***Warning Whiney Blog Post Incoming***

Oh boy. Ok, I am happy I really am. I had the sonogram on my uterus today and everything looked fine. I have been losing weight, and am relatively in the best shape I have been in, in two years. We have a house, a car, a motorcycle and two awesome cats. The Man loves his job and Dylan is getting three classes a week for his therapy.

This is the part where I whine.

The Man, is trying to quit again.... again. He blames me for making him start up again after a week of not having a cigarette. He wanted to quit, I didn't, so I started back up again. Then he started also. He BLAMED ME. I mean come on... seriously. Uhg. He is also going through this depression type thing, where he hates everything, and is in no mood to socialize or go out and do things.

Yes we are broke at the moment, yes, we have debt, yes we just moved to a new place and do not know anyone. But, honestly, he doesn't try. I have recently joined a stay at home mother's group. I went to a tastefully simple party last Thursday and met this really cool chick named Shannon.

This is a big thing for me, I am craving friends and attention. She is coming over tomorrow with her two year old and her puppy to hang out and socialize. The Man told me to tell her that he isn't here and not to bother him. He doesn't and I quote, " Want to have to act charming and fake for company." Wow. He is on 'vacation' right now from work, he took Monday thru Wednesday off. I am finally getting out of the clam shell I have been in since High School and he is not even supporting me at all.

All he does is surf on the Internet, watch football, mope and veg. He does do things around the house, don't get me wrong. We made an agreement when we had Dylan, that I would be Susie Homemaker and he would be the breadwinner. I am fine with this. I honestly am. But after I have been home with Dylan all day, I kinda hope that he would come home to play with him and pay a lot of attention to him. But he kinda does and then goes to do his own thing.

To be perfectly honest, I don't think we were ready for kids when we got pregnant. I know personally, that I am too selfish with my time, to spend it with Dylan every second of the day. The Man is the same way, but he is an amazing father when he actually spends time with Dylan. Man this whole thing is making him seem horrible, but he is not, it's just a phase he has been going through, a slump. I wish he would come out of it.

Ok back to Dylan. I love my son more than anything, I really do, but with his Autism, I am expected to be super-uber Mom and be his primary teacher.

On to my second rant/whine topic. My son. God love him but I am going crazy. I am a smart woman, book smart and scientist smart. But when it comes to giving primary attention to a distant, autistic 2 year old who does not know how to communicate I am lost. I am not the teacher type. I always got along better with older people who I could actually hold a conversation with. With Dylan, I have to anticipate his every need, try to teach him the basics of everything in life, how to be human basically. He does not know how to talk, get what he wants, or communicate in any matter. I am stuck doing a guessing game all day... ALL FRIGGIN DAY. And when The Man comes home it is worse, because I swear that man expects me to read his mind.

I am not a bad mother, but I am not the mother I could be and should be for my son. I know that no ones ever asks for this, this challenge, but dammit, why me? I am a selfish brat, at 27. I feel like that sulking teenager who pouts whenever she cannot get what she wants. I want a normal damn son. I want to know what he is thinking. I want to know that he loves me, and enjoys being around me instead of having people tell me he feels these things. I want to take him to the park to play, not have him wander around, and then try to eat a leaf or the dirt.

The other day, Dylan was in the backyard with me while I was raking the grass clippings up. Well I didn't know it, but he was standing in a fire ant mound. The Man happened to come up to him at that time and noticed them crawling all over his hands. We both dashed inside and threw him in the shower to wash them off, and Dylan was oblivious the whole time.

Fire ants fucking hurt, I know this from experience. He didn't utter a peep. Not a tear, not a cry or whine. Nothing. This shook me to the core. My son doesn't feel pain. Does he feel anything else? Like love? I know when he is happy, because he smiles and he laughs. He likes to climb all over us and run. But what else is missing from him. No pain... no what? I was so scared. I still am scared.

Honesty, I don't ever see my son progressing to be a full social self-sufficient adult. This scares me more than anything. His mental and physical capability right now is at the 5- 7 month and 1 year old levels respectively. He is 2 years, 3 months old and still acts like a 5-7 month old...

What did I do to make this happen? I know I didn't do anything, but you ask yourself that question a lot, especially after diagnosis. I hate going around and seeing happy people, and even unhappy people with perfectly normal children and I growl internally. I joined this mothers group for me really. The time to hang around other adults who are just as crazy as I am, and their children. I know Dylan will ignore the other kids, he always does.

Another thing that bothers me is his therapy. I really don't think it is helping at all. After his three 45 minute sessions a week, The Man and I are expected to do all that they have done, 24/7. Even the most persistent parent can keep it up. I feel totally guilty that I don't do everything they suggest. I mean.. I am scared that if I don't, Dylan will be stuck growing up with the mind of an infant, and it will be all my fault. With such a tender and fragile psyche as mine, I don't need that looming over my head.

I also miss the hell out of my family. My parents, The Man's parents even cousins and uncles and aunts and friends. I need help dammit, I really do. I can't do this alone. I am being expected to, and I can't. Most days it takes all I have not to smash my forehead against the wall in frustration. I am lonely and I need help with my own little family. Does that make me a failure as an adult? Make me lazy and selfish and immature? I am a 27 year old mother of a special needs son and a moody husband, I have no close friends here or family even in this state.

Well, I don't know if this post was even worth writing, or just something I should delete. I don't feel sorry for myself. I will pick up and move on with the everyday. I just need some serendipity. Something that will let me know that I am alright, doing good, a good Mom and wife and friend and everything will be fine. Just one sign. Or a ton of signs. A big ass mack truck of signs.

Did this make me feel better? Maybe, it sure as hell made me put things into perspective. I can't be comedy and smiley roses all the time.

I'll save that for my next post.