Diary of a Metal Mommy

Every morning I wake to a cuppa decaf and a peruse of the CNN news site on my computer.  My day just does not feel complete unless I have made a quick scan of what's going on in the world.  Of course being informed with worthy news stories also eventually leads to catching up on the latest gossip--I mean, why not?!  

This morning I found myself reading about Gwyneth Paltrow's web site titled 'Goop'.  I guess many people are totally ripping on her with a sort of 'who do you think you are?' pondering.  I honestly don't get it.  OK, so after glancing at the site many of the things she suggests are things that normal people like you and I who don't have millions of dollars and aren't beautiful privileged celebrities would never do, buy, or have access to.  But who the hell cares?  I don't get what they are picking on her for.

Honestly I've never really cared one way or another about Gwyneth--she's a fine actress who has done some great roles but to me will mostly be remembered as yet another one of Brad's conquests--so it's not like I feel some grand loyalty to her.  But it really is beyond me as to why people really give a rip about what others do with their spare time. Doesn't just about everyone and their dog have a blog these days, sharing their stories and giving their own opinions?  In MY humble opinion, this whole Goop/Gwyneth thing is much ado about nothing. Honestly I'm more disturbed by the web site of the fitness guru that Gwyneth touts, Tracy Anderson. Curious about her method I checked her out and was disturbed by the 'gallery' images of her, clearly turned on by her own image in the mirror and pouting like a Playboy Bunny bimbo. Sure, she's toned but WAY too skinny, and not the kind of healthy look/person I would aspire to be.  It totally turned me off of even wanting to try her exercise program. Guess I'll stick to Billy!!!

OK, so technically the Celebrex pill I just took isn't red, it's actually white...but taking it I feel like Neo from the Matrix, making the decision to go down into the rabbit hole of the unknown.  The Pity Party is over,  (at least this one is...don't worry, I'll probably invite you to the next...)  and now we're in Action mode. I'm finally talking to a 'real' doctor about my back stuff.  For an odd reason I really don't quite understand, my chiropractor had me see a rheumatologist (verses an orthopedist) to try to get down to the nitty gritty as to why I'm dealing with these debilitating problems.  Honestly I could not repeat what this doctor said --I was completely amazed at his knowledge and it was mostly Greek to me...but the guy seems smart and I'm rolling with it. So as not to bore my two faithful readers with all of the medical mumbo-jumbo, I may just have bad swelling of the muscle that is brought on by degenerative disc disease and loose ligaments.  nice.  So really there is no CURE, but at least this guy is trying to find me some pain relief.  This is where the Celebrex comes in.  

Now you remember me mentioning before that I am allergic to all NSAIDS (ibuprofin, asprin, Alleve...anything that relaxes muscles) but this med is supposedly a different TYPE of NSAID.  Even the pharmacist says to me, "Now you do know this is an NSAID, right?" yeah, right.  But it is my last choice and I guess I'll just go for it.  Because I'm allergic to so many things, taking any medication is almost as anxiety-ridden as the pain or whatever it is I'm going through itself.  I never know how I'll react.  (and typically, it's bad.)  So!  Here it is, about 10 minutes after I've taken the Red Pill, and I'm still here to type about it.  So far, so good...

My dear friend Stephanie has known how frustrated I am with all of this and thought I needed some serious relaxation....so she and I headed over to the Ivy Spa for a massage.  And not just any massage, my friends...a 100 minute hot stone message!  Alas, I can even find anxiety in a relaxing massage...as Stephanie and I sat in the 'relaxation room', robed and in our little plastic spa shoes, I mention to her that I truly hope I'm not going to be worked on by some hot dude.  I've only had one other full body message in my life, and it was from a woman.  That is just something I have to wonder about, what kind of guy would want to message naked ladies with oil all day long??  Exactly...!  I just wanted to relax and not worry that he's getting a peek at my 42 year old boobs, my annoying little muffin top that has a way of turning into a pancake when I lay on my side or my weird little pinky toenail.  Not 5 minutes later, two hot young dudes stop in front of us and say, "Susie?  Stephanie?"  and lead us each into our own rooms.  grief!  I had to be the most high-maintenance client that poor guy had. I couldn't lay on my stomach for long, so he had to work on me whilst I lay on my sides.  (I'm almost sure he must have had a booby shot then.  sigh.)  Then I had to jump up and pee halfway through the thing.  But let me tell you, if you ever have a chance to have a massage with those hot rocks--hot dude or not!--jump at it!  When I finally stopped thinking about my flab or my corn-toe I really enjoyed myself. Those rocks are the perfect temperature--just hot enough that if they were 1 more degree they would be TOO hot.  It was nothing short of amazing.  Which is what I can say about my friend Stephanie, for doing that for me.  Beyond!!!

