Cheers for Fears.

It seems to be common practice these days for therapists and self help books to suggest stepping out of one’s comfort zone and facing fears. I am beginning to realize life with Sandler has me practicing these methods daily. In fact, a typical hour with him far exceeds a session with a therapist. He does not even give me the chance to back out. He has me facing fears I never knew I had.

Everything from commanding the attention of the medical community (due to his and Bootsie’s diagnosis), to turning heads at Trader Joe’s—as he pushes a life size Chucky doll around in a shopping cart—have tested my comfortable limits. However, I have gotten used to the overwhelming encounters and accepted that walking into a public place with Sandler inevitably draws stares and judgment. Fortunately, most places we frequent are familiar with our family dynamic; some even look forward to what colorful entertainment we will bring.

What I have not gotten used to, and continues to challenge the boundaries of what makes me uncomfortable, is his mouth—more specifically, what comes out of it. In the last couple weeks, as he becomes more and more obsessed with making money to get to Portland, our conversations inevitably turn into a lesson about finances. Though I applaud him and his determination to fill his trip jar full of cash, I have grown exhausted talking about the subject of currency. So much so, that after he diligently accomplishes his twelfth chore in a row and asks me for payment, I have to decline and tell him I am out of money.

Telling him I have no money was supposed to be a simple solution to quieting him and forcing him to take a sabbatical from his business ventures. Instead, it fueled his tenacity to seek employment elsewhere. He not only continues to capitalize on his gambling venture, but also started offering his coaching assistance to young aspiring skateboarders. After a few minutes with his non-soliciting clients, I would see him approach the parents and ask them to reimburse him for his services. Once I caught on to his hustling antics, I was forced to apologize to the parents and lure him away while explaining we do not ask people for money.

After a few attempts to become the town hustler, it started to sink in that he needed to expand on his endeavors. It was no surprise that he began inquiring about getting a job at the grocery store. As we went through the check out line he told everyone in the near proximity that I probably did not have enough money for our groceries (since I cannot afford to pay him for his chores). Then he quickly became distracted and started asking how one gets a position as a cashier. I sighed a deep breath of relief that my moment of utter embarrassment was fleeting, and he was seeking a pay check somewhere else.

Though disappointed in finding out he cannot get a job at the grocery store until he is a little older, he took solace when I assured him I could probably come up with the funds to pay him for his chores, and add bonuses for his hard work at the skatepark. This plan not only suited his desires, but encouraged him to go “full send.”

A win-win for both of us. Nothing makes me stare down my trepidation more than watching him fly through the air on his skateboard. And nothing makes him happier than being the one flying.

- Nikki