Who moves twice during a global pandemic?? Yep, you got it...

That is correct. We are moving again. This was planned from when we moved to the beach, though; it was only ever a 6 month deal. But holy moly has it come around fast and am I remotely prepared for it and why on EARTH am I doing this during the last few weeks of school with all of its end of term, end of year, end of fecking Zoom admining HORROR? Well. Because my lease is up. So I have to. 

It's now week 7 of New Nanny and I can hand on heart say it has not gotten any better. Not overall. It has continued to be utter, utter hell on earth, meltdowning, banshee screaming, throwing things, climbing framing (me) during Zoom sessions, refusal to do just about anything, hissy fit when refusal comes in the other direction awfulness. And that's just me! Hah. I have cried at the sea, quite hysterically, knowing my baby was inside the house screaming for me. I have gone absolutely nuts at him so too many times that I'm dying inside. I have thought about quitting my job about a trazillion times. I have thought about sacking New Nanny and just doing it all on my own again. I have so many, multiple thoughts and plans and ideas and strategies and groups to join and friends to ask and I just love being awake at 3am running through all these things. Especially when we are back at 4am wake ups. How many times can you say it really is too much? 

We have a very short time left 'in school' - I think it's less than 2 weeks and like everyone keeps saying, 'you've got this far, you can do it' and I think, yep, I can do that thing. And then another day comes with more of the same and even more work to catch up on and paperworks to be doing and boxes to be packing and friendships blowing up and family situations to be dealing with and just STUFF. So. Much. Stuff. I've said it once, I'll say it again...it is TOO MUCH! 

Well. Now we are here in our new, temporary house and I wish we were staying forever. It's perfect. Big, spacious, rooms I can lock, a little garden and back around the people. Equally it's hell because we are back around the people. The weekend was glorious because the move went really smoothly, with the exception of old landlord who I literally have been in touch with MORE THAN ANY OF MY FRIENDS, for 6 MONTHS, who tried to call me about deposit, etc as I was driving to Lima. Like. Actually. Do one. Not only am I not getting any deposit back, I owe him money. I did a good, therapeutic thing. I wrote an email explaining the injustice and the unrealistic expectations of returning a property with NO wear and tear, after having lived there, and did not send it. Having lived in Lima for 6 years and with 2 landlords behind me, I know that such emailage will be futile. So I paid then deleted him from my phone. Cheerio. 

New place is perfect aside from the fact that I'm back to walking 3 dogs on my own with a 4.5 year old. Piece of cake for you neurotypicals in the world. Throw in the child who doesn't respond to his name, doesn't understand danger, doesn't stop even when you're screaming and whose favourite thing to do on a scooter is scoot the fastest away, and there is the cortisol back. Dogs are all back on leads - poor Bridget, after all that freedom at the beach - but it doesn't mean I can run after Emilio. Dog walker being hired as I write. 

Week 8 of New Nanny and today had me walking around Miraflores in floods of tears. I can't describe the screaming that goes on. I just know that is not my boy. But I'm at the end of my rope and as hard as I try to stay calm, eventually I lose it and shout back. There is literally no one to help me here. Not a single person who gets it, least of all New Nanny who had the audacity to call him 'agresivo' today. FEEL. MY. WRATH. This is pain. This is trauma. This is abandonment. This is NOT aggression. And so it goes on. 

One good thing I did today, aside from cuddle my boy and tell him I'm here over and over, was a 'charla' for prospective adopters. This was about the priority list, which is where I chose and fell in love with Emilio the very first time I saw his photo. Man, I'm welling up just picturing it. That's a full blown sensory experience, that moment, and I think I could live in it forever. I was there to share my experiences as a person who'd adopted a child from that list, and a child, it transpires, with ASD. Peruvians, in my experience, aren't the most expressive on their faces and it is something I find challenging. Not a criticism, just my experience. It's hard trying to share your journey about your boy and all of its ups and downs when you're met with stony stone faces! But it felt good. It felt like maybe we could make a difference here - special needs aren't something to be scared of. They are just special. Exactly that. I am in NO way getting this right at all right now. I get it wrong daily. I hate myself daily. But, when I wake up with that 20.5kg of 4am love on top of me, saying 'Nunny' in the cutest voice you could ever hear, I think I get another chance to do it better that day. And I keep on trying. 

Knowing you know the things but not knowing what to do with the things that you know

                                                

It's oh so quiet, dodododododo, dododododo, it's oh so still...and so peaceful until...BADABADA!