Well, I'm still breathing--so maybe this will work after all?  Time will tell.  I also had some blood tests taken to rule out any sort of arthritis that could be brewing in there.  Nice.  If I have arthritis that will REALLY make me feel old!  But this Metal Mommy has got to keep rockin' and rollin', even tho someday I'll probably be in one of those mobility scooters.  I'll rig it up so that I've always got music blasting from it, threatening to mow people down in Byerlys, throwing them the heavy metal salute.  Gotta make the best of what you've got, get yourself through The Matrix as best you can.  God Speed!

I am doing nothing today.  Absolutely nothing.  I’m busy having a Pity Party for myself and that takes up all of my time and energy.  Well, I take that back…in the Valentine spirit I did attempt to make heart-shaped sugar cookies for my family.  I had made the dough yesterday and was all prepared as soon as Sullivan got on the bus to start rolling and cutting, frosting and decorating.  This is a labor of love, my friends, as I have recently finally come to admit my failure as the Good Mother and Wife and stand up to say, “My name is Susie and I hate to bake roll-out cookies.”  And doing a task you truly can’t stand in the middle of a Pity Party—I believe that gets extra points.   I was ready to take on this task with a heart full of love, simply because I know my kids (and husband too, I’m sure) would be delighted.  (and obviously it’s something they rarely get!!)  The dough, however, was not going to cooperate with me.  I have a feeling my mother-in-law forgot something in the recipe, as all the refrigeration and extra flour in the world would not help this dough be rolled out without sticking to everything, forget getting it off the counter and onto the baking sheet in any shape resembling a heart.  So the dough went into the garbage, along with any will to do anything else today except prepare myself to schlep on into work later this afternoon.

Schlepping is definitely the word to describe me today—well, today and for the past 2-3 weeks or so as I’ve been battling an on-going back problem. Hence the reason for my party.  Who knows what started it?  I have no idea.  I didn’t get into a car accident, reach to get something in a funny way, sneeze whilst bending over.  There is no rhyme or reason this time for my current condition and that just gives me more reason to celebrate.  I have lived with this back thing for years now, a few times in my life it has left me bedridden for a week or so before I am finally able to hobble around, all bent to one side, gripping the wall or whatever else is close by to get me from point A to point B.  Luckily most of the time it’s not that severe, but I can honestly say not one single day goes by without me being in at least a small amount of pain and/or stiffness.  Before this recent bout, if I felt a bit stiff I’d lay down on my side for a few and it would work itself out.  Not this time.  Before this, there was always something that triggered it to get to this teetery point, but I honestly can’t think of  thing that I did.  This scares me. (and if only I looked this glamorous with my back ache...!!)

Turning 40 is bad enough without having to deal with an on-going condition that makes you feel like you're 80.  I have too much life to live and enjoy to worry about getting from point A to point B!!!  I gave up water-skiing, dancing, my beloved Tae Kwon Do, the idea of ever doing anything ultra-physical or even walking or driving long distances long ago and have (more or less) come to terms with that.  But getting from point A to point B is just living life, my friends.  I need to go to work and be on my feet for hours.  I need to get in and out of the car without worries of my back REALLY going out.  I need to be able to lay down and get comfortable so I can get a good night’s sleep.

And did I mention that I can’t take any medications for the pain?  This party just gets better and better, doesn’t it??  No Advil, Motrin, Aleve, Aspirin—any pain reliever but Tylenol (which does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for back pain) can I take because I am allergic to NSAIDS, which are the main components in these life-savers.  Damn if I can’t even take the fun stuff like Vicodin.  (alas, I don’t think they’ll let me live on morphine.  Imagine what shape cookies I’d be making on that stuff?!)  So, I live with it.

Honestly, I HATE complaining. I don’t like it when other people do it, and I don’t like to listen to myself do it.  Typically I don’t invite people to my Pity Parties—I just soldier on with a happy face and hope that eventually pretending turns into reality.  And it usually does.  But sometimes, darn it all—one just has to give in and let yourself be disappointed in your situation.  It takes a lot of energy to put on that happy face all the time and frankly sometimes I reach a point where I just can’t NOT complain.  So there it is.  Put on the party hats and get out the streamers.  Blow the noisemakers and eat the cake.  It’s a Pity Party, and you’re invited. And now you may leave, go on to the next party and be done pitying me. Hopefully soon this episode will be a bad memory and I’ll wake up with a lampshade on my head and gladly do the walk of shame on home.  And it will be walking, not schlepping!!!

