Coping With Working Mom Guilt When Your Kid Has Autism

When The Boy was first diagnosed with autism there was no discussion on whether or not I would continue working. I knew that I didn't have any other choice. We just couldn't afford for me to be a stay-at-home mom.

And aside from needing to work, I wanted to work.

Whether you're a mom who works or stays home - guilt is inevitable. And when your kid has special needs, it adds a whole other layer of guilt. (Yeah, it's super fun!)

Lately my guilt has been in overdrive. This last year, in addition to working full-time (I'm an administrative assistant to three attorneys.), I've been doing a lot of freelance work. (My day job schedule varies but I work a 35 hour week. And it's an hour commute each way.)

side note: My day job isn't my dream job but it pays the mortgage on our little condo apartment and provides kick-ass health insurance. I need my day job.

When I come home from work, there's dinner, laundry and cleaning, before bath time and bed time stories. 

Somewhere between all of that (and well after), I write for Babble and Parents.com. And every so often, I agree to write for other venues. It seems as if I'm writing more and more. Which yeah, it's great. I LOVE writing. I'm grateful. It's extra money. The extra money helps with therapy costs. It allows for the little extras in life - a new DVD, a meal at a favorite restaurant or a new toy for no reason. It also provides opportunity.  

Last month I attended a blog conference in Atlanta. And last week I flew to Disneyland. Both trips required me to travel alone. Without my family.

I'm not the kind of blogger that travels often (usually once a year). But when I do leave, it's tough on The Boy. He cries every night I'm gone. Though we try to explain to him, he doesn't understand why I'm not home. It throws him completely off schedule. And The Husband is left on his own to deal with meltdowns, bath time and the morning routine. I know he's a parent too but I feel like it's my job to take care of them both. And when I'm not there, I'm failing as a parent and as a wife.

And even when I am home, I'm still not always "there." I spend most of my weekends, sitting on the sofa typing away and most evenings, I'm working. The Boy often comes over and says, "Momma close the computer and come to my room." Sometimes, I close the computer and sometimes I just can't. And when I can't, it hurts because I waited so long to hear those words. It hurts because there are times when he wants to be alone in his room and asks me to leave. 

Lately I've been wondering if the little extras are worth the time away from my family. I've been juggling so much, for so long and I'm exhausted. I thought that once I graduated, things would be easier. Nope - I've gotten busier. And while I'm grateful for the work and recognition, what I really want to do is slow down.

Will slowing down eliminate all my guilty? Probably not. But I'm hoping that doing less for everyone else will allow me the time to do more with my family. 


Catch up with my Babble posts: 

• The Fears and Frustrations of Autism Parents
• 20 Female Role Models for My Son
• Why I Take My Kid into the Voting Booth on Election Day
• Is It Time To Put My Autistic Son on Medication?
• We Need More Family Restrooms
• Should Children with Autism Wear GPS Tracking Devices?

This Month on Babble

September was a busy month. There was back-to-school and well, back-to-school - because that's enough to keep any parent busy. So busy that maybe you haven't had a chance to read  what's been going on at Babble. 

Catch up with September's Babble posts:

• The Pros and Cons of Being Working Parents
• 7 Tips to Ease Transitions for Kids with Autism
• A Summer of Firsts Captured on Instagram
• Oh! The Things I Would Do If I Had My Kid’s Energy
• 6 Video Games My Son with Autism Loves To Play
• The Only That Matters When Your Kid Has Autism
• Play-Doh: Fun and Therapeutic for Kids with Autism

The First Day of School and Goals for a New School Year

"Do I have school today?" The Boy asked as soon as his eyes opened. It's the same question he's asked every single day for the last 4 weeks. 

"Oh yes you do!" I may have said this with much more enthusiasm than necessary.  

The Boy didn't cry or protest. I prompted him through his morning routine. When I asked him to put on his socks and shoes he did so independently. Okay, he put on one sock and one shoe. But he did it on his own.

And when the bus came, he stepped right on without looking back and took the first free seat. 

It's the 5th of his short life being put on a bus to school. His 2nd year at this school. If The Boy were a 'typical' kid he'd be heading to 2nd grade. Instead, he'll go back to the same classroom with 5 of his peers, a teacher and 2 assistants. It's comforting to know he'll be with the same teacher and most of the same students (their ages ranging from 6-8 years old). 

