House of A Writer

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

Surviving, Thriving and needing a #Friendship Revolution

I’ve been struggling lately on being a friend and making friends. With being a friend because I’ve allowed judgement to cloud my vision and heart. Making friends because it’s been easier to stay home when I’m dealing with a cranky preschooler, and chronic pain. Friendships have never been a tough reality for me before now. But add in my age, job transfers, having a child with special needs I found my struggle is real. Plus wanting to hang out in my Netflix pants than be social is a chore. I’ve moved around a lot when I was younger between my parents, Grandparents, and older sibling. I survived all that because I was relatively close by. Except when I moved five provinces away and was the new kid on the block and going to a new school. 

Every town I’ve lived in I’ve been blessed to connect with the like minded people. I still have a very strong connection with the Moms that I meant when I just had one child. We met, supported, and fell in love with each other and our children, on this journey through Motherhood. I know they’re only a phone call, text, or email message away. And we text regularly so we can keep each other in the loop of our lives. I’m happily married Mom of two and my husband gets transferred a lot. In fact this our fourth move as couple and the third for our children.

 Why is it so hard to make friends? I live in a city and not everyone is a stay at home Mom that I do encounter. And some work full time and I only see them at play groups on their days off. Recently I attended a gathering that I read about on Facebook. I didn’t know a soul there but I put on my brave pants and went anyways. I ended up having a great time and finding out that the hostess only lived thirty minutes away from me in my prior residence. 

Now I’m happy to say I’ve made a friend and we have a social meet group where we can post events that are happening or request a get together. I have Mom friends that I’ve met at playgroups, now I’m befriending young married couples. I’ve connected with a Mom who’s son is best friends with my oldest. It’s been wonderful as her youngest is close in age to my own. The one thing that’s ironic is the majority of friendships I’ve made have originated online or in my reality have taken a long time to develop. 

Why is it so hard for me to make friends? I’ve been lonely for a long time and I found myself searching out old high school friends and reuniting with them. It’s been great to reminisce about the good old days and meet their families. They’re very busy so we connect when it’s meant to be. I joined a theatre group these people became my family. We spent two days a week together learning each other’s names, faces, and lines in the play. Come performance time I was with them 4 days a week plus performances on weekends. Now I never hear from them, no numbers were exchanged, only one Facebook friendship requested. I asked myself why is it so hard to make friends now at my age? 

I came to the conclusion that I needed to start a friendship revolution. While I was lonely and spending late nights crying, reading, and writing on social media that I would start to connect with people online. What I found was lonely people with insomnia like me. Through my blog I started to connect with my readers and form friendships. Wonderful, loving supportive people that became my tribe. I refer to them as my bunker family that Punk Rock Papa originated. as a safe place to express our thoughts, share our pages, blogs, and respect for another. I even met two of them as I found they lived close by, and one visit still pending. Even though I haven’t met most of them I have formed a kinship with a kindred soul bond. 

We reach out with love, support, and kindbess, by reading each other’s blog and frequenting each other’s pages. We haven’t sat together in a coffee shop, or passed each other by on the street. But we’ve shared stories of family’s, our children’s successes, and our own private pain. I don’t believe that online friendships originated on social media aren’t real. I never discount the amazing Mama’s and Papa’s that I’m blessed to have in my life. They’ve got me through sleepless nights, early mornings, misbehaving kids, and temperamental doctors. I shared more with them then my own family at times! Why you may ask? Because I could, the door was open and a mutual respect torch was passed from one to another. 

Now I’m very proactive about getting my needs met. I need social interaction in my life whether it’s online or in person. And I recently started to attend some support groups and a parenting family workshop each week. I’ve learned a lot about myself as I’ve shared my life, loves, and struggles. I’ve learned that no parent is an island and we all need love, understanding, and acceptance. It’s what we all crave in life with a great dose of respect on top of this social sundae.  

Since I moved a majority of my friendships are online. Not that I haven’t tried getting to know people in person without a screen. The interactions were either short lived or forgotten about. Recently I attended a support group and all of us Mom’s had the subject matter in common. We talked for over an hour after the meeting ended, sharing stories and getting to know one another. Each commenting that we were lonely and looking for friendships. Then we all went our separate ways without numbers exchanged or a promise to friend each other on Facebook. It was the strangest thing to ever happen to me. I appreciated the conversation but not one person said lets get together again, except me that waved goodbye and said you can find me on Facebook and my blog. 