I was listening to Bjork the other day and thinking, first, 'what a great song!' and second, 'this just fits life right now'. Not the falling in love bit, obviously, just the rollercoaster of coronacoaster. 

We are on week 4 of the New Nanny and things are peaceful. Until... Yeah. It's been nothing short of hideous dealing with, witnessing, causing and feeling this amount of pain since we lost our Santa Maria Poppins. I can honestly say some of it is like a breakup. You are SO MAD at that person who has wronged you and, we will get into this later, WRONGED YOUR CHILD, you want to rip their head off. But then life keeps going and you find you miss them. Terribly. So, so terribly. You want to drunk dial. You almost do. Then you realise you've deleted them and blocked their number...oh no, that's actually the real break up story. What you find is that you've been deleted and you've been blocked. You can't call and ask what happened. You can't get answers for your child. You can't take their pain away. You can't explain a thing. So you just ignore it and try as best you can to move forward and adapt to another new thing. 

Heartbreak really hurts. I have friends who just don't experience heartbreak the way I do. I love with my whole entire being; once you got me, I'm yours. But I also hurt with my whole entire being; once you break me, I'm fucked. So, I thought maybe I had a handle on this whole hurt thing. But nothing, no, NOTHING can prepare you for the pain of someone hurting your child. YOU. DID. WHAT????? Hear that Mama Bear roar! What Emilio has been suffering and experiencing over the last, well, all of his life, is trauma. And it's Trauma with a Capital TRAUMA. I forgot I knew this. I forgot I have a frigging Masters in this. I forgot that this is my passion and that my brain works and that I know things and that I knew that was why I'd be a good mummy to a child with abandonment trauma. Because I know the stuff. No, it doesn't make me an expert and know all of the things to do or help me to keep calm when there's an almighty meltdown and I can't cope. But understanding the neuroscience and the behaviours that might come with that, then I've got half a shot at least, I think. Did you know that experiencing trauma in the early stages of life literally, and I mean literally, changes your brain. It is physiologically different from a neurotypically developing brain. Cortisol, my friends. That guy. Google it because it's fascinating AF. So Emilio's brain has a double whammy of being A-Typical. And then another primary caregiver abandoned him so...

He has been having the worst behaviours recently that I've seen since he came home. Sure, the early days were hard, but he was 2. He's 4.5 now. He's big, he's strong, he's intelligent AF and he knows how to play all the games. But what I saw when I brought in yet another adult human to his life (New Nanny) and said 'go play, Mama needs to work', was total and utter terror. Total and utter fear. Total and utter Abandonment Trauma. I'm welling up writing this because it hurt so unbelievably much to know what was happening and to know that I didn't know how to fix it and to know that I was losing my temper because I HAVE TO FRICKIN WORK!!!! To know I studied this and I have tools in my toolbox and books in my bookbox and thoughts in my thinkbox and absolutely no way to access any of these because I am Just. So. Damned. Tired. And too caught up in all the stuff. Turns out that you can study the studies and read the readings and know that you have the knowings, but putting it into practice when your child is screaming bloody murder is just impossible. 

Having someone (New Nanny) in your face constantly asking what to do when your child is having a meltdown doesn't help either, it has to be said. Not her fault. She's brand new. She believed this was his normal, I think. No amount of, 'THIS ISN'T MY BOY!!', 'THIS ISN'T HOW HE IS!' convinced her. And, power to her, she didn't run but instead sat me down and asked me what she could do to understand and help, etc. She promised me she wasn't running. I didn't believe her. Being betrayed by someone you trusted your most precious gift in the world to is WALLS UP, BARBED WIRE, AIN'T NO ONE GETTING IN HERE AGAIN like nobody's business. If you know, you know.

But it IS true. He's NOT like that. Emilio is a happy, curious, bloody minded, determinded, excited 4 year old who doesn't like being told 'no'. I'm sure that's reminiscent of many children. Where he differs is that he can't understand language so well. He doesn't get why he can have ice-cream one day and not the next. He doesn't understand that when I say we are going in the car, it's not happening right at that exact moment (I'm getting better at negociating things like this). But mostly, he doesn't understand why someone he loved, someone who was a HUGE part of his life, just left. Never to be seen again. I correctly identified this as trauma response behaviours, well done me, and had absolutely nothing in the toolbox. I didn't know how to cope and I didn't know how to help. It was a mess and a horrorshow and I regret everything. Having had a bit of validation from a webinar I just did on Trauma and Attachment reminded me that I know what I'm talking about, I know my child and I know what I can do to help. Not fix. Definitely can't fix it. But I can help heal and keep calm. Working on it.