And because of The Boy's 'severe cognitive disability', he cannot participate in the standardized assessment. Which means, no additional pressure. (I hated standardized tests and assessments as a kid.) Some of The Boy's goals for the year include:

• verbal social interactions with peers
• following a variety of 2 step commands containing basic and linguistic concepts
• comprehension and responding to WH questions 
• reading a passage and answering multiple choice and short answer questions
• listening to the teacher read a story and answering 5 WH questions
• attending to a task without distraction for 5 minutes 
• decrease self-stimulatory behaviors
• display appropriate coping skills to deal with changes or disappointment 
• writing sentences using proper sentence structure and grammer
• solving 2 digit addition and subtraction problems with regrouping and;
• engaging in cooperative play skills.

It may not have been the place I imagined he'd be, but it's the right place for him. And I'm grateful that after two long years of searching, such a school exists. They understand him. They care about him. They know how to teach him. The Boy's learning and he's happy. That's the most important thing.

What goals are your kids working on this year? 

First days pics from years past

Graduation

This post is sponsored by Disney Story. To find out more about this brand-new story-creation app – and how it puts the power of storytelling in your hands - click here. 

   

Last Thursday I graduated...finally!

As I sat and listened to the opening remarks of my college graduation, I had to fight back tears as the Dean talked about overcoming all the obstacles and hardships in order to get to this moment.

These last five years of graduate school have not been easy. I have been discouraged and encouraged to quit. And I have wanted to quit more times than I can count. I have wondered whether or not it's been worth it. I am now wondering what will be next. I have no idea.

Over the last five years, I've been amazed by my son's progress after he was diagnosed with autism. My husband retired after twenty years at FedEx and started a new job. I lost a baby. I have started this blog. I have sued the Department of Education. I became a writer. It has been a roller coaster ride of the lowest lows and the highest highs. 

As I sat front row at my graduation ceremony and saw the camaraderie of the other - much younger - students as they marched on stage and others cheered as their names were called, I felt envious. I was surrounded by mostly undergraduate students, students in their early twenties, students with no children, no real responsibilities other than just being a student. Young men and women who had their whole lives ahead of them. Young college graduates who were free to pursue their careers - to find themselves.

Twenty years ago I graduated from high school clueless about who I was or what I wanted. With every failure, obstacle and hardship I learned a little more about myself. I discovered what I wanted to do. 

There is no need to envy the younger graduates. They are moving on, in search of themselves, to discover their purpose - to find or forge their own path. 

I have spent the last twenty years forging my path - walking, running, kicking, crawling and clawing my way through. I am moving on, with my degree in hand and there is no need to search. I am already on the path I'm supposed to be on. I just need to keep moving forward. 

A new journey awaits.        

This post is sponsored by Disney Story. To find out more about this brand-new story-creation app – and how it puts the power of storytelling in your hands - click here. 

The Day I Ran Away From Home

I have been under a lot of stress lately. Feeling like I am being pulled in a million directions. Struggling to catch up and feeling like I'm always falling short.

Last week I submitted my thesis - five years worth of my best writing and it was like this weight was lifted off of my shoulders.

But there was still mounds of laundry to get done. Stacks of unopened mail. Paperwork to fill out. And everywhere I looked there was something that needed to get done. So much stuff that I let pile up for so long.

Then the pressure of writing and deadlines. Writing for Babble & Parents are second and third jobs for me. So between working outside the home, writing at night, writing my thesis, taking care of The Boy it was only a matter of time before I snapped.

Well I snapped last Saturday. Big time. (The Husband and I may have gotten into a little tiff.) And I just needed to get out. Because sometimes you just need to get away from your husband and your kid and your home. Sometimes you just need to say: F--k doing laundry and dishes and groceries and responsibility. 

As I was getting dressed The Boy asked, "Where are you going Mommy?" (I know!! Such an appropriate WH-question!!) 

"Out." I said.

"You're going to the supermarket." The Boy said. It sounded more like demand. 

"No. I am not going to the supermarket. I am just going out."

I kissed him goodbye and walked out the door.

I took the train downtown and had an amazing day with my best girlfriends. We had sangria and burgers and wine and nutella panini's. (What can I say, we have pretty sophisticated taste.) I took a picture with Captain Cragen (swoon). And I treated myself to a mani/pedi.

I needed that day. All moms deserve a day to run away from home. 

When I returned hours later, The Husband told me that when I walked out the door The Boy said, "Mommy's going to Texas."

