylan said his favorite part of the day was playing with his friends at school.  No surprise there.  Then, he said his least favorite part of the day was leaving school early.  It was the first time he expressed what “least favorite” really meant.

I haven’t written much about Dylan’ssensory processing issues lately.  For a while, it consumed me in a “least favorite” kind ofway.  Writing about it helped me and, I think, a few other readers out there, but I’m not sure it did much for Dylan.  This blog is an honest look at my life, but I want to make sure my kids’ privacy doesn’t become collateral damage (now or later) because of my desire to write about motherhood.  In the end, I decided to try to focus mywriting on other topics (there are so many!), like owls, holidays and peeing on trees.

But back to leaving school early…

Twice a week, I pick up Dylan from school an hour early to go to occupational therapy (OT) to work on his sensory issues.    There’s a waiting list for the coveted after school appointments, so until a later time slot opens up, I have to pull him from school.  Although he loves OT – it’s like having private playtime with the coolest toys on the planet – he doesn’t like leaving school. I don’t like having to do it either, but when I think about the positive changes we’ve seen in such a short period of time, I know we’re doing the right thing.

His listening skills have improved dramatically (except when he’s playing Lego Star Wars on the Xbox).  He’s more adventurous.  You should see him climb to the top of playground equipment and slide down (previously scary) tunnel slides with abandon.  He’s more confident and independent – “I can cross the street myself because I’m five!”  And here’s my favorite… He wears pants, long-sleeved shirts (with“Cars” or “Star Wars” graphics) and, if necessary, a jacket when it’s cold.  Look at what he wore to school one day this week…with a smile on his face!

We still have work to do (Operation Chicken 2012!) and I wish Dylan’s least favorite part of the day could always be “nothing,” but each time I witness him conquer a fear or try something new, I know exactly what I’m going to say at family dinner when it’s my turn to talk about my favorite part of the day.

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Filed under family dinner, Proud Mama, sensory processing disorder