For anyone who might be going through this...here are my top tips: 

1) Social story AS SOON AS you know that person is leaving. In retrospect, as soon as I'd figured out Santa Maria wasn't coming back, I should have done this. Now I'm too scared to as I think too much time has passed. But I'm not sure. So I question myself constantly. It's super fun. 

2) Keep literally every other single thing the same. Breakfast is a smoothie. Make the damn smoothie. Make 5 if that's what he wants. Who cares? 

3) Repeat 'I love you' and display affectionate behaviours as often as they are willing to accept. Especially in moments of crisis. Now is not the time for any kind of Behaviourism crap. This child is in pain. Comfort them. Walk beside them in that pain and show you're not scared of it.

4) Be more 'there' if you can. Colour, draw, build, play in the sand - whatever you can do to talk through what's happening. I think talking through it, even when language isn't there so much, is key.

5) Get those visuals on the go for routines that might have to change and definitely include a treat. I'm trying my best to avoid food treats but bubbles, playing with the ball, even the stupid iPad is working for now. I hate 'carrot and stick' stuff but sometimes you HAVE to just 'carrot and stick' it.

6) Try to stay home as much as possible during this transition. It might help. It might drive you crazy. It's helping Emilio for sure - I have to be here always. He can leave with the nanny but I am not allowed to leave. This is ok for now. 

7) Cry on your friends and know that no one else actually gets it as much as they try. Coz they can't. But they are there anyway, fighting your fight right beside you. And that is worth everything. 

8) Emotion puppets/cards/faces/anything...my child is pre-verbal so it's hard to use these in this situation but I'm trying coz he loves an 'emotion puppet'! 'Emilio is sad. It is ok to be sad.' Then we try to find something to make him 'happy face!'. 

I have a whole load more to say about this subject but I'm going to sign off for now. We are together, we are full of love and we are going to get through this. No one said it would be easy and all that...god DAMN it's worth it. *heart*  

Constantly seeking connection - do reach out if you've any experiences to share!! @maisielou on Insta and @mariannelkelly on Twitter. 

Big love x

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?!

Ghosted in a Pandemic: It's not them; it's you!

Santa Maria Poppins has left the building. Gone off in her carpet bag or flown away with her brolly or been abducted by aliens or something. She's not here is the point. I have absolutely no idea what has happened or how it has happened and cannot make sense of this situation which drives me crazy! I'm not a fan of not understanding things... It's one of the things that sends me loopy. Literally LOOPY. She has been messing us about for the last while, not staying the night and then not showing up and giving all sorts of excuses. Believed them I did, however. Coz clearly I'm a total mug. So this week, she left on Tuesday night, with a total nonsense excuse and promised she'd be back in the morning 'temprano'. Obvio she was not back, temprano or otherwise. I called, I text and got no response - even though I could see she was online. Later in the day, I sent a message asking if she'd be there the next day as I had 22 parent meetings and I'd have to cancel if she wasn't going to come. Nada. Isn't there enough uncertainty right now without throwing in a 'will she turn up or not?' nannygate as well?? Isn't there????? She did not turn up so we struggled through 22 parent meetings with Ipad/TV parenting, every now and then having to tank off to stop Emilio from escaping outside/breaking his neck climbing on the counter/painting with my make up. Fortunately, I am working with another gorgeous teacher because my school have been unbelievably supportive and took some of my teaching time off me on account of the barely surviving the hell of home mumming and home teaching and home schooling without childcare. So she was able to carry on the meetings when I was chasing child around. Still. Actual hell. 

