Shit just got real. Again.

All geared up, I was, to write a really exciting post about speech therapy and my boy wonder. And I will. But firstly, here we go a-freaking-gain. COVID comes a-knocking. We have been living an altered, yet semi-normal existence for a while now - seeing a friend for a walk, having lunch in an outside cafe (before new quarantine) and I was really soaking up that human contact. Saturday was a hellish day with Emilio up at 3am and therefore both of us in a hideous mood all day...I could not shake my anger. He could not shake his tiredness (SHOCKINGLY!). So it was all crap until we met up with a friend on a walk and suddenly life felt infinitely manageable again. I felt happy, positive, alive, patient, capable, loving, aware and a whole host of other stuff...but it made me realise that spending so much time alone, not having human interaction with other adults, does not a healthy Maz make. Sunday was also pretty good - having felt a little renewed, I had way more energy to 'do stuff' with E. 

Monday rang in and with it came the dismal, dark, deafening and potentially dangerous bells of COVID-19. Our nanny's family have very sadly contracted the virus and, as a result, she's off home to wait it out. Now. What has upset me the most about this episode is that our nanny, the person I choose to let care for my child and who I trust to do so, thinks that I am an extraordinary person to send her home and tell her I'll sort out the test next week and just to focus on looking after her family. Her husband is vulnerable. Who, tell me, WHO are the people who are NOT compassionate? Who try to blame their 'help'? Who are you? Coz you SUCK. It should NOT be a big deal that I'm taking our health and wellbeing into consideration. It should NOT be weird that I'm thinking I hope her husband doesn't get this thing. It. Should. Not. Be. Weird. To. Care. About. The. People. Around. You. 

Some days later...

Well. That was then and this is now and things have taken a different turn. Unfortunately, due to different understandings and comfort with levels of risk, we are having to say goodbye to nanny and very fortunately have found someone new. What a coronacoastering dip, at breakneck speed, with a stomach lurching, vom inducing terror. I am JUST about to start back at work and we are on our own for the penultimate two weeks of summer vacay. What do we need when life is about to get cray cray again? That's right! A new person in our lives, in our homes and the loss of yet another person who was E's little world. The sheer guilt that comes with rocking it again is debilitating at times. It's also when my soloness feels most real and raw. There's no one to bounce ideas off, no one to share decision making with, no one else in the world who understands what this means and what it might do to my son. I always say I walked into this with my eyes wide open...but again, NO ONE saw a pandemic coming. It's the loneliest time, when I'm desperately shrieking at friends, trying to explain what's happening and asking for advice but knowing that no one knows what's best because not a single person can possibly understand. I've said before I bounce around constantly wondering/worrying - is this the autism bit, is this the trauma bit, is this an abandonment bit, is this the being 4 bit? It is like a pinball machine in my head. And I've yet to find anyone who can really empathise here and understand that. I am so fortunate to have so many people in our lives who listen day in and day out, who advise where they can, who share their experiences and who will just be there for me. I'm also fortunate enough to have found different online groups for adoption, autism, single parenting. But not a single one that encompasses all three. There will definitely be others out there! It's just not an easy group to find. And that makes it even harder because sometimes I just need SOMEONE who gets it exactly as it is.

Anyway. Here we are. And let's see how we go. 

