And so to Chapter 'What' in the Book??

And here we are. Just 7 weeks till the end of the school year, which is the same as the end of the calendar year when you're in the Southern Hemisphere; not 'the end of the year but not the end of the made up school year', when you're in the Northern bit. Ya follow? An entire academic year online. An entire year almost of this horrific plague on our planet. Who could possibly ever have thought this...when I think back to a year ago, I was having pretty severe anxiety. Transpired that I was probably having actual panic attacks; soreness in my chest, feeling of drowning, spinning, shortness of breath - all that kind of stuff. It was awful. And likely all related to getting Emilio home to Scotland for Christmas so that he could meet a whole new bunch of people who had been loving him from a world away. The pressure and the stress and the unknowns of what that trip was going to be and mean was unbelievably overwhelming. To the point that I was having regular panic attacks. Well. It turned out that my boy BOSSED those flights (thank you, Melatonin and Pocoyo) and we had the most beautiful time ever. Meeting those who are my Most Important and therefore Emilio's Most Important, having his Naming Day, being home surrounded by Scotland. It was truly magnificent. Different than I'd pictured, but still magnificent. 

And I had been researching how to get us back to Scotland. Where we could locate to. Where he would go to school. Which type of school he'd need. All of that was crazy anxiety inducing, too, but I was surrounded by my village. Now, NOW, we are all in this absolute fuckshow of a life, with no idea when it's going to end or where we'll end up. Well, here we are, having planned to relocate home in December without the faintest idea when in the world we will see our family (blood and chosen) again. It's actually mental. And it's hard. So. So. Hard. 

Life here continues to be such a struggle. I feel like a failure most of the time. I'm failing at Mumming, I'm failing at being a good friend, a sister, daughter, teacher, colleague, dog mama. All of the things. None of them well. Not. A. One. It's very difficult for everyone right now, and god knows how hard this has hit the underprivileged. I try so hard to check in with my gratitude every single day: I have a job, I have a house, I have security, I have the most wonderful little boy in the whole world, I have 3 amazing dogs, I have amazing friends, I have a big sister who always checks in regardless of her crap, I have SO MUCH. But I can't ignore how unbelievably hard this is. How much this has hit my mental health and my ability to just be a functioning human person. When my people say, 'there are few in our world (absolute emphasis on our world) who have it as hard as you', it doesn't make me feel bad, like they think it will, it makes me feel like they get it. When some people have zero ability to empathise and go on to criticise, I can't cope. This has been, without a doubt, the hardest thing I have ever had to go through, and there has been some stuff. My Sara is the best: 'You adopted a kid, with autism, on your own, in a foreign country, went back to work full time, and then there was a global pandemic. It's ridiculous.' It IS ridiculous. And yet here we are. 

I don't want pity. I don't want 'oh my god, you're so amazing', because I'm not. There's a great meme about that at the moment - google it. I just want to be able to be honest and say I am sinking. I am NOT coping. I want to throw my child into the sea and then get in there myself. Yes, the decision to be a single parent was my own; I embraced that and I love it. Yes, I chose autism and I would never, ever change that. But fuck me, had I dreamed that this would be where we'd end up, I may have considered doing this with another person. Loneliness is suffocating at times. Chasing after the child who doesn't understand danger or respond to his name and thinks running off is hilarious 25 times a day is EXHAUSTING. Trying to trust someone and finding out you're once again a total fool is just debilitating. So riddle me this: how do you add all that up together and find a person who'd take all this on? 

Nothing has changed and everything has. I love my son to the end of forever and I want us to have more of a family. But I think I maybe actually can't do this all by myself. And that pisses me right off. 

x

'Why don't you have a husband?'

I mean, really, what kind of question is that?? What actual, genuine answer is a person expecting when they ask that? 

'I'm a lesbian.'

'I'm a widow.'

'I killed him.'

'We planned the wedding but keep forgetting the date.'

'I have a husband. He's called Bob and he's right over there. Yes, I do mean my dog - do you have a problem with that?'

