Running on Empty

"Running on - running on empty
Running on - running blind

Running on - running into the sun

But I'm running behind"   Jackson Browne 

I've said it before. I don't have the "Mommy Mopes" about summer ending and school starting.  I have more the "Dear Lord, If I slipped the van driver a fifty, do you think she would pick him up a day earlier?" gene.  I don't wax nostalgic on my social media about how sad I will be to see him go to school. I don't cry at the bus as he boards.  I'm the Mom who's singing show tunes and dancing in the street in her pajamas and slippers.  Goodbye, Good Luck, Get OUT! 

Hmmm, I sound rather heartless don't I?  Well if you want me to be more heart full, I need a muthatruckin' break from my kiddo.  Yes, I know school is not babysitter blah blah blah... I don't expect it to be, not in the beginning of the year but let's be real here. You all know that last week in June they are phoning it in.  Folks at my kid's school who may be reading, don't get your knickers in a twist me saying this. You forget I used to work in a school.  It's okay.  I'm actually fine with it because seeing as my kiddo is an only child, the socialization alone is worth him going in those last few days too.   Plus, I really do need to soak up as much quiet as I can for the months ahead.  

This summer was an effing doozy.  I really don't know what else to call it.  We were busy and some really cool stuff did happen.  Like the kiddo finally getting the boot out of our bed.   It cost us buying a TV for his room that's nicer than the one in my own room but I say it was worth it.  We still have nights of him getting up and trying to wiggle his way in but he's accepted the fact I will zombie walk him back to his room, tuck him in and leave.  No middle of the night meltdown, I'll take it.  Some nights he doesn't even do that at all but I seem to stay up anyway waiting for him to come in just the same.  I don't suggest that.  In fact I'd really like my brain to stop thinking that will happen.  I'd really like to sleep.  I'm also confused by the fact I am getting up in the same place I went to sleep but I can't say I miss sleeping with Lighting McQueen and Tow Mater.  This husband guy I spend the night with now seems nice.

The anxiety though, that's gonna be my undoing.  His and my own.  I get it. He feels his safest with me.  He knows he can let it all hang out. He knows no matter how out of control he acts, I'll still love the adorable little sonofagun more than life itself.  I do. It's true.  I know I don't share pictures of him but trust me. My kiddo is seriously good looking.  Like Derek Zoolander "Blue Steel" male model handsome.  I don't know how anything that good looking came out of me to be honest.  We are at a point this summer where I would rather be Naomi Campbell's assistant diving from flying cell phones than take another day of his diva antics.  Yes, I am calling it like I see it.  My son IS a diva.  That freaks me out because I can't always be there to pick up the pieces and do the damage control.  It some ways maybe it's better he saves the meltdowns for me because I wouldn't know where to start if he was doing them for everyone else.

I have to be honest.  Living with autism in this house is hard.  Very, very hard.  I often feel like I'm running on fumes and walking on eggshells.  Sometimes I'm so tired of it.  It's not always the special gift from above.  It's not a shower of unicorn kisses.  It's not a puffy cloud of angels singing.  Sometimes it's a lamp being thrown at you.  It's pets that sigh when they hear the familiar start of a meltdown and hide from the wrath of the kiddo.  I have to juggle checking my anger that my latest purchase from Target just went airborne while making sure the kiddo is safe.  I have to calmly talk him down while talking myself down that this too shall pass.

Every start of the new school year I do get nervous when I wonder "What has he lost this summer?  What will the teacher email me about?  Will I get a dreaded phone call?"  The summertime regression BLOWS.  No other way to describe that.  I feel we are always behind on something that we now need to cram and catch up.  What are we not learning because we are too busy relearning what we lost?

All I know is come Thursday, the toughest choice I am going to have to make is what color to put on my toes when I go get a pedicure.  Hmmm, maybe I ought to wait a few days on that.  The nail shop will have a ton of other tired mommies who will feel compelled to be social and want to talk about their glorious summers and how sad they are see their kids back in school.  No wait, I have my ear buds and my phone.  Sorry gals, Mama Fry will be on a sensory break.  Talk amongst yourselves. Mame needs to refuel with a foot massage and some Jackson Browne.