Life in the city is so different for me this time around. When I had my kids I connected with other Mom’s and their babies through playgroups. Now I connect with them online and then meet up in person to create a friendship. Is this the way of the world now, is it the way life is in the city, or is it just people’s comfort zone levels now? I think it’s a combination of all the above and everything I’ve written about here. It doesn’t deter me from not trying to establish that connection the old fashioned way. Now it’s parks, playgroups, and play dates that have become my social life outside of my screen. I know two people on my block and really that has to change. This may not work for everyone and it’s my own personal, and honest viewpoint on this topic of modern day friendship. I feel like a pinoneer forging on my quest to start a friendship revolution. Who’s with me? ?

  

I’ve linked up today with some other great bloggers to start a #friendshiprevolution. Follow the hashtag on Facebook and Twitter to read some other interesting blogs. Thank you ❤️ 

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Theft  

I’ve put my heart and soul into the words I write. I have spoken and written the truth. It’s the way I live my life, and it’s what I teach my children. But what if I’m asked “Mommy are we going to be ok?” Are we going to find Daddy? How do I answer that when I don’t really know, I’m honest, truthful, as I’ve just said but not this time. The theft of my conscience in that moment rocked me to my core. 

It started out as a wonderful night of my husband and I surprising our kids. We were going into the city and going to see our first live Lacrosse game. We drove to the train station and started on our journey. My youngest son loves trains, and we’ve watched Thomas on Netflix on a continuous loop. To say he was excited is the understatement of the year. We started out on our train ride while talking about the sights we were seeing before us. 

Half way to our destination we found out the train route was being redirected and we would have to take the bus. So we went from excitement to a new change, which my youngest son doesn’t deal well with it at all. We boarded a very busy bus and sat in our seats. I sat behind the bus driver and my son got really upset because I sat in his seat. I picked him up and set him on my knee, which caused him to really panic. As he was freaking out and flailing in my arms, my husband stood up and I moved him back to his seat. 

Everything was under control as I checked in with my oldest son who has problems with being in close proximity to people in crowds. He was coping the best he could, because he could see his brother was struggling. Then I hear a woman talking she says “I wouldn’t have let him have the seat. I did that before and it ending badly.” I looked at her surprised she was even talking to me that’s when the theft of my patience happened. I said “he has autism, back off!” She replied that her son had it too.

 I had to stay my tongue even though I was boiling inside. I wanted to say “bitch you take care of your own backyard, and stay out of mine!” But I grumbled to my husband while the ignorant woman’s daughter listened to my every word. We finally reached our destination and the weather was bitterly cold so we ran to the arena. I was very relieved to find our seats and to sit down and wait for the festivities to start. The game was very exciting, action packed, and loud. By the third quarter my son’s were done. So we packed up to leave and started out for the train. It was getting ready to leave so my husband said jump on with the kids, so we did just that. He stayed at the ticket booth and we sat down to wait for him. 

The theft of my heart crushed me as I watched the doors close behind me. I tried to open them but the train was moving and the button wouldn’t engage. I sat with my son’s as they began to cry and wail for their Daddy. My own heart was breaking with their pain and anguish. I held them and tried to calm their fears and still my own. We had to get off the train and a woman was telling me instructions on what train to catch. I got out and waited for my husband and after 15 minutes he hadn’t shown up. My oldest began to cry so I hugged him, then my youngest wanted to be held. There was two security guards nearby and they asked how they could help. 

I told them of our situation and they radioed security at the last station with my husband’s description. We waited inside the bus terminal and then a man got the hackles on my neck rising up. So I went outside to stand with the security guards. The one was a wonderful British man who started talking to my son’s about sports. He was giving them a great distraction and me the tired Mama, a break. He got the call back and they couldn’t find my husband, so I made the decision to take the train home. 