Come Friday, I still hadn't heard anything and I was so pissed off by this stage that I just wrote her a message and told her not to come back. Then she blocked me on What's App. I have actually, ACTUALLY been ghosted by my nanny. I mean, just WHAT?? Not a single one of my friends can figure it out as to what in the chuffing chuffery could have happened other than her having another job. What I can't get to grips with is how I have trusted this woman with the Single Most Important Thing in my life for the last 18 months, thinking that she knew and understood him, that she cared about him, that she knows how important it is for routine and structure and visual schedules etc, to find out that she gives exactly zero fucks. I mean, I made him a days of the week schedule with pictures of her on so he knew when she'd be there and when it would just be me because this guy really, REALLY struggles with transition. Since I made that, not a single week passed with it being true. I just feel so betrayed, so hurt and my heart is breaking for my little boy who has absolutely no idea what is going on and that he's never going to see her again. With no way to really explain this to him and with no way of gauging his understanding, it's just too hard. How can someone do this to a child who already has abandonment trauma? How? The last few weeks have been tough anyway with all of the disruption - evident in the fact that Emilio is back to getting up for the day anywhere from 2.30am onwards. Brutal. Not his fault. Not mine either. But JEEEEEZZZZZ. So here we are. 

Fortunately, because of the fact that I was completely reliant on this woman and when something stopped her from coming, my work was immediately impacted, I had started to look for a Saturday person who could get to know Emilio and then be a backup. Enter new gorgeous girl. She showed up, she wants to work with us and I'm saying nothing else because I don't want to jinx it. Let's see. 1 more work week before a 2 week holiday. Then 8 more weeks till Christmas/summer holiday. Mind blowing. An entire academic year taught through the medium of Zoom and Seesaw and ScreenCastify and Nearpod and Youtube (no, I did not teach Emilio how to write the alphabet) and various other virtual realities. Who knows what in the anything is next; I'm back to surviving each day and being grateful we are all still here (except we are not 😰 RIP Bee) and not completely mentally unhinged just yet. 

Ghosted by my nanny. It really doesn't seem real. I've also been somewhat ghosted in the more traditional sense at the exact same time, hence the 'it's not them; it's you'. It really, actually must be. It sounds so self-pitying but I actually, actually cannot rely on or trust anyone. It's just me and him and the dogs. And so we will carry on. 

Anyway. Onto happier things. My beautiful and caring friends have come to visit us at this here beach this weekend and that's brought laughter, wine, dancing, reminiscing, sunshine, planning, caring, love and fun. This pandemia has changed some of my friendships and cemented a bond that was already there anyway, in the most bizarre of circumstances: how do you feel closer to someone when you haven't been able to see them in months?! But it has and I am so unbelievably grateful for the support of those wonderful, let's face it, WOMEN who have carried me this far and let me offload and cry and bitch and moan and just say 'I can't' knowing that I have to anyway. I love you. Truly, truly. Hashtag what's for dinner. Hashtag drowning in a sea of inadequacy. Hashtag dance like there's NOBODY watching. You know who you are and you are so, so appreciated and adored. 

Keep on keeping on. xxxx

A Plethora of Crap

And again with the coronacoaster. Man, this thing just won't stop, will it?? It's just like every time I think I've found my groove and I'm able to, like, maybe actually PLAN something and get some regular exercise going and NOT feel like I'm on the brink of a breakdown EVERY SINGLE SECOND OF EVERY SINGLE DAY...the nanny goes off sick again. I mean, what in the actual anything?! She was off for another 2.5 weeks. That was fun. For exactly no one. Of course my normal human side is compassionate and empathetic and completely sorry for her (nephew is sick with COVID) but my 'Corona'ed On My Own for 12 Weeks and Then Two More Weeks and I JUST CAN'T F'CKING DO THIS ALONE ANYMORE' side thinks a tad differently. What I've realised is that I am not going from functioning at 100% and then working slowly downwards, as I have more and more responsibilities and less and less people to rely on (i.e. no people) and so coping skills or humaning skills gradually diminish. No, no. I'm going from the 'Survival for 12 Weeks' took a massive toll, then the next 2 weeks where I was wrapping up End of Term Stuff (if you know, you know), whilst trying to ensure my child did not die (parenting is out the window in these times; may the odds be ever in your favour) hit even harder. The toll it took is that I don't have 100% anymore. I have a range of 'Almost Human' to 'Hysterically Crying' to 'JUST LEAVE IT WITH ME, I'LL GET IT DONE' to 'The Pits of Despair' to 'I WILL ALSO HELP YOU WITH THAT THING IN MY NO FREE TIME'. Hysteria, in short. There is no way to ever get on top of everything because no one and nothing can be relied upon. 

The Plethora of Crap. 

