Envy Accepted

Before I tackle heavy stuff (my next plan is to tackle parenting and depression), I wanted all to know how much my day ROCKS!!! Maia and I have been locked in a battle of the wills for at least a month now.  And although it would be premature of me to declare "Mission Accomplished," I will do a happy dance.  And pray that she has mercy on me later.
To add to the mirth, Maia is rocking a play date without me.  I ordered a pizza (the Daddy forbidden BBQ Chicken), popped open a Coke and turned on the TV.  Yea, Yea.... I know I watched the end of SuperWhy bopping along, but it's a super catchy tune. Don't judge! But now Dexter is hacking up a child molester into bits, so all is good.
Now, while my ass widens on the couch, there are folded clothes to be put away, dishes in the sink, and exercises to be done.  To that I say, "Garçon, another slice, S'il vous plait!"
Oh... before I let you continue on with your lives that suddenly seem less bright, I have a story to tell. Tuesday, while Maia was at swim lessons, a man walked up to me and asked, "May I be nosy?" (We all know where this is going). "Sure." "What is wrong with you?"  As a smile spread across my face and chuckle escaped my lips, "Well sir, where do we begin...."

Inquire Within.....

In my previous post, I talked about the the unsolicited help I get from strangers and how I felt that I was overly sensitive. My sensitivity stems not only from the perceived scrutiny of others, but my mostly me.  When Maia and I are out in public, I have to be pretty calculating and often fall into the trap of second guessing myself. So when a someone chimes in, as irrational as it is, they have hit my Achilles Heel, thus proving that I should not be left alone with Maia.  Worse yet, these people may just be being nice, but in my heightened state, I condemn them as doubters of The All Powerful Misty.
To those seeking a solution to such a dilemma, you are SOL. As crippling as self doubt can be, I think it is something that makes me a decent parent.  I don't portend to know what I doing makes me the perfect mama and I am more willing to scrap what's not working in favor of Plan B. Hey, wait.... Maybe I am perfect...

When arguing with a fool, make sure he is not doing the same...

How does anyone deal with unsolicited parenting advice? And why do people seem to think it is more appropriate to intervene on my behalf?  I consider myself to be pretty laid back, especially with regards to my disability.  For instance, I walked into a local medical supply store and was asked where my aide was. In my shock at their presumption, I said, "Shit, I lost her." and hauled butt out of the store.
Rarely, do I have such presence of mind to retort wittily, rather I tend either to melt into the feeble minded person they expected or ignore the comment altogether. But, when it comes to perceived questioning of my parenting abilities, my patience has been tested to the brink and I have lost the ability to laugh it off. I realize that interlopers are doing so with the best intentions, but it makes my blood boil.  Example:

About a month ago, I took Maia to the zoo. She capitalized on my weakness, and ran up the stairs waiting to see if I will be able to follow. When I wasn't, she refused to come down.  **Note to all new parents: Beware, they can smell weakness.** Quick as a flash, an older woman marched up the steps and led Maia down.  I graciously accepted her help, because I didn't have a plan yet.  However, Maia showed her hand too soon, I realized she was in a precocious mood and planned our route/rules accordingly. What I hadn't planned on, was that the woman and her entourage would shadow us throughout our visit, and that the woman would correct Maia the moment she stepped over her boundaries.  I am a capable parent, Maia was warned that if she pulled such shenanigans again, we would be going home. But, as I have adapted to my disability, so has Maia. We do things differently and my "helper" merely confused Maia until she was a mess. Which proved to the nice lady that I needed her help.  Correlation does not equal causation.

Am I over sensitive?  Probably.  I am not one to confront such Good Samaritans. Their actions come from the heart, why should my pride stand in their way?  But, even logic fails must when it comes to pride.  It should be enough that I know I am doing good, but why kid myself....

Maia, my dear, you have driven me to eat...

A consummate egoist (i.e. denier), I shall admit to only one great fault (I am sure many minor ones will come out later). I am an emotional eater.  I liken being a stay at home eater mom, to being tethered to someone who, at age 4, has mastered pressing your emotional buttons.  For sanity's sake, I need an outlet. Mine just happens to be savory, gluttonous food.
Today for instance, after Maia's dentist appointment, I agreed to Wendy's for lunch. As I sat in the drive-thru line, I reminded myself how delicious Wendy's salads are. And then Maia started singing, "I have 4,4 cavities, won't my Daddy be so mad at me... (to the tune of Baby Bumblebee)" And I began to think about how mad Geoff would be: at me.  As my emotional meter started rising, so did my desire for French Fries. It was just a slippery slope from there.
Drive-thrus are essential to me. I have tried, disastrously, eating at pseudo-healthy fast food restaurants without drive-thrus.  Here is a typical journey:

• Step One: Muster the energy to unstrap your child from the one thing that has successfully kept her in one place. 
• Step Two: Keep her entertained in line (preferably without getting Baker Acted). Why did we chose Panera at noon? 
• Step Three: Order food while ignoring her screams for cookies. 
• Step Four (most often where disaster strikes): Carry the food/drinks to the seat of Maia's choosing. You know, the one most difficult to reach.  

This stymies most able-bodied moms, so why do I attempt it? Quite simply, I don't. 
But alas, my emotional eating is complicating my overall well-being. As my joints would make an eighty year old cringe, I shouldn't gain weight.
But to that I say, what's the point of living in the south, if you can't enjoy the fixins'?

Introductions

Although I believe my first blog has done more to introduce my mindset, here is some important stuff you should probably know about me.

It took my forever to embrace the realm of blogging and am still quite leery of my forays. I hate to put too much of myself and my family out there. But, as the disabled mom of a inquisitive four year old and wife to a stressed out nuclear engineer, I feel that our situation provides unique perspectives. And whose lives don't?  I want others in a similar position to be able to look at our challenges and breath a sigh of relief.

Today, I am a stay-at-home mom to my daughter, Maia. I was born with Cerebral Palsy and was recently diagnosed with Lupus. At times, I become crestfallen by my trials and tribulations, but- I like to think, that I mostly just laugh it off.  I am a firm believer in laughing at one's self.And I often give myself cause to.

Maia is a mini-me: stubborn and inquisitive. Like most moms, I marvel everyday at her achievements and I appreciate the blind eye she has turned to any faults I may have. Truly, this little girl has become my crutch.

Welcome to the blogosphere

To look at me, one would not expect the foulness I can spew. And spew I do. I am guilty of letting the F word slip during a conversation with the Pastor at my daughter's preschool (You mean the school day, is 3 not 2 hours long? Fuck Yeah!!!  Oops.) I see nothing wrong with the way I speak, nor am I often apologetic. So you can imagine my surprise when I spotted this book, Go the F* to Sleep. Damn! Why didn't I think of this?  I am almost positive that I murmured those same verses with Maia, while she fought sleep. The book is soaring up Amazon's pre-sale list. I could have had it made. Fuck.....