Cleaning

I'm probably ovulating, because I want to wake John up and have unprotected sex so I can get pregnant. In his half-asleep mode, I could probably pull it off too. There are so many reasons why now is not the right time for this and only my biological urge to reproduce as a reason to do it. One of the main reasons not to do it right now is because it's almost 3 in the morning and I've been in avoidance mode for the past three hours.

John got so much stuff done tonight - he's finally "sterilized" our computer room. There’s a big bag of trash next to the desk, the floor is clear, the desk is clear and all of my papers have been put in a pile on the bookcase - ensuring that I'll have to rip the room apart at least three times trying to find the scrap of paper where I wrote vital log-on information that I of course can't remember. John's gotten really good about not throwing out seemingly innocuous pieces of paper and envelopes because I have the horrible habit of using anything as scratch paper.

Whenever John gets in one of these cleaning moods - I get very weird. I've always been strange when it comes to cleaning. When the mood is upon me, I can get a lot of stuff done and even enjoy it. The problem is that I get easily overwhelmed and it's very hard for me to get to that place. Mostly I just watch the mess/filth build up and spend so much energy and angst avoiding it that it becomes this HUGE thing that I can never possibly do. If I have any depression happening in the background, this effect is vastly magnified to the point that I am almost completely immobilized. John is one of those people who deals with stress by controlling everything in his life that he possibly can - about as opposite me as you can get. For a while, he refused to even clean if I was home because I would sit and beat myself up for letting it get to that point and not doing it myself. He would feel better for having a clean room but not have any idea how to deal with me. He'll compensate by asking for my approval during the cleaning process, which I usually use as fodder to make myself feel worse.

The cleaning was the catalyst for my avoidance mode. The underlying reason is Michael's ASD diagnosis. I've been spending a lot of time in the "denial" stage of grief recently. Michael has made such great strides in the past few months - he's really a different kid than he was in the fall and in many ways my life is so much easier. The ASD diagnosis changes all of this. I can no longer just let him do his own thing all day while I avoid doing housework.

I've gotten up to an hour of floor time with him on most days, but even there I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to be doing with him. We've been given the name of a therapist who specializes in it, but I still haven't made an appointment to see him yet. Now that we've gotten our tax return, I can't use the money excuse any more. Currently, I'm waiting to hear back from EI about his 6 hour eval with their developmental team. I keep hoping that they'll tell me that he's fine and we have nothing to worry about so there will be no reason to trek up to Melrose Park to see this guy and pay money out of pocket to learn how to do this intensive therapy; there will be no reason to seek out a DAN! (Defeat Autism Now) doctor and start the whole rigmarole of special diets, heavy metal testing, chelation and supplements. My little boy will be fine with his couple of therapies a week and the bit of work I do with him. I won't have to change my life.

Having a child changed my life so completely that I can't even remember clearly what life was like before he came. I made a lot of changes in the fall and they've all been changes for the better - things are so smooth. We may not have the best of routines, but it's been working. Now I have to change that and I feel like an unnatural mother for being resistant to it. How can I not want what's best for my child? How can I not do everything in my power to make sure he gets what he needs? Everything I've read about ASD says how much time is of the essence, how great it is that I have the diagnosis this early because this is the best time to do these therapies. What if my inability to roll with this punch ends up hurting him?

Then there's the stuff from outside. My mother told me the other day that she wants to start coming over every other Thursday night to take me grocery shopping so I don't have to make so many trips during the week and I'm pretty sure she means it this time. My sister called us last night at 11:30 because I had called her earlier in the day and was worried. My best friend calls me to find out what my schedule is so she can tell me what night she's coming over so John and I can get out for some couple-time. I've had more time alone with John in the past three weeks than I've had in the past three months. As happy as I am for the help and dates with John, I'm a bit resentful that it's taken my son being diagnosed with ASD to get these things to happen.

Like cleaning, this is just so big right now and I still can't get my head wrapped around it. I just hope I can do what best for him.