This is what my friend and one of Emilio's SHS were discussing just yesterday. She, too, finds herself at the bottom of rockbottom, trying to sink through that bottom, purely with the goal of  not having to deal with trying to climb back up...AGAIN. There is no doubt that everyone is having a hard time through this pandemia and I'm not about to start comparative suffering on us because Brené has taught us how wrong that is. The injustices of the world are reigning supreme right now. Make no mistake and know how many of my thoughts and actions are put into tackling THAT.  

But FUCK, doing this with children CONSTANTLY in the background making noise, climbing on your back (sorry, kids, Emilio wants to join in just now...WHAT WAS THAT YOU SAID, I COULDN'T HEAR YOU?????), throwing shit around, asking to go to the toilet and needing their bum wiped while you're in the middle of teaching division, with a child on screen crying because they don't understand said division...I don't think I've ever found anything this hard. I KNOW I can do hard things, Glennon Doyle, I really do but there's no stop button right now. There's no divide between Mum, Teacher and Marianne. None. I am reaching the point where I genuinely don't know how much longer I can do this number of hard things. 

This week has also brought about the delight of finding out we are for sure online till Christmas. An entire academic year taught through a tiny little camera. Hands up if that was your dream when you went into education?? My poor Tiny Humans at the other side of that camera are also losing it; every single lesson is now about trying to entertain as much as is humanly possible when you're running on close to zero, it's about trying to get them to feel how much you care when you can't be there. It's exhausting for all of us. Most people are relieved that the announcement has come. But for this crazy old head? Not so much. How can I possibly continue like this till Christmas? 

The main thing that sent me spiralling down a very steep spirally thing was the 'what now?' ness of it all. Emilio was supposed to have mainstream nursery for a whole year so we would be in a better position to know what kind of support he'd need at school. Then we were moving to Scotland where he'd have 6 more months at nursery and all that time to find out if it's special school or mainstream. Now? Now I have absolutely no idea. I don't know where we are going to move to, I don't know what kind of school he can go to. Moving to Scotland was absolutely the plan and now I'm absolutely against that. But what and where? International schools are notoriously shit at providing SEND support. There are a handful with a great reputation, a few of which are in Asia and I just don't want to be that far from home anymore. Anyway. Rabbit. Hole. So many huge decisions to make and no time to get my head in the game because it feels very much like running on a hamster wheel at the moment. 

Some amazing things though. Emilio connects to his nursery Zoom every day for around 30 minutes and talks to his teachers and participates in his own way. Mind. Blown. He can now kiss me on the lips, complete with 'mwah' sound. He's learned loads of new words in Spanish and English and he can do a 'thumbs up'! Winnie the Pooh is the current favourite TV show on Disney Plus, 'Up' made him cry and we had to switch it off, jumping up and down tantrums when he doesn't get what he wants is an almost daily occurance, he's made friends on the beach and now goes up to everyone shouting 'hola' and getting in their grill...awesome during the time of the coronavirus. He has smashed all of his goals on his individual support plan for school. I couldn't be more proud or more in awe of this incredible boy. 

We will get there. We will get through this because we CAN do hard things. But man alive, could we do with some help getting there right now. 

Life is a Coronacoaster (just gotta ride it)

 'I need you-oo, so stop hiding. Love is a mystery, girl, let's get inside it'.

I mean, Ronan's album is 20 years old, WTAF?! Also, I have always thought those lyrics were 'let's get excited'. Why inside it? Inside what? Coronacoaster got me coronacrazy. 

Annnyyywwayyy, we are on Day 4,569,898 of national emergency/not quarantine/whatever coz who even knows what the rules are anymore, and we are doing okish now! Life at the beach is infinitely better than life in Lima due to all the space and freedom we can enjoy. Emilio spends most of the day running around on the beach, collecting stuff, digging, rolling in the sand and generally having the time of his life. His favourite thing to do is roll stuff down the big dirt hills or push himself around on his knees, forehead in sand...takes 'bury your head in the sand' to a whole new, literal level. Well, they do say that autism and the literal sense go hand in hand. Maybe he's just proving a point?  