Apparently, the only places The Boy thinks I go is to the supermarket and Texas.  I don't always have to run to the supermarket for solace and I don't have to go as far as Texas (nor do I want to) but sometimes a happy compromise and a day away from it all is good for the mom soul.               

So Now What?

I am home from my very last night of class. Last week I turned in my thesis.


I. Am. Done. Finally. After five years of graduate school. It's over.


All that's left is my graduation.


People keep asking me how it feels, if I'm excited. And I smile or shrug my shoulders. But I honestly? It feels anti-climatic.


"I don't think it really means anything," I told my therapist. (Yes - I've been seeing a therapist, that's for another PYHO post)


"Are you depressed?" she asked.


I could only nod because admitting to my depression is something I not ready to say out loud. 


I don't know what it means. I'm trying to be excited about it but the finality of it scares me.


The Now What has been looming for the last few months. And now it's here. 


I have spent the last five years in graduate school. Fifteen years struggling to obtain my B.A. It's been twenty years of studying, writing, registering and reading. Nearly twenty years trying to juggle work and school and in these last eight raising family. I've moved and gotten married, had a baby, had that baby diagnosed with autism, got pregnant again and suffered an overwhelming loss. I have started this blog and become a writer.


And still. I don't know what it means. I wonder what was the point? And has it been worth it. I've said all along that this degree was for me but I think deep down I wanted it to be more. And right now, it feels like it means nothing.


I will never have to register for another class or fight with the bursar or wait for a grade. I will never have to write another paper or leave work early to make it to class on time. I will never need to sacrifice a weekend to read I don't want to read. And I will never have to write a short story or essay ever again. I should be feeling a sense of freedom.


Instead I feel this overwhelming sense of emptiness. Because now what? Now what do I do with this time? What do I do with this degree, this piece of paper that has no value in my world? Being a student has been a part of my identity that without it - I feel lost.
I started this blog as a class assignment. I was going through a difficult time, mourning a loss and  frustrated with the Turning 5 process. I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't over think things - I just wrote. 


I've loved and appreciated every opportunity that has come with this blog but these last few months, I have been struggling with it. Struggling to keep up. My confidence in my writing has been shaken and I'm constantly questioning every post I publish. Is it good enough? Will people 'like' it, share it or leave a comment? Stressing over my Google page rank, SEO, analytics and Alexa score and social media reach. 


I'm questioning whether I can or should continue. I'm wondering what's the point, if my writing means anything? And is it worth the pressure?


So now what? I don't know. 


I'm giving myself till September to figure it out. 
 

10 Things I'm Going To Do Now That I'm Done with Graduate School

Today I handed in my thesis. And that means I am unofficially done. I graduate on May 30th. (YAY!!!!)

Me (posing as proof of) handing in my thesis: smiling, sleep deprived, hair a hot mess.

Dust. I hope no one comes over and looks up my ceiling fans because it's pretty bad. 

Work on my apt to-do list. There are so many unfinished projects around the apartment. So many things I want to do. Closets that need to be cleaned out and cabinets that need organizing. It's going to keep me busy. 

Set up my home office. I'm tired of writing sitting on the sofa. I don't have much space but I need a little desk and a chair. The Unknown Mami gave me a great idea! 

Get back to writing fiction. I'm good at it. I want to get better. 

Continue editing/polishing 2 short stories and start submitting for publication. I wrote three short stories I'm proud of. I want them published somewhere. I need to get my hustle on. 

Sleep. I need it. 

Enjoy my family & friends. I've missed them, especially these last few months. 

Get a manicure and pedicure. It's needed in the worst way.

Go back to the gym. It's also needed in the worst way.

Start my non-profit and work on building My Dream School. The Bronx needs it.

Breaking Out and Leaning In (my 500th blog post)

I haven't read Sheryl Sandberg's book, Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead, yet but over the last few weeks - I've read several articles in response to Lean In. I've read so many inspiring Lean In stories.  And it's made me reflect on my own life and this journey I've been on.

Nearly twenty years ago, I graduated high school, uncertain of what I wanted to do. So many of my friends seemed to have this plan. I didn't have a clue. 

I registered for classes at the local community college but after a year, I decided it wasn't for me. And I quit to work full-time in a department store. 

I floated from job to job over the next few years - often working two to three jobs at a time.

I returned to school because I was bored and needed something to fill the time. I struggled through most of my classes - especially math and science. I took classes in history, philosophy, business and psychology.  The only classes that interested me were courses in literature, creative writing or journalism.