I mean, honestly. Thankfully, I did not say too much about New Girl because New Girl did not work out. Not entirely because she asked that ridiculous question, but I'm not saying it wasn't a factor. Bless her wee heart, she is a really sweet girl but a girl she is and it was clear from the get go that she was in Way. Over. Her. Head. Which really just stressed me out WAY more (sorry, Rachel and Sarah who bore the brunt of my ranting and raving and meltdowning). Obviously, I am literally just walking cortisol at the moment and I needed help and that help needed to be immediate so we went with the first option but it was just even more stressful trying to train a Human to look after my Tiny Human whilst teaching all the other Tiny Humans on my screen. I'm good. But no one is that good. And so a Royal Shitshow commenced. And continued all week. A few highlights: on her phone in her room while I was on zoom (on a broom) and Emilio flew past me and out the front door; downstairs playing and I went to check up and there is literally an explosion of toys all over the floor (photo below) while she was watching him; ice-cream for breakfast, followed by her trying to give him cake. At 9am. Anyway, needless to say, it was going to be a big, steep learning curve for us both but, total respect to her, she told me on Friday afternoon that it was too much and it wasn't going to work out. She offered to help me find someone else and to come the next day but I said I understood totally and not to worry. 

As I say, total respect to her for not just running away or being scared to say how she felt. I think that shows excellent character and she'll find her way in something else. Childminding is not the thing. However, that phrase keeps echoing roudnd my wee heid and hurting my already sore heart; that which had me in floods of tears that night (end of another long bimester, nannygate pinballing my wee brain all over the place and just exhaustion). But still.

Emilio is too much.

This is on the back of an incident the previous weekend where I was reminded just how different my child is compared to my friends' kids. Comparison isn't something I do and is, in fact, something I actively avoid, but the situation was such that it was just glaringly obvious and it hurt. Unless you are used to Emilio, you literally have no idea how to handle him. And I HATE to think that he's someone to be handled. He's just a wee boy. Doing wee boy things. But he needs watched like a hawk or he can be gone in a shot. I know that. I have developed a spidey sense when it comes to him and I think I'm only realising that now. Lockdown, as I've previously mentioned, has done wonders for our bonding and his attachment. Absolute wonders. When I look back on this time, that's the thing I'll forever be grateful for, however mad it's driven me. I really feel like we are our own wee family now. We are a wee team. But it's definitely blinded me to how others see Emilio - sure, we aren't mixing with other humans, pretty much ever. So I'm completely in tune with him and can, more or less, react to his movements quickly. They aren't predictable, see. He'll be playing on the sand, happily, writing letters, digging, whatever and then, WHOOSH, he's up and he's off. And I think I've mentioned, that boy is FAST. So you have to be on him all the time. It's just not the same for other 4 year olds. It's not. So no wonder this wee girl couldn't cope. I threw her in the deep end, much like I was thrown myself when he came home. Difference was - I had been preparing my whole life for him. She had a day. 

Emilio is too much. 

He's not, though. He is exactly enough. His world has just been thrown apart again - he's no idea what the hell is going on. I can't tell him that the other significant human in his life is never coming back. I have no way to communicate that just as he's no way to communicate whatever is going on in his head with it. If he was just able to ask 'where is she?', and I could try to explain, maybe my heart wouldn't be hurting for him so much. Maybe his behaviour wouldn't be so unbearably hard. But this is life for us and we just have to keep figuring it out. 

The search is on for our new Santa Maria Poppins. There's promising leads but I am so unbelievably cautious now. 2 weeks vacay from school will help but really, I desperately, and I do not feel any Mum Guilt saying this, need a break from my child. We have been solidly together, pretty much 24/7 since December last year with a mini hiatus in Feb when I went back to work for about 5 minutes. I love my boy exactly as much as I knew I would - with every single fibre of my being and more - but JESUS, it's a lot. No one is supposed to Mum and Work at the exact same moments. So I'm not feeling guilty when I shout that I need to get away from him. I do. But it's not going to happen any time soon so we are digging deep, reaching out to the village and drinking the wine. 

Wish us luck x

Nice while it lasted

Making guacamole in Nursery on Zoom

Let's just hide

Trying to contain the mayhem whilst teaching...

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!