Onto the amazing stuff. Emilio is verbal. Those exact words from our incredible new speech therapist. Have we landed the jackpot here! She totally sees his insane intelligence, understands where he will find it a challenge and will definitely push back when he is pushing for his own way. In short, perfection. I am already seeing absolute leaps in his speech in just a few weeks. We have gone from 'EE-EEEEEEEEE!' (TV) to 'I want Hociyo' (pocoyo), to spontaneously requesting things in that sentence structure to random new vocabulary that I have NO idea where it came from...FOOTPRINT. FOOTPRINT?! Where in the chuff did he learn that? I have tried, so very consciously, not to ever 'hope' that Emilio will use language the way I do. I have really, really tried because I don't ever want to feel disappointed. That is not fair to him. I will love everything he is for all of eternity and I don't want it ever to be mixed with feelings of 'if only'. But hearing from a professional that he can speak and he is likely to be able to speak more, in a way that will make his life infinitely easier? I can't even describe the feeling but I can tell you that tears are pouring down my face as I type this. Of course, for our relationship. Of course, to better understand him. But most important of all, his world will become so much easier. His life will become so much easier. Our world is not geared up for difference, by any stretch. We want everyone to conform to how we see it, how we do life, how we communicate, how we interpret things. I suppose that's part of why I want to speak about this and why I really want to have a podcast - I want to show the whole wide world that adoption is wonderful and challenging and painful and beautiful. That autism is incredible and difficult and inspiring and fascinating and an education. That solo parenting is easier and harder, the most complete I've felt and the most isolated. Life is just an enormous spectrum of stuff. I can't find a better word than stuff. It really is. And, while things are exceptionally difficult for everyone at the moment, in each person's own personal hell, there is utter beauty and joy and love to be found. And I need reminded of that just as much as anyone does. 

My beauty and joy. xxxx

We need to talk about Behaviour.

Well, we are a little further into January and already a little more restricted with the second wave officially hitting Peru. I'd be lying if I said my anxiety about this hadn't gone into overdrive and I was awake at 2.45am worrying about what we would do, where we are going to go, what happens in July, etc (July being when my contract is up and we need to be moving on out...to where, to what, to who TF knows?!). Some schools have already announced they'll be online till Easter or for the first term, but ours has not. I mean, it's a no brainer to my mind. Numbers are up, new strain is here, we are not getting the vaccine en masse until likely 2022, winter will come and we will be in the same mess we were in last year. With an even more crippled health care system. That is my prediction of the situation but I am VERY willing to be wrong. However, all of these feelings and instincts about this NUTS time makes me think everyone should just stay home, stay put, stop flying round the friggin' world and let this pass. I've thought a few times about going to the countryside with E and dogs times three, but it just fills me with anxiety and guilt. Why should I, who has a gorgeous house to live in, and relative freedom to walk around, sometimes meet for lunch in an outdoor cafe and feel pretty safe because I know my friends are being as safe as I am and we have the luxury of social distancing, why should I take that privilege and travel with it? NO OFFENCE to anyone who has chosen to do so - we are ALL living our own personal hells. This is just how I feel about it - and, do remember, we moved house twice, so we have had a change of scene during this shitstorm. So, while things remain as they are, Emilio is as happy as can be with our lot, I am full of gratitude and can be content with what we can do at the moment. 

Now, on to the reason I write. This topic has been something that keeps cropping up and some friends with diagnosed or getting diagnosed relatives have asked my opinion on. Everyone knows I have an opinion about pretty much EVERYTHING. This is no different. That of which I speak is behaviour and, more specifically, behaviour therapy for children on the spectrum. Now, when I was a Brand New Autism Mama and sought the advice and counsel of thy Every Knowing Paediatric Neurologist, I listened to his sage words of ABA and various different routes to managing this condition. I listened and nodded and wrote down those places that would take my baby in and help him live life and succeed in our world. I listened. But then obviously I researched. First port of call was my autism guru in London who said something vague like, 'mmm, yes, that's one approach' (love you, Mansi). Next was my good pal, Google. ABA therapy (Applied Behaviour Analysis) is effectively dog training for the neurodivergent. Yes, I said that and yes, I think that. You are allowed to think differently and I respect that. A little tiny Google into the Autism Speaks history of adverts will send chills down your spine...much in the way they portrayed an autism diagnosis would do to your family, neighbourhood, entire life. Horrific, dehumanising and utterly, UTTERLY exclusive and judgemental. These guys are big advocates of ABA and here, I'm sure it can be done well and I'm sure it works for some people. No judgement from this end. It's just definitely not for us. 

