How are Things?

Tag: parenting

  • Thursday 10th July 2025

    A confession; I am as white as boiled rice. The sun and all its works wring me out more thoroughly than linen on a washer board. Yesterday saw me moving across town, until I gathered my son and two of his friends to go see a movie. It went well, which was a relief; as a boy with autism friendship isn’t a certainty. But getting home by 6pm with the weather in the 70s saw me drained far beyond my capacities. I made dinner, and then I tidied up, and then I felt myself more empty than a dry gas tank. I was in bed by 8.40pm, and slept hard until 4am. I want to call it moral decline, but honestly it’s sadder than that; it’s old age.

    Today, with all my hours of sleep behind me, I still felt exhausted. But up and at it, at 5am. Not all things got done, but all things were attempted, even when I wanted to give up.

    I even managed to have lunch with my sister. We rarely if ever get together. Her daughter, my niece, has been through hell and back, and now has had her long term partner break up with her. The weight of the sadness I know she is going through… The gift of today was seeing my sister again, though. Salads and chats, and catching up. Plans and hopes for the future, especially when I thought once it might never happen.

    Afternoon, I had my online session with my counsellor. We talked over the week, my exhaustion, and possible plans for change. I have sought out so much change recently that I hesitate. I doubt myself. I would love new pastures, but only if they’re pastures, not battlefields. I want everything to be All Right. Which of us don’t?

  • Thursday 26th June; Part One

    I have long suspected that I am a character in a TV show. One of the reasons for this is that each year there is one day that is a culmination of all the events and themes of that particular year; a season finale, if you will. This year, that day was this Thursday.

    I was up at 5am as I usually am, and I carried out my meditation, exercises, and tried to get as many emails as possible done. However, at 11am, there was to be a reception that my unit was hosting, seeing every other unit in our section potentially joining us. A complication was that I was due at a hugely important meeting from 10am. A further complication was that Problematic Colleague was no longer available to assist; in fact, it was quite likely they would show their face so as to point out errors, demean me to others, and likely have help in their efforts from my boss. A secondly supposedly helpful colleague frankly refused for no reason other than she didn’t like my boss.

    The new online finance system saw delay after delay in getting the purchase order system to the Caterers. I finally got it out to them Wednesday evening, and when I arrived Thursday morning I wasn’t sure if the items would be there in good time; even if they would arrive at all.

    I needn’t have worried. Tea, coffee and thirty beautifully arranged cupcakes were delivered at 9.30 am, giving me plenty of time to rearrange the boardroom tables, set out the catering, and… the vegan options? Where were the vegan options? I thought briefly about contacting the caterers, but remembered the pale faces of the two men, already worn out before 10am. So instead I grabbed my wallet, and got two large vegan bags of cookies from the online shop, as well as grabbing a handful of napkins as well. By 9. 45am everything was set up.

    I took the time to remove old coffee stains from desks, and gave everything one last stare. It is impossible to see every error, every gap, especially by those who strive so hard to locate them. All I could see was a neat and calm set up, with chairs and tables dotted around, treats made ready and welcoming, and a proper reception ready to go. Was it enough? Would fault be found?

    No, and yes. But there was nothing more I could do about it now. I was due at my Hugely Important Meeting. So I locked up the boardroom, handed the key to fellow colleague, emailed my boss regarding all the details, gathered the rest of my papers, and moved on to Part Two…

  • Sunday 22nd June 2025

    Good evening, all. I’m writing this while under the covers, my cat making herself comfortable at my feet. It is Sunday night, after a busy week, and I wanted to take a few minutes to say hello.

    This week saw me take my car in for testing. Unfortunately it failed, in that the diesel filter needs cleaning and that is a job that takes several thousand euro. I will need to get that arranged, and I am not sure how or when I will be able to find the time.