I've seen big changes in my boy over this crazy, crazy time. Sometimes I worry that we will have missed an entire year of speech and occupational therapy, not to mention the all important nursery year and learning about humans and relationships and, you know, the fact there are other people in the world besides your mama. It does worry me. BUT, then I send wee videos of what he's up to to my friend and autism guru in London and she is constantly gobsmacked by his progress. Language is developing in both Spanish and English, with 'oh no!' still the dominant phrase, along with 'this one!' which is accompanied by the cutest squinted up eye and point to whatever it is he happens to fancy at the time. I remember reading autism checklisty stuff when I first started searching for a speech therapist and one of the points was whether your child points things out to you - like, 'oh, look at the flower' or whatever. Because I walked into this head first with eyes wide open, I always think I'm more prepared than parents who have to deal with the diagnosis, and often grief that comes along with that. But I remember reading that point and thinking, 'Emilio will probably never do that' and feeling some of that grief. Well. Fast forward a year and we are walking along the road, hand in hand, when up he points to a wee model aeroplane attached to someone's beach house gate and says, 'plane'. Did my eyes fill up and did I immediately text my dad to tell him that Emilio knows what a plane is? Affirmative. Now it's just a normal thing he does. 'Shell', 'beach', 'car, 'cookie', etc. His speech is very unclear so I'm not sure anyone else would get what he is saying, but I do. And it fills me with the hopiest of hopes that he will one day use language in a more conventional, communicative way. Communicating, he is, though. 

Another big massive breakthrough is that I am officially 'Nunny' (coz 'm' is a hard one still). The pain of Emilio choosing Santa Maria Poppins over me, of wanting to play with her, of having MENTAL MELTDOWNS when she left, that pain? That has been replaced with, 'JUST LET MUMMY GO FOR A RUN! PLEASE!!'. HAHAHA. Who knew? I can't remember the last time I was able to pee alone as there is always one member of my family in there, two or four legged. But now we have a 4 year old banging on the door screaming 'NUUUUNNNNYYYYYY' when I try to take a shower. It happened. He loves me. He wants me. He misses me. I know my village will say that has been there for a long time, but I can see it and feel it and it's the most wonderful feeling in the world. Would we have bonded this closely had coronavirus not come crashing in and locked us up together? Who can say. Spending 24/7 together for the last 5 months (and the close to 3 months over Christmas) has definitely cemented us together. Sure, I'm still ready to chuck him in the sea sometimes, or chuck myself in there, but I have a little boy who absolutely knows I'm his mum. Who knows that he is loved, that he has someone who will give him the world if she can and if she can't, she'll fight like hell till she gets it for him. 

Now, if he'd just stop thinking it's fecking hilarious to run away from me EVERY 3 SECONDS, we would be pretty much perfect. 

Next up: Visit number 3 of 6 post-adoption, via Zoom. I LOVE our Post-Adoption Lady (PAL). She makes me cry every time but in a good way. She is the antithesis to my pre-adoption lady. Remember her and her 'your life must be so terrible, leaving home at 17!' nutsness? And her 'But why don't you want your OWN child? You're still young enough!' Pfffff. Anyway, PAL is delighted we've moved to the beach and absolutely thrilled at Emilio's progress, my commitment/overbearingness about what to do next in terms of school and country and support and all of the things that are driving me absolutely motherfing crazy at the moment...but she is on board. I know that everyone and their granny is all 'well, if you'd told me a year ago, coronavirus blah blah blah'...but honestly. Honestly. If I'd known that my first year with my son was going to look a bit like a walk in the park compared to our second year together, because, well, we are SO together, I'd have done whatever everyone is saying they'd have done if they'd known. Attachment Disorder, Autism, Trauma, Tantrums, Meltdowns, Difficulties Communicating, Freaking Out At Being A Single Parent In A Foreign Country, Trying To Manage With My Village For Support, Going Back To Work And Leaving My Child With Our Nanny: these things I had covered. These things were able to be rationalised and cried about and flipped out about but ultimately handled because they're normal. That I was doing. Being flung into a global pandemic with semi-recently adopted autistic child and all of the things and Absolutely No Access To Any Support Whatsoever, Not Even My Village? No. No, this I did not envisage. But. BUT. We are ok. PAL thinks we are doing great and is supporting my application to get Emilio's citizenship in the UK with the end-goal of getting us there at some stage. 

That plan is out the window and up in the sky at the moment. You know how much I am craving home. Well, you who know, know. I want my baby to have our whole Village and to learn how much he is loved by so many people who barely even know him. My wise, wise friends here - this Village that is right here - they tell me that I need to make his life bigger, not keep him to myself. And. They. Are. Right. And we are so lucky to have all the people who love us...but it's going to have to wait. Because Coronacoaster. I miss everyone, the same as everyone in the world does. But this isn't forever. I promised Emilio a huge life and I keep my promises. 

Love you all xxxx