Sunday, November 30, 2008

A Temperamental Child

My son is very temperamental. It never ends with him. I often wonder how much of it is the attention deficit disorder, how much of it is learned from his dad, and how much of it is just his nature. I suppose I will never have an answer to that question, and I will probably spend the rest of my life trying to play with the cards that I have been dealt.

But sometimes it is just really difficult.

Last night I went to a friend's place for dinner. As usual, my son acted up, all angry and throwing a tantrum. He just wouldn't let up. It lasted over an hour. I eventually calmed him down but it took a seriously long time and I was humiliated, and frustrated, and left feeling that life will forever be hopeless. It's not like he is going to get better in high school. That's arguably when a child just gets worse. And then I kept asking myself, what do I have to look forward to in life? Nothing really. It was a miserable way to feel, and it kept me up most of the night.

I honestly feel like giving up. I felt like I can never move on, never be in a relationship because no guy will tolerate my son and his outbursts. I feel like I should just plan to live alone, plan short term relationships to pass the time, but never commit to anything long term. Then I will spare myself the day when someone will tell me that they can't be with me, because it is just too difficult to be around a difficult child.

It's not like anyone has ever said this to me, but I can see the judgement in people's eyes when my son acts up. I feel like saying "I am not a bad mother". Then again, he is not a bad child, but he can act pretty damned bad when he's in an off mood.

Sigh. I'll stop the rant, I know it's not going anywhere. Maybe it's the combination of 4 hrs sleep and an insurmountable pile of tasks waiting to be finished that is getting to me today and exacerbating the issue.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Two Years is a Long Time


And yet not long at all. I really miss him. This year, I've been missing him more than ever. Especially the past few months. And I don't know why it's come up like this. I find myself asking the questions again- why did he do it, how could he do it, why didn't he listen to me, why did he leave us when so many people loved him. And I still get shivers every time I drive under the Leaside bridge. I wonder which part of the bridge he jumped from, and what he was thinking his last few minutes in this world. And then I wonder why he did it without even saying goodbye.

We were such great friends, and he never even said goodbye.

My last face to face conversation with him was an argument. A back and forth. "You need help", "No I don't"....I knew he needed help. And I bet that he already knew what he was going to do. I love him and hate him all at once. And I hate myself for not doing more to help him.

I find sometimes I wish I could talk to him. I wish I could tell him how my life is going. I wish I could tell him how much he brought to my life, how he was one of the best friends I ever had. I wish I could tell him how much I miss him. I wish I could see his reasurring smile, just one more time. Or that look that says "Ok Shaz. Calm down". Or just to hear him tell me that I am a great person and that one day I will meet the right guy and have all the happiness I deserve. (He would say that alot).

I firmly believe we all meet again in heaven. And I find I'm still angry with Syd. When I meet him in heaven, first I'm going to slap him for what he did and then I will hug him because I've missed him so much.

But first I slap him for being so selfish and dark. It was so unlike him to commit suicide. And it was also the boldest move of his life. A fitting way to end I suppose, for a guy who stayed quiet, who remained patient, who tried to please everyone. It's like snubbing the world for all that it gave you just before you leave. But some of us didn't deserve the snubbing.

I still haven't gone to the cemetery. It's been two years, and I haven't had the courage to go. I miss him so much I know it would be emotional and I still feel so angry that I don't want to go. And so I haven't gone. Maybe next year.

Then again, maybe not.

Two years and it's still all there. Sure it doesn't consume me, but it really hasn't left me either. I find that I think of him alot. I was watching a movie the other day and the guy was about to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge. I felt so emotional, I couldn't watch it. I think it will stay with me for life. When friends don't return phone calls I think the worst. After all, the last friend who refused to take my calls while he was upset ended up comitting suicide. Naturally when someone is upset and they don't pick up the phone, my mind goes to a very scary place.

I wonder if he even knew what he would be doing to the lives of others...

I miss you Sydney. I hope you're in a peaceful place.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Friday afternoon working from home

In my jeans. Sipping chai. Loving it.

I had my ultrasound again. I don't want to talk much about it, but I have a cyst on my ovaries that has apparently been getting bigger. It's been causing a lot of pain lately, to the point where my evenings are a write off. I come home and I feel dead to the world. It's been this way for a couple of months. No energy to cook, and I can't move off the couch. I do homework with the kids at the coffee table so I can lie on the couch and check their homework without getting up.

Today was another ultrasound. I get the results next week. It's benign so nothing to worry about from that angle, but the pain is bad. I've even left a few meetings at work on a couple of occasions because I just couldn't sit there that long.

But today, although the pain is just brutal from the ultrasound, I am enjoying these 2 hours of solitude working, sipping chai, and just being alone.

I'm told that little moments of gratitude are baby steps to happiness. Here's to finding happiness again one day.

Never Judge Another Person

Because we as humans are much more alike than we are different.

Interesting Quote from an Oprah show I was watching last night. Unfortunately, I'm guilty as charged. One of the things I've started to see lately is that the mirror gets held up to me often enough. Just when I think "I would NEVER be capable of that" or I look at someone and think 'how could you do that to your child, or how could you say that to someone, or how could you conduct yourself in that manner?', I find myself in a similar situation, doing something not that far off.

We are all humans. We will all make mistakes.

Back in my hijab days, I remember the extremely judgmental attitude I had when I saw people doing things wrong. I would think to myself "why does that guy bother praying when he cheats on his wife? Why does she wear hijab if she has a boyfriend? Why does he fast in Ramadan if he is a drinker the rest of the year?"