After seven years working in retail and restaurants, I decided it was time to 'grow up' and get a regular 9-5 job in an office. I had no office experience. I had practically no computer skills. I hadn't taken a typing test since junior year with Mrs. Becker (and even then, I did horribly). And when I went to interview with recruiters - they were brutally honest. "You have no experience. No one will hire you." They all urged me to interview for retail positions.  

I was only twenty-five years old and I felt as if I were being shoved into this box of who I was to be. Even though, I was unemployed - I refused all retail interviews. I had never had any problems getting a job I wanted. I knew someone would eventually hire me.

I interviewed with a small private equity firm - I was in their office for almost four hours. I was certain, the job was mine. And I was shocked when they went with someone else. But I was lucky, that person didn't work out because a few weeks later - I was offered the receptionist position. 
    
I was going to school part-time at night and while my new job provided tuition reimbursement, they weren't very supportive of their receptionist going to school at night. Knowing I had another priority in my life was a threat. It meant I wanted something more than the cubicle I was sitting in. When I left a few years later, they were surprised it wasn't for another receptionist position.

My next corporate job was in the legal department of an investment firm. It was a true boys club - all the attorneys were white men, the one female attorney was ostracized and ridiculed. A secretary going to a city college was no threat - not to the attorneys anyway. The other secretaries - assumed my time with them was limited and so they didn't take me seriously either.

When I left that job, I was more hopeful than I had been in years. I took a job at a company where I thought I had real growth potential. I had just transferred to my fourth college and finally figured out what I wanted to do. 

I got married. Had a baby. And two weeks before I (finally) graduated with a BA in English, my son was diagnosed with autism.

Trying to find balance as a working mom going to school is hard enough - adding special needs to the mix adds a whole other layer of guilt.

It's been five years since my son was diagnosed with autism. And I've spent that time, being his advocate and his teacher. I've also been pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing. I have been in the same company for almost a decade and I've been an admin for more. 

This spring I will graduate and while I wish I could say - that I my degree will advance me in some way but I know that it will not. I will not be given a promotion and not even a pay raise. 

I have been told time and time again that I am 'over-qualified' for my current admin position but under qualified to do anything else. The only way I can "lean in" is if I quit and start over completely, which is really scary considering that I need to work, I need my salary and my benefits. Having a young special needs child - leaning in seems like a luxury I cannot afford. Not right now, at least.

Not every woman in the workplace can Lean In - that's just a reality we have to face. But that doesn't mean we cannot lead.

Two years ago, I started this blog as a class assignment. And it's really changed the way I've thought about myself, my job and my writing. I've learned to own it. I've learned to make peace with myself. I've learned that I cannot allow myself to be defined by my job. I've learned to pursue my dream in my own time - even if it means, taking one class at a time.  

I've learned that sometimes you have to break out in order to lean in. And just because I can't Lean In at work, that doesn't mean I can't Lean In another direction. 

Why Can't Every Weekend Be a Three Day Weekend?

Wouldn't it be amazing if every weekend was a three day weekend? 

If corporate work weeks for low level employees like me could have a four day work week? At the same pay rate. (Obviously...)

It's Tuesday and I went to work. Yesterday was President's Day and I had the day off. A wonderful three day weekend.

As a full-time working (outside the home) mom, I feel like I'm constantly playing catch up. Now that school has started, my time is even more limited. 

But when I have a three day weekend - I feel like I get soooo much done. 

Like all the laundry. I even folded it. And I set up The Boy's outfits for the week.  

I went to the supermarket and Target. I even cooked a meal or two. 

I cleaned and organized. 

I wrote a post that made me all teary and sentimental. I got to read an A M A Z I N G book and it made me cry the ugly cry.  

I took the time to just be a mom.

We even took The Boy for a pony ride. He liked it! He really liked it! 

I even wasted a few seconds on that WeeMee nonsense. I'm not gonna lie - I think mine came out super cute. Way better than I'm looking these days...she even got to go to Paris.

And then today the madness started all over again. The tooth brush battle (The Boy fights me every morning). The rushing to get out the door. Fighting my way through the D train crowd. Trying to get through emails and setting up meetings. Then rushing back home, hoping to get to the gym - only to sit on a delayed 6 train for half an hour. So that by the time I got home, I was so hungry and cranky I skipped the gym. So just I cooked dinner. And maybe I'll wash the dishes before I go to sleep. Or I'll leave them for the morning.