I had told my son’s I wouldn’t leave the city without their Dad. But it was getting late and colder and I believed this was the best decision. When I’ve been lost before I’ve always remembered that if you go back to your original destination, that’s where you’ll find your beginning. As we boarded the train I silently thanked God for protecting us and held my son’s closer. What is it about the late nights that bring the creepy people out?!! Ugh creepy guy at 1:00, as my Mama bear is on high alert. My oldest is squeezing my hand so tight my knuckles are turning white. Yet I don’t say anything but “I’ve got this son, we’ll find your Dad and I have friends that live by the train station.”

He seemed to relax a little knowing that so we start counting the stops and coming up with rhymes. I’m doing my best to occupy his mind as his little brother is loving being on the train. We finally arrive at our destination and see my husband walking towards us. My heart skips a beat and I see him smile with relief. Our son’s run to him and I almost collapse with relief!  We get to our truck, warm up my seat and head home. Hoping that I will never have to go through that theft of loss again. 

This has been my Sunday confession with www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Please check out her anonymous confessions on her Facebook page. As well as all the other talent who link up. Thank you for popping by. ?

  

  

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Whine

I’ve had it, I’ve heard enough, this is the last straw!!! It’s all incessant whining in my household. So starting out this blog post I shall offer a disclaimer.

*Whining will NOT be tolerated unless it’s by the Mother of the household of whiners.*

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Now you may think this is unfair I assure you it’s how I see it as I’m up to my eyeballs in it. I was up late last night, I’m not even going to attempt to whine about that since that is my life. I listened to my Mad dog coughing till 2 am. I couldn’t wake him up enough to give him so medicine so I rubbed his feet with an essential oil flu blend. I continued chatting with my friend who was up at the same time as me. And we poured out our thoughts, wishes, inspirations, and songs.

I finally went to bed tossing and turning over this weeks events. I thought about how excited I was to have chicken wings and my husband wanted them cooked to crispness perfection. I opened up the oven and it set off the smoke alarm! The noise was deafening as we opened doors and windows. There was no visible signs of smoke just very delicious chicken wings I couldn’t eat. ?

I had two very sensory boys to deal with. One that just turned up the TV and one who was potty training and running around naked. I was trying to catch him before he erupted all over the place. Honestly it would’ve been quicker to catch a greased pig at a BBQ. I finally corralled him in a corner and got his underwear on, then turned down the blaring TV. Meanwhile the alarms was still making it’s annoying beeping. The sound of it’s shrill whine made me hide in my laundry room. As my sensory bucket was full to the brim and overflowing.

What would I do if I had a magic wand in these situations? Voila my youngest would be completely potty trained and accident free! His brother would think before he says the hurtful words that spew forth from anger. I would get more sleep, and alone time with my husband. I wouldn’t have to be on constant vigil listening for sounds of breathing, snoring, or choking. And there would be more date nights with copious amounts of wine enjoyed. ?

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*Image used with permission from www.sharingwithshari.com*

Back to my story after my own ADHD moment, finally the nails on the chalkboard sound stopped and I crawled out from the black hole of my laundry room. I put my kids to bed, amidst the whining of I’m not tired, I don’t want to go potty, read me another story. Finally I had freedom and I grabbed a huge plate of wings and retreated to my safety of my bedroom. My husband and I comforted ourselves with watching Grim and I drank some wine. It was a pleasant end to a long experience of sensory proportions.

This morning I awoke to the sounds of whining. My Captain couldn’t find his elbow pad. I somehow got blamed for it, although he was the one who aired out his gear and packed it up after. I listened to the stomping, whining, and after 4 hours of sleep the angry Mama bear had arisen. The elbow pad was found in my sons hockey bag (where it was the whole time) and his whining and temper tantrum woke up his brother. Who was none to happy about breaking his slumber after hacking most of the night. He stumbles around dehydrated, cranky, and in need of Mommy cuddles.

Mornings like this really make me want to day drink but I chill my bottle and know it will be waiting for me at the end of the day. So I said Father and son out the door to their hockey game and I curl up on the couch to reflect. Now I’m whining about not enough milk left for cereal for me. After my Mad dog devoured two big bowls and I’m currently munching on Caesar salad. With just the two of us home there’s laughter, hockey, zamboni ice clearing, and most important a whine free zone.

This has been my submission to Ash’s Sunday confession of www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Please check out her blog, her anonymous confessions on her Facebook page and all the other talent who link up. Smooches to a whine free day. ?

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