Confessions of a Hot Mess Mom

I’m B. I’m a 31 year old married mother of three. I’m sitting in our 3rd appointment of the day, last of the week, 5 PM on a Thursday, my son E has occupational therapy for an hour.

Confession #1: We are officially on an attendance plan, meaning I’m not allowed to get lazy, or even too busy, and skip out on any more of these sessions or else E will not be able to continue getting the OT therapy he does actually and desperately need, because I will have gotten us dismissed. But by Thursday at 5 PM, I am tired … I’m tired of therapies, I’m tired of being a taxi, I’m anticipating the scolding I will receive from R, my husband, because I didn’t do enough around the house, but the deal was if I am staying at home, which …

Confession #2: I am staying home. Again. And the deal is to clean up the house and keep it relatively clean, along with the other motherly duties like taking the kids to their appointments, etc. But… I am a HOT MESS, so is my house clean enough today? Today it’s so-so, I could likely get away with closing some doors, but other days I wouldn’t even invite the blindest person on earth. I get so worked up and overwhelmed, I’m afraid that R will be mad at me but …

Confession #3: I’m a perfectionist, and I get crippling anxiety and procrastinate anything that I cannot do perfectly… so basically, everything. Imagine all the things I get done, which is literally nothing. I am working on it, though. In fact, this post will be progress because I will let it go live as soon as I am done, regardless of the lack of punctuation, run on sentences, structural errors, and even the fact that it likely won’t even be coherent. PROGRESS, my friends!

Confession #4: Back to E. E is my 7 year old middle son, and he was diagnosed with autism 4 years ago at the age of 3. E’s autism has been an extremely motivating and driving factor in my life for the last 5 years, as I started to suspect it before it was officially diagnosed. I will admit, at first I wanted to find the cause because I wanted to cure him of his “disease.” I didn’t understand anything at all other than feeling like the autism was making our family life hard. But yet, it also felt like I was the only person in my family who even acknowledged that this was happening and fought to identify what it was and for him to receive treatment in school and outside of it. Things between R & me got so bad that…

Confession #5: My marriage started to fail. I didn’t believe I was receiving the support I needed in dealing with this reality, and R didn’t believe that autism even was our reality. I did everything I could, from taking time off work to volunteer in E’s new contained classroom, to figuring out IEP meetings on my own, eventually getting written up at my former job for spending too much time between dealing with E and sinking into a terrifying depression. Eventually, I left the job and attempted to seek mental health treatment for myself but

Confession #6: I sunk so deep, I basically became unrecognizable for a little over a year. I stopped parenting my boys, I absolutely did not try to fix any understandings in my marriage. I will definitely dive deeper into my mental health in future posts, but just know, take care of that shit. It is okay to take care of yourself, for without yourself, how will you take care of anything else?

Confession #7: R and I have 2 more boys, T is 8, and A is 4. We are a nuclear Black American family. Him and I have been married for 9 years, together for 10. I suppose we are standardly and boringly typical, something I hate… well, something part of me hates because…

Confession #8: I feel like I’m two different people and both of those people want 2 completely different things. One is completely happy and content with things exactly as they are, the other wants to just fuck this shit up. Hi, I’m crazy. 🙂

Confession #9: I love books, and I love to read. I love good movies, good TV shows, I love any good escape into another reality. I find myself day dreaming even when I’m not doing any of the above, just spacing out in my own head.

Confession #10: This isn’t how I envisioned my life, but my life is good. I’ve started to purposely seek out the good, the beauty, I love to take pictures, and make reminders that things can be dark, but they won’t always be.

Welcome to my hot mess of a life. Stay tuned for future posts that will detail what it’s like raising black boys, raising a black boy with autism, young Black married life with kids, dealing with systemic racism in the educational system, especially when it comes to special needs, and other randomly relevant adventures of R&B and our three TEA.

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