When it all starts over again... 

I Wouldn't Call You Selfish. But I Wouldn't Say You Understand Either.

During my final semester as an undergrad student, I was sitting in my Greek Mythology class when a girl asked me for some of the answers on the 30 question study sheet the professor handed out the week before. She had the nerve to say, she didn't have time to answer them all.

Side note: During this time I was working full-time, applying to graduate and having The Boy evaluated for Early Intervention.

It had been the third time during the semester this girl had asked me for the answers to something. Which was annoying for many reasons but mainly because she had spent the first day of class bragging about how Greek Mythology was "her thing."

Now usually, I'm the nice girl in the class. Ready to share my notes or lend a pen. But this time I needed to put my foot down. And this is how our conversation went:

Needless to say, she never asked me for another answer for the remainder of the semester. I mean really - she compared babysitting to being a mom. A babysitter gets paid. A babysitter gets to go home at the end of her shift. A mom's shift never ends.

And last week I was in class and sitting between two women and the conversation turned to motherhood. Once again I'm the only one in the class with a young child.

And one woman said, "It's annoying when my mom friends tell me I don't know what it's like to be a mom just because I don't have kids."

The other woman said, "I know right! I mean, I can imagine. And I hate when they tell me that I live a selfish life."

While I said I wouldn't dare call any woman who didn't have kids "selfish," I politely agreed that you can never know what motherhood is like until you're actually a mom. 

I don't think they appreciated that but it's true. Imagining life as a mom and being a mom are two completely different things.

Because you can't possibly imagine waking up in the middle of the night, night after night to calm a crying kid. You can't imagine the amount of preparation it takes to run out for a quick trip to the market. Or having someone puking, peeing or pooping on you and just shrugging it off as no big deal. Or how quickly your heart stops when you think something has happened to your kid. 

And you can't imagine how good a hug can feel. Or how a smile can make your heart melt. Or the pride you feel when you see your kid do something for the first time. 

But it's so much more than that. Motherhood changes a woman. At least it changed me. Before The Boy, I occasionally imagined what motherhood would be like too. I had all these ideas about the kind of mom I would be and how I would raise my kid.

Now I have a really good imagination. And I was wrong about almost everything.

It's Day 5 of the NYC School Bus Strike. Seriously?! When will it end?

We're on Day 5 of the strike.

I have used my 4th vacation day.

Yesterday I spent the entire day at The Boy's school. In a storage room. You can check out the You Tube video HERE.

Today I commuted to The Boy's school using public transportation.

How did it go? See for yourself...

Day 4 of the NYC School Bus Strike aka My First Edited Vlog. Ever.

Day 4 of the New York City School Bus Strike.

I took my 3rd vacation day and spent the day at The Boy's school. 

And...because there was no Wifi - I decided to make a vlog. And I edited it (sort of). 

And yes - it took the majority of my day.  
(I was allowed to stay at the school for the day, provided I did interfere with The Boy's day.)

Dear Mayor Bloomberg and Local 1181 (an open letter regarding the NYC School Bus Strike)

Dear Mayor Bloomberg and Local 1181,

Below is a picture of my son, Norrin. He will be seven years old tomorrow. He has autism and goes to a special education school in Westchester - 22 miles away from our apartment building in The Bronx. 

As my husband and I are both working parents - we rely on the Office of Pupil Transportation and the Local 1181 to get Norrin to and from school safely.

I am sure some wonder why we would choose to send our only child to a school so far way. It was not an easy decision to make. But not a single public school in The Bronx could meet Norrin's specific needs. It was a fight to get him placed into a specialized school but his school was well worth the fight.    

Yesterday, Friday, January 18, 2013, was the 3rd day of the NYC School Bus Strike. And my son Norrin is 1 of the 152,000 students stranded. On Wednesday and Thursday, I had no choice but to take vacation days from work to stay home with Norrin. But on the third day, I had to go into work. And with limited childcare options, I had no choice but to bring Norrin in with me. 

I am administrative assistant and my husband is a NYS Supreme Court Officer - we don't have the kind of jobs where we have the privilege of working from home on a whim. My husband, cannot even manage to take a single day off from work to pick Norrin up from school. So the responsibility rests on me. And while we have a car, I do not know how to drive. In order for me to get Norrin from school, I need to take a bus, MetroNorth and a cab - it's a 2 hour commute (one way). And I know parents are to be reimbursed for service but it's a $75 fare and I can't afford this on a daily basis.