See here. This is how I see autism. That brain has developed differently to mine and that doesn't mean mine is better and the autistic brain is worse. Not by any stretch and really, how arrogant to think that, if a person does. I realise this may sound cliché or buzzwordy or 'pop culture'y, but this is how I genuinely feel. And this is an important point when thinking about behaviour and behaviour therapy. Does my son display behaviours that do not match the many neurotypically developing children I've taught and watched grow up in my family in the last 30 years (note, I haven't been teaching for 30 years but I've been an auntie pretty consistently for that amount of time!!)? Yes. Yes, he absolutely does. He bangs his hands on things and makes an 'ooh, ooh, ooh' noise with his teeth clenched. He lines crap up. Sometimes, though, not a lot. He ignores people. He doesn't respond to his name. He finds eye contact difficult until he's completely connected in a moment with me. He thinks it's hilarious to run away from me, even when it's dangerous. He repeats the same words over and over until I acknowledge the word. He takes things from other people (toys, food, whatever). He bulldozes through situations with absolutely no understanding of other people and how they might be feeling. The list, dripping with negativity, goes on. Do I think that any of this is a reason to therapise him? No, I do not. Because what I see is a boy who is curious about specific things. Who loves to be around people and soak up their energy but doesn't interact in the way I would. I find that fascinating and enlightening. Who will chase bubbles for endless periods of time. Who will light up an entire room with his infectious giggle and thousand Watt smile. Who notices intricate details that I never would. Who will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants. Who placidly gives back what he has 'stolen' and carries on his merry way. Who cuddles and tickles and giggles and chases and curls up with stories and loves and who melts my heart when he comes home and runs into my arms, saying, 'Nunny, nunny, nunny' in the most adorable voice ever. What I see is what he is and not what he isn't. 

Of course, I am guilty of losing it, frequently, of getting driven crazy when HE WILL NOT PUT ON HIS SHOES WITHOUT ME CHASING HIM ROUND THE HOUSE, HIM SHRIEKING WITH DELIGHT. Of course I'm not bloody perfect and all accepting. No one is. But what I DO accept is that my little bundle of wonders will never be like the neurotypicals and nor would I want him to be. Why would I try and 'train' the autism out of him? Why would I invest in a reward system to make him squash who he is? To learn that he needs to behave in a certain way to fit in? To make him question his worth when he is perfect as he is? No. No, I will not do that to him. 

The advice that was asked of me was about specific methods of 'reducing autism symptoms'. Well, what in the hell does that even mean? The only time I think behaviour therapy is a necessary thing is if the child is self injuring or is aggressive. That's literally all I got. E is going to need a bit of carrot and stick training to learn that running away in a huge city, at the pace he does, surrounded by cars, isn't a good idea. I'm willing to accept that. But for everything else? Nope. No siree, no way. His behaviour is fine. He shouts 'theess waaan" on repeat, louder and louder, in order to get what he wants. I'd say most parents battle with that. Invariably, I give in. I am currently wearing so many hats that I seriously NEED to pick my battles; autism mum, solo mum, pandemic mum, trauma mum, working mum...it's endless and it's exhausting. But it is worth everything to let my child learn happiness, love and acceptance. Because surely, at the end of the day, that is actually all that matters: the Tiny Humans are happy and full of love for life. As I've said countless times, I worry constantly about not doing enough, being enough, getting enough (therapies, etc) and that this pandemic will have stolen irreplaceable time for E to have had the correct interventions that will better set him up for navigating life. But my very wise mum said very recently that I have a happy child and not every child has that right now. And she is 100% right. Happiness trumps everything. So be off with you, Behaviourists! We are fine as we are. 

Another year over...

Well. What a motherloving MESS of a year that was, eh? I really love everyone's 'SEE YA 2020!' posts; the sheer hopefulness and perhaps shortsightedness (sorry Cynical Sue) that we will wake up on the 1st January 2021 and things will Just. Be. Better. I mean, wouldn't that be lovely? Maybe it will be true. Maybe we all just need to read that book 'The Secret' and manifest the shit out of life?? Manifest Coronavirus out of our lives and let the good times roll? I'm up for it if you are. 

