Nerd-gasm

There are times when I close my eyes, take a deep breathe, say a prayer, open my eyes and smile.

I read an article once that said that if you smile while unhappy, you can trick your brain into thinking that you are happy.  Why the hell not? It's worth a shot.

My work gives me a true sense of joy.  I love it.  It's therapeutic and  logical.  I can watch my numbers sing and I  lose myself for hours in market trends.  I call this my nerd-gasm.  It doesn't matter how my day started or ended; I can walk through a bookstore and watch people pick up a book, disregard it and buy another.  I try to see a pattern in their choices.  My numbers usually support my observations.  I feel so satisfied with giving the consumer a great reading experience.  I'm proud of what I do.

I'm good at what I do.

I throw myself whole-heartedly into my work during the day.  I can never explain it to co-workers.  I doubt that they would understand the importance of work for a special needs parent.  A job for some people is just a means to an end but for me, it can be my salvation.

There are days that are so difficult.

"Bugabuga! Bugabuga!  I need you to come here now!  You have to go to school!"

"Ahhh!  I don't want to go to school!  I'm tired!"

I walk her over to our spot so that I can start dressing her.  She doesn't have the balance to put her clothes on herself.  When she's tired, she can barely stand and I hold on to her body weight in one hand while trying to put on her diaper with the other hand.  She's not trained yet.  I try not to think about it anymore.  I have to hope that she will get it soon.  I have to hope...

We struggle through the morning ritual.  I'm slowly combing her hair.  She's crying by this time.  I feel a huge lump in my throat.  I'll never understand why things are so hard for her; I'll never stop wishing that it was easier.

"Mommy! You're hurting me!"

She swings around and punches and pinches my arm.  I feel the skin bruise and I feel so, so sad.  I close my eyes.  I must remain calm. I open my eyes and try to reach her.  I try to explain the pain, I'm not sure that she feels pain like I do.  She doesn't care either way.  She's stimming now.

I grab her hands to stop her.  I used to think it was so cute when she put her hands to her face.  Her skin feels funny, I look down and see that she is getting a callus on one of her knuckles from biting her hand.  I want to cry.  Her beautiful little hands are getting affected.  She struggles with me.  I win.  She's ready for school.

She tells me that she doesn't want to be my family anymore.  I tell her that I love her anyway.  She tears at my heart.

We walk to school and I hug her as she pulls away.

"I love you, Mommy!  Have a wonderful day!"

I watch until she is through the doors and out of sight.  I roll my shoulders to release the tension.  I check my work email and immerse myself for a few minutes-just enough time to regain my composure.

I travel to work shaking off the rough start.  I walk into the building and smile.

It's time to lose myself.