Norrin isn't the kind of kid who can ride in a car pool with strangers. He still sits in a car seat. He has limited language and functions at a 4 year old level. Norrin's a runner and needs his hand to be held at all times. And while Norrin is okay riding trains - I do not feel comfortable sending him off with someone else - whether they know Norrin or not. When I commute with him, I keep both hands on Norrin while waiting on train platforms and when sitting on the train, I keep a hand on his knee because he tries to get up. If we're standing, I have to keep reminding him to hold on because he doesn't know how to keep his balance.     

So now I am forced to choose. Do I go to work? Or do I take my child to school?

I heard that out of the 145 students that attend Norrin's school only 43 kids showed up. These kids are missing out their much needed related services like Speech and Occupational Therapy. And because school is technically open - these  services will not be made up. They are missing out on classroom instruction and peer relationship building. Their routines are being disrupted. These are children at risk for regression. 

Norrin has come such a long way since his diagnosis, I cannot risk him regressing. And after disruptions to his routine, it takes weeks to get him back on track. So on Tuesday, I will need to take another vacation day so that Norrin can go to school.      

I have a generous amount of vacation time - four weeks. But if this strike goes beyond my vacation, I have no idea what I will do. I've already spoken to the Human Resources department and I've been told that this doesn't qualify for FMLA. And I need my vacation time to Norrin to appointments, for IEP meetings, for evaluations. This is beyond a stressful situation.  

So it seems ironic to me that Local 1181 members are fighting for their job protection, while so many parents - especially parents of special needs children - are worried about their own job security. My job is not secure - I can be let go at any given time. And while my bosses may be understanding, my being out of the office is an inconvenience. I worry about my job. Because I need it. And I have no union to fight for my protection.

This strike must end soon. Because the individuals who really need protection are our kids. And I am fighting for them.

Sincerely, 

Norrin's Mom

For more on the NYC School Bus Strike see my other posts: 
What Will I Do If There's a NYC School Bus Strike
Are You Prepared For a School Bus Strike? on Parents.com

MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD - please sign the petition started by Miz Kp of Sailing Autistic Seas!  

What Will I Do If There's a NYC School Bus Strike?

I've been trying not to think about. What we would do if there really is a school bus strike?


We live in The Bronx. The Boy's school is up in Westchester County - twenty miles away. I don't know how to drive. (I just got scolded for the billionth time "this is exactly the reason why you should know how to drive Babe.") And I work down in Manhattan.


Bus drivers and matrons are scheduled to strike starting Wednesday.


You may be wondering how New York City is preparing for a possible school bus strike?  
   






The strike will impact "152,000 students and their families." And a significant amount of these students have special needs.


And it makes me laugh every time every time I hear that the DOE plans on handing out metro cards. "Parents of children in grades K-2 can request an additional MetroCard to escort their child to school." 


So...the DOE thinks it's okay to put a 3rd grader (an 8-9 year old) on the train or bus unescorted by their parent? I wasn't allowed to take the train/bus by myself until I started the 9th grade.  The irony of this is - if I left an 8 year old home alone and the DOE or any one else found out about it, I may have children's services knocking at my door.


Either way, a metro card isn't really going to help me. 


The DOE will also offer reimbursement to parents driving their kids to school or taking a car service - after filling out a form, of course.


Many kids in the public school system are working class families, single parents, parents of with multiple children, families who are working to simply get by. Families who do not have the flexibility in their jobs to take time off or work from home. Families who do not have cars or have the room in their budget to pay for car service (especially if the strike lasts for more than a few days). And let's be for real, it's the DOE - it could take months for reimbursement. 


The Boy's been on a school bus since he was two years old. It isn't easy putting your kid on a school bus, sending them off with strangers hoping they will keep them safe. Especially when you have a child with special needs and they don't have the capacity to tell you about their day to day events. The bus drivers and matrons are absolutely critical to families like mine and they deserved to be treated as such. But the Department of Education and The Office of Pupil Transportation are two different entities who I wished spent more time working together. Because there's too much red tape involved and our kids are all tangled up in it.     
So what will we do if there really is a strike? Here are the options -  


Option #1: I'll take a vacation days, stay home with The Boy and try to keep him busy. 


Option #2: Take vacation days and take him up to school via public transportation (car service is not an option for me can't afford it - especially if this lasts for a few days). Public transportation requires a bus, the metro north train and a cab from the station to the school. It will take about 2.5 hours. Going back home or even to work would be a waste of time and money because The Boy will still need to get home. I may need to just set myself up in the parents lounge... 