As I sit here listening to Sullivan humming away in the bathtub I am filled with relief that he is generally a happy kid.  They say Happy Mommy = Happy Kids, well the opposite is also most certainly true.  Any mom can tell you that when your child is grieving--whether it be over a dead pet or because Dad ate the last cookie--it is a dark day indeed.  You feel those feelings as if they are your own.  And when your child is getting picked on, it's a stab to the chest with which the simple act of breathing becomes difficult.

Even though I would never begrudge any mother her right to martyrdom--heck, we've all earned that right!-- I dare to say I might get an extra thorn since I am the parent of a child with Asperger's Syndrome.  I honestly don't have the spirit or will to explain what that is for those of you who may stumble upon this not knowing me or what Asperger's is--just Google it and you'll get all the information you need. (and then some!)  Let's just say that although we are extremely blessed with the fact that his condition is very 'mild'--for lack of a better word--it definitely presents it's unique challenges.  Now I'm not naive enough to think that Sullivan is the only kid with challenges in this world...as all of us parents know, a kid doesn't need to have a diagnosis to have issues and give us gray hairs!  The thing that's tough with this Asperger's thing is that there is no cure, which means that even though Sullivan can learn to deal with a lot of his issues it will never come naturally for him to do so.  Many things 'typical' kids go through they eventually outgrow.  And what's particularly frustrating about it all is that I truly love so many of the quirks and behaviors that this syndrome brings to his personality and as Momma Bear, I just desperately want other people--mainly his peers--to also see that oh-so-lovable boy that is Sullivan.  Don't they see how smart he is?  How clever and hilarious?  How he's the first to counter something with a poignant comeback or joke?  How he genuinely cares and worries about you even if he often has a hard time of showing it?  How he is the most lovable, snuggly boy who makes up songs about how much he loves you and always wants a hug?  Honestly, he doesn't need to be 'cured'.  But generally, that's not the way our world works.  If someone is perceived as 'different' for any reason, it's the gallows for them. He doesn't want to sign up for hockey or soccer like most other kids in the neighborhood or be rough and tumble.  And kids have a nasty way of picking up that difference, like a dog scenting fear--even if it's not completely obvious.

Not long ago Sullivan started to get teased on the bus.  From what I could get out of it (which as you parents know is often not much!) it all started with a boy teasing him because he had chapstick on, saying it was lipstick and that Sullivan was like a girl.  sigh.  Sad to say, but typical teasing behavior.  But what really got my hackles up was when it escalated to the point of a boy taking Sullivan's hand and pushing it back at the wrist.  Now I know I can't--and shouldn't--protect my children from every tough thing that comes their way, but physical bullying?  Hell to the no!  Eventually Sullivan would come home without his hat, saying it was tossed around the bus and he never got it back.  And even though Sullivan was always sitting in the very front seat of the bus, the driver was apparently clueless about it all.  

It's hard to describe the feelings you have when your child goes through something like this. You know teasing is a part of life that most kids have to go through in one way or another--heck, I sure did.  You feel so helpless and hurt for your child, and a sheer disappointment in the human race in general. You wonder how much to step in, and how much you need to let go so they can grow that protective shell that we all need to have to bumble our way through this often perilous world.  I will say one thing--it upset me more than it did him.  That is one of the beauties of Asperger's...it tends to go right over his head. As a Mommy however, I wonder how much of that he does feel under the surface, growing slowly like a cancer that will some day take over and it will be too late--all the hugs, kisses and model cars in the world will not make that pain go away.  I have to admit for a little while there I crawled into my cave and was ready to hibernate until it was all over.  Instead I called the teacher, the principal of the school and the bus company and got things in order.  The kids were talked to, the bus driver reprimanded and a seating chart was made.  I am Momma Bear, hear me roar.

I have to say I do feel good about what I accomplished--it's so metal to be demanding and speak up for what you need, after all--and I know that the bus has had a reputation that hopefully now will get better because of this whole mess.  Maybe I made other kids' lives a little more pleasant too.  But being my son is only in elementary school I know it's just the beginning of my journey through that thick and tangled forest.  Thank goodness for family, friends, decaf coffee, JRR Tolkien, a G and T here and there and potty humor to get me through!!