Is This My Life?

I'm struggling.  I want to write.  There is so much I want to do; I have been getting sucked into huge time-wasters like television {The Following and Revolution are so good!} and video games {just one--Monsters Run on the iPad, but I felt the need to beat all of the levels}, and the important stuff {cleaning, blogging, preparing church lessons, etc.} falls to the side.

I also want to be a good mom, but I'm just not.  Here are some actual quotes of things I have said to Benji today {he is out of school for Spring Break, and I didn't have to work today}.

• "Good morning, naked boy."
• "Please don't chew on the toilet seat!"
• "Don't eat the flash drive!"
• "The iPad is not for spinning."
• "Why did you pee in Mommy's bed?"
• "Your shirt does not go on your feet."
• "You don't need another shower--you have had two already."
• "You don't have to touch everything!"
• {After knocking over a whole shelf of hair mousse at Target} "That was totally unnecessary!"
• "Turn around and sit on the toilet like a normal boy!"

Those are just examples.  Today was a hard day; I have been trying to have him dress himself, but he won't pay attention.  He'll be looking around when he's supposed to be putting his legs in his pants, so he puts them on backwards or both legs in the same hole, so we do it over and over again.  He is so sweet and so frustrating and so predictable and so difficult.  He has been pretty good about asking for things, and we have been trying to get him to use complete sentences.  He has "want, please" down; it's the other words that get mixed up.  He used to refer to everything as "Skittles," but now he asks {almost exclusively} for the iPad.  I was trying to get him to ask for banana bread today, and I would have accepted "bread," "snack," etc.  This is our conversation:

Benji:  "Pwease . . . want . . . pwease . . . want."

Me: "I want . . ."

B: "Pwease."

M:  "What do you want?"

B:  "Whaayouwant?"  {repeating what I said, or echolalia}

M:  "I want . . ."

B:  "Want . . . iPad . . . pwease."

M:  "This is not an iPad.  This is banana bread.  Say 'bread.'"

B:  "Bread."

M:  "Good.  Bread.  Now say, 'I want bread please.'"

B:  "Want . . . iPad . . . pwease . . . bread . . . pwease . . . want."

Eventually I would give in when he got close enough.  Just the fact that he is communicating what he wants is huge.  I need to keep that in perspective.

The thing is, I have to remind myself {constantly} of perspective.  I'm always having to step back and remember the basics: I chose this.  I always wanted to be a mother.  He won't always be this needy.  But I also have to balance that with the guilt that doesn't ever really go away.  I should be spending more time with him.  I'm too selfish.  I need to be more patient.  

Actually, today {April 2nd} is Autism Awareness Day.  I didn't do anything for it, just like I didn't do anything for April Fool's Day {yesterday} or for Easter {two days ago}.  And there's more guilt: I want to be a cute mom who makes a big deal about holidays and makes traditions for her family.   I didn't even get Benji a basket.  

I feel like such a slacker, and such a bad mother.  Perspective, I know.  It's hard to keep when you feel like an utter failure all the time.  I'm grateful Benji is so absorbed in his own world, so he doesn't see just how crappy a mother I really am.

I know, God doesn't send you any trials you can't handle . . . He sends children with special needs to strong parents, blah, blah, blah.  I get that.  Perspective.  But sometimes I just want to say "screw it."  Yeah, to stay sane you have to look at the big picture.  But right now, it sucks.  Benji didn't get back into Pingree next year, so he'll have to go back to the public schools, and kindergarten will most likely be a half-day instead of the full-day he is currently getting.  That sucks.  Big time.  I'm probably going to have to change my work schedule to 3-11pm, five days per week.  I can see the next year of my life being sucked away, which really helps with the depression situation. 

Sorry for the venting; I'm just frustrated.  I love my boy.  I love him more than anything or anyone else on earth.  It's just really hard.  There's so much I want to do with my life, but it is all I can do to try to hold on to my sanity while attempting to be a decent parent.  I'm certainly not succeeding at any of it.

*sigh*

Perspective.