Option #3: Go to work, keep him home with a babysitter - I'll have to pay extra for that too. 


Either way, The Boy will be missing out on something and his entire routine will be disrupted.
The whole thing is sort of freaking me out. And I'm really hoping that all can be resolved between now and Wednesday.  

Never Give Up On A Dream... #DreamUp13

I transferred to The City College of New York as an undergraduate student in the spring of 2003. It was my third college transfer. I lost about half of my credits. I was 27 years old. I was in a committed relationship. And I was working full-time and going to school part-time at night. 

When it was time to register for the fall, I met with the advisor and expressed my concern about the limited course selection. Many of the classes I needed were during the day. 

The advisor gave me two options: quit school or quit work.

I walked out of the advisor's office feeling extremely discouraged. I asked for options and the advisor gave me two that really weren't.

So I transferred to another school: Lehman College. I lost more credits. And I was pushed farther away from my dream.

Many people in my life didn't understand why I was going to school. They would ask me about my plans after I graduated. Was I going to look for another job? Would I make more money? When I answered, "Probably not, my degree is just for me," - it was a hard concept for some people to accept.

By the fall of 2005, I was pregnant and some members of my family urged me to take time off. But I was so close to graduating that I didn't want to quit. I compromised and went to school Saturday mornings and took an online class. I took the spring semester off since I was home on maternity leave but by the following fall, I was back in school. It wasn't easy, trying to find balance between school, work and family. But I was determined. I thought of school as my 'me time.' 

In my final semester at Lehman, I was taking three classes and applying to graduate school while working full time and taking care of my family. It was also the time The Boy was being evaluated. 

The Boy was diagnosed with autism two weeks before my college graduation. And instead of celebrating that summer, I spent it researching autism, visiting specialized preschools and rearranging our lives to accommodate all the recommended services.

Family and friends suggested I put graduate school on hold to be there for Norrin. But I was determined to at least start. I knew that if I started, I could take a break and have the desire to finish. I knew that if I didn't start that fall, I would never go.

I returned to The City College of New York for my first semester as a graduate student in the fall of 2008. It was difficult. Sitting in class with students years younger than me with worries unlike mine. It was demanding, trying to be an advocate for my child and keep up with everything. And I felt guilty for wanting to be both mother and student. 

I took the next semester off because work and school and autism was too much. But I wasn't worried, I had already started and I knew I would return.

Ten years ago I was given two unrealistic choices: quit school or quit work. I believed in myself and created my own options. I learned to let go of time tables, I ignored what everyone else was doing. I pursued my dream while living my life.

I got married. I switched jobs. I attended 4 schools. I changed majors. I moved (twice). I had a baby; he was diagnosed with autism. I started a novel. Family members have died. The Husband retired and started a new career. I had a miscarriage. I started this blog. I've traveled. I sued my school district and fought for a better placement for my son. I have loved, lost, laughed and cried. I have wanted to give up  at every obstacle. But I kept going. 


In a few weeks, I will start my final semester at City College. I will prepare and submit my thesis - 125 pages of my writing. And in May 2013, I will march in cap and gown to Pomp and Circumstance. I will graduate (hopefully with honors) and be the first in my family to have a Masters degree.

Twenty years after my high school graduation, ten years after I was given the option to quit and five years after The Boy's autism diagnosis, I will have fulfilled the dream I didn't think was possible for someone like me. 

     

Tonight I am excited to participate in the Mamiverse Target Twitter Party #DreamUp13 

It has been proven by experts across all areas of study that sharing your personal goals with as many people as you can helps motivate you to make those same goals real.   

Invoking the support of everyone you know, and perhaps some you have yet to meet, builds a network of inspiration that will help you achieve your goals.  

Establishing this Twitterverse base of personal life-coaches will enable you to ask them for advice when you need it, support when you crave it, and get them to cheerlead you into making 2013 a year of total success.

I would love for you to join in and share your dream. 

RSVP for Mamiverse Twitter Party here -https://www.facebook.com/events/183482375130417/

Hashtag: #DreamUp13

Prizes: Three $125 Target GiftCards will be given away

Hosts and cohosts to follow: @Mamiverse @LorraineCLadish @EileenCCampos @CosmoforLatinas @MamiverseBooks @MamiverseFood