And then I realized it. Nobody is perfect. Nobody can be perfect. We all have different weaknesses, different faults, and we all struggle. Some of us try to be good people despite of our faults, and some of us just don't bother trying at all. But at the end of the day, you cannot slight a person for their faults, nor should you judge them for trying to maintain some amount of goodness where ever possible.

The guy who cheats on his wife is better off praying than not. The guy who fasts in Ramadan is better off doing it than not. These things are all better in small ways than not doing them I guess. Or maybe for those people it keeps them on track and prevents them for doing more harm. Who knows? But we can't judge.

There was a man on Oprah who had killed someone, and everyone judged him. And she said "we are more alike than we are different". It's true. The only thing that stops some of us from not going totally evil is the conscience.

But everyone's conscience has a breaking point too. That's just human nature.

My recent life experiences have taught me a few things. Just when I think I cannot be capable of something, a mirror is held up and I am forced to see who I really am. And while I know I am a good person in many ways, I am very far from perfect. So I have no right to judge another. And nobody has the right to judge me either.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I Want a Giraffe

To hell with princes. I want a giraffe.

I saw Madagascar 2 the other day. It wasn't as great as part 1, but it was still a good movie. But there was one major thing that stuck with me. I want to find a giraffe.

Melman the giraffe is this adorable yet nerdy, sweet yet goofy giraffe who falls in love with the hippo. He is soft natured, loving, crazy, but at the end of the day, will do anything for the one that he loves.

I want a giraffe. I just don't know if they really exist. All the men I have met always have some agenda or another. They are never truly altruistic like Melman. Maybe asking for one is just too much to ask. Maybe that's why you only find them in movies.

But I can say this....I am determined to be with a person who comes pretty damned close to being a giraffe. I know I am not a saint, but I am somehow starting to see my worth. I'm realizing that I do alot for the ones that I love, and that it may not be too much to ask for someone to reciprocate.

So I wait for a giraffe. In the meantime, a dear friend bought me a mini beanie baby version of Melman. I loved it. I kept it by my side. As I lie here on my bed blogging, Melman is sitting right here with me on my bed, keeping me company with his warmth and his smile.

This will do just fine until the real one comes along.

I hope the universe doesn't disappoint me by telling me that Melman doesn't exist.

I wait anxiously...

Thursday, November 13, 2008

ADHD Medication

It's been a busy week. I'm fed up, tired, and hating life at the moment.

I took my son to the specialist for his ADHD on Tuesday. His dad came too. Nevermind the fact that I received a million emails beforehand about how he didn't like my choice of doctors, and that I was afraid he would go and cancel the appointment on me last minute, but we made it there. And the doctor prescribed medication. I knew it was coming, but still, it's so controversial, I really didn't want him on meds. I feel like I failed as a mother.

I was tempted to call an office colleague who lives nearby. Her son was also diagnosed with the same thing, and so she understands all of this. But I didn't. I didn't want to bother her, I didn't want to impose. Yet I knew that had I called it would not have been an imposition. I guess I'm a bit weird that way.

I get home and get a call from my brother. His judgement was overwhelming. "How could you drug up your own child? Why do that to a poor kid? Why not just spend more time with him at night so he will be OK?"

Seriously? Like I need to hear that shit. Like I don't feel like a failure already. Family can be so very cruel.

So I get the prescription filled and start my son on the meds. I monitor him like crazy. His appetite has decreased in the day (But he makes up for it in the morning and night). He has a harder time falling asleep. My boss (whose child also has the same condition) advised me not to let my son know that insomnia is a side effect or he will use it as an excuse. Good advice, actually.

I worked closely with my son's teacher to monitor his work. He was kind enough to email me. At least my son is showing a noticeable change in focus. The teacher said to me that this was the most focus he has ever seen from my son, and the most legible handwriting yet. That is promising.

And then the kicker. My son asks "So how many days will I need the medication for? When will I be all better?" How do you answer that? I said "I'm not sure yet." He says "Well I won't need it forever right? When will I stop being sick?" I explain that he isn't sick, but that his brain doesn't have the same chemical that other people's does and so we are helping it along. His reply "Mommy, I promise to be good if we stop making me take them".


Baby, it isn't your fault
, I thought to myself. But how do I explain all this to him?

I feel useless. I feel hopeless. I feel like a failure. For the past two nights I have come home, looked at my son and gone to my room to cry. I never wanted to do this. I just want him to be OK.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

The Worry Dolls

I gave my daughter a set of worry dolls today. I thought they were a neat idea. A very dear friend recently noted that my daughter "thinks a lot" and that she seems to have a lot on her mind. On a previous occasion, I took her to the doctor to find out why she can't fall asleep at night. He told me that she is a young child and that going through a parental divorce is a very stressful thing for a child and so she seems to worry a lot. Anyhow, I thought the worry dolls were cute so I gave them to her this evening.

She loved them. I explained to her that the little dolls are her friends. She picks one doll at night, tells it about her worries, gives it a kiss and puts it under her pillow. She can go to sleep and the doll will take the worries far away while she is sleeping. My daughter was overjoyed. She thanked me profusely, hugged me, kissed me and thanked me for loving her. I am shocked. They are just worry dolls after all!

A few minutes later, I saw her sitting in the corner, whispering to the dolls and kissing them. I asked her what she was doing. She said she was introducing herself to her new friends because they were going to help her sleep at night. She was really excited and wanted to go to sleep early!

I'm not sure what to make of this. I mean, the dolls were given to me by someone at work as a promotional item. I just had them lying around and thought she would like them. I am dying to know what "worries" she will be sharing with the dolls and what it is exactly that keeps her up at night. But if these little wooden stick dolls fix something I have been trying to fix for months, well.... then I will just count my blessings.

And I will be thankful for one less worry. Bless these dolls.