    My annoying and very unpleasant colleague has finally left the unit. My boss seems to believe that the right thing to do is to have Annoying colleague still on the books in case she is needed. This is annoying, again. And I will have not so much a performance review, but an objective-planning meeting this Tuesday. I actually hate speaking to my boss these days, in that my body actually reacts to it.

    Also this week my son will be leaving his primary school. He is nonchalant about it, in that he seems to feel he will be able to go back and visit at Christmas. Yes, he will, but he will face a very different world in secondary school, one that has a lot of new demands to make on him. I am weepy at the thought of leaving his old school, and I very much pine already for the understanding nature of his teachers. I felt able to exhale there. Now, it is very different, as it has to be. I fear if I show him how large the mountain ahead is, he will lose hope.

    And on Saturday, my son and I took our much loved cat to the vet. She had shown no illness or symptoms but as she had never been to a vet before it seemed the wisest thing. Getting the poor thing on a leash was very hard, and then we had to bring her in the car, another trauma. When we got there, we had to wait for over 45 minutes. Eventually we were told that she has bad teeth, bad hips and needs her vaccinations updated; all told, it comes in as over €1,500. That may have to be done in payments, I think.

    After that, we went to go visit my sister’s child; I’ll tell you all about that interaction next time!

  • 18th June 2025

    Good evening, all. Another day is done, and the sun has set. This day has been hotter than normal, a dry, unblinking heat setting over the city and into the suburbs. My son is approaching the end of his primary school education, and to celebrate the school takes children on what they call a Leaver’s Tour. It means that I had to collect him an hour later than usual, a short vigil in the car while trying not to fall asleep.

    He’s on a high right now, as his last report card from his school was full of praise for the young man he’s become. They worked so well with him. He had struggled at his previous school, which had been a private, fee paying school. They had despised his outgoing ways, and loathed him even more when he received an Autism diagnosis. That is not an exaggeration: the overly fussy principal had shook her bob and said, “Sorry, he’ll have to go,” when I presented the recommendation report. When I had demanded his right to remain, they made the rest of his time there punative in an effort to force him out. When covid had arrived, they were almost gleeful.

    That was a very hard time.

    Getting the diagnosis came after the end of a personal struggle, and one day I will give the full report of it. Then the school he eventually went to came about after a long search online, then contacting them, and then a near magical walkthrough where my son found it amazingly comforting and positive. They were everything the other school wasn’t, a nearly rosy glow of support after years of outright obstacles. He thrived there.

    And now he is moving to a new school, a secondary school near our new home that has an autism support dog, a unit he can retreat to, and a full range of classes that will work with the skills he has, rather than the skills they feel he should have.

    For a short brief moment a few weeks back I listened to his father. That happens when I feel vulnerable or unsure. The subject options outside the core were Art, Graphic Design, and Geography. His father, paranoid due to Trump and a need to hope for chaos, wanted him to take Geography. For some reason I listened to him, the man who at every stage made the worst possible decisions. When my son realised he would not be taking Graphic Design he was horrified, and I realised what I had done. I had listened to his father’s fears, rather than ask myself what was right for my son. I put the question to his current school as well, and they answered immediately in the affirmative; Art and Graphic Design. His skills there are above anyone else they have ever seen. There is no reason to do otherwise.

    I have contacted his new school to make the change, and they rang us on the way home from my collecting him. I’ll confirm the details tomorrow, but hopefully I will never listen to his father again. I am vulnerable, perhaps, lonely and feeling uncertain about myself. My experiences in work and in other areas mean I would like support, and when that happens I fawn, and bend, far too much. I asked myself today, though, what it would be like to be back with his father.

    Then I snatched up the facecloth on the side of the sink and screamed, three times, into it, only stopping when I realised that screaming didn’t help.

    So what have we learned? That making decisions based on fear is always wrong. And that I have a vulnerability right now, in that I would like more assurance about my decisions. It will make no impact on me at all, as when I think about having a relationship I become very, very angry. But the need is there. Even the sturdiest trees sometimes need support.