If you have been following our journey, you know that since transitioning to middle school in the fall, our youngest son has experienced phenomenal growth. This time of maturing and adapting has given us hope that some day we may reach that elusive goal of "normal". Because in spite of professing to accept and love our son for who he is, recent events have made me have to face the fact that I still want our life to be just that. I want our life to be normal.
To say that our son's transition to middle school was a source of anxiety for all of us would be an understatement. We were dreading it. When he made the transition successfully, we started to hope. After his new learning support teacher resigned to take a position in a different school district three weeks into the new school year, we held our breath. Not only did this change in personnel, not affect his school performance and progress, it seemed to challenge him to be even more independent. This step in maturity gave us even greater hope. He was managing school work, in school therapy sessions, and band practice. To imagine that all of this could be possible with so little coaching and micro-managing our our part, blew our minds. When he finished the first quarter with all As, placing him on the distinguished honor roll, something inside of me clicked. In my mind, we had made it. We were experiencing normal. We could only go up from here.
Little did I know that the tide was about to turn. Three weeks ago, as I sat blogging about the amazing progress that our son has experienced since transitioning to middle school, our son's body was once again preparing to throw him back into a regression. As I've discussed in the past, our son's developmental cycle involves pronounced and often exaggerated periods of growth, followed by plateaus and often even greater regressions. These periods of regression involve an increase in stuttering, blocking, drooling, and chewing on non-food items such as clothing and pencils. It also involves a decrease in motor planning, executive functioning skills, and concentration/focus. Up until recently, this cycle was our normal. It's something that we had learned to accept and manage.
During our son's regression periods, he often becomes frustrated with himself and his situation. In turn, he becomes frustrated with us as we attempt to help him manage as he becomes incapable of managing independently. He resents our assistance because he craves independence. As our son progressed into this most recent regression period, he and I began to butt heads. It seemed like he and I were arguing or frustrated with one another on a daily basis. I typically find the humor in even the darkest of days. For the last couple weeks, I found very little to laugh about when it came to dealing with my son. We loved each other but we couldn't seem to be civil to one another. Ironically, it was my job as a teacher that made me see the light. And when I did, I was very ashamed of myself.
As I've said more than once in the past, throughout our journey with our youngest son, I have always promised myself that I would be honest with him, our family, and myself about our reality. One day, while problem solving a solution to a recurring issue with one of my students, it occurred to me that I have not been honest with myself. I've been hiding the truth because it isn't a very pretty one. I resented my son. I did. I resented my son for daring to regress. For taking away our new normal. For struggling.
The truth of that realization hurt deeply. Our son is struggling to hold it all together. To keep maintaining. To talk. To read. To learn. To coordinate his body movements. To make and keep friends. To be as normal as he can be. As I resented him deep down inside as he struggled and dared to regress. That moment of truth literally took my breath away and brought me to tears. This period of growth and my pride in his growth had felt REALLY good. Matter of fact, it had felt exceptional. It had felt "normal".
Improbably, during this period of regression, our son is finding success. We attended his parent/teacher conference at school and his teaching team had nothing but positive things to say about him. They love him. He is forgetting and losing things more frequently than he had previously but he's maintaining. His grades have dropped slightly in the past two weeks but he is maintaining.
At a recent social event we hosted at our home, he became over stimulated and as we attempted to help him calm down, he started to meltdown. In front of everyone. It was embarrassing. My husband was eventually able to get him to walk away from the group in an attempt to help him calm down, when our son stopped and offered a solution. Out of no where, he asked if he could go play in his basement for a little until he was calmer. This was the first time our son has ever offered a solution to help calm himself in the midst of a meltdown. Talk about growth. If and when, we repeat that moment, we are on the road to self-regulation. When he begins to be able to self-regulate, we work toward preventing the need to self-regulate. Will he eventually be able to calm down or walk away from an over stimulating situation when he perceives other people's reactions to his energy or behavior? This is a long term goal we are working toward.
It's always easy to take pride in my oldest son. He's good looking, smart, funny, and most importantly, he's a genuinely good kid. My youngest son is adorable. He's also smart, funny, and a genuinely good kid. My moment of honesty made me take a step back and realize that I have even greater reasons to be proud of our youngest son. He is resilient. He never gives up and never stops trying. He loves school and learning like no one else I know in spite of all his challenges. He LOVES life and finds the joy in everything. People around him feel better after spending time with him. He's funny. He can come back with a witty, clever one-liner faster than most adults that I know. He loves to harass, tease, and laugh with people. I've seen him make even the most irritable and grouchy individual smile. He has empathy and genuine care and concern for everyone. If someone is upset, hurt, or lonely, our son feels for them and will attempt to help them feel better. Who wouldn't take pride in a child like that?
So what's the take away in this story? After identifying my hidden resentment of my son and his most recent regression, I purposely changed my attitude. I strove to find the humor in the situation again. I chose to recognize the wonderful things that my son is doing in his daily life. I worked to change my interactions with him for the positive. Not surprisingly, the dynamic in our interactions has changed. Our interactions aren't fairy tale perfect but they are positive and loving and healthy again. As the adults in our family relationships, we CHOOSE how we respond to our loved ones. Do we choose love? Do we look for the positive? Can we be honest with ourselves about how we feel about our loved ones and choose to behave and feel differently?
Do you sometimes resent your child? If you do, you CAN do something about it. You can change the dynamic and make it more loving again. More importantly, if you do, you're not alone. You aren't in this alone.