Life in Lima. I am thrilled to report that it is FINALLY better. The boy has returned. The happy, curious, exploradora, hilarious, hyper, inquisitive, clever, loving, affectionate little cookie has come back to me. All the time, a few months ago, when New Nanny was asking me what to do about the behaviour, the tantrums, the screaming, the unbearableness of it all and I was desperately shrieking, 'I DON'T KNOW, THIS ISN'T MY CHILD!!' (obviously, he is my child, but you get what I mean...that could get confusing for someone unfamiliar with how adoption works!!), all that time I was wondering if I'd broken him forever. If he'd ever come back. If she'd believe that this wasn't him. I genuinely felt like I was completely and utterly alone through that. Not a single person understood what we were going through. Not a single person could help or walk with me through it. And that was maybe tougher than the times when I was actually physically alone and trying to teach and look after him, 3 dogs and a cat on my own. I miss my Bee. :( There is no maybe. That period, that chapter of #quarantinechaos2020 was the absolute worst because my baby was screaming, literally, in pain and I had absolutely no way of helping him and fixing it. 

Here we are now. After knowing that I had to just be there, at all times, available at the drop of a Zoom, and never insisting that he go outside with New Nanny or that I ever leave the house, ever, we are here. It's such a funny thing, instinct. People question all the time, with their words, with their faces, with their actions, if my son is really my son. How I could possibly know and love him the way they love their babies who they grew in their tummy. How I could possibly know and love him when someone else grew him. I see it a lot. I will never know what it's like to grow a baby and give birth to them, but I can tell you that I know my child like I know myself. And I love him beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Or, in fact, that's not true. That is what people say, isn't it, that they could never have imagined this amount of love. I did. I did imagine that. I already had it there, waiting. I love him the exact amount I knew I would. I have always known this and maybe that makes me weird because people don't generally say that, but I knew, I knew  that I would love this much and it's nice to know you're right about one thing in this crazy world. So learning to trust my instincts about what my child needs, when I think I don't know, when I think I'm drowning and should maybe listen to the 'this is a phase' thing that other people are telling me, is something I need to keep working on. I was right about what he was going through and what he needed. We definitely need to find a therapist to play the hell out of this and work it all through very, very soon and I can only hope there's not more lasting damage come out of the fact he was abandoned again. I can only hope that my love is enough to repair some of the wounds this year has caused. 

But for now, we are out the other side and I have my happy little genius back. He has learned some new words and is making more and more progress with speech all the time. 'Peace' - the word written in the book I got from Santa as a little girl, featuring me and my siblings, is his favourite right now. 'PEESH!', he declares loudly, beaming that beautiful smile from ear to ear. The word 'pish' has a special connection to someone in my past and I can't help but laugh when E is shouting this and I think of how the long 'ee' and short 'i' are so interchangable in Spanish... if you know, you know. :)

It's also time to make loads of decisions for our future now. I think I know and then something else happens. It's tough. What I do know is that E HAS to go to school next year. Yes, everyone has missed out this year. That is true and, as a teacher, I have felt that so deeply for my kids on screen. How hard I've tried to connect with them and have them connect with each other. How much I've felt that the only thing that matters is if they're happy, safe and feel connected to us. I give exactly no fucks if they know their 5 x tables. None. So I don't care if E knows how to add or write his name (he does) but when you are socially challenged already and you've missed a crucial year of socialising, what does that mean for the future? When you are already facing significant challenges in life, what does that mean for the future? I don't need him in school to count and learn how to write stupid CVC words. I literally don't care. I need him in school to learn that there are more people in the world than 'Nunny'. There are things to be shared and played with and laughed about and explored alongside. There are other Tiny Humans with which to share your life. These are the things I fret about all day, every day, pretty much and how on Earth I'm going to fix it all. 

But that is that. And what comes next will just be whatever comes next that I have to start another fight for... and he is worth every single last molecule of energy that's in me. 

Happy New Year, friends. Ending this year full of gratitude for my son, the life we have together, our gorgeous dogs and the memory of my beautiful Bee. xxxx

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?!