I haven't written for quite awhile. Life had gotten very busy and my writing needed to take a backseat. Ironically, if anything, life has gotten even more hectic and complicated. In light of life's recent twists, turns, and obstacles, I decided to make the time to write. I may be the only one who reads this, but the writing of it is a cathartic practice that helps to put the chaos that is my world into its proper perspective.
Our youngest son has been in a developmental lag for longer than we have typically experienced in the past. It has all of us a bit stymied and frustrated. His occupational therapist says his focus is much improved from the past but his motivation is lacking. At school, they tell us he is very motivated to do well and actively participates but lacks focus. At home, he is exhausted and prone to tantrums because he is exhausted. At least once every couple weeks, he falls asleep soon after coming home from school and sleeps until the next morning. We can tell the day of the week based upon his frustration level and tendency for tantrums. The later in the week, the greater the likelihood a meltdown will occur.
My method of coping with stress is to utilize a dry sarcastic sense of humor. In recent months, I had a difficult time finding the humor in our son's behavior. It didn't seem to matter what I tried or how hard I worked, he didn't seem to be improving. With everything else that life has thrown at me, I just couldn't find the silver lining or the funny in the moments like I had in the past. I was frustrated. Why couldn't I help my own son? I was angry. I didn't sign up for this. Why couldn't he be like other kids his age? I was scared. What if he doesn't start to catch up with his peers? Will life always be this hard for him? For us?
I look at the person I was before our youngest son. There are things that I miss about that girl. She thought the world was hers to take. Nothing was out of reach with enough hard work and effort. Wow. What naivete, or was it optimism?
On the other hand, I look at that girl and there are things about her that sadden me. How judgmental she could be! She looked at other people's life experiences and judged them without knowing what their lives were really like. Wow. I'm so sorry for that.
That girl also thought she knew the Lord. But her understanding of the Lord was based on a girl who seemed to be standing with her hands on her hips saying "Here I am Lord. Here's what I deserve. I'm your follower. Now make it happen." Wow. What complacency and arrogance. I'm especially sorry for that.
Life with my youngest son has opened my eyes in so many ways. I discovered that it doesn't matter what life hands you. It is never going to be fair. Or easy. Or uncomplicated. That's not how life works. What does ultimately matter is how you handle it.
I may no longer be that naive or optimistic girl of my past. Indeed, I am much less likely to judge the life of those around me. Instead, I have been greatly humbled by life. It has taken my hearing. It has shown me weakness of body and spirit. It has shown me that I can't cure my son or make him better. I can't control what circumstances life brings me and my family.
I am once again beginning to see the humor in life with our youngest son. He exhausts me. He frustrates me. He also makes me laugh like crazy.
We argued over socks. An argument that involved twenty minutes of trying to rationally, calmly explain why socks must be worn; that the socks must be dry ones, not wet ones; and that they must match since I sent him to school with his sneakers on the wrong feet the day before. (I didn't want them to think I was a COMPLETE failure as a mother!) For twenty minutes, I was calm. For twenty minutes, I was patient. For twenty minutes, I was a good mother. After twenty minutes... I lost my mind and found myself hopping up and down and ranting "Put on some matching socks right this minute or I am going to lose my mind." Who can't find humor in moments of insanity like that?
When his father told him he couldn't go to the Atrium Cafe at the hospital after therapy, he lay down in the middle of the hospital, on the floor and held a civil protest. Minutes later, he jumped up and declared he was the "worstest father in the world". He then ran down the hall and disappeared out of sight. My husband found him hiding in a corner down the hospital corridor. Who can't find humor in such lunacy?
After a particularly nasty meltdown, we gave him a bath to help him calm himself down. The warm water seems to take all the frustration and aggression out of him. It almost always works. As he lay in the tub, finally calm and relaxed, his father attempted to process the tantrum with him. "Now don't you think instead of throwing a tantrum and yelling at us, you could just try talking to us?" Our son looks at him, strokes his chin in serious thought and replies "Hmm. I should try that." Who wouldn't laugh at that? Well, come to think of it, maybe not everyone. But when faced with moments like these on a regular basis, you learn to find the humor when and where you can.
The life I am living has shown me that I can survive it. Not with my hands on my hips with demands of arrogance. Instead, I am surviving down on my knees, humbled in prayer. Please Lord, see me through these days. I don't know what you have planned for me and my family but if it is your will, please bring us through it. Maybe that was the lesson